Page 90 of Dreams
“I can drive myself.” He didn’t want to get her hackles raised, so he didn’t say he actually preferred to do things for himself. He’d been that way since he moved away at sixteen. There was no independence in his house, and he hated it.
“So,” Ethan began slowly. “Michaela invited me today.”
“Really?” Josh didn’t bother to hide his surprise.
Their mother looked like she wanted to say something, but restrained herself. She was going to the wedding, and she’d been pretty terrible to Michaela in the past. But, Ethan was worse.
“Are you going?” Josh asked the question that suddenly stifled the room.
Ethan looked down at his food before pushing his plate back and standing up. He set his napkin on the table. “I didn’t think it’s such a good idea,” he answered, avoiding eye contact with both of them. “I have to go to a meeting.”
Josh could tell by his demeanor exactly what kind of meeting his brother was headed to. The anonymous kind. He’d been so sucked into his own mess, he hadn’t even thought about how hard this day would be on Ethan. It wasn’t that he was still in love with Michaela, but it must have brought the past back into the present.
Josh shook his head, but made no move to follow him. He wasn’t what his brother needed.
His mother made an excuse to leave soon after, and Josh finished his breakfast in silence. He smiled into his forkful of eggs. It was this scene that felt very familiar. This scene that felt like home. Being alone in a big house when you were never really alone. The maids started clearing the table, and he left as well.
* * *
Groomsmen duties were easy. He didn’t have to help Jason get dressed. Didn’t have to go to any makeup or hair appointments. They were expected for a lot fewer pictures than the bridesmaids. There was no stress.
Basically, the four men just hung out all day. It felt like old times in New York. Josh never used to drink because of his game, but that wasn’t stopping him anymore, so he was able to have a beer with the guys. They went to the beach and toasted Jason’s wedding.
About an hour before the ceremony, they’d donned their suits, matching black with light blue ties and a single yellow flower pinned to their jackets.
The ceremony itself was everything Josh had expected. Hundreds of people crowded into a large, old church downtown. The late afternoon sun streamed through stained glass windows, casting various colors about the room.
It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable standing in front of so many people as Josh had expected. Probably because he watched Michaela with the pride of a brother, a best friend. Her dress was simple, with a high neckline and an open back. The lacy train flowed out behind her as she walked. Her red hair hung down her back in ringlets.
He had a small pang of regret as he watched her look into Jason’s eyes with such love and trust. It was what he’d envisioned with Taylor since the first time he kissed her.
The reception was at the country club in their grand ballroom. A balcony ran around the entire room, looking down onto the tables and dance floor. It was all very nice, but he couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t Michaela. She’d have been happy with forty people and a barbecue on the beach, not an event that would light up the society pages. She’d left the plans up to her mother, though. She’d told him once last summer that all she wanted was to be married to Jason. She didn’t care how.
Those words stuck in his mind as he scrolled through his phone. Was it worth it being angry with Taylor? He hadn’t texted her in a couple of days, deciding it was easier to just let go. That’s what she obviously wanted.
He didn’t do easy.
Finding her name, he sent her a single line.
I miss you, Tay.
Then he put his phone away and decided to go down into the party.
Michaela had wanted a summer wedding, but her mother nixed that idea. Winter was classic, she’d told her. So winter colors made up most of the decorations. Blues and greens appeared in the flowers, centerpieces, even in some of the lighting. Josh smiled as he spotted yellow woven into some of the pieces. Michaela had at least won on something.
He enjoyed himself all through dinner and the toasts. The dancing started soon after and he was left alone at his table, not in the mood.
Checking his phone, he found no responses, so he put it on the table. Michaela showed up a little while later and tugged on his arm.
“Are you allowed to dance with me, or are you going to like keel over or something?” she asked with that feisty glint in her eye that he knew so well.
“You are the only person I know who makes fun of heart conditions.” He laughed as she led him to the dance floor.
She shrugged. “It’s my wedding. I can do what I want.”
“Then how can I say no to a dance?”
“You can’t.”
