by Gregory Ashe
“Please don’t be mad,” Somers said in a very small voice.
Hazard blinked again. Glennworth and Grace Elaine Somerset stood at the end of the nave on the opposite side of the aisle. Wesley stood there too, in a simple blue suit. He looked much better than he had when Hazard had seen him after being released from the county jail, but the lines of grief still marked his face even when he smiled at them.
“I kept trying to tell you I didn’t want a big wedding, and I knew you didn’t want a big wedding, and then the Keeper happened and you almost died and I was going crazy thinking about what I’d do if I lost you, and I realized next year was too far off. And today is the day you came back into my life two years ago, and I just thought it was right. It felt right.” Somers bit his lips and then blurted, “Well, say something.”
Hazard turned until he and Somers were face to face. He studied John-Henry Somerset for a moment and then he reached back and brushed down the stray clumps of hair.
“You want to kill me,” Somers said.
Hazard looked at his fiancé, who had changed into a Baby Shark t-shirt, who was wearing jeans and boat shoes, who wasn’t the boy Hazard had been simultaneously attracted to and terrified of. He was a different person. A better person. He was so very good.
“It’s ok,” Somers said thickly. “We can just head home. I told them you might not—”
“It’s perfect.”
Somers knuckled at his eyes for a moment. His voice was still thick when he said, “Yeah?”
“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” Hazard bent and kissed him. “That’s the last one of those you’re going to get, though, unless we make some changes.”
Somers raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were still full, and he kept having to wipe them clear.
“I plan on only kissing my husband in the future,” Hazard said with a shrug.
“Well,” Somers said, the corner of his mouth trembling. “Let’s go make some changes.”
“No music?” Hazard asked as they walked down the aisle.
“I could ask them if they have Death Cab for Cutie.”
“Fine,” Hazard said. “I will throw this shirt away when we get home.”
“No,” Somers pled, dragging out the vowel. “I like imagining skinny emo Emery Hazard.”
“Straight into the trash.”
“Please don’t.”
“You’d probably pull it out again,” Hazard said, more to himself. “I should probably burn it, just to be safe.”
And then they had reached Wesley, who was still smiling at them.
“John-Henry, it’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Wesley.”
“Emery, hi.”
“Hello.”
“I understand no one is being given away.”
Somers looked like he was about to answer, but Hazard decided to field this one. “Of course not. Giving away the bride reinforces patriarchy, and, of course, neither of us is a bride, and we’re also both grown-ass adults who are perfectly capable of making our own decisions based on love, mutual respect, and flowcharts. I don’t need anyone to give me away like a piece of chattel, as part of a pact to strengthen a family alliance, or—” He had to pause to take a breath here; his brain had slipped a gear, and he was having a hard time stopping.
Somers rested a hand lightly on his back, and Hazard managed to swallow the rest.
“That was very sweet, bunny,” Hazard’s mother said.
Blood rushed into Hazard’s face, and he very deliberately did not meet Somers’s eyes.
“Lacking any chattel,” Wesley said, “we can move on to the good stuff. We’re here today to join these two men in holy matrimony.”
Hazard narrowed his eyes at the word holy.
“Uh,” Wesley said, working a finger along his collar, “marriage always takes place as part of a community. We’re grateful for the support and love of the people who are here today, and we’d like to ask if anyone has a legitimate reason why these two men should not be wed, that they speak now or forever hold their peace.”
When no one spoke, some of the tension in Hazard’s shoulders eased.
“John-Henry, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer I do.”
“I do,” Somers said, glancing up at Hazard, his eyes full of tears again.
“Emery, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer I do.”
“Yes,” Hazard said.
His mother and, of all people, Glenn Somerset chuckled.
“Fuck, I mean, I do,” Hazard said.
Somers leaned into him, his face wet and hot through the thin t-shirt, and then he pulled away grinning.
“I understand that we will now be exchanging vows,” Wesley said, wearing a huge grin.
“I didn’t know we were writing our own vows,” Hazard whispered to Somers.
“You shouldn’t lie to your husband,” Somers whispered back. “Sometimes you forget to lock your phone and leave the notes app open. You’ve got eighteen drafts. Pick one.”
Hazard’s jaw dropped.
“I’ll go first,” Somers said. “Emery, Ree, I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known. I promise to watch documentaries with you, listen to NPR with you, read statistical analyses of zip codes with you, and just about anything else you want me to do with you, because I want to do everything together. I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, which I know includes picking up my socks and learning how to properly make brisket and, as of today, finishing the patio. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”
“You already read these,” Hazard whispered, holding his phone.
“I didn’t read them, dummy, I just saw the titles. I’m ready for a great, big surprise.”
“The nature of surprise is that you can’t—”
Somers was making a strangled noise.
“Fine,” Hazard snapped, which was difficult in a whisper. “This is on your head.”
