Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
O n the morning of his wedding, Aiden threw up. It was a fact he would keep from Erica because she would tease him mercilessly about it. Ever since the house was finished, a mere eight days ago, she was on cloud nine, a cool customer with zero nerves or apprehension, stark contrast to the ball of anxiety she’d been the preceding months. Today he would try to borrow some of her Zen. Apparently he was going to need it.
It wasn’t that he was nervous about the wedding, or even what came after, the years and decades of blending his life with another person. It was all of it: the wedding, the marriage, the house, the bills, his family, her family, being in front of three hundred people all staring at him, having that first dance they still hadn’t mastered. None of it alone was enough to cause him so much as a flutter of anxiety. But all of it together was enough to send him into a panic spiral of massive proportions.
Thankfully his parents and his older sister, Beth, were fairly unflappable. His younger sister, Jenna, was spastic, but as the youngest in the family, it was her prerogative and no one paid her much mind, mostly because she’d been in a general state of freaking out since birth.
Like now, for instance, when he entered his parents’ kitchen, and she jumped on his back, chittering like a chipmunk. “Bah! It’s your wedding, Aiden, your wedding! ”
“Is that today?” Aiden said mildly. “I totally forgot.” Jenna was a good remedy for nerves because she was so volatile it made everyone around her want to become human Adderall as balance. She remained on his back while he prepared himself a bowl of cereal and poured the milk.
“You gonna get off me so I can eat, monkey?” he asked, but he didn’t really mind. Much as they drove him crazy sometimes, he loved his sisters.
“This is the last time you’ll be at Mom and Dad’s as a singleton. Your last breakfast as a bachelor. Better enjoy it,” Jenna said, sliding off his back. She was the type of person who made everything sound as if it should be italicized and ending in exclamation points. By all rights she should have been a cheerleader, but she shared Aiden’s lack of athleticism. Of the three, Beth was the only one who hadn’t sat the bench during the years when their parents had tried to force sports on them.
Aiden showered and when there was nothing left to do, picked up a remote and played video games for an hour. It was like being a kid again, sleeping at his parents’ house, playing games on their outmoded TV, bantering with his annoying little sister. The fact that this was the last time he would ever do so made him feel a biting sense of nostalgia. Even though he was a doctor and had been living on his own for a decade, this felt like the final step in growing up.
Finally it was time to go to the church. Aiden double-checked the tuxedo bag, his shoes, his suitcase, his wallet. Everything was in place; he was ready. It didn’t go without notice that he was getting off easy. He hadn’t had to plan the wedding, didn’t have to worry about a dress or makeup or any of the other billion things Erica likely had on her mind. He felt the urge to text her, to make sure she was doing okay. He quashed it because they had promised no contact until zero hour. They wouldn’t even do their picture together until after, not wanting to see each other until the appropriate moment. Call them old fashioned, but it was something they’d both agreed on.
Aiden’s side would do their pictures first, then clear the sanctuary so Erica’s side could do hers. He posed for the ubiquitous bro photo with his groomsmen—his best friend from growing up, Kent, his brother-in-law, George, and two friends from college he’d pulled in when his side ran short. What could he say? His world was small, and he liked it that way.
They did pictures with his parents, his sisters and Starla, the entire family with what grandparents remained, and then it was over. His mother carefully evacuated the sanctuary, everyone except Beth and Jenna who were both bridesmaids. Starla hadn’t made the cut, much to his chagrin. One of Erica’s nieces would play the role of flower girl. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, but he couldn’t get his way in everything. At least Jenna and Beth were in the wedding, something that came as a surprise to everyone because they weren’t exactly close to Erica. Like him, she didn’t seem to be close to anyone outside her family.
He retreated to the choir room he and his groomsmen had used to change into their tuxedos. His mother had lovingly provided snacks and drinks for them, and he felt a little jerking motion around his tear ducts at her thoughtfulness. His mom was always taking care of him, even when he was almost thirty and getting married.
