The Last Hour (47 page)

Mother patted her chest, and said, “Oh, dear.”

Father just kept a sour expression on his face, but it began to shift into anger at the next words my mother spoke. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this, Ray. I can see that ... Carrie is very happy with you.”
 

She dabbed at her eyes again, and I stared in frank shock, and felt my eyes water. Did she just say that?
My
mother?

Dad, though, leaned forward and said, “Perhaps we can find a more suitable topic for discussion. I find this entire subject distressful on the day my daughter got married.”

Julia, who was sitting directly behind Dad, leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. His mouth twitched at whatever it was, and he looked away from us.

The rest of the ride, twenty-seven very long blocks into midtown, went by in silence. Ray and I sat, holding hands. He looked out the window, and I occasionally looked over to my parents. My mother looked confused and divided, as if she didn’t know whether to support Dad or me. And my father never looked in our direction at all. And the longer that ride went on, the sadder I was. Because I wanted to tell my family that I was married, and have them be happy. I wasn’t sure about my mother’s reaction, but by all signs, my
father
wasn’t going to take it well at all. I could deal with that. It was my life to live, my choice to make, even if it was a mistake, which it wasn’t. But I’d be a liar if I said that my father’s support didn’t mean something to me. I’d always been closer to him than Mother ... I’d always felt we understood each other more.
 

So the fact that he wouldn’t even look at me? It just about broke my heart.

The moment the bus came to a stop, Ray and I got to our feet. I wanted off that bus right then, and I could tell he was ready to bite someone’s head off. The bus driver opened the doors, and our feet hit the pavement. Still hand in hand, we walked toward the entrance of the hotel, and only when we’d gone about twenty feet or so did we realize that a crush of photographers and reporters were racing toward us.

“Sergeant Sherman! Do you have any news about the investigation?”

“Ray! Tell us who really pulled the trigger?”

“Miss Thompson! How is your family reacting to you dating an accused war criminal?”

In a rush of blue taffeta and curly brown hair, Julia pushed her way in front of us. “That’s enough,” she shouted. “This is a family gathering, and we have no comments. Back off!” She was backed up by Crank, who flanked us on the other side. The reporters gave him room. It had been a decade, but he’d never lived down the reputation he’d gotten from punching a photographer in his twenties.

So, we made it inside, and the security guards at the entrance of the hotel kept the reporters out.
 

Ray and I were the very first to walk into the reception, but within minutes the room started to fill, as the buses dumped off fifty guests at a time. The ballroom of the hotel was spread with seating for four hundred around the periphery, with a large space for a dance floor in the center. The tables were heavily decorated, but what caught my eye the moment I walked in stopped me in my tracks.

I pointed, and Ray said, “That rocks.” Above the head table where Alexandra and Dylan would sit was a huge screen, showing a slide show of their romance, from the day they met in Tel Aviv. A photo of them at sixteen, standing in the Mediterranean Sea together, arms around each other. The two of them, in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. A wonderful shot of Dylan with crazy long hair, Alexandra curled up against him. And then more photos. Alexandra with her roommate Kelly, and then one of Ray, Dylan and another soldier, standing together in their combat uniforms, a snowfield behind them. Ray had his arm casually thrown across Dylan’s shoulders, and the other soldier had a big, friendly grin.

Ray caught his breath when that photo went up. “That was Roberts,” he said. “Right before Christmas 2011.”

“I’m surprised Dylan included that one,” I said.

“Maybe he’s ... adjusting a little better.”

“I think so. He looks so much better than he did last fall,” I replied.

“You never get completely over it.”

I squeezed his hand and said quietly, “That’s okay, you know? It’s just one more thing I love about you.”

A quirky smile appeared on his face, and he pulled me into an embrace. “Be prepared then, wife, cause I’m about to plant a big kiss right on you.”

I felt myself flush and met his eyes. “You know, I’ve always been a sucker for a man in uniform?”

“Really?” he said, and then just barely nipped at my lower lip.

“Well ... no, I never thought about it before I met you. But if I wasn’t before, I am now. You look ... positively edible.”

“That warrants another kiss,” he said and leaned in, and this time, it was no nip.

