Heartwood (17 page)

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Authors: L.G. Pace III

Tags: #A Carved Hearts Novel

BOOK: Heartwood
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‘There’s the man of the hour.” He called out. “Long night?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I replied, striding purposefully toward the stone cottage which I remembered from the tour was where we were meant to change. I looked around for my bride, even though I knew she’d be pissed if she caught me. Her dress was a total mystery, and I was dying to steal a glance.

“You’re all clear.” Graham read me fluently. “Molly’s already down by the creek with the bridesmaids. She looks beautiful.”

I nodded, not even trying to hide my smile. “You got the rings?”

He sniffed. “I only have two jobs. I have no intention of fumbling either one of them.”

I’d some concerns about choosing Graham as my best man. First and foremost, I’d been afraid that I’d hurt Mason’s feelings. He’d been my best man the first time around, but things had changed since then. When I’d lost myself, it’d been impossible for Mason to reach me. He tried...God, how he tried. Mac too, in his own way. But they didn’t have any better luck than Tamryn did.

No matter who approached me, I just lashed out or shut down. In the end, Graham reached me by not trying to reach me. Instead, he called me and offered me a job. When I inevitably fucked it up, he shook his head, took the heat for it and just let me be for a bit. But he always called me again. As soon as whatever boneheaded thing I had done had died down, he somehow got me more work.

Through all the arrests, fights, drunken antics and ridiculous behavior he patiently stood by me. He sat and listened to me when I got lost at the bottom of the bottle and cursed the world for the pain I’d suffered. When I really needed it...when I went too far... he kicked my ass with tough love and the occasional suspension. He always hoped I’d see the light and come to his church, but God and I hadn’t been on speaking terms. Through all my years of mourning my family, Graham had been more of a father and friend than I had ever known, or deserved.

The day the twins were born, I started to believe that there might be some hope for my soul someday. As much as I tried to shake the feeling, it felt like someone was looking out for me. I was so thankful for their safety and Molly’s, I wanted to believe my life was turning a corner from the dark path I’d been on for so long.

As an unofficial peace offering to the man upstairs, I decided to have the twins baptized. I talked it over with Molly who wasn’t any more religious than I was. At first she was sure I was joking, but when she saw how serious I was, she agreed.

“I don’t have any strong feelings about it one way or another, Joe.” She said, wrapping her arms around me. “If it’s important to you, let’s do it.”

After some discussion, we’d decided to have the twins baptized at Graham’s church. Graham looked as shocked as Molly had. He wouldn’t have looked more surprised if I told him I was having a sex change, but I could tell he was overjoyed.

Always the social butterfly, Molly fell head over heels for the minister, who happened to be female. Reverend Rita had been completely welcoming, accepting us even though we were an unmarried couple. When we went to meet her prior to the ceremony, Rita was fantastic with the twins, and even complimented Molly on her body art. We liked her so much that when the time came we’d asked her to preside over our wedding. Though we weren’t members or even remotely regulars at the Universal Unitarian Church that Graham and his wife attended, Reverend Rita agreed without a moment’s hesitation. As awful as it sounds, I couldn’t wait to see the look on my conservative father’s face.

Mac walked out onto the porch, looking uncharacteristically man-scaped. “Hey, Joe. Want a beer?”

“Is it even noon yet?” I asked.

“Yes, so you’d better get the hell in here and get dolled up.” Mason replied for him as he joined his fellow groomsmen. He cracked open a bottle of Shiner and handed it to me. His ever-present cowboy hat was perched on his head, clashing magnificently with his tuxedo.

“Mason, take the hat off before Molly sees you.” I said.

“If you insist.” He replied and ripped it off his head. He was bald as a cue ball underneath, having completely shaved his head. I barely missed him as I spit my beer out in a large, fountain-like spray.

“What the—” I started, laughing like a fool.

“You were the one that said I should just shave it off.” He laughed, side stepping the puddle of beer I’d just deposited on the floor. “It’s my wedding present to you. It was this or a bread maker. This one you can’t return. Sorry.”

“It’s awesome!” I laughed. “Has Molly seen it?”

“Not yet.” He dropped a towel onto the beer and kicked it around with his patent leather covered toes.