They loaded their plates and sat down to eat. He was trying to be careful not to spill on his tuxedo. His groomsmen couldn’t have cared less about the state of their tuxes, as witnessed when a big plop of ranch dressing landed on Kent’s shirt and he used his finger to swipe it back into his mouth.
They’d been in the room about a half hour when the first buzz of weird energy began. Erica’s mom poked her head into the room, searching, and then disappeared without a word.
“That was weird,” Kent commented.
“Maybe Erica pulled a runner,” George said, laughing.
Aiden laughed too because Erica wasn’t the type to run away. She was the type to stand still, close her eyes, and hope no one saw her. Or so he thought.
When another half hour passed and two more people stuck their heads into the room, he began to feel a prickling sense of unease. But not until Beth entered the room looking solemn and sad did he really start to worry.
“I need everyone to leave,” Beth announced, standing in the center of the room. Everyone stared at her.
“Beth,” her husband, George, said. She looked at him and he looked at her, and the sort of silent communication that can only be shared by spouses passed back and forth. George stood straighter and captured two groomsmen in his clasp. “Everybody out.”
When it was only Aiden and Beth in the room, she didn’t speak or move. In fact she barely blinked, and she seemed to be holding her breath.
“Bethy?” Aiden said, his voice slightly wobbly.
She broke then, fat tears leaking from a red, crumpled face. She opened her fist and revealed a wrinkled note. Aiden stared at it as if it were poison, understanding somehow that if he took it, whatever was happening would become real. He shook his head and took a step back. Beth, ever the pragmatist, took a step forward, pressed it into his hand, and gave him a giant bear hug before turning to sprint from the room.
Aiden sank to his knees in the middle of the room and slowly opened the note. Erica’s prim handwriting stared back at him.
Aiden. A while ago you told me you would never turn into my father, never leave me that way. The thing is, I never doubted you would. That’s not who you are. My fear was always that I would turn into my father. I thought if we could only finish the house, the jitters, the restlessness, the unrelenting fear would go away and everything would be fine. But it’s not fine. I’m a runner, Aiden. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I so badly wanted it to be okay, but it’s not. Better I do it now than ten years from now when children are involved.
I’m going off grid for a while to try and get myself together. We’ll figure out the legalities later, but I don’t want the house.
Be happy, Aiden.
I’m sorry.
He had to read it three times to make his mind understand. What was she saying? She wasn’t a runner. She was the most stable person he knew, present company excluded. And she didn’t want the house? She was the only one who wanted the house. He certainly couldn’t afford it on his own. What was he supposed to do now? Default on the mortgage until his credit was destroyed?
Somehow that was the part his brain latched onto. Not that he’d been left at the altar and would now have to face hundreds of his friends and family, would be publicly humiliated in front of all of them. No, his stupid mind kept running the numbers and coming up empty. He was ruined. He would never, ever recover from this financial crisis.
His parents eased into the room, silent and gentle, afraid to do anything to shatter Aiden’s strange calm. He must appear catatonic to them, likely because they couldn’t see the calculator whirring in his brain. Would he have to ask them for money? No, he couldn’t do that to them. Dad had just retired. No way would he eviscerate their retirement to cover his own colossal screwup.
Then Jenna burst into the room, sputtering and spewing her rage, like a pint-sized volcano.
“I knew it,” she exclaimed. “I knew something like this would happen. I never liked her. She was like an iceberg. And now poor Aiden has to go out there in front of all those people.” She burst into tears, as if she were the one who’d have to face the humiliation. And he supposed in a way she was. It would fall on all of them, taint by association. Aiden was now the disgraced daughter in an Austen novel. He was Lydia, and there was no Mr. Darcy coming to restore the family’s good name.
