Winning the Right Brother

by Abigail Strom

  “Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe he thinks you’re cute.”

  Holly ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Not right now, I’m not. I think I should wait a few days before I make my move. If my looks are all I have going for me…”

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Will said, looking stern. “Look, they’re going to kick you out of my room before long, and, anyway I need to rest. I do have a concussion, you know.”

  “A mild concussion.”

  “Okay, fine. The next time I want a little sympathy I’ll break both my legs. The point is, you could sit out there in the waiting room all night, or you could go to Alex’s house and ask him to marry you, so we can wrap this thing up and move on to living happily ever after. I expect to see the two of you here at my bedside tomorrow morning, hand in hand. I’ve waited long enough, and so has Alex.”

  Holly raised one eyebrow. “Since when do you tell me what to do?”

  “Since now. This is it, Mom. You’ve taught me everything I know about guts and courage and going after what you want. It’s time to practice what you preach.”

  “All joking aside, Squirt, there’s a chance Alex will turn me down.”

  “I suppose there is. Are you going to let that stop you?”

  He was looking stern again, and Holly couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “No, I’m not,” she said, bending down to tuck the covers more closely around him and straightening up again. “Got any ideas on how I should propose?”

  When she pulled up in Alex’s driveway, the only light in his house came from his bedroom window. She slipped in through the front door as quietly as she could, turning on one small lamp and moving silently through the living room as she looked for the CD she wanted.

  Before she played it, she gathered all the candles she could find and lit them, scattering them around and lighting a pathway from the living room to the stairs. She looked terrible, her jeans and Wildcats sweatshirt stained and a little damp, her hair wild and her eyes still red and swollen, but she couldn’t help that. And, after all, Alex had seen her look even worse.

  She took a deep breath. Okay, she was ready. She walked over to the stereo and hit the play button.

  And then Marvin Gaye’s voice was filling the house.

  She stood in the middle of the living room and waited, and before long Alex was coming down the stairs, past all the candles she had lit, until he stood just a few feet away from her.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, barefoot and bare chested, and it was so good to see him again she felt tears pricking behind her eyes.

  She took a deep breath. “Will sent me here,” she said, and then shook her head. “No, I mean, I wanted to come. I wanted to tell you—to tell you—” She paused, biting her lip, while he just looked at her.

  Damn him, anyway. Why couldn’t he back her up against a wall again? Make her say it? What if she didn’t have the courage to say it on her own?

  She took another breath. “What I mean to say—what I want to say—”

  Alex folded his arms across his chest. “You’re terrible at this.”

  “Shut up. What I want to say—what I mean to say—okay, you’re right, I suck. Dammit, Alex, I—I love you. I want—that is—will you dance with me?” she asked, holding out her hand.

  Alex was still for a moment. “That depends,” he said finally, and Holly’s hand dropped to her side. Alex took a step closer, and then another, until he was right in front of her. For a long minute they stood like that, and then Alex took both her hands in his. “Will you marry me, Holly?”

  She took two quick steps backward. “What? No! I mean, I was supposed to ask you! I thought I’d ask you to dance first, you know, to sort of work up to it, but then you jumped the gun and—”

  Alex was grinning now. “Will you marry me, Holly?”

  She came close again, her eyes meeting his. “Yes,” she said, and joy flooded through her, unadulterated by any doubt or fear. She knew Alex could see all that joy, burning through her like sunlight, and then he was kissing her and that burned too, and Holly wondered how she’d ever been able to walk away from this. At least that was one mistake she’d never make again.

  “We have to tell Will,” Alex said, when they could finally pull away from one another.

  “Visiting hours are over. We can’t see him till tomorrow morning.”

  Alex thought about it. “Want to make out in the hospital waiting room?”

  For some reason that made Holly burst into tears. “Yes, I do,” she managed to say, throwing her arms around Alex. “I really, really do.”

  And they did. They drove back to the hospital and sat down in the lobby, and they held hands, and they kissed, and they talked quietly until morning. Then they walked hand in hand into Will’s hospital room, just like he’d wanted them to.

  Epilogue

  His wedding day.

  Alex thought this should be a quietly serious moment, a moment to contemplate the future in some sort of deep and profound manner, but that wasn’t an option when you had Will for a best man.

  “Okay, Coach, I went online to get all the advice-to-the-bridegroom I could find. Number one—when you’re standing at the altar, bend your knees slightly. Apparently if you hold them stiff it can cut off the circulation and make you pass out or something. Number two—”

  “Will, in the name of everything holy, please stop talking. Why do they make us wait back here, anyway? I can’t tell if they’re ready.”

  Will looked sympathetic. “Starting to get nervous, huh? That’s totally normal, by the way. One of my most important jobs is to keep you calm. Would you like me to tell you a joke? I know this really good—”

  Alex took Will by the lapels of his tuxedo. “I just need two things. Tell me if I look okay, and tell me if they’re ready for us out there.”

  Will stepped back and studied him appraisingly. Alex stood up straight and tried to look easy, confident and manly. In reality he felt a little sick, but he hoped that didn’t show.

  “Actually, you look a little sick. Do you want some Pepto Bismol? I brought some in my emergency best-man kit.”

  “You have an emergency best-man kit?” Alex asked, momentarily distracted.

  “You bet. It’s got—”

  “No, don’t tell me. Just sneak out front and see if they—”

  Before he could finish the sentence the little door opened and the minister popped his head in. “Showtime!” he said cheerfully, and Alex wondered if he had a few minutes to go to the bathroom and throw up.

  Will patted him on the back. “It’s okay, Coach,” he said. “We made it to the state championship and we’re going to make it through this. Right?”

  Alex managed to nod. He took a deep breath, and then he and Will went through the door to stand on the left side of the altar.

  The church was full of people but Alex didn’t see any of them very clearly. His eyes were fixed at the back of the church, where Holly would be appearing any minute. He remembered what Will had said and bent his knees slightly.

  The music began. It was something by Bach, played on the piano. It was probably very beautiful, but Alex wouldn’t have noticed if it had been the theme to Star Wars or the Oscar Mayer wiener jingle.

  He took a breath. Gina was coming down the aisle with the measured steps they’d practiced at the rehearsal yesterday. She was probably very beautiful, too, but she could have been hopping along in a pink gorilla suit and Alex wouldn’t have noticed that, either.

  There must have been some kind of musical cue, because all at once everyone in the church was rising to their feet. Alex felt his heart stop. He bent his knees a little more and took another deep breath.

  And there she was.

  As soon as he saw Holly all his fear melted away. Alex had lived thirty-five years, and in all that time no one had ever looked at him like this. There was so much love and trust and joy in Holly’s face that she seemed to gl
ow, as if she were lit from within.

  He hadn’t been allowed to see her dress until now. It was nothing like he’d expected, especially the full skirt, which was frilly and feminine and as impractical as a fairy tale…and so beautiful it made his throat ache. Through the mist of her veil he could see her smile, and the extra shimmer in her eyes that came from tears.

  Before he knew what was happening he was crying too. He started to lift his arm to wipe away the tears with his sleeve, but then Will was handing him a handkerchief. “Emergency kit,” he whispered.

  “Thanks,” Alex whispered back, and suddenly he was grinning at Will, and at Holly, and Holly was smiling at them both with all the love in her heart.

  Then his soul mate was standing before him, putting her hands in his, and Holly and Alex were promising out loud and before God what they’d promised in their hearts long ago. And when they sealed their promise with a kiss, they knew that happily-ever-after had just begun.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5520-7

  WINNING THE RIGHT BROTHER

  Copyright © 2010 by Abigail Strom

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