“It sounds wonderful. Meaningful.”
I nodded. “It is.”
Then April and her mother’s voices were suddenly quite above polite conversational levels. “Gotta go.” I paused. “Don’t worry. Thanks for reminding me why I was at this wedding. I’m here to make sure my best friend isn’t overwhelmed. If I can sneak some extra support for your boyfriend, I’ll do it.” I held up a finger. “But I want you to be aware that I’m doing it for you, not for the jackass.”
She laughed. “I knew you were the right woman for the job.”
Then the two of us peeled off to different sides of the party, looking to take care of our different dear responsibilities who were not coping well with this lovely wedding.
Chapter Two: Jack
Seven Years Later
It was early evening, and Duke’s bar was kind of slow for a Friday, although it was still early and there was a heavy yellow light coming in through the front window. I’d been at the bar for at least three hours. Longer than I should have probably, but I’d just returned to my apartment after a grueling trip to Somalia to photograph the Bantu people. The people were lovely, but they were remote. When it was over and I had survived my multiple connecting flights to get home, the rooms were empty, cold, and lifeless.
After so much warmth and love in Somalia, I felt at loose ends. So, of course the answer was to sit at Duke’s bar with a whiskey and slowly settle back into the neighborhood, the country, and myself. It was taking a while. I needed to eat, so I waved Duke over. He took my burger order and then filled up my glass without asking.
“How’s married life treating you?” Duke had gotten married to my stepsister Lissie, in a surprise wedding right before I left for my trip. And not too long before that, my sister April had gotten married to Beau. Everyone was getting matched up. I felt out of the loop, on the outside. Life was changing, and the old ways were being shed like a snakeskin. Was I changing with them? Or was I so busy running away to travel the world that I was the same old Jack as I’d always been? The thought made me uncomfortable. “Are you happy as a husband?”
He grinned and clinked my glass with his own. “Great. I never actually thought marriage would be so nice. Lissie is the best thing in my life.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, swallowing down a feeling that I couldn’t identify. Or didn’t want to identify. “I’m happy for you both. You deserve it.” My stepsister and my best friend. It was a good thing, right?
Duke caught the look on my face, though. He had that bartender thing where he could read whoever sat across the bar from him and know what was going on with them. He cocked his head. “Do you ever think about settling down and getting married?”
“Me?” The feeling pinched my insides. That was what it was. The thought of love, of falling in love, of being in love again. Did I want to? Was I lonely? I was lonely, yes, but the thought of finding someone new, searching for them, risking my heart again, risking the failure and the pain— being able to hurt another human being like I had hurt Marissa out of nothing but a self-centered concern with my own tragedy? “I tried to do that once. It didn’t work out.”
Duke leaned his forearms across the bar. “She died, Jack. It’s not like it didn’t work out for some relationship problem. It’s not something you had any control over.”
I could feel the grimace on my face. “The fifth anniversary of her suicide passed while I was in Somalia. I knew it was coming. I wanted to get away. I think I didn’t want it to come and go while I was around people I knew. I wanted to . . . ” I couldn’t say what I wanted. “I don’t know. Just keep on doing my work without everyone asking me if I was okay.”
“You wanted to move on with your life? You’re allowed to. Marissa was a wonderful woman, but she died. And it wasn’t your fault.”
I shrugged and drank deeply. He could say that, but I’d treated her the way my dad treated my mom, without concern for her needs or emotions or self, and no matter how I recognized that it was wrong, I kept doing it. I couldn’t help myself. I had been so angry. I wasn’t angry at her; I was angry at my dad, but I took it out on her. And she was the one who took the brunt of it. “She was a gentle person. And I was not gentle with her.” Years of therapy and soul-searching and traveling the world looking for beauty like Marissa had looked for beauty had finally made a change in me, but it was too late for her.
“It was a terrible tragedy, but you can let it go now. You’re a good guy, Jack. Maybe a little full of yourself—”
“Thanks.”
“—But that’s not a reason to beat yourself up for five years. You’re allowed to love someone.” He leaned forward as if imparting some wisdom. “You’re allowed to be loved by someone.”
A knife twisted in my gut. That was it. That was the thing. I felt wanting love was wrong. I wasn’t allowed to be loved, as punishment.
Marissa had been too good for me, and I didn’t value her enough when I had her. I’d learned my lesson, but I still felt like I didn’t deserve to try again. But I wanted to. I wanted to love someone and be loved in return. I wanted to try again, to do better this time.
The door jingled and Duke lit up with joy. “Speaking of. Here’s my girl.” He came around the bar and swept Elisabeth into his arms. I watched everything, the way the summer evening sun slanted through the still open door, how her golden hair lit up like it was glowing, casting them both in a halo of love as they embraced. I didn’t have to search the world to see love, it was right here with my best friend and my stepsister.
I wished I had my camera to capture that moment when her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he bent his head to tuck his nose into the place where her shoulder and neck met. Light bounced around the room and made it resonant.
Then the moment passed. Their hug ended and April and Mona came in behind them, intruding on the shadows and light that formed the composition.
“Break it up, lovebirds,” Mona said, bumping them as she passed. “Get a room already.”
“I own the bar. I think that counts as a room,” Duke said, not at all put out.
“That’s true. Get me a Guinness, bar man.”
“Right away, hippie girl.” Duke kissed Elisabeth one more time before heading back behind the bar, poking Mona in the side so she squeaked and jumped. Her smile was so bright and pure it hit me like a bat to the head.
Mona shimmered in the magical summer air, and shook her head, so that her brown curls danced about her bare shoulders and showed how golden her soul glowed. I was stunned by her incandescence, set in the body of a woman who hated me and who could be considered my nemesis. Now, that was a terrible thing. I could remember our many arguments over the years, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why we fought.
I hadn’t seen her in a while. Had she always been so beautiful? Had her skin always been that warm shade of golden brown or her eyes quite so sparkling with glints of gold in the chocolate depths? Of course she had. She looked the same. What was the difference?
Mona sat at the bar and spotted me. “Ugh. It’s you. Why are you here?”