The Last

by Tawna Fenske

  Over at her dressing table, Cassie stands up and smooths down the front of her dress. “Enough primping,” she says. “If we keep fussing with our faces, they’re going to fall off.”

  She picks up her bouquet and holds it up for us to admire. “These are all native flowers and shrubs,” she says. “Bracken, maidenhair, several species of fern, some salmonberries and Oregon grape. All things that grow well in soils that are native to Oregon.”

  Missy snorts. “Leave it to the soil scientist to have a geek-tastic bouquet.”

  “But it’s amazing.” I stand and walk to her side to give her a careful hug designed to avoid wrinkling our dresses. “The whole wedding is amazing. The way you’ve made it yours.”

  “To hell with the wedding.” Cassie grins. “The flowers, the dresses—it’s all meaningless. I’m getting to marry the best guy in the world, so that’s all I care about.”

  God. That’s how I feel, too. Ian’s the best guy I know, and I’m going to marry him. I’m marrying the man I love, and isn’t that the definition of happily ever after?

  I have to tell him.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat, hoping Cassie hasn’t noticed any shift in my expression. This is her day, not mine, and I’m grateful the three sisters have gone back to fussing with Cassie’s veil.

  “Almost ready, ladies?” The girls’ mother pops her head into the dressing room, then steps through the door wearing a shimmery rose-gold mother-of-the-bride dress. She has Cassie’s nose and forehead, but Missy and Lisa’s impeccable styling, and she’s beaming with pride as she surveys her three daughters.

  Her eyes fill with tears when her gaze lands on Cassie. “Aren’t you a beautiful bride.”

  Cassie rolls her eyes, but I can see they’re shimmering, too. “Mom. You saw me five minutes ago.”

  “And I’m allowed to cry every time,” she says. “It’s not every day one of my daughters gets married.”

  Susan Michaels pulls all three girls into a group hug. It’s a beautiful moment, and I’m glad the photographer is there to capture it. Spotting me, Susan waves over Lisa’s shoulder. “You, too, Sarah,” she says. “You’re part of this love-fest.”

  I set my bouquet on the dressing table and join the huddle, so filled with love that I feel like I might explode. What is it about weddings that brings out everyone’s sentimental side?

  Susan is first to draw back, and she plucks a hankie from her little clutch and dabs at her eyes. “I’m proud of all of you girls for finding the love of your life,” she says. “I can only hope all four of you are even half as happy as Glen and I have been these past forty years.”

  My heart lodges in my throat, and I swallow hard to force it back down. All four of you. She means me, too, and for a moment I entertain the idea of having the same kind of marriage they all do. The kind I always assumed I’d have.

  As I take several shaky breaths to compose myself, Mrs. Michaels makes her way to the door. “If you’re ready, I’ll signal the musicians,” she says.

  Lisa fusses with Cassie’s veil one more time. “Are Simon and Junie already in place?”

  “They’re just waiting for the word from us.”

  I love how family has been incorporated into every aspect of this wedding. Simon and Cassie both wanted Junie by their side, but ultimately let her choose between being Cassie’s maid of honor or Simon’s best woman.

  “Best is better than honor,” Junie pointed out. “Everyone knows that.”

  So Junie is with Simon, and Cassie has the three of us for support. “I’m glad he has her by his side,” Cassie says, reading my thoughts. “It’s been just the two of them for so long. They’ve always had each other.”

  My heart clutches a little at that as I realize that no matter what kind of wedding Ian and I have, we’ll feel Shane’s absence. My father’s, too, though I never really knew him. When it comes time to walk myself down the aisle, I’ll be ready for it. I pick up my bouquet and take another breath.

  “All set, Sarah?” Lisa moves toward the doorway, then pauses and cocks her head. “You okay?” she mouths.

  I nod and join the sisters. “I’m so thrilled for you, Cassie,” I tell her. “You look so happy.”

  “So do you.”