He scrolled through the phone screen. Draft 17 was punchy and had a great joke about Alexeev’s “Income Distribution in the USSR in the 1980s,” but Draft 9 was more tender and romantic, including the part Hazard was proudest of, the twenty-two line comparison between his love for Somers and nuclear fuel rods, the important balance of zirconium and uranium oxide. But no matter how he tried to focus, the words slid away from him. Sweat prickled under his arms; he couldn’t get enough air.
Then he pocketed the phone and looked at Somers.
“John, I’ve always tried to be a good person. I never thought I could be a great one until you loved me. Everything important in my life is tied to you: my work, my sense of family, my place in our community. I promise that I’ll learn how to be a good husband to you. I promise I’ll try every day to be better. I promise I’ll take care of you and Evie. I promise I’ll love you more and more as we move forward together, and I’ll find ways to show you that love, because you deserve to know that you’re the best, most incredible thing that has ever happened to me. I promise to show you how much you mean to me for the rest of our lives together.”
Wesley had to brush under his eyes before saying, “The couple would now like to exchange wedding rings.”
“Before you ask,” Somers said, “yes, I brought them.”
He passed one ring to Hazard and held the other. Taking Hazard’s hand, he slid the band into place—they had picked designs that would complement the engagement rings and could be worn comfortably together. Hazard’s heart was in his throat as he took Somers’s hand, feeling the warmth, the fine bones, the texture of his skin, and slid the band onto Somers’s finger.
“By
the power vested in me by the state of Missouri,” Wesley said, “I pronounce you married. You may now kiss.”
For a moment, Hazard couldn’t move. Then Somers’s hand was at the small of his back again, drawing him forward, and everything in Hazard seemed to turn liquid and flow: his hand cupping the back of Somers’s head, his other hand on Somers’s waist, the way they met, the way they kissed.
“I love you,” Hazard whispered when they broke.
“Good,” Somers said. “Because you’re stuck with me.” Then he smiled and said, “Oh, and in case I haven’t mentioned it, I love you too.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
OCTOBER 24
THURSDAY
6:57 PM
SOMERS DROVE THE MUSTANG toward the Astoria, the grand old hotel near the heart of Wahredua. The sun was almost finished setting; autumn leaves skittered across the road. The city was settling into the soft glow of twilight.
“It was a perfect wedding,” Hazard said, shifting on the seat and plucking at his blazer. “Why did you have to ruin it?”
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Why did you have to—”
“No, the other part.”
“It was perfect,” Hazard bit out. “I will happily tell you that for the rest of our lives if you will just turn this car around and drive us, I don’t know, into a bridge abutment or something.”
“That is a very tempting offer,” Somers said, “but I would like to see some of our friends, now that you’ve made an honest man of me, before I die.”
“I will buy you season tickets to the Tigers.”
Somers hemmed.
“I will go to every game with you.”
“I don’t know.”
Yanking on the seatbelt, Hazard said, “I will tailgate with you. I will stand there with all those assholes who think getting blasted on cheap beer and grilling hot dogs is the best way to spend a Saturday, and I will smile, and I will make sure you have a fantastic time.”
“This is very tempting.”
“John!”
Somers glanced at him. “I think I deserve this. I managed to trick the great Emery Hazard.”
“You didn’t trick me.”
“You had no idea we were going to get married today.”
“You lied to me.”
“Call it what you want—”
“I want to call it lying.”
“—but I put one over on you, so I get to have a reception.”
“John, I don’t think you’re considering—”
“Be a big boy. You’ll be fine.”
The reception had already been going for half an hour when they arrived. The events coordinator for the hotel, Maria, was waiting for them, and she led them along the Astoria’s marble hallways. They took the elevator up to the ballroom, and when they got to the double doors, Maria waved for them to hold position and then darted inside. A moment later, the music stopped, and her voice came over the speakers.
“Is there food in there?” Hazard muttered.
“Lots of food. Good food.”
“Is this plated? Or buffet?”
“What? Buffet. I didn’t think you wanted a sit-down meal.”
“I wanted everyone to subtract the cost of a plated meal from their gift so we wouldn’t have to do this.”
“Dear God,” Somers said.
“How much is this costing us?”
Somers shushed him as Maria said, “Here they are, everyone! Let’s give the newlyweds a great big hand!”
Somers grabbed Hazard’s hand and headed into the ballroom.
After that, Somers was so busy that he barely noticed how quickly the night was passing. For a while, he and Hazard stood in a reception line, greeting people, thanking them for coming, and making small talk. Well, Somers made small talk. Hazard grunted and, if Somers elbowed him hard enough, made a passingly polite observation about the person’s occupation or about the intricacies of a state legislature bill still in committee that had to do with naming baby farm animals. Later, when Hazard whispered something in Somers’s ear about calling in a bomb threat, Somers sent him over to the buffet, where Hazard scooped up a plateful of toasted ravioli and immediately got cornered by Charlene McDowell, who was seventy-six and whose last husband had been thirty-three. She looked like a purple, velour lioness and kept stroking her hair while she leaned closer and closer to Hazard.