“Jenna, please,” his mother said, her hand darting weakly to her temple. Aiden could practically hear her thoughts. Where did we go wrong? Erica seemed nice. What did we miss? What did he miss? How could his judgment have been so monumentally bad? What are we going to tell people? What’s going to happen to all that food at the reception? Are we going to have to pay for this? We’re already paying for it. I wish I had stayed in bed this morning.
It was possible he was projecting.
A new voice cleared his throat from the doorway. Everyone’s heads snapped up simultaneously, as if expecting a last minute reprieve. Just kidding, the newcomer would say. Erica was pulling a fast one on you. She’s such a prankster. She’s waiting in the wings right now. Let’s go, it’s time.
The man said none of those things, however, and why would he? He barely knew Erica.
“Yes?” his mother asked the newcomer, her tone frostier than it normally would have been. Clearly she thought he was someone from Team Erica. She was wrong; he was someone from Team Neutral.
“Mr. Kellogg,” Aiden said. His voice sounded scratchy and far off, as if someone had recorded it in a can and played it back while he moved his lips. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Mr. Kellogg is our builder.” Oh, no. Was he here to collect money? Had he heard of Erica’s dive and come to talk finances? Of course, what else could it be? He could probably smell the impending bankruptcy on Aiden. Everybody could. Fail, fail, fail. It was oozing from his pores like too much garlic.
“Can I have a word with Aiden, please? Alone.” Even though no one knew him, even though it was the middle of a crisis, everyone in his family filed silently from the room, even Jenna. Mr. Kellogg was that type of person, a huge, barrel chested man with a booming voice who commanded authority just from standing still. He would have made an amazing whaleboat captain in the nineteenth century.
I’m losing my mind, Aiden thought absently. Strangely, it was a comforting thought. He should ask the man what he wanted, but he couldn’t. So he didn’t. He simply remained staring at him as he entered the room and sank to the floor beside him, knees popping ominously. He cleared his throat.
“Uh, rumors are starting to fly out there. They say Erica has run away. That true?”
Aiden nodded. There was no sense in prevaricating. Everyone would know soon enough. Mr. Kellogg took a deep breath that seemed to suck up all the oxygen in the atmosphere. He let it out in a whoosh and spoke, as if wanting to get the words out quickly. “What about June?”
Aiden blinked, confused. “What about her?”
Mr. Kellogg cleared his throat, his gaze fastened on a pair of discarded jeans across the way. “You’re privy to June’s unique circumstances. She needs someone to take care of her, someone safe. Who safer than a doctor?” He tried to chuckle. It fell flat. He cleared his throat and started again. “It seems to me you’re in need of a bride. Marry June today, and I’ll give you the house and land.”
Aiden blinked at him, certain he’d misunderstood. “You…what?”
Mr. Kellogg didn’t repeat it. He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring, and let it out silently, causing Aiden to wonder if he was still holding it. Of course he wasn’t, though. No one could hold their breath that long.
The minutes stretched while Aiden tried to find words. “Mr. Kellogg, are you actually saying you want me to marry June, today, and in exchange you’ll wipe away all my debt with you?”
He nodded once, curtly. “I’ll deed the house and land to you, free and clear.”
Aiden was shocked and more than a little disgusted. Even in the midst of his pain, he felt the need to take a stand for June. “Even if I agreed to this, June wouldn’t. She would hate it if she knew you were here making this offer.”
It wasn’t his imagination that the older man’s cheeks went ruddy. With shame? “I’m sure you’re right. That’s why you can’t ever let her know I was here. Sometimes when you’re a dad, you do what’s best, even if it hurts.”
Thoughts swirled in Aiden’s brain, too many to latch onto. June. Erica. Himself. Debt. Bankruptcy. Public humiliation. His family. Debt. “Bring me June,” he said, sounding like Henry VIII. He hadn’t aimed for haughtiness, but apparently that was his go-to emotion in this situation.
He sat still and icy until, seemingly only a moment later, June hovered uncertainly in the doorway.