The Best Man Read online

  “I’d like to know how I’m in any way responsible for this foolish idea,” Samuel snorted.

  “You gave me crap about being immature. About Em and me sleeping in the tree house and stuff. And I thought, ‘Why not?’ Sure, I’m getting married next summer. But for now? What’s wrong with just being a kid for a little while longer? One last summer to have some fun and enjoy being home with my brother and my best friend? No job. No responsibilities. No school. Just...goofing around like we used to.”

  “So, we plan these...activities.” I looked over at Samuel who seemed to be at least considering his brother’s intention, and back to Andy. “Then we all go out and actually do them. And the dipshits you went drinking with get to determine who would make the better best man?”

  “Pretty much,” Andy agreed. “But before you start thinking of ways to sabotage each other’s plans, you should know something. You will be expected to participate in every event. And you will be judged not only by your own planning abilities, but also by how much fun you bring to the party. So, Em might have a great idea for something to do...but, Samuel? You could still win the round just by helping everyone have an excellent time.”

  Now it was my turn to snort. Samuel turned his frown in my direction, and I picked up my beer and pretended I didn’t see him. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Charming. I should be able to win the competition on personality alone.

  “I can understand the day and nighttime activities. But what’s this ‘epic adventure’?” Samuel asked. I watched Andy intently, eager for his response.

  “Ah. Well, we won’t be able to try those ahead of time.” He shook his head. “That part of the competition will be planned and presented for consideration. You come up with the coolest bachelor party event you can think of and tell me what you’ve got in mind. Think of it as a presentation. I’ll determine the points for that one on my own, based on creativity or whatever. And if you win the competition, we’ll do that culminating activity during the actual bachelor party weekend next summer.”

  “Sounds like a piece of cake.” I smiled.

  “Cake. Yes. And finger sandwiches. Maybe some punch? Isn’t that the kind of party girls are used to throwing together?” Samuel was taunting me.

  “Big dogs, remember?” I sneered. “I have no problem hanging out with the guys.”

  “You don’t have what it takes.” Samuel folded his arms across his chest and leaned back again.

  “What? A penis?” I asked. “I don’t need one. I happen to have a brain that I don’t have to shake after I pee.”

  Andy started to choke on his beer, and I reached over and slapped him across the back until his coughing subsided. “I take it you’re in?” Andy smiled at me.

  “Oh yeah. Count me in.” I nodded solemnly.

  “Fine. Whatever.” Samuel curled his lip.

  The three of us finished our beers in silence while the unfinished hot wings tried their best to burn a hole in the center of the table.

  I was still thinking about my afternoon meeting with Andy and Samuel while I brushed my teeth and prepared for bed. The three of us had gone our separate ways after lunch. I purposely didn’t call Andy later in the day, so that he and his brother could spend some time reconnecting. Reaching above my head to twist my hair into a messy topknot, I walked into my bedroom. My feet stumbled in a moment of surprise when I saw the long and lanky figure of my best friend draped across my bed.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I need to talk to you, Em.” Andy smiled with his hands cradling the back of his head. He looked totally at ease, lying with his head near the foot of my bed. His legs stretched straight out to let his feet rest flat on the wall above my headboard.

  “Get your feet down from there,” I ordered. “I have no idea how I would explain size eleven footprints on the wall above my bed.”

  “Sully would think you were getting bizz-ay,” Andy said and rolled so he could sit up with his feet on the floor. “I came up the trellis. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” I shook my head and glanced toward the open window. Dad knew the trellis served as a ladder for Andy and me. If he’d ever caught any other boys trying to enter my room that way, I was sure he would have cut the thing down immediately.

  “Nice underwear,” Andy commented while he looked down my body. I kicked at his leg playfully and moved to sit on the chair by my desk. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?” He continued to tease. “I know you are the ballsiest girl I’ve ever known, but you aren’t really growing a pair down there, are you?”

