by Liz Crowe
“What the hell dude? Get dressed. What’s your deal?”
Kieran plucked the bottle out of Dom’s fist and shoved him toward the bathroom. “Where’s your suit?” He pawed through the closet full of jeans and brewery shirts. “Get in the shower,” he hollered. The sound of water hitting tiles gave him some comfort.
Antony and Aiden would be there, too, but he’d gotten close to Dom since moving home, and the fact was he needed Dominic with him today. A lot of water had flowed under their mutual bridge in the past few weeks, and he’d been surprised and happy to admit he enjoyed the man’s company now.
“You watching out for him,” his mother had said a few days before. “It gives me peace of mind.”
He found a suit and a couple of dress shirts covered in plastic. Dom stumbled into the bedroom, dripping wet.
“Where’s your towel?”
“I like to air dry,” his brother muttered under his breath, touching the suit lying on the bed and running his fingers down the tie. He dropped down then fell flat with his arm over his face, water beaded on his naked skin.
“Well, get dry, get dressed, get some water in you, and let’s get this over with.”
Dom groaned and flipped him off.
“I don’t know what your issue is. I’m the one whose ex-girlfriend’s marrying some lawyer tool.”
“He’s not a tool,” Dom said from under his arm.
Kieran blinked, confused. “Whatever. I’m sure he’s a swell dude. Him and his giant…bank account. Come on.” He flung the shirt at Dom’s naked body and stomped into the kitchen. “You forget how to wash dishes?” Loading the dishwasher seemed like the right thing to do, so he slammed around for a while, marveling at the mess.
Dominic had never been a neat freak but the level of squalor in his small space above the old brewery shocked him. Frowning, Kieran pulled open the thin cabinet where Dom kept his various vitamins and pills stashed and spotted two full prescription bottles. “Dom, why aren’t you taking your—”
“None of your motherfuckin’ business. Let’s go.” Dom emerged from behind him, dressed, his wet hair tied with a piece of leather. His face seemed thin. The suit hung on him. He flinched away when Kieran tried to straighten his tie. “Get off me.” After pulling a Gatorade from the fridge, he put his hands on the counter, head hanging low.
“What’s up with you?”
“Mind your own business, Ginger.” Dom whirled on him, fists at the ready. Kieran waited for the first blow, determined to take it and get out of here with Dom in tow. “You’re so...insufferably...perfect.”
“Perfect?” He laughed, but it hurt his chest. “Now I know you’re off your meds. You’ve gotten delusional.” Deciding not to pursue it since they were already late, he let Dom climb down off his anger ledge on his own. Years of experience with that stood him in good stead.
He opened the door and followed Dominic down the rickety metal stairs to the parking lot. Dom stopped before he got into the car, seeming to gather his wits about him. Kieran climbed in and turned the key.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you need to keep taking your medicine.”
Dom grunted and slumped down in the seat.
“I know you get like this when you decide to self un-medicate.”
“You don’t know anything. So shut up. And don’t go talking about me to Mama and Daddy either. You all don’t get to decide how I’m gonna live, got it?” Dominic’s harsh words were tempered by his voice, which sounded soft, aloof even. Kieran frowned, but the light changed so he concentrated on the road awhile, resisting the urge to ask about Jackie, or the yoga teacher, or Diana Brantley or any number of women Dominic had been attached to in the distant and near past.
“I got the coaching job,” Kieran said by way of conversation.
“Super,” Dom replied in that same flat voice. “Congrats, Coach.”
“Yeah, something like that. Doesn’t mean I can stop bouncing though. It’s only eight grand a year.” He smiled in spite of himself. He couldn’t wait to be around the school, in the environment that had made him so happy last year, this time on the basketball court, his home away from home. Glancing over at his brother, Kieran was shocked to see him blinking fast, as if trying to keep from crying. Focusing quickly on the road, he attempted to suppress the extreme anxiety roiling around in his chest.