“Shiny shoes to match your shiny head.” I chuckled, hurrying past them and inside to get changed.

‘That’s what I said.” Mac agreed.

“Joe.” Nick appeared at the door. He was wearing a tux as well, and had removed most of his piercings. We’d asked him, along with Sanchez and Francis, to usher.

“Yeah?” I asked, pulling my shirt off over my head.

“Molly wanted me to come check on you.” You’d never know that he worked for me by the tone of voice he used. It seemed to imply that I was like some court jester screwing around while the queen waited on me in the throne room. When it came to Molly and her wishes, Nick had always focused like a laser. This time, he just happened to be right.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“I’ll have her skip ahead to the pictures with her mom.” He muttered with an eye roll. If he ever decided to put carpentry behind him, he’d have quite a future as a wedding coordinator.

Mac, Mason, and Graham took a seat as I hurried into the adjoining room. The dated wood paneling on the walls made me smile, and I dressed as quickly as I could, given the attention to detail involved in formal attire. I was tying a tie when a knock came on the door.

“I’m almost done!” I called, ready to throttle Nick for pushing. Giving up temporarily on tying my bow tie I walked over and ripped open the door. Standing in the hallway my father looked up at me startled by my forceful display.

“Joseph. I don’t mean to bother you. I realize you are trying to get ready. I just wanted to see if you needed any help.”

My mind actually spun for a second trying to grasp what the words he’d just said meant. While the tone was apologetic, he stopped short of saying the words out loud. For him, I knew that he was trying to be diplomatic. But I had no patience with the man. Even on my wedding day, it was somehow supposed to be about him.

There was no reason for him to be here right now that I couldn’t see as anything other than selfish. We were not at the point where this was going to be a warm and fuzzy father/son moment. And he damn well knew it. Pushing the issue on the day of my wedding smacked of manipulation. And it irritated me that he was pulling this right now. I came close to losing my temper. Then I took a second and made the choice to keep my cool.

This was Molly’s day. She had waited far too long for it and I would be damned if I was going to let my father fuck it up. Taking a deep breath, I let go of the door handle that I had been strangling and stepped back.

“No. I’ve got it under control. I’ll see you at the reception.” I started to swing the door shut but he walked inside before I could. Looking around the small room he picked up my discarded black bow tie from the table and turned to me.

“I could give you a hand with your bow tie if you like. Believe it or not your old man has had to tie one of these on occasion.”

His tone was light, almost self-deprecating. He was trying hard and a part of me wanted to cut him some slack. Unfortunately for him, that was the ten year old boy who desperately wanted his dad’s attention. That kid had been living in a dark corner of my mind for far too long waiting for his father’s approval that had never come. I had moved beyond needing anything from this man years ago.

Taking the tie slowly from his hand, I shook my head. The anger that had flared earlier was dissipating now, tinged by something much more sour. Pity. The powerful man that had used his family as a showpiece for years and then thrown his only son out of his house was now trying to repair the damage. But it was way too late. He was trying to build a bridge from one hill of sand to another. There was nothing for him to anchor to, and I had no desire to help him. I wasn’t going to give him a reason to make a scene by pushing him to leave. This day was going to be perfect even if it killed me. Or him.

“Thanks, but I do have to hurry to get out there before Molly sends a posse after me.” I kept my tone light, almost conciliatory. I thought my unspoken message was clear, and I saw in his eyes that he’d received it.

Too little, too late old man.

The only tell-tale sign was a stiffening of his back, a slight brittleness to his smile. Nodding to me, he moved to the door and slipped out into the hallway. For just a moment, I thought about following him. Then I shook my head and sat back down in front of the mirror. After my first fumbled attempt to tie my bow tie, a hand came over my shoulder and plucked it away from me.

“Hey little bro, let me give you a hand there.” Looking up, I saw Tamryn standing behind me. She somehow managed to look imposing in her blue bridesmaid dress, but her eyes were softer than normal. “I noticed dad come out of here. You guys have a good talk?”

I gave a humorless chuckle and turned in the seat so she could help me with my tie.

“Yes, indeed. Dear old dad was making sure to insinuate himself into a situation that he was not invited to. Another vain attempt to make things all about him.” Tamryn pursed her lips as she tied the bow tie but didn’t respond at once. Only after she was satisfied that my tie was perfectly in place did she step back and meet my eyes.

“You look great, Joseph. Your blushing bride is waiting for you down by the stream for pictures. I was sent here to make sure you get your ‘skinny butt down there’.” That earned her a real laugh.

Grabbing my hand she led me outside and we walked down the stone path toward where the photographer was snapping away. I could see the girls all in dresses matching Tamryn’s, but no Molly.

“Jojo?” Her voice was softer than I had heard it in a long time.

“Yeah, Tamz?”

“I’m proud of you.” She stated.

I felt my throat close up with emotion at the way she said it. She didn’t need to say any more. I knew what she meant. After all the bullshit I had put her through in the last few years, this was probably the last place she expected we would end up. Unable to answer her, I gave her hand a squeeze. Rounding the ancient pecan tree, I caught sight of Molly and she took my breath away.

Her wedding dress was long enough to drag on the ground, showing no glimpse of her shapely legs beneath. The top hugged her curves in a way that left my heart racing. She wore her dark hair up off her neck, and the fitted cream colored lace of her gown accentuated all the things about her that kept me distracted on a daily basis. She was so flawless that she looked airbrushed. Best of all, her arms were bare, showcasing her beautiful mural of tattoos.

The rest of the world blurred into the background as I walked to her. She caught sight of me and looked suddenly bashful, and she fidgeted as if she didn’t quite know what to do with her hands. I pulled her into my arms, kissing her as if we were the only two people on the planet. I was vaguely aware of the camera shutter whirling in the background. Our kissing went on for a couple of minutes until her annoying friend, Lisa, pulled us apart.

“We need to get this show on the road, lover boy!”

Stacy appeared beside us and handed Molly a tube of lipstick and a couple of tissues. Stacy gave me an exasperated look.

“Clean your lips off, Joe. You look a little silly in that color.”

Molly giggled and blushed, dabbing at my lips with the tissue. “Some things never change.”

“What about you? Are you wearing waterproof mascara?” I teased.

Molly’s lips curled and she pointedly avoided my eyes. “I am. But I won’t need it.”

“Oh yeah?” My tone mocked her. She cried at the drop of a hat her entire pregnancy and she hated herself for it. She wore her ‘tough girl’ belt like a champ.

“Yeah. I’m getting everything I’ve ever wanted.” She locked eyes with me and the conviction behind her words wiped the cocky grin clean off my face. “Nothing but smiles today for this girl.”

I wanted nothing more than to pick Molly up and go find us some privacy. From the look in her eyes I don’t think she would have been too upset if I had. Unfortunately, play time would have to wait.

What followed next was a crazy amount of pictures. Smile. Snap. Smile, snap. Molly cracked a lot of jokes and as usual, made it all worthwhile. Even so, when it was time for the groomsman to have their pictures taken with the bride, I was ready for a break.

“Wait!” Molly grabbed my hand and waved to the photographer. “We have a few more shots we need to get.” She led me up the stone pavers and out to the parking lot. I was about to question her when I saw a familiar vehicle waiting there.

“My old truck!” I could barely contain my giddiness at seeing the restored Ford.

Molly grinned at me then her smile faltered.

“It’s only for the pictures. I tried to buy it back, but the guy you sold it to wouldn’t budge. I explained what the truck meant to us, you know...how we almost had our first kiss in the back... and he let me borrow it for some pictures. You’re not too disappointed are you?”

I looked down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Baby, it’s perfect.”

A few hundred pictures later, I retreated inside to grab a bottle of water. When I came back out, I heard the peal of Molly’s laughter coming from the other side of the building. Rounding the corner, I saw her embracing Mason and rubbing her hand on the top of his bald head.

Turning, she caught sight of me. “Baby, did you
see
this?”

Stepping up to them, I grinned.

“He has never looked better. Though he should have gone and gotten a spray tan. Every picture he’s in will have lens flare.” Molly squinted at Mason, her expression serious.

“I love it, Mace, I really do. But Joe’s got a point. Makeup!” From inside the building Jay came rushing out caring a neon pink tool box. Stopping next to Mason, he ignored the poor guy’s objections and started brushing foundation makeup onto his bald pate.

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