46. Bargain for a Tuxedo
46
BARGAIN FOR A TUXEDO
REX
“Gents, here’s to our man of the hour, my little brother Rex Maximillion Buchanan. Cheers to the groom!” Richard hailed, holding up a glass of Macallan fifty-year-old single malt Scotch whisky—and smelling as though he’d already downed a bottle on his way to the custom fitting today.
He generously poured a glass for each of us from one of the finest bottles in Dad’s old collection. Mom allowed us to indulge a bottle from it on special occasions.
“Cheers,” Sam Astor said. I hadn’t interacted with my mother’s husband much the past year as he’d been dealing with some business affairs of his in Singapore, often away for weeks at a time. The arrangement seemed to suit Miriam fine, what with their ages and their own interests to attend to. Besides, we all knew she wore the pants in the family.
Several years after Dad passed away, they’d met one New Year’s night at a fundraising gala, right after Miriam had admitted to Richard and me how lonely she was without Dad. Sam proved exactly what she needed at the right time, and I held no resentment toward him at all. In many ways, he kept her life busy enough to stay out of ours.
“Salut,” the other groomsmen chimed in.
“Down the hatch.” Brody added with his usual charm that helped him build his successful real estate empire, much like mine, but he dove more into rental property than I did.
“Thanks, everyone. Through the years, you’ve all been there for me, so it means a lot to have you be a part of my wedding day.” All the men standing in the middle of renowned David Irwin’s Custom Tailor shop—my brother as my best man, Gage, Xander, Ford, and Brody as my four groomsmen, Brooks and Archer as ushers—had yet to be tied down. Safe to say I was breaking new ground among the group.
“As the first among us to take that trip down the aisle, I commend your bravery,” Ford guffawed, with a hint of his Aussie accent to it. In our college days, his accent gained him plenty of attention from the ladies.
“Hope I’m a good example for you?—”
“Better than I was,” Richard interrupted me with a snort, tipping his glass, emptying it and reaching for more.
“Slow down, man. It’s mid-afternoon. You’ll crash before we get to Jamison’s for poker and barbecue.” I slapped his back and warned him, right as India and her filming crew stepped inside.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. If I have to sit here and watch you bask in pre-wedding bliss, then I’ll do it drunk,” he seethed, albeit with slurred words, and the cameraman quickly tried to get it all on camera.
“Trouble in the family, Rex?” India shoved the microphone my way.
“Nothing that concerns you or the viewers. I believe David is waiting for you to set up right over there. Excuse us.” I took my brother by the elbow and led him several feet away. “What the hell, man? Mom will be here any minute. Straighten up.”
“Fine, but I’ll be damned if I bring a date to the wedding just to make our mother happy,” he said, referring to the bet our bridal party had made, thanks to Miriam’s threats to match the bridesmaids and groomsmen together. My city guys and Chelsea’s country girls were like oil and water, and didn’t mix well at all at a gathering in Holly Creek earlier this month where we’d arranged for everyone to meet.
It all came to a head and the next thing we knew, Gage proposed a bet to see who would arrive at the wedding with their own plus ones. It was genius, actually, and got Miriam off everyone’s backs. For now. But the pressure was on with the bridal party, each trying to find their own dates, with a charitable donation and an embarrassing chicken dance at stake on my wedding day if they didn’t.
I left Richard slumped against the wall. With the mood he exhibited, it was best to leave him there until he was absolutely needed for measurements. He clearly had lingering issues. If he was like this in late July, how would he be by December?
I tapped a note on my phone to talk with Mom about getting him some help, then read through fifteen messages from her, warning me not to start selecting the type of tuxes we’d all wear until she arrived.
Chelsea had work to catch up on and, knowing Miriam would have things under control, decided she would rather be surprised and trusted that I’d be her handsome groom the day we said I do.
The difference between my mother and my bride couldn’t be more vast, with Mom micromanaging every detail, and Chelsea giving me one simple request, to match the color of red ties the groomsmen would wear with the color of the bridesmaids’ gowns.
I checked for the millionth time for the berry red fabric swatch in my pocket as I sauntered over to where Brooks and Archer stood. “Did you and Maisy patch things up?”
“Not really,” Brooks replied.
“Ha. Pay up,” Archer chuckled and held out his hand. I plucked a crisp hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and paid him off. Brooks grimaced at our little side bet.
“We talked and said goodbye and that was it. I’d love nothing more than to be the man for her, but she’s young yet and on this big journey, her future career at stake. Whatever,” he filled in. Something told me he was far from over her.
“He’s back on the market like me.” Archer clinked his brother’s glass.