  It’s true, and I know why. It’s Ian, and the fact that I’m so in love with him I could explode. I hug my friend, then step back as her father appears in the doorway, ready to walk her down the aisle.

  “Showtime, ladies,” Lisa says.

  Missy strides out first, then Lisa, then me. We march slowly out the doors of Suttle Lake Lodge, squinting as the glare of sun on the lake hits us full in the face. Notes of Pachelbel’s Canon bounce off the water as we drift across the deck and out onto the grassy lawn.

  At the last second, I glance back at Cassie. Her face radiates so much love and joy that my breath catches in my throat.

  I want that.

  I turn and make my way down the aisle.

  Simon is waiting under a handmade arch with Junie resplendent in champagne silk beside him. She’s wearing their late mother’s earrings and a smile that’s filled with love for her brother and new sister-in-law. Dax stands next to her, smiling at Lisa like she invented beer and blowjobs. Two guys Simon works with round out the rest of his group, and they’re all watching us make our way down the aisle.

  As I take my place on the opposite side of the arch, I watch Simon’s face as Cassie appears.

  There it is—pure, unaltered love. There’s no other way to describe it, and my breath catches again with a soft little hiccup. Mesmerized, I watch his face as she glides toward him.

  You’re beautiful, he mouths with tears of joy glittering behind his tortoiseshell glasses.

  Cassie smiles back and flashes him a thumbs-up. She’s wearing the same expression he is. Love—her face glows with it, her whole body radiates with rays like sun glinting off water. My throat tightens, and I take a few deeper breaths to keep myself from bawling.

  Ian.

  Where’s Ian?

  Filled with the need to share this moment with him, I scan the crowd. I spot him in the third row, and his face lights up as he waves.

  I love him.

  I love him so damn much.

  I have to tell him.

  “Dearly beloved,” the officiant begins. “Friends, loved ones, total strangers wandering in from a day of kayaking.”

  The audience laughs, and I force my attention to the ceremony. I don’t want to miss a moment of this. “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

  The officiant continues on, and I steal another glance at Ian. His gaze is fixed on me, and I could swear there’s some sort of force field connecting us. How else could I explain what I’m feeling right now? Like we’re connected to each other in a way I’ve never experienced before.

  “…romance is a wonderful thing,” the minister continues. “But love—true love—and the desire to love someone for the rest of your life—that’s extraordinary. And that is what we’re celebrating here today.”

  I want extraordinary.

  And as Ian and I lock gazes across the heads of the crowd, I’m positive he does, too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ian

  Sarah looks beautiful.

  So does the bride, obviously, but Sarah’s the one who leaves me feeling like someone filled my chest cavity with warm cocoa. It’s Sarah who has me sitting here in this uncomfortable folding chair positive I’m the luckiest jackass in the world.

  She’s going to marry me.

  I’m smiling like an idiot, and I’m sure everyone around me thinks I’m some super-creepy guy who’s really into weddings. They don’t know this is the first one I’ve attended since college. I’ve avoided them like the plague, uncomfortable around such heartbreakingly hopeful leaps of faith.

  But I’m here for Sarah, and damn if she doesn’t make this whole thing worth it.

  “At this time,” the of
ficiant says, “Simon and Cassie would like to honor the loved ones who cannot be here with us today to celebrate this moment. Simon’s parents, Melanie and Roger, are watching over this ceremony from Heaven, and I know they’re proud of the woman Simon has chosen to share his life with.” He clears his throat. “Cassie, Simon—are you ready?”

  My throat goes dry as the desert as the two of them nod and walk hand in hand to a basket of flowers sitting on a small metal table at the water’s edge. I’d assumed it was part of the decorations, but now I realize it’s something else.

  My heart starts to gallop, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure what’s happening here, but there’s a thrumming in my ears as the musicians shift to a somber-sounding version of a song that sounds oddly familiar. Where have I heard this before?

  “Lilies were Simon’s mother’s favorite flower,” the officiant continues. “They were the flowers in her wedding bouquet when she married Roger. And Noel Paul Stooky’s ‘There Is Love’ was their wedding song.”