When Noah and Rebeca arrived with Evie and their own gaggle of kids, Hazard took a second look at Noah and groaned so loudly that Somers had to elbow him again.
“He insisted,” Rebeca said, rolling her eyes. “He thinks he’s funny.”
“It’s a blue tux,” Noah said, plucking at the jacket and then gesturing to the spill of lace on his white shirt. “It’s hilarious.”
“It’s not your junior prom,” Hazard said.
“John-Henry,” Noah said, “tell him it’s funny.”
“It’s hilarious,” Somers said with a smile.
“He’s just humoring you,” Hazard said.
Somers elbowed him even harder that time.
Evie was wearing a pink dress that Somers had picked out, and she dominated the dance floor, demonstrating to anyone who would pay attention how well she could twirl in her skirt. Rebeca stuck close to her, which was good because most of the twirls ended in falls. Hazard leaned in and spoke quietly into Somers’s ear.
“No Cora?”
“No Nico?”
“Don’t do that.”
“I invited her,” Somers said. “I invited Nico too. I guess they couldn’t be bothered.”
“John.”
“Ok, that was bad. I know this would be hard. I know she’s totally within her rights not to come. But I couldn’t not invite her either, and she’s been so supportive . . .”
“It would be hard for anyone, John. Cut her some slack.”
Somers nodded. Hazard just squeezed his hand, and that helped.
When Dulac and Darnell worked their way through the line, Dulac saluted Somers so many times that Somers gave Hazard a nudge and said, “Make him go away for a while.”
“Gladly,” Hazard growled.
“Dude,” Dulac protested, gesturing to his injured arm. “Bro. Dude. Bro.” Then he seemed to think and added, “Dude.”
“Fine,” Somers said. “He can stay.”
“We’re not done moving yet, by the way,” Dulac said. “So you guys can be there in the morning after your gross old-man sex to help us finish.”
“No,” Hazard said.
“It’s the least you can do after thinking I was a fucking murderer, bro.” Then Dulac grinned. “How badass is that? I was your fucking number-one suspect.”
“You were a possible suspect,” Hazard said.
“You thought I was a stone-cold killer.”
“I mistakenly believed that in spite of all your past incompetency, you might have successfully committed a series of brutal murders.”
“Bro,” Dulac said, his eyes welling, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Congratulations,” Darnell said; he still had dark circles under his eyes, and he moved slowly as he nudged Dulac along.
“Treat my boy right, Emery,” Dulac said, throwing his good arm around Somers. “Let him get that ass as often as he wants.”
Hazard opened his mouth, frowned, and leaned forward. “Jesus Christ. Are you high?”
“Bro, I got stabbed. I’m just staying ahead of the pain.” To Somers he said, “John-Henry, now that you guys are married, I seriously need you to think about a foursome.”
“Ok,” Darnell said. “We’re done. We’re very happy for you guys.”
“I just love you so much,” Dulac said, drawing Somers into a hug. “I’m so fucking stoked for you. And Emery, I love you too. I just want you to know I love you like my fucking brother.”
“No,” Hazard said when Dulac moved in to hug him next, but it
didn’t work.
“Congratulations again,” Darnell said. “And I’m going to apologize in advance for the gift.”
“It’s going to be a perfect fit for Emery,” Dulac said. “And really easy on his jaw.”
Dulac got in one last salute as Darnell dragged him away.
Wesley didn’t come, which was no surprise. Yarmark did, however, and that was a surprise. The skinny man looked uncomfortable in a polo and sports coat; he kept yanking at the polo’s collar, glancing around like he’d stumbled into the wrong room. When he reached them, he flushed and said, “I know I wasn’t invited.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here,” Hazard said.
“You’re invited now,” Somers said, squeezing Hazard’s wrist. “I should have invited you, especially after you saved Gray’s life. Sorry I dropped the ball on that.”
Yarmark just flushed a deeper red and stammered, “I just wanted to say congratulations.”
Somers thanked him, and Hazard stared at him, and Yarmark fled.
“What was that?” Hazard said. “Trying to butter up the new chief?”
“I think he’s still ashamed of how he acted at the beginning.”
Hazard grunted.
“He’s actually turning out pretty good,” Somers said. “I had to fire the rest of those asshats, but Yarmark’s on track to beat Miranda Carmichael’s record for speeding tickets in one month. I might have created a monster.”
“We’ll see,” Hazard said.
It was a night of people, talking, laughter, and good food. It was perfect. Somers felt electric. When Hazard joined him again, one arm loose and heavy over Somers’s shoulders, Somers felt ten times better than electric.
“You should eat,” Hazard said when the flow of people broke for a moment.
“I don’t need to eat,” Somers said. He couldn’t stop grinning.
Hazard kissed his cheek. “You really like this, huh?”
“I really do.”
Hazard whispered in his ear, “I still think a bridge abutment would have been better.”