Everybody's After Love (3 page)

My mouth hangs open as he turns on the shower. I want to say that the cruelty of his words are false, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’s hit the nail on the head. There’s so much truth in Kevin’s words that I can’t even wrap my head around it.

The Lion Sleeps Tonight
ringtone rescues me from my thoughts and I answer the phone without even seeing who it is on the caller ID. As soon as I hear the voice on the other end, I feel like an icicle is being drove into my skull. It’s
her
.

“Jules? Are you there?” the mousy, baby voice of my future sister-in-law squeaks.

Debating whether or not to hang up and blame it on a bad connection, the lie I told my brother earlier pops into my head.

“Yeah, Bri, I’m here.”

She squeals so loud that I pull the phone away from my ear for fear she might burst my eardrum. When the ear piercing shriek subsides, I bring the phone back and hear her say, “J.P. said he shared our good news. Are you
so
excited? I can’t wait for us to be sisters!”

Even though she can’t see me, I still roll my eyes upward at her ridiculous statement. I’ve only met the girl a handful of times and I sure as hell wasn’t friendly any of those meetings. Playing along, in a total mocking tone, I shriek back into the phone, hoping she hears how annoying it is.

“Totes, Bri! We’ll be, like, besties!”

Apparently, she doesn’t understand my mockery and screams back. “I know, right? I want you to be the maid-of-honor. Say yes, please tell me you’ll say yes!”

Maid-of-honor? Are you kidding me?
This chick is in the most pretentious sorority on campus. Surely she has someone else she can ask.

“Um…don’t you have a friend or sorority sister you’d rather have?” I ask, trying to hide my disgust at the idea of me standing beside her as she marries my brother.

“Oh, don’t worry, I plan on having nine bridesmaids and you, Jules. You’ll be the tenth in the wedding party. Please don’t say no, you
have
to be in it!”

How do I turn that down?
“Um…sure,” I mumble as I hear the water turn off in the shower. I head to the kitchen and walk outside under my carport so I can finish this conversation without Kevin overhearing.

“Don’t worry, my sorority sisters will plan the shower and bachelorette party, you’ll just have to show up. There’s so much to do now that he’s officially asked. I already booked the church last month, but I’ll just need you to help with the actual plans, come to my dress fittings…”

She continues to drone on and on about things I don’t care about.
She booked the church last month?
How was I so blind to not have seen this coming? Kevin and I spent New Year’s Eve with the two of them and I didn’t even pick up on how serious they were then… or maybe I was in denial.

“Jules? Are you still there?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m here. Yeah, whatever you need,” I say, not even sure what I just agreed to.

Another squeal and I check my ear to make sure it’s not bleeding. “Great! I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday and we’ll go check out the church. Then we can hang out downtown, maybe do lunch on Washington Street?”

“Ten Saturday? Um, sure, that works. I’ll see you then.”

Hitting the end button never felt so good. I somehow have a feeling that I’m going to be doing a lot of things I’d rather not until this wedding is over. Opening the door and stepping back into the kitchen, Kevin is finishing up a bowl of cereal. Obviously, my culinary skills are lacking since we are living on cereal and Ramen noodles. Kevin’s eyebrows raise questioningly as I close the door behind me.

“She asked me to be the maid-of-honor,” I groan.

Kevin lets out a loud chuckle as he loads his dishes into the dishwasher. “This is going to be great,” he says, much too amused at the situation.

Hands on my hips, I narrow my eyes at him. “If you know what’s best, you’ll shut it right now.”

Closing the dishwasher door, he holds up his hands. “Okay, I get the hint. Lay off or no nookie.”

“Good and you’re coming with me on Saturday to look at the church. Be the buffer, I don’t think I can handle alone time with her.”

With a mischievous grin on his face, he nods. “Gladly, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says and turns the dishwasher on.

“No!” I yell out, but it’s too late. The possessed machine roars back to life and my finger is hovering over my ICE. Instead of hitting send, I sigh and throw my phone on the table as I face the dishwasher drama on my own. A first for me in so many ways.

***

Despite the sounds of the ball games playing on six different televisions, an awkward silence rests between my sister’s fiancé and me. I twirl the neck of my beer bottle between my thumb and forefinger while J.P. taps his fingers on the table. Unable to stand the silence any longer, I finally break it.

“Bri says you’ve got a sister.”

J.P.’s face lights up and he smiles. “Yeah, her name is Jules. She’s a bit of a wild one, but has a really good head on her shoulders. She’s working to get her EdD so she can get on full-time at the local university.”

I can feel his pride in her from across the table. I might not have solely raised Bri like J.P. did his sister, but many a night it was just Bri and I taking care of ourselves while our parents worked late.

“A wild one?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve dated and I wonder what wild means these days.

The pride gone and now replaced with concern, he shakes his head. “She’s twenty-four. I would love for her to settle down, find a man who can take care of her, but she only dates losers who she keeps around for just a few months. The current one is a tatted model who thinks he’s going to make it big here in St. Louis,” he explains with a chuckle. “He even took her to get her first tattoo,” he adds with utter disgust.

J.P. has spoken like a true big brother, although I can see where Jules is just having fun. However, if it was Bri, I would feel the same way J.P. does. So far, I haven’t seen any tattoos on him, or Bri, so that’s a good sign.

J.P. takes a long pull from his beer and sets it down. “Look, I know we don’t know each other very well, but Bri would really like for you to be in the wedding. She asked Jules to be her maid-of-honor so it only seems fitting for you to be my best man.”

I finish off my beer before I answer. “That works. I know you’re an old brother too and I can see how protective you are of your little sis. It’s no different with Bri and me. If you ever hurt her or break her heart, you’ll have to answer to me. Understand?”

