Chapter 9
Levi
The Best Man
“Hey, Josh! Long time, no hear,” I say when my phone rings the next morning. After our DoorDash “date” I was hoping it was Bailey who was calling, but instead it’s a friend I haven’t spoken to for a while.
“Levi, sorry I’ve not been in touch. But I have been following your games. That short-handed goal at the game against the Wizards was awesome.”
Unfortunately, that happened during a game over a month ago and I haven’t recreated that form recently.
“Thanks. What’s the reason for the call?”
He groans. “This is horribly embarrassing. Let me just start out by apologizing that I didn’t invite you to my wedding. We’re under a tight budget, so I spent all my allotted seats inviting family.”
Josh comes from a large family, so it isn’t surprising, but I’m still a little miffed that he didn’t even tell me he was getting married. Josh and I have been friends since freshman year when he was my lab partner in Biology 101. He’s pursuing a vet degree while I’m studying to be a high school science teacher if my hockey career doesn’t pan out.
“I didn’t even know you were getting married. Congratulations! Are you marrying the florist?”
“I am! Her name is Sydney and she’s terrific. The wedding is the reason for my call. My cousin, Todd, who I don’t know if you’ve met, eloped and left me without a best man. I was wondering if you could fill in for him.”
What? Did I hear him correctly?
“You want me to be your best man?”
A nervous laugh floats across the line. “After Todd split, I knew you would be the perfect replacement.”
Feeling somewhat mollified by his explanation as to why I wasn’t invited in the first place, I say, “You’ve caught me by surprise. But sure, I’d be happy to fill-in. When’s the wedding?”
“Saturday at 2PM.”
My eyes widen. This wedding is at the same time as Bailey’s cousin’s wedding. What are the odds?
“Oh! I’m sorry, man, but I’m committed to attending another wedding at that exact same time.”
“And you can’t get out of it? I’m kind of desperate here,” he says.
I imagine Bailey’s disappointed face and know I can’t do that to her. “Sorry, but I just started dating this woman and I can’t back out.”
There’s a long pause on the other end. “Okay, I understand. But it seems weird there’s another wedding at the exact same time. What’s the bride and groom’s name?” he asks.
His point is well taken. This isn’t June, so it’s not the most popular wedding month of the year.
An embarrassed laugh escapes, and I give myself a mental head slap. I never bothered to ask Bailey for the bride and groom’s name. “The wedding is my new girlfriend’s cousin. Bailey’s last name is Adams, so maybe the bride’s last name is Adams?” This explanation sounds really lame; I cringe.
“Bailey Adams?” Josh says, his rumbly laugh pierces my left ear. He laughs for several seconds, leaving me wondering if he knows Bailey. I mean, her name is not humorous like Amelia Bedelia or Sue Blue or Fay Day.
Finally, he gets his mirth under control and says, “Bailey is my fiancée’s cousin. You’re attending my wedding.”
“No kidding?” We both laugh at the coincidence.
“So, now that there’s no conflict in schedule,” Josh says between chuckles, “Will you be my best man?”
Feeling guilty over leaving Bailey to sit by herself during the ceremony and probably the dinner, I hesitate. Hoping he gets the hint, I reply, “Bailey is expecting me to accompany her the whole time at the wedding.”
“Oh! You don’t know!” Josh chortles.
“Don’t know what?”
“Syd just texted me that Bailey is going to be her maid of honor.”
“No kidding?” I repeat these words for the second time during this surreal conversation. “Did the best man elope with the maid of honor?” I joke.
Another laugh barrels from Josh’s lips. “They did! This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it? You and Bailey must be destined to be together,” he teases.
Are we? Her matchmaking grandmother is going to get a kick out of this for sure.
“Please don’t elope before 2PM on Saturday,” Josh adds with a cackle.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, certain in that fact. There’s as much chance of Bailey and I eloping in the next two days as the Anaheim Ducks winning the Stanley Cup this year. Zero. Zilch. Nada.
“You’re in?” Josh reiterates.
“Yes, of course. Where should I rent the tux?”
“At The Fancy Penguin on 5 th street. They know all the particulars. I’ll give you their email so you can send them your size to get a tux reserved right away. I assume you can try the tux on tomorrow sometime just in case it needs a few tweaks?”
“Yes, I’ll make sure to get over there in the morning.”
“Thanks, man! You’re a wedding saver,” he says, then signs off.
Still chuckling from this turn of events, I swipe my phone and call Bailey; this conversation warrants a call not a text.
“Levi! You won’t believe what just happened!” Bailey says excitedly, picking up on the first ring.
“You’re the maid of honor and I’m the best man in your cousin’s wedding on Saturday,” I reply calmly.
“You know about this?!” she squeals. “So, you’ve already spoken to Josh?”
“I have. I just need to rent a tux and I’ll be ready.”
Groaning, she says, “You’ve got it easy. Sydney’s mom is going to have to alter the maid of honor dress if we can’t find another one.”
“A few alterations shouldn’t be too bad.” I imagine maybe hemming the length and taking in the waistline. Bailey is short and svelte.
“Think again! I just played human pincushion for the last half hour. My aunt had to pin almost every square inch of fabric.”
“A tuck here and there should be doable,” I say, as if I’m an expert tailor.
“I looked like a little kid playing dress up in her mother’s clothing. It was that bad.”
Maybe she needs to purchase a new dress.
“Can’t you just buy a new dress?” I ask.
Another groan accompanies my suggestion. “They’ve themed the entire wedding around the color of this dress. It’s mint green and we’re afraid we can’t match that color with an off-the-rack dress.”
Weddings sure are complicated. Maybe the best man and maid of honor had the right idea. Elope.
“Describe the dress to me, I’m intrigued.”
“Off the shoulder, with a revealing sweetheart neckline and plunging back. Let’s just say the original maid of honor is quite curvy. Get the picture? I look like I’m wearing a saggy curtain.”
Could anything look worse than that oversized sweatshirt Bailey bought at the hockey game? Just in time, I bite my tongue, wisely not mentioning that little tidbit. “I’m sure you’re going to look gorgeous in the dress and I can’t wait to see it.” Especially the revealing and plunging parts.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she says, blowing out a sigh. “How do I get myself into these wardrobe mishaps?” she adds, as if vocalizing her thoughts.
Deciding to change the subject, I say, “Do you want to meet at the church rather than have me pick you up?”
Another loud sigh tingles in my ear. “Yes. The bride, mother of the bride, and I are meeting at the church at 11AM to get our glam on. Syd hired a makeup and hair specialist.”
Wow! Three hours to get ready? That’s a lot of glam.
“I can’t wait to see the results. Seriously, Bailey. You’re going to look like a million bucks.”
“Or the kid who found her mom’s bridesmaid dress in the attic.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it, but I quickly cover it with a cough. “I’ve got to run to practice. Good luck on the alterations.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it,” she says and hangs up.
Despite Bailey’s defeated tone of voice, I’m sure her cousin and her aunt will have her looking like a red carpet movie star on Saturday. I can’t wait to see my fake girlfriend wearing that dress.