  He was, of course, referring to my sleep attire of a tank top and men’s boxer shorts. I pulled at the hem of my boxers and shrugged. They belonged to my ex-boyfriend, and I’d decided they were too comfortable to throw away.

  “I know you didn’t climb into my room to talk about my pajamas.” I folded my arms over my chest and tipped my head to the side while I looked at him.

  “I wanted to make sure you aren’t mad at me.” Andy rested his arms across his legs and folded his hands in the space between his knees. “I hadn’t given it any thought at all before we were all here, together. I told the guys I was going to get married, and Nick asked me who my best man was going to be. I freaked out. Up until then, it hadn’t even crossed my mind. I honestly have no idea which of you I should ask to stand up with me. I hoped the three of us could hang out together, and that maybe you two would come to some understanding...”

  “So you wouldn’t have to make a choice that might hurt one of us,” I finished.

  “Exactly,” he breathed.

  “So...the competition?”

  “I just came up with it, like I told you and Sammy.” Andy rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. “I don’t know. It’s probably stupid...”

  “It’s very stupid,” I agreed. “But it will also be fun.”

  Andy looked up and smiled at my words. “Really? You think so? Because Samuel thinks I’m being a complete idiot.”

  “That’s because your brother has turned into an uptight jerk,” I grumbled.

  “Come here,” Andy ordered. He slid his body to lie on the bed again, and I moved to lie down beside him. With my head resting on his outstretched arm, we both stared at the tiny glow-in-the-dark star stickers that were scattered on my ceiling. “Do you remember when we put those up there?” Andy pointed at the faded yellow constellations.

  “I think I was ten.” I frowned.

  “Yes. We thought it was cool that when it was too cloudy to see the stars outside, we could still come up here to make wishes.”

  “We were silly kids,” I giggled.

  “I still remember when you wished you could marry Samuel.”

  “I did not!” I gasped, blushing as I remembered it too.

  “Yes, you did.” Andy pulled my shoulder closer to him. “He’s the same guy, Emmy. He...he’s just been out of the game for a while. Law school is serious business. All work and no play...ya know? Cut him a little slack. If we help him have some fun, maybe he’ll loosen up a little. You were the one who told me I’d come up with something to help me spend time with him this summer. This competition was the best thing I could think of.”

  “I guess,” I murmured.

  “Will you try?” Andy asked quietly. “I haven’t really spent any quality time with Sammy in so long. You know it was hard when he left to go to college. Then it was law school...We’ve barely been in touch. I’m looking forward to having my brother back.”

  “Yeah. I’ll try,” I replied softly. I could tell by the tone of Andy’s voice that it was important to him. He shifted his arm out from under my head then and moved down the bed so he could crawl back out through the window.

  “See you tomorrow? Maybe we could watch a movie or something? Oh—and you have to come up with your daytime bachelor party activity. Samuel already has his planned out.”

  “Shit! What’s he doing?”

  “He didn’t tell me.” Andy shrugged
. “You can both let me know your ideas tomorrow. See ya, Em.”

  “Night, Andy,” I said, biting my lip. When I saw his tall figure cut across the grass between our houses, I pulled my window shut and moved to the desk to turn on my laptop. I had a daytime activity for a bunch of guys to plan.

  At noon the next day, dressed in a pair of old jeans with tears across both knees and a vintage concert T-shirt, I buttoned one of my father’s faded flannel shirts across my chest to serve as a paint smock. It covered me to mid-thigh and was perfect for battling cobwebs and spiders while I crawled around in the attic space searching for my old easel and covered palette. With old and new art supplies in tow, I went out to the backyard to set up.

  Dad had requested I paint him a picture. The view from our backyard seemed as nice a place to begin as any. I felt inspired, looking at the billowy silver clouds that huddled together to plan rain over the evergreen tree line. Smiling, I lay flat on my back and considered the colors that danced above me.