Dominic hadn’t been this bad in years, not since that god-awful month right after he’d graduated high school when he’d gone to a party then disappeared. Their mother had nearly lost her mind over it, and he’d never seen his father so furious when they finally did find him. He’d been hiding away in an old Airstream trailer behind one of his former teachers’ houses. The woman had let him stay there, keeping him in beer and pills and sex until she’d found him passed out from an overdose and had to call an ambulance, which necessitated an awkward call to his parents.
Once he got past this day, Kieran vowed to launch into a revive Dominic campaign. Kieran thought he grasped the depth of Dom’s problems and sometimes wondered if they should stop medicating him and let him live the way he wanted to live. But regardless, he was determined to help the man in any way he could.
“Stop starin’ at me.” Dom kept his face turned toward the passenger-side window.
Kieran drove the last few miles to the picturesque church he had attended since his birth. The parking lot and the field across from it overflowed with cars. A tent had been set up for a small reception after the ceremony before the full-on party began at some country club in Lexington he had no intention of attending. But he’d been invited to this ceremony and his mother had insisted that he go, out of support for his friend. Throat-choking panic at the thought of actually seeing Cara walk down the aisle toward another man gripped him.
He parked in the back forty and they sat in silence, not moving. Finally Dom lurched out of the car. “Come on,” he called out. “Grow a pair. She’s not yours anymore. Let’s go.”
Dom made his way through the parked cars toward the church. The closer he got, the better he walked as if making a conscious effort to appear sober. Kieran took a long breath, slammed the car door, and followed him.
The sanctuary, which had no modern air conditioning, felt like the inner sanctum of hell on this early fall day. All the windows had been thrown open to catch any breeze available. Even the flowers and ribbons and all the froufrou decorating the place seemed wilted in the withering heat. He stopped, seized with anxiety when he spotted the lawyer tool walk in from a side door and take his position by the minister.
Dom shoved him into a rear pew, pretty much the only one left at this point. “Get over it,” he muttered under his breath. Kieran nodded and pasted on something he hoped could pass as a happy face.
They’d arrived in time to see Cara’s bridesmaids process past in their varying shades of summery dresses and holding sunflowers. Leave it to Cara to not make her friends buy new dresses, he thought, wincing when the crowd rose at the first strains of the wedding march.
Both doors opened, revealing her in a rich, creamy dress, formfitting, highlighting her petite lushness and making his throat go dry. Her rich auburn hair flowed around her shoulders. Her gaze was bright and fixed forward on her future husband. As it should be. The gathered crowd sighed with delight when she began walking forward.
A ringing hit his ears when she met his gaze, as if knowing he’d be there, right in the spot he’d chosen. He tried to smile, be a good and supportive friend, to recall how angry he’d been at her when she’d dumped him for no good reason all those years ago.
This could be him, right now. Marrying that bitch Melinda. He took a breath and opened eyes he hadn’t remembered closing as Cara made her way toward her future.
Everyone sat. Kieran grabbed his knees. There had to be a moment somewhere in all the talking where the preacher asked if anyone protested, or could give a reason why the couple shouldn’t marry. He could jump up, make a scene like some lame ass in a crappy
romantic movie. Determined not to listen to any of it, lest he do that very thing, he kept staring at the floor between his feet.
Dom elbowed him and jerked his chin toward the aisle, so he glanced over at his mother. “You okay?” she mouthed. He nodded and resumed his study of the hardwood. His senses went into overdrive as anxiety engulfed him. Breathing sounds from spectators filled his ears. Flowers, perfume, soap, even a whiff of coffee brewing somewhere made him want to gag.
Dom stretched his legs out under the pew in front of them and let out a huge sigh. Kieran experienced a jolt of guilt for making Dom endure this with him. The man must be in a dark place right now. His brother must have been going downhill for a few months, but Kieran had been too caught up in his own mire of BS to pay attention. He should be helping Dom, not vice versa. Focusing on his new coaching job, he counted down from a hundred, hoping the whole thing would be over by the time he made it to one.
At some point, Antony slid in on his other side. Aiden got in next to Dom. All the brothers sat and watched as the love of Kieran’s life turned to face her future husband. He held his breath, more grateful for his family than he’d ever been in his entire life.
He would move on, find someone new. Hell, he’d even pondