36. Tying the Knot

36

TYING THE KNOT

PATRICK

A MEMORY

This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. So why does it feel like I'll be happier when it's over?

I'm sweating buckets in this tuxedo. The sun is unforgiving. Beating down on the back of my neck. Keeping me reaching for the hankie in my pocket. Blotting every inch of exposed skin.

The ocean waves crash melodically on the sandy shore in the distance. Part of me is tempted to shuck my clothes, jump the railing, and dive into the surf.

The old saying goes: Rain on a wedding day is good luck. What does stifling summer humidity portend?

We should've gone with shorts instead of trousers. Airier fabrics. A different day. A different season…

I wish the weather would break already. Gray clouds dome over buildings in the distance. Like they're waiting to make a fashionably late entrance. Shout "I object!" with thunder and lightning right after the vows.

Bradley taps me on the shoulder. In his hand is his monogrammed hankie. Much nicer than my own. "Here," he says.

I only take it because the sweat is getting in my eyes. And my own is drenched. We should've thought this through before booking an outdoor ceremony. Though, I suppose we didn't do much of the thinking ourselves. Between our demanding jobs, most of the planning fell to Mom. Which is probably what she wanted anyway.

"At least we know you don't have cold feet," Bradley jokes. I mean, I think it's a joke. I can never tell with him. He speaks like Wednesday Addams. "Mom looks happy at least."

There she is. Front row on the left. Pivoted around in her chair to look back at us and smile. She's in a flowing white gown. ("There's no bride!" she'd said when she'd shown me what she planned to wear.) A handheld fan buzzes, blows her cropped, recently dyed hair. I'm tempted to ask her to pass it back to me.

"She does," I say. Hoping that will squash this conversation while we wait for Quinn and Veronica.

"Thanks for asking me to be best man," he says. Voice maintaining its even keel but dropping slightly in volume. I would turn to look at him more fully. But I'm honestly scared of what his eyes might tell me.

I didn't ask him anything. The title and his positioning beside me during the ceremony are entirely Mom's doing. He didn't throw me a bachelor party. He didn't write a speech, as far as I know. This is perfunctory. For the pictures. I don't even think Mom knows there's tension between us. Then, I make the boneheaded move of meeting his gaze and, weirdly, I'm not sure he knows, either.

A gusty wind blows in, carrying the scent of brine on it. It causes the gauzy, decorative fabric and string lights to rattle against their posts and test their fastenings. Women, including Mom, grab for their sun hats so they don't blow away. Right as Quinn and Veronica appear.

Quinn's forehead is shiny. His shoulders are rounded. His eyes are squinted. Veronica leads him by the arm over to the aisle inlet. We're going to walk down together. To the tune of a song from the eighties whose title I can't even remember. Maybe I wasn't even told. My mind is anywhere but here.

"Ready?" Quinn asks.

He tugs at his collar. I wonder if he's having reservations, too.

It's not that I don't love Quinn. Or don't want to get married to Quinn. It's that… Well, I look out on this place. A beach, because it's not a church. Tuxedos both, because there's no bride. It feels unlike us. Too soon, too fast, too scary.

I want to turn to Quinn. Make these thoughts known. Grab his hand and run with him back toward the safety of yesterday.

But the song— is it Aerosmith? I think it's Aerosmith —comes on, and it's too late.

The congregation stands. Bradley and Veronica walk ahead. It's happening.

Later that night, in the rose-laden newlywed suite, we're alone for the first time in forty-eight hours. And, of course, we're naked.

Quinn's heavy head finds purchase on my chest. Our legs intertwine. Knotted tightly together. A symbol of the other knot we tied today. With vows and rings exchanged, we are man and man. Made for each other. We've done it now, and even if the day flew by in a blur, I'll honor that forever.

"I promise I'm going to make every day of our lives as magical as possible." My words go unheard, though. Because not even two seconds later Quinn lets out a soft, wheezy snore. He's dozed off on top of me. I stay as still as possible and let him sleep peacefully as the night ends and our marriage begins.