“You have my promise, Bentley. I love Bri and will do everything in my power to protect her and make her happy,” J.P. states sincerely.

I’m really not a violent man at all and I can tell J.P. isn’t either, but it’s a brother’s job to threaten the man who's about to take over your role as protector of your baby sister. J.P. extends his hand. We exchange firm, strong handshakes, our eyes locked letting each other know our commitment to our words.

CHAPTER 4

“Isn’t it beautiful?” The most annoying voice in the world asks.

“My neck hurts,” I respond. All three of us tilt our heads upright, out of the position we’d been in admiring the artwork on the ceiling.

My brother’s fiancée is like a mini-Barbie. Granted, she’s only five feet tall, but she’s got the perfect blonde ponytail, high cheekbones, big, pouty lips, and a nose that is perfectly round. Honestly, she’s a bit out of my brother’s league if you ask me and completely opposite of every girl he’s ever dated, which is a giant red flag to me.

Bri grabs my hand and I’m almost blinded by the two-carat princess cut ring on her finger. Kevin stands in the middle of the aisle laughing at her enthusiasm as I roll my eyes in her direction. She drags me to the front of the church as she points out the stained glass windows, the high archways, and the handpainted scene that we were staring at which depicts Jesus and his disciplines at the last supper. It really is gorgeous, but I won’t admit that to her.

“It only seats two hundred people, but I can work with that number. I was thinking maybe we’d only invite J.P.’s co-workers to the reception. The ceremony will start at two because we have to be out before mass—”

“Mass? Since when is my brother Catholic?” I’m sure my eyes are about to bug out of my head when she mentions this. Granted, neither of us have been to church since before our parents’ accident, but it had never been to a Catholic mass.

“Well, he’s still taking classes, but he’ll be done with them before the wedding,” Bri says showing off a bit of Catholic pride, like she gets extra credit for converting him.

As I’m about to protest and say something completely inappropriate for church, Kevin’s arm plunks down over my shoulders. Kissing my cheek, he teases, “What, Jules? You wouldn’t convert for me?”

I knit my eyebrows, irritated at his comment, but then realize I never even knew he was Catholic. Turning back to Bri, my eyes meet those of the Jesus statue and I swear his gaze is following me around the room. It’s really starting to creep me out so I slide out of Kevin’s hold and walk toward the back of the church, ready to get out of here.

“Sounds like you have it all figured out,” I comment, picking up the pace as I see another statue staring me down.

Bri’s voice is even more annoying as it echoes off the walls of the empty sanctuary. The pitter patter of her heels is fast and getting louder. Glancing over my shoulder, I see her running after me. Catching me in a hug, she squeals loudly and I grimace at the sound, unable to cover my ears. Behind me, I hear Kevin chuckling again at the sound while I wonder if I’ll make it out of this whole wedding ordeal without my eardrums bursting.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like it! J.P.’s going to meet us for lunch, but we have some time to kill before he can get away from work. I have a surprise for you while we wait,” she says with more excitement than any one person should ever possess.

Kevin wraps his arm around my shoulders from the other side and in full animation, he squeals in my ear that isn’t ringing.

“Oh, a surprise! Jules just
loves
surprises!” he exclaims.

I narrow my eyes at him. I hate surprises and he knows it. He found out the hard way when we first started dating and tried to sneak into my house early one day for a little morning nookie. Elbowing him hard in the gut, he just laughs and pulls my ponytail loose which he knows drives me insane.

Bri won’t stop talking as we walk through the park where the St. Louis Arch looms over us. Even if I wanted to hear what she was saying, I couldn’t. My pulse beats loudly as the thought of going into that deathtrap scares the bejeezus out of me. It’s not until we’re headed underground that I realize we’re walking into the museum located at the bottom of the monument. Surprised my feet are cooperating, I look at her holding up tickets with a huge grin on her face.

“J.P. said you’ve never been up the Arch before, so today is the day!” Bri proclaims as though it’s the best idea ever.

“Umm… no,” I state, not fully disclosing to either my future sister-in-law or my boyfriend that I’m deathly afraid of heights.

Kevin’s large hands grip my shoulders and steers us toward the line for the tram. Like a stubborn donkey, I dig in my heels and refuse to move. When Bri grabs my hand, pulling me forward and Kevin pushing me from behind, I don’t stand a chance. By the time we wind through the waiting rails, there’s no line and we’re immediately shoved into the tiniest, egg-shaped elevator.

The doors aren’t even closed yet and I can feel sweat popping on out my forehead. Chills spike over my body when the cool air from the elevator shaft hits my skin. Neither of them seem to notice as they chat about who knows what. Closing my eyes, I try to remain calm and focus on counting like Paulie’s told me to do in the past.
One… two… three…

The doors slam close and my eyes snap open. A voice comes over the intercom, reciting facts about the Gateway Arch. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ancient tram begins to creek and creep up the inside of the metal leg of the Arch. My breathing quickens and I grab Kevin’s thigh, squeezing tightly.

“Ow, Jules! Loosen up!” he mutters without even looking at me. Removing my hand, he continues his conversation with Bri, something about the differences between commercial modeling and avant garde.

“The last piece of the Gateway Arch was put into place October 28, 1965,” the recording informs me.
Great, this thing was built almost fifty years ago. It’s due to fall down any time and today is probably the day.

A loud pop and the tram stops briefly then jerks to a start continuing upward. I let out a loud scream, catching both Bri and Kevin’s attention who stop their chatting and stare at me like I have a second head.

With total fear, I scream, “Is no one else concerned that we’re in the world’s smallest tram riding to our death at six hundred and thirty feet to walk around some steel thing built before any of us were born?!”