Chapter 11
Geo’s smirk is really getting on my fucking nerves. I kick him under the table, and his stupid grin gets bigger. “Stop it. Seriously.”
He sips his brandy. “I don’t want to stop. It’s getting on your nerves.”
I roll my eyes and unleash a sigh that brings my son out of the other room, glasses hooked on the front of his pullover. I wave him off, because I’m in dangerous waters, and don’t need him there to witness it. Nor does he need to be involved.
“Should we have a cigar?” I ask, peering at the clock on the wall.
“We’ll have one on the balcony, after the ceremony, during the reception,” Cade says, stroking his hand through his hair, a little antsy. “I’m gonna run down and grab Noah, he just messaged that he’s here,” he says, mentioning his friend and fellow professor at the university.
With my son gone, I face my brother, who is still wearing a glorious smirk. “You need my advice, don’t you?” he basks.
I roll my eyes again, and finish my brandy. “Never.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join him. We’re mature men, but we will never not bicker like brothers.
Our laughter fades, and I rise from my chair and stretch my suspenders, slipping them on in unison before adding my suit jacket. I get to work on my tie, and eye my older brother in the mirror’s reflection. “What?”
He sips the last of his brandy. “I saw you take Juliette Wilson outside at the rehearsal last night.”
Looping the soft fabric, I pull a knot and lift it to my collar. “Then you saw her come back inside with her boyfriend, too. And go home with him.”
Geo blinks at me, watching me put the touches on the Italian silk tie. “I saw her take a taxi, and leave alone.”
I turn and face him, discomfort sitting on my chest. “He didn’t take her home? It was late. And dark. And fucking cold.”
Geo gets to his feet, and slips his suit jacket on, too. “They… argued," he says, seemingly like he’s deciding on that word, as if he isn’t sure how to categorize their exchange. “Then she took a taxi, and he left right after.”
“At least he chased her,” I hear myself saying, though I don’t want him to chase her, because I don’t want him to have her. She’s worth so much more than a person that tries to change her, that I know for sure.
“He shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place,” my brother says, slipping his cuff link into his coat.
“No,” I agree, “he shouldn’t have but he’s a little fucking prick so I’m not surprised.”
Geo stops, arm extended, cuff link shimmering between his fingers. “That’s a big opinion to have of your grown daughter’s best friend’s boyfriend, a man in which you should have little to no opinion of.”
I roll my eyes and pop my cuff. “Why didn’t you tell me she was leaving?”
His smirk is too wide and too bright for his own good. “And why would I race to tell you that Juliette Wilson is leaving? Why would you care to know this information after that woman has come and gone beneath your nose at a hundred events over the years? Hm? Why now?”
I pour another brandy that I definitely don’t need, and finish it with a hiss. “Shut up.”
His laughter is the last thing I hear before I traipse into the private room attached to the one we’re in, and slam the door closed.
From my pocket, I produce the speech I wrote the night Kat and Zennie got engaged.
As challenging as it is, I push Juliette Wilson aside in my mind, and get to work perfecting what I’m going to say on my little girl’s big day.
The ceremony was perfect. Kat and Zennie planned a beautiful wedding, and one unlike any I’ve attended.
When I opened the bag with my tie in it the other day, I admit, I was nervous seeing merlot red.
But the way their dark color schemes helped paint the portrait of their love was amazing.
Photos hung along the walls color coded in the progression of their love various shades of gray, then sepia, ending in various hues of crimson.
Creative, unique, emotional–the photo progression tying in the wedding colors was, of course, Juliette’s idea, and her name is sketched at the bottom of each.
The music, the food–everything has been tremendous, and Kat and Zennie, in their off-white gowns, look like the two most beautiful, happy people I’ve ever seen.
I understand now why brides are always referred to as glowing, because they are.
Their happiness and love is radiating off of them, filling the space with an undeniably good energy.
Juliette looked like a painting in the flesh, as she stood with her bare feet in the sand, wind tossing strands of honey hair over her full lips.
I choked on my breath when I first laid eyes on her, that low cut dress scrambling my wholesome thoughts completely.
When she spotted me in the crowd, after I’d given Kat away, she let go of her bouquet with one hand and waved, her cheeks a little pink from my eyes on her.