  It had been ages since I had picked up a brush and paints. My creative impulses at school had shifted to more technologically precise works with computer graphics. Classes and projects pushed other art endeavors aside as hobbies which I had little time for. While the damp grass below cushioned me, my fingers itched to reproduce the scene above.

  I stretched my arms over my head happily and felt my shoulder muscles loosen. After a short while, I stood back up and moved to the easel where my watercolor block waited for me to sketch the general outline of what I wanted to paint. Lines in place, I stuck the pencil between my teeth and bit gently into the soft wood while I squeezed my paints into the wells of my palette.

  A quick wash with a wide brush in clear water readied my paper for the old sienna and aquamarine that blended to provide light and darkness for my sky on paper.

  The white paper peeked through to form the hanging clouds, and I smiled when I saw my mind’s vision take shape before me.

  Brown and sap green were added to the mix, and I pulled my paintbrush in straight lines, mimicking the growth of trees for my background. I stepped back and looked at the shades, knowing I would need to let it dry before I added the more detailed, closer trees to the composition. It was then I heard a gentle cough from a short distance away.

  Turning my head, I saw Samuel watching me intently from his back porch next door. I looked at him, wondering how long he had been standing there.

  “Hi,” I called over. He smiled and walked down the stairs, crossing the lawn between us quickly with his long strides.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt,” Samuel said pleasantly.

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “Since you were lying in the grass,” Samuel replied. “You used to do that when you were a little girl too. You’d stare at whatever you were drawing or painting like you wanted to memorize it first.”

  I shrugged. My cheeks felt a little warm, but I pushed that away. It surprised me that he remembered any of my childhood habits.

  “This is nice,” Samuel remarked, stepping in front of the easel. “The sky never looks the same anywhere else as it does here.”

  “I know,” I answered. I took in the back of his messy hair and his broad shoulders. When he turned to face me, I looked down at the grass, so he wouldn’t catch me staring.

  “You always were so talented...”

  I looked up to find nothing but honesty in his eyes. I was confused by Samuel being so nice. The compliments were surprising. “I always knew you’d go into art,” he said. “You are an art major. Am I correct?”

  “Graphic art,” I clarified. “Not entirely the same thing, though it lets me put my creativity to good use. And it will allow me to work pretty much anywhere I’d like when I graduate. Did Andy tell you?”

  “I guessed,” he said. “Come with me. I’d like to show you something.”

  He turned and started back the way he had come. I rinsed my brush in my water jar, careful to get the paint pulled away from the heel before I pinched the sable bristles back to a point and laid it flat to dry in the tray beside my palette. Samuel stood on his porch waiting for me, and I hurried to join him.

  “Where are we going?” I asked when he held the back door open for me to enter.

  “Upstairs,” he said. I hesitated in the hallway. Samuel had been in a foul mood the last time I had been around him. Now he seemed happy and relaxed. I didn’t quite know what to make of it. “Trust me,” he said, putting his hand on my elbow and steering me up the stairs in front of him.

  “Where’s Andy?” I asked, looking around.

  “He drove into town to get some snack food. He said we’re watching a movie later.”

  “Oh.” My feet stopped when we reached the space in front of Samuel’s bedroom door. I looked at the rectangular metal sign that was still tacked into the wood. In bright red and white, the sign clearly stated, “Keep Out.” It was a reminder that the red juice I had spilled across his pristine white homework pages inspired him to hang that sign when he was fifteen years old. “Are you sure I can come in?”

  “If you promise not to destroy my report on Abraham Lincoln, I think this one time will be okay,” Samuel teased. I smiled and followed him into his bedroom. Samuel had made a joke. It was nice.

