her smile had faded.
“Hon, seriously. What’s wrong?” Brandon asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Brandon had grown up avoiding uncomfortable truths, and he’d had enough of it. He wasn’t about to let unspoken sorrow further tarnish their wedding night. He placed his hand atop hers and gently massaged it. “Hon…”
Her expression collapsed into a frown, and she released a shaky sigh. “Let me do this for you,” she said. “Let me be the strong one tonight.”
That touched Brandon, but with his gratitude came guilt for having let her place such a burden on herself. Her good-natured veneer was cracking under the weight of the wedding guests’ resentful stares. The reception seemed tame enough to Brandon, but he chided himself for forgetting how much of a stranger Heather was here. At least she got away from them to get some air.
“Hey, I’m okay, hon,” Brandon said. “You don’t have to do anything for me, or for anyone else. Nobody’s opinion here matters. Pretty soon we’ll be away from all this and we’ll never have to look back. We can even leave right now if you want. I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well, and we can—”
“No.” With Brandon still running his hand tenderly over hers, she turned her palm upward and squeezed. “I can handle it,” she said. “I can handle it. Just don’t shove the cake in my face, okay?” She tried smiling again, and partially succeeded.
Brandon supposed that arguing would only make matters worse. He’d never seen Heather—usually cool and reasonable—so edgy before.
She really was quite tipsy, and had to lean on Brandon all the way up the hill. A few folks clapped when the couple reentered the clubhouse, and many took pictures while the cake was cut. Heather and Brandon fed each other a piece, as was tradition. After smiling for the cameras, Brandon noticed a few guests leaving early, on the far side of the room beyond the picture takers. Once the commotion died down, he made sure Heather was situated at the sweetheart table, then stole out back himself for a quick smoke.
His lighter wasn’t in the pocket where he’d left it, so he searched elsewhere in his tuxedo. He was unused to wearing something so formal. The suit might not normally have bothered him, but at this wedding, in tonight’s company, it felt much too constricting.
If I can just make it through the rest of the night, everything will be fine. The Cessna was all ready to go in the hangar, with its big “JUST MARRIED” sign painted on the back. He and Heather could leave in the morning for their Canadian honeymoon, and what a relief that would be after all these months of stress. It pained Brandon to think that he might never see his friends from high school or church again after tonight, but he was clearly not welcome in Bristol anymore.
“Need a light?” The familiar gentle voice came from an opening door, bringing with it the din of the reception inside. Brandon glanced up to see Tim approaching, his usual smile lighting up his face.
Brandon smiled back. “Sure.”
Tim joined Brandon in the small garden outside the country club and lit a cigarette for each of them. The gray hair on his sideburns flared briefly orange, then a trail of smoke climbed from the end of his cigarette and up past his kind eyes.
“How are things at the flight school?” he asked. “Will you start teaching again when you get back?”
“That’s the plan.” Brandon inhaled, and warmth filled his lungs, counterbalancing the cold air on his skin.
“Thanks again for taking so much time off work to spend with me these past few months,” Tim said. “It’s been great to see you again.”
“Sure thing. It’s been good to see you too.” What was Tim building up to? He hadn’t spoken this congenially to Brandon in weeks.
“You’re welcome back any time you want.”
“Cool, yeah. I’ll be back to see you all the time.” But probably not to see anyone else.
They smoked together in
“Hon, seriously. What’s wrong?” Brandon asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Brandon had grown up avoiding uncomfortable truths, and he’d had enough of it. He wasn’t about to let unspoken sorrow further tarnish their wedding night. He placed his hand atop hers and gently massaged it. “Hon…”
Her expression collapsed into a frown, and she released a shaky sigh. “Let me do this for you,” she said. “Let me be the strong one tonight.”
That touched Brandon, but with his gratitude came guilt for having let her place such a burden on herself. Her good-natured veneer was cracking under the weight of the wedding guests’ resentful stares. The reception seemed tame enough to Brandon, but he chided himself for forgetting how much of a stranger Heather was here. At least she got away from them to get some air.
“Hey, I’m okay, hon,” Brandon said. “You don’t have to do anything for me, or for anyone else. Nobody’s opinion here matters. Pretty soon we’ll be away from all this and we’ll never have to look back. We can even leave right now if you want. I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well, and we can—”
“No.” With Brandon still running his hand tenderly over hers, she turned her palm upward and squeezed. “I can handle it,” she said. “I can handle it. Just don’t shove the cake in my face, okay?” She tried smiling again, and partially succeeded.
Brandon supposed that arguing would only make matters worse. He’d never seen Heather—usually cool and reasonable—so edgy before.
She really was quite tipsy, and had to lean on Brandon all the way up the hill. A few folks clapped when the couple reentered the clubhouse, and many took pictures while the cake was cut. Heather and Brandon fed each other a piece, as was tradition. After smiling for the cameras, Brandon noticed a few guests leaving early, on the far side of the room beyond the picture takers. Once the commotion died down, he made sure Heather was situated at the sweetheart table, then stole out back himself for a quick smoke.
His lighter wasn’t in the pocket where he’d left it, so he searched elsewhere in his tuxedo. He was unused to wearing something so formal. The suit might not normally have bothered him, but at this wedding, in tonight’s company, it felt much too constricting.
If I can just make it through the rest of the night, everything will be fine. The Cessna was all ready to go in the hangar, with its big “JUST MARRIED” sign painted on the back. He and Heather could leave in the morning for their Canadian honeymoon, and what a relief that would be after all these months of stress. It pained Brandon to think that he might never see his friends from high school or church again after tonight, but he was clearly not welcome in Bristol anymore.
“Need a light?” The familiar gentle voice came from an opening door, bringing with it the din of the reception inside. Brandon glanced up to see Tim approaching, his usual smile lighting up his face.
Brandon smiled back. “Sure.”
Tim joined Brandon in the small garden outside the country club and lit a cigarette for each of them. The gray hair on his sideburns flared briefly orange, then a trail of smoke climbed from the end of his cigarette and up past his kind eyes.
“How are things at the flight school?” he asked. “Will you start teaching again when you get back?”
“That’s the plan.” Brandon inhaled, and warmth filled his lungs, counterbalancing the cold air on his skin.
“Thanks again for taking so much time off work to spend with me these past few months,” Tim said. “It’s been great to see you again.”
“Sure thing. It’s been good to see you too.” What was Tim building up to? He hadn’t spoken this congenially to Brandon in weeks.
“You’re welcome back any time you want.”
“Cool, yeah. I’ll be back to see you all the time.” But probably not to see anyone else.
They smoked together in
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