Then she didn’t look at me again, and I know because I don’t think I took my eyes off of her.
At my own daughter’s wedding.
But now, with waiters passing out champagne and cake being sliced–the very cake that Juliette and myself selected that day–it’s time for my speech. And I’ve done a good job focusing on the brides for the afternoon.
After a slow dance with Elle, I’m called to make my speech.
Stepping on stage, paper in hand, the band closes out their song, the drummer holding his cymbal with one hand as he nods for me to go.
Pulling the mic off the stand, I switch it on, and greet the room full of familiar faces.
Kat and Zennie went intimate, so aside from a few of Zennie’s coworkers, I’m well-versed with everyone here.
Doesn’t make the speech easier, though.
“Don’t worry, cake is coming so I won’t keep you all too long. I just wanted to say a few words and then I'll drown my emotions in frosting and alcohol like every good Father of the Bride,” I begin, smiling as the room laughs, helping me ease into my speech.
Then I see those eyes that steal my breath, those sparkling sapphire eyes, the ones that could bring a million men to their knees, if only they were lucky enough to see them.
I swallow against the sudden clog of desire in my throat, and shoot Juliette a wink, completely nonplussed by the fact her boyfriend is at her side.
I return my focus to my speech, but it’s not easy.
“Kat, my only daughter, my favorite daughter, the only one of my children who actually calls me on my birthday–” another break for light laughter, and a few women wag their finger at Cade, who rolls his eyes at my joke.
“You remind me so much of your mother that there are times when looking at you feels like looking at her.” My voice is suddenly rough, and the room is suddenly quiet.
I don’t mention Katherine often, if ever.
At first, it was to avoid the rush of pain that always consumed me when her face flashed through my mind, or memories hit.
But as time went on, it was out of selfishness.
To keep those memories and emotions all to myself.
But today is about Kat.
“She would be so proud of the woman you’ve become, the free-spirit, hard-working, side-splitting joker that you are–every part of you would bring her the greatest joy, and if she were here, she’d love you too Zennie, I can promise you that.
Because you make our daughter so happy, you’ve helped her blossom, and knowing that the two of you have each other to get through this life brings me so much peace, you just, you don’t know how happy it makes me.
” I lift a flute that’s been slipped into my hand by a quiet waiter.
“A toast to Kat and Zennie, and a lifetime of happiness together. I love you both very much. Congratulations and Zen, welcome to the Mercer family.”
There are teary eyes and cheers, and I find my daughter and daughter-in-law in the crowd of happy faces, collecting them both in my arms.
“I didn’t want to cry on my wedding day,” Kat sniffles, using her blue handkerchief gifted to her by her cousin’s wife, Avery, but manages a crooked smile.
“Thank you for being an incredible father all of these years,” she whispers, batting her lashes as tears fill her eyes.
“I know Mom would be proud of the job you did. I mean look at me,” she teases, stepping back to twirl in her gorgeous gown.
“I can’t stop,” I admit, grabbing her mid-twirl to bring her knuckles to my lips.
I kiss her hand, over her new wedding band, and hug her one more time as Zennie hugs her father, who’s just given his own speech.
“You did it. You found your other half. In a world with eight billion people, you found the person that completes you.” I hand her the rest of my champagne.
“If that isn’t a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is. ”
Her smile falters, and she doesn’t toast my words. “I love Zennie, and I believe she’s my soulmate, but Dad, I don’t think there is only one person for each of us.” She slides the champagne onto a tall table nearby, without looking, her brows pulling together. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Katherine was my soulmate. I was hers. It’s hard to imagine a world where that type of connection happens twice. Shrugging, I tell her the truth with the most upbeat spin possible. “I don’t know if I’ll ever have another soulmate, but I’ll have a good time looking.”
She rolls her eyes, and I can’t even be mad because she got that from me.
“You’ve been looking for years. It doesn’t mean you love Mom any less if you remarry.
” Her smile fades. “Just a thought.” With her hand on my forearm, she squeezes gently before rocking to her toes and kissing my cheek.
“I love you, Dad. And I want you to be happy. As happy as I am.”