  Oh, Jesus.

  That’s how I know it.

  This was my parents’ wedding song, the one my dad would play to woo her back every time they had a fight. It worked until it didn’t work anymore, just like their marriage.

  My throat feels tight as Cassie plucks a stem from the basket and whispers something to Simon. Resting one hand on his back, she tosses the flower out onto the water.

  I can’t breathe.

  God, the loss.

  The sadness, the pain—it’s too much.

  I tug at my tie, wishing I could escape. Shifting my eyes to Sarah, I see her attention is on the bride and groom. Her bouquet trembles, and I know without seeing her eyes that there are tears in them.

  Christ. How do people do this?

  How do they feel this sort of emotion? How do they willingly charge into relationships where they know loss is inevitable? It’s just—

  “Lovely,” says the officiant as Cassie and Simon return to the front of the aisle and join hands once again. “Shall we continue?”

  And the service goes on, but my heart doesn’t restart. It just sits there like a heavy, leaden ball in the center of my chest.

  Dead inside.

  That’s what I’ve been for so long, what I’ve needed to be to survive.

  But I can’t be that with Sarah.

  It’s not the song or the wedding or the sunlight on the water that makes my hollowed-out heart fill with hope. It’s Sarah—Sarah—who loosened my death grip on the self-control that’s held my heart in check for so long. Sarah who has me feeling the sort of joy and sadness and sweeping ache of emotions I haven’t felt since—since—

  Shane.

  I can’t do this again. My battered heart can’t handle it, and it isn’t fair to her. I have to stay dead inside to protect us both, and I can’t be that with Sarah.

  I was an idiot for thinking I could.

  When Sarah’s eyes find mine in the crowd, I summon everything I’ve got to offer her a smile that makes my teeth ache.

  She smiles back, face glowing with emotion.

  The instant she looks away, I close my eyes to swallow back the pain.

  Somehow, I make it through the ceremony.

  I make it through the reception, too, though God only knows what I ate or who I talked to or how I managed to keep the cheerful smile pasted on my face.

  Seeing Sarah helps, and each time I glance at her, a surge of emotion rushes through me.

  I hate it.

  I hate it and I love it and I’m so confused by all of it that I’m glad we’re not around each other all that much at the reception. She’s running around like mad tending to bridesmaid duties, getting her picture taken and assisting Junie with a wedding speech that brings everyone to tears. Cassie and Simon can’t stop touching, can’t stop looking at each other like they’re deliriously dumbfounded by how much in love they are.

  I’m happy for them. I’m happy for all of them. Even if this isn’t something I can have, even if I don’t believe love-based marriages are sustainable, maybe they’ll make it work. That’s not something I could do, but good for them if they can defy the odds.

  It’s after nine when Sarah and I finally make it back to our cabin. Most of the wedding guests are staying in the lodge, but members of the wedding party get their own little cottages on the lake shore. It’s beautiful here, with a light breeze ruffling the surface of the lake. A nighthawk swoops and dives between the trees, and I watch it through the window while Sarah disappears into the bathroom.

  I tug off my tie and slowly let down my guard. I can be myself now. I’ve always been able to do that with Sarah, but I need it now more than ever.

  “Here you go.” Sarah appears from out of nowhere and hands me a champagne flute brimming with bubbles. “I noticed you didn’t eat or drink much at the reception.”

  “Just tired,” I tell her, dropping my tie onto the dresser as I reach for the glass. “Lots of driving this week, plus today’s been crazy.”

  “And you’ve been getting ready for that final presentation at Wyeth.”

  “That, too.”

  Sarah studies my face, and I wonder if she knows that’s not the full story. That there’s something else bothering me, or that I’d prefer not to talk about it. It’s easier, keeping things bottled up. I know this from experience.

  “Want to sit out on the porch?” she suggests. “It’s a nice night. Still warm out.”

  “Sure. That sounds good.”

