Chapter 73
Seventy-Three
To say I’ve dreaded today is an understatement. Townshend is getting married and it’s the first time my mother and father will be in the same location in years. It freaks me out, and I’m doomsdaying all the ways this could go wrong.
My dad could get drunk and belt out some belligerent tirade, belittling Mom, me, my brothers.
My mom and father’s new wife could clash, trading snippy or ugly barbs.
In a haze of stored rage, my brothers and I could lose it and beat my father to a pulp while Sister Sledge belts out “We Are Family” in the background.
It shocks me that my brother even wants to go down this road after watching our parents give matrimony a go. More like acrimony. Is it a coincidence those two words rhyme?
Graham and I are groomsmen—one of six—and my nerves pop like kernels in hot oil as we finish dressing in our gray tuxedos. What I should do is smoke some reefer. A few hits off a joint would help me mellow out and muddle through this nonsense, but I want to be present for Townshend.
The joy emanates from him in droves. Massive grins. Bright eyes. Back slaps like he’s just so damn happy we’re all in this together for his Big Day.
It’s not that I don’t want this for him. I do. I just don’t understand it overall. Nothing in me is drawn to falling in love, marrying a woman, spitting out a few helpless, whiny kids, and growing to hate and resent each other.
I’m so fucking jaded. I really should take the edge off with a doob.
Remy will be here, and knowing him, he’ll have something mood-altering in his pocket.
I’ll knuckle through the ceremony, see how it all goes, then hit him up for something if I’m still this jittery or intent on slamming my old man’s head into the dance floor.
Solid plan.
Townshend interrupts my thoughts, corralling Graham and I together. He places a hand on our shoulders, and we follow suit, forming our own private huddle.
“You ready for this?” I ask him.
He grins. “I’ve never been more ready to make it legal with my beautiful bride. You’re next up,” he says, winking at me.
I scoff. “Not in this lifetime.”
Graham laughs, slapping Townshend on the shoulder. “We’re still enjoying the variety of pussy available.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, boys. Because once you find the one, you’re done.”
Another scoff erupts. That will never happen to me.