“Oh yeah? Who’s your date for the wedding, then?” I asked, but Brooks looked the other way. He wasn’t fooling me about how deep his feelings for Maisy ran. All things considered, we’d always gotten along well, and he’d make a decent brother-in-law if things ever progressed between the two of them.
“Too bad Tucker’s too busy with off-season hockey training out in California to make it home.” Archer elbowed him. “We’d be the three Bellamy brothers again, each other’s wingmen, and breaking hearts in the city this summer.”
“What happened to—” I started to ask about his girlfriend.
“Don’t even say her name. It took three breakups between us for me to finally be done with her.” Archer’s news about his ex was good to hear. She never struck me as being good enough for him. Same way with Janet for Richard. Guilt sometimes hit me for not doing more earlier on to help Richard see Janet for the bitch she really was.
“I’m here,” Miriam announced, breezing through the door and kissing Sam on the cheek. Despite the heat outside, Mom appeared fresh in a tan linen dress, belted at the waist in black leather with matching shoes. It didn’t stop her from sounding like a militant shrew and every man in the room braced for impact.
“Before we begin, I must insist you do away with this foolish bet,” she announced, with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “It’s a wedding, and surely you can put up with a bridesmaid to dance with for one night. They are all fine ladies, I’m sure.”
India was standing nearby with the cameras rolling and her interest piqued. “What’s this about a bet? Tell me more.” She poked the microphone in my face. I had no choice then but to explain what had happened, and when I was through, all she could do was laugh, with no follow-up questions, thankfully.
“Mrs. Buchanan, with all due respect,” Ford started and cleared his throat, stepping forward to speak for the team. “The bridesmaids are probably lovely. But being matched doesn’t make for a fun chase now, does it? And you know how we blokes love the thrill of the chase when it comes to women.”
Ford winked at her and got her to at least break into a smile. He always had a way about him. Some might even say he was somewhat flirty with my mother, or else it was his Aussie-accented charm that got to her. Either way, ever since we met in college, he seemed to know how to manage her quite well.
She patted his cheek. “Yes. Men do love a good chase. So I expect all of you to have a date or there will be consequences.”
I quickly diverted her attention. “David, let’s get started. We’re ready to see what you recommend.”
“Yes, every suit must be exquisitely tailored for Rex and these fine men. Even for Richard.” Miriam followed the tailor, and my brother groaned in the corner.
“But of course, Madam. Let me show you the latest in fashionable custom formal wear,” David crowed in her presence and led her to a plush chair fit for a queen, like he knew who was the one making all the decisions and footing the bill, while the rest of us stood around her like lapdogs.
A few male models paraded in front of us as David explained the different styles. It became instantly clear Miriam was in favor of formal tails and bow ties.
“I’d prefer a more modern, lean look,” I spoke up, and the guys nodded agreement with me.
“Don’t be silly, Rex. For a formal Christmas wedding, tails and bow ties are the only way to go.” Miriam huffed about it. I glanced around the shop, once again in the position of wanting to make my mother happy, while trying to achieve some spirit of my own—a delicate balance. With Richard sulking and the guys interested in how I’d handle this, the pressure was on. But before I could get another word in, she stood and reached for her things.
“David, start taking measurements. Of course, you have Sam’s from the last suit I had made for him. Come, Sam. We have another appointment to get to, so we’re off.” She waved us on as if a queen who had given her decree, and waltzed toward the door with Sam in tow, but I stopped them short.
“I disagree. I want a modern tuxedo with a satin notch lapel and vest,” I said.
“And I want your prenup,” her eyes glared. “I’ve waited long enough. Where is it?”
“What are you saying? I give you the prenup and I can have the tuxedo I want?” I scowled. Richard stalked over and I shut him down with daggers shooting from my eyes before he could speak.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Look, I understand where you and Richard are coming from. I just need a little more time. I’ll deliver it personally to your lawyers soon. ”
With a smug, satisfied smile, she left with her nose in the air.
“You don’t have the prenup signed yet, do you?” Richard chortled.
“Shut the fuck up.” One mother-sized headache quickly multiplied when India and the camera man assaulted me.
“Tell us more about the prenup,” she said.
“Yes, tell us more.” Richard folded his arms, daring me to expose my lie.
“That’s none of anyone’s business but mine. Now, David, measure us all for the modern look, and forget the tails.” I filled my glass with more whisky and drank a mouthful, swallowing to feel the burn. India came up behind me.
“Why don’t I interview you while the others are being measured?” She suggested.
I sighed and stopped all the plotting and planning in my head how to put off the prenup discussion with Chelsea, and put off Mom, as long as possible. “Sure. Let’s get this over with.”