  She gives me a smile that’s almost shy. “I didn’t realize how much I missed that. The way we’d sit outside together by the campfire just talking. Out in your mom’s field the other night—I mean before we, um—”

  “Weren’t talking?”

  “Right.” A pretty blush steals across her cheeks, and my chest aches again. “Anyway, I’ve been enjoying it.”

  She turns away before I can say anything, trailing out the front door with a champagne flute in one hand and her dress fluttering behind her.

  I tug open the top two buttons on my shirt as I follow her out the door, gripping my champagne flute so hard the stem squeaks between my fingers. This is why I don’t do weddings. I don’t like feeling this…undone.

  Sarah settles on the porch swing that’s just outside our front door. From here we have a clear view of the lake and a million tiny stars sparkling on the lake’s glassy surface. Crickets chirp a noisy symphony, and somewhere in the distance an owl gives a perfunctory hoot.

  Kicking off her shoes, she nudges the swing into motion with her pink-polished toes. Then she tucks her feet up under her and reaches up to tug the pins out of her hair. It falls free around her shoulders, and I feel my throat tightening again.

  Just sit down beside her like a normal fucking person.

  Nothing about me feels normal right now, but I feel calmer the instant my hand touches her knee.

  She takes a sip from her champagne flute. “That was quite the ceremony, wasn’t it?”

  “It was…something.” Lame, but I try to make up for it with a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

  Sarah bites her lip. Her hair rustles around her shoulders, glinting with starlight and the glow from the distant tiki torches back at the reception site. I can see shadows moving over there, tidying up after the big party. How long until the revelry dies down? Not the reception, but the whirlwind of crazy new love. It’s bound to happen for the bride and groom eventually. For everyone. It’s just a matter of time until dull heartache sets in, or maybe its bitter cousin, resentment.

  I look at Sarah and hope she can’t read my awful thoughts. I’m such a fucking curmudgeon. She deserves better.

  Sarah’s gaze is fixed out over the lake, which is nice. Peaceful. My heart rate starts to slow as we sit in silence sipping our champagne as the porch swing drifts slowly back and forth. I toe the ground every few seconds, trying to keep us moving. To keep things from stalling out.

  When Sarah speaks, her voice is low and almost timid. “T
here’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about for a while now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She clears her throat. “Since our trip last weekend, actually.”

  I rub circles with my palm on her thigh, soothing her like I would a nervous pet. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  “About us?” She blinks like I’m nuts. “No. Absolutely not. Actually, uh—” She bites her lip and shifts her gaze out over the water. I watch her chest rise and fall as she takes a few steadying breaths.

  When her gaze returns to mine, there’s a mix of joy and terror in her eyes that makes my whole body seize up. It’s like my blood has turned to concrete in my veins.

  “Actually,” she says again, “it’s sort of the opposite.”

  There’s a faint buzzing in my ears. It’s the same sound I heard when I realized my parents’ wedding song was the same one Cassie and Simon used to commemorate his dead parents. A sadness so deep and aching that it burns me to the core.

  That’s how I feel now peering into Sarah’s eyes. She opens her mouth to speak again and before she gets a word out, I know.

  I know what she’s going to say.

  “Ian,” she says slowly. “I think I’ve fal—”

  “No.”

  She blinks. “What?”

  I can’t let her say it. I can’t let this be real. I can’t risk losing this carefully constructed plan, this safe place we’ve made.

  She bites her lip again and shakes her head like there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. “I need to just say this or I’m going to chicken out.” Her chest rises as she takes a shaky breath. “Ian, I’m in love with you.”

  There’s a roaring in my ears, a scream that wells up in the center of my chest. Absolute silence surrounds us, but there’s nothing but madness in my head. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t come up with anything to say that will make this right.

  So, I say the absolute wrong thing instead.

  “No, Sarah. I can’t.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sarah

  That wasn’t the response I expected.

  I sit there for a few beats, staring dumbfounded at the man I love.