  “Have a seat.” He pointed to his bed. I tried to act casual as I went to sit on the edge of the blue-and-green-plaid comforter. Samuel walked over to the bookcase and scanned the spines of the books there. Then, reaching one hand upward, he brought back a dark blue yearbook. “Senior year,” he said. I stiffened when he sat beside me and started flipping through the pages of the annual in his hands. Samuel’s nearness was a little unsettling. Sure, he was the same old Samuel I had known most of my life. But he was older and definitely more handsome. I had loved him from afar for so many years, it was hard not to feel a little flustered by the fact that I was sitting beside him, in his bedroom. It didn’t help that I couldn’t easily forget about the apple pie disaster. “Ah! Here it is.” Samuel smiled. He pulled a faded piece of paper from where it was tucked between pages of his book, and he unfolded it before handing it to me.

  It was a sketch of Samuel that I had drawn.

  In it, Samuel had been sitting in front of the picture window, waiting for his friends to arrive in the limo they rented for prom night. I had lain on my stomach on the living room floor, sketching his profile on the tablet of paper in front of me.

  When he had walked down the stairs that night dressed in his tuxedo, I thought the butterflies that beat inside my chest would be enough to lift me off the floor. I had never seen him look more mature or handsome. I wasn’t quite thirteen years old, but I was completely jealous of the girl who would be wearing the corsage he held encased in a clear plastic box.

  Andy played piano in the corner of the room and looked up to tease his older brother. “Nice monkey suit.”

  Samuel tugged the bottom of his jacket and frowned.

  “You look very debonair,” Joy said with a smile. She smoothed her hands down Samuel’s lapels, and he grinned gratefully at his mother.

  “I still don’t see why you have to go to prom.” Andy wrinkled his nose. “Who wants to do all that stupid dancing anyway?”

  “My girlfriend does,” Samuel said quietly. He moved to sit in the window then, watching for his ride. I shifted to find more comfort on the floor, letting my pencil glide on the paper to shade his cheekbones and his chin.

  “Dancing is for sissies.” Andy continued to rib Samuel from his place on the piano bench.

  “Nonsense,” Joy interjected. “Samuel is a lovely dancer. Girls appreciate a man who can dance well.”

  “Well, I’m never going to prom.” Andy shook his head but continued playing quiet music.

  “Me neither.” I finally joined the conversation.

  “Emmy!” Joy ignored her younger son and spoke to me. “Girls should look forward to their proms. We get to dress up like princesses and dance around the room...” Her words
faded away as she moved toward the kitchen to check on dinner. I shrugged.

  “I don’t know how to dance anyway,” I spoke toward the floor. My pencil scratched across the surface of my sketch pad a few more minutes before a pair of shiny black shoes came into my line of sight. I looked up to see Samuel smiling above me.

  “Dance with me.”

  “What?” I croaked out. My pencil dropped to the floor, and my cheeks turned pink.

  Samuel laughed lightly.

  “It’s easy. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  He reached his long, soft fingers down toward me, and I tentatively placed my hand in his. Once I was standing in front of him, Samuel pursed his lips with a look of concentration. “Here. Keep your chin up. Don’t look at your feet. It’s my job to lead. You just...follow.”

  Like a dream, I moved closer to Samuel. He smiled encouragingly and wrapped his hand around my own. He pulled my other hand to rest on his shoulder before he pressed his fingers into my hip. I couldn’t quite bring myself to meet his eyes, but I did try to keep my chin up as he’d instructed. And then...somehow...we were dancing.

  Andy played quietly while I stared straight ahead at Samuel’s white shirt. He moved us gently from side to side, and I concentrated on following his movements so that I wouldn’t trip us both.

  “Not so bad, is it?” Samuel’s breath tickled the top of my head. I closed my eyes and smiled. It was perfect.

  The blaring of a horn outside caused Samuel’s steps to falter. He released me with a quick smile and moved to pick up the corsage he had left by the window. Then, as if he had a second thought, he opened the plastic case and pinched a little sprig of baby’s breath from the arrangement. He walked back over to me, and my heart skipped a beat when he tucked the tiny white flowers behind my ear. I closed my eyes as his hand lingered near my cheek for a moment.

  “Thanks for the dance, Emelia,” he said quietly. When I opened my eyes again, it was to see him shutting the door as he left.