We were still standing there, lips locked together, when I heard a familiar voice call, “Carrie!”

I pulled away, just slightly, feeling the heat in my cheeks and neck. And then I laughed out loud and said, “Oh, my God, Sean!” I grabbed Ray’s hand and pulled him across the room, and then I was grabbed in a huge hug.
 

After a moment, we separated, and I said, “Ray, this is Sean Wilson ... Crank’s brother. We’ve been friends for a
very
long time. Sean, it’s so good to see you!”

Sean reached out and awkwardly took the hand of a ravishing looking redhead with pale blue eyes. She had a sprinkle of freckles across both cheeks and her nose, and looked ... absolutely adorable. Sean’s eyes focused on my forehead, just slightly above my eyes, as he said, “Carrie, may I present my wife Heidi? Heidi, this is Carrie, and ... you said your name was Ray?”

I reached out and shook Heidi’s hand, absolutely intrigued by the woman who ended up marrying Sean. She did the same eye thing he did ... looking everywhere but directly at me. It didn’t put me off ... I’d known Sean a lot of years, and I knew quite well that crowds were hard on people with Aspergers. But then she said, her voice quite loud, “Sean, is this the woman you said you lost your virginity with?”

Several people in the crowd around us turned our way, eyes wide.

Ray coughed, loudly, and Sean said, “Heidi, you said you wouldn’t say that!”

I felt the flush in my skin run all the way up my neck and cheeks. “Well,” I said, “that’s, um … awkward.”

 
“It’s okay,” Sean said in a loud voice. “Heidi has no filter.”

“That’s not true,” Heidi said. “And she’s a grown woman, Sean, she’s got nothing to be ashamed of.”

I grinned, trying to force my way past the embarrassing flush on my cheeks. “That’s true,” I said.

“So, um, Sean,” Ray said, a twinkle in his eye. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot in common.”

Oh. My. God!
He was making fun of me! I slapped Ray on the shoulder, and not softly.

He just smirked. “It’s really nice to meet both of you. Carrie’s told me a lot about you, Sean, though maybe not everything.”

I gave Ray a withering look. I’m sure he had a past too, though we’d never really discussed it. He was mine now; that was all that mattered. A waiter came by, and Ray grabbed us drinks. We continued chatting with Sean and Heidi, until the lights dimmed, then came back up and dimmed again three times.
 

“That’s our signal,” I said. I reached out and took Heidi’s hand. “Really great to meet you, Heidi. We’re on the east coast now ... I’d love to come visit you two sometime. Or if you wanted to visit DC?”

She said, “I’d love to see Washington.”

Sean and I hugged, and just to spite Ray I gave him a big wet smooch on the cheek. Then Ray and I walked up to the head table.
 

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asked.

“You’re such an asshole,” I said, but I said it lightly.

“Oh, good. You had me worried there for a second.”

“It’s not like you don’t have any past girlfriends.”

He chuckled. “Relax, Carrie. I actually thought it was kind of funny. I’m assuming we’re not going to have like ... a bunch of past lovers popping up at the reception, are we?”

I took his arm, wrapped my left hand around it, then punched it with the right.

“Ow!” he said and then we both burst into laughter. He pulled me close and said, “Just for the record. The thought of anyone else touching you, even in the past tense, makes me want to completely fucking freak. But it’s the past, I get it.”

And then he kissed me again, and it was okay.

So, we all sat down for the reception. Dylan and Alexandra sat in the center of a long table, with me in between Dylan and my father, which was difficult. On the other side, Ray was in between Alexandra and my mother. As the meal was being served, I leaned close to my father, and I said, “I’m not going to say anything else about it after this, so there’s no need to defend yourself. But your behavior toward Ray was inexcusable. I doubt you’ll do it now, but one of these days, I expect an apology from you.”

And then I turned away from him. Let him deal with Julia, who was on his other side. I turned to Dylan and said, “I just want you to know, you guys had the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe except for one,” he replied, teasing.

“Right,” I said with a wink. “But that one’s a secret for now,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to take away from Alexandra’s day.”

He just smiled. A little while later, it was time for the toasts. Ray gave the first one, then me, then our parents. Dinner was finished, and the toasts were continuing, when Julia stood up and called, “It’s time for the first dance! Dylan and Alexandra, the dance floor is yours!”

The partiers were all pretty drunk at this point, so there was a lot of clapping, but Alexandra stood and held a hand in the air. “Wait!” she called. Then she grabbed the microphone.

“I need to propose a toast first,” she said. I leaned in my seat, watching her. She was radiant in that dress, and she looked as happy as I’ve ever seen her. As she started to speak, she rested a hand on Dylan’s shoulder, and my eyes darted to Ray. He met my eyes and gave me a smile.

“I want to propose a toast to two people who mean ... everything ... to me and Dylan,” she said quietly. And I froze. She turned to me and said, “Most of you know that when we were growing up, we moved, a lot. Every three years we were some place new ... I remember living in Moscow, and before that Washington, and before that China. So until I went to high school I didn’t get a chance to have ... friends who stayed around. Or anyone else my age who really knew what I was going through. But there was one person I could always turn to. Whenever I ... stubbed my toe. Or needed help with my homework. Or cried over a boy. She was always, always there. My big sister Carrie.”

She sniffed, and then said, “Most of you also probably don’t know that a year and a half ago, Dylan was badly injured in Afghanistan. And ... as he’s told me the story ... the person who bandaged his wounds, and made sure he got to safety, was Ray Sherman.”

 
She looked at Ray, and I could see tears in her eyes, and they were in mine too, as she said, “Dylan said that as he was losing consciousness, nearly bleeding to death in a remote region of Afghanistan, the only thing he could hear was Ray’s voice. Telling him it was going to be okay. And not just in war, but at home, Ray has been ... a gift. He helped bring me and Dylan back together when I didn’t think that could ever happen. And for that, I’ll always love you, Ray.”

I grabbed a napkin and wiped tears off my face, because tears were running freely and it was completely screwing up my makeup.
 

Alex turned to the crowd and said, “Carrie and Ray are two of the most selfless people I’ve ever met. They both said they didn’t want to ruin
my
wedding day with their announcement, because they thought it might overshadow it.”

Oh. Shit.
I met Ray’s eyes, and I could feel mine grow wide, and he just shrugged and grinned.

Alexandra continued. “But I can’t go out there and have the dance with my husband, unless Carrie gets hers too. Because yesterday, in a quiet ceremony, Carrie and Ray became husband and wife.”

I was paralyzed with shock. She didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to do it at all. I stood up, weeping, and pulled my little sister into a hug. There was a stunned silence, and then someone started clapping, and then someone else, and then the screaming and catcalls and cheers started. Over Alexandra’s shoulder I saw my mother hugging Ray
and crying
and somehow I knew then that everything was going to be okay.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said in Alexandra’s ear, my voice rough.

“I wanted to. Now let’s go dance with our husbands.”

So the music started, and I shivered. Because it wasn’t what I expected at all. Not a song that was Alexandra and Dylan’s. It was
Falling Slowly,
from the musical Ray and I saw together in Houston. The four of us went to the dance floor, and when we got there, we put our rings back on, and then I was in Ray’s arms, and I couldn’t in a million years have imagined a better wedding.
 

When the dance was over, it was time for the father to dance with the bride, which was going to be ... difficult ... after what I’d said to him at the beginning of the reception. So Alexandra went first, and I waited on the sidelines, and then when they were done, it was my turn.

We danced like robots. Worse, we danced like people who had severely wounded each other. Halfway through the song, he said, “This came as a surprise.”

“I told you I loved him, Dad.”

He nodded. “You were correct to demand an apology. Please forgive me. I was concerned about your welfare. But I’d have to be completely blind not to see how much you love each other. And what Alexandra said about ... well, both of you. It was touching. It made me feel that I hardly know you at all.”

I swallowed and said, “Dad, you don’t have to…”

“No. You know, your mother and I have been telling ourselves for ten years that we’d be better parents. That we wouldn’t let you down or hurt you. But I know we did. You ... Alexandra ... especially Julia. What I want more than anything in the world is for you girls to be happy. And somehow I keep doing exactly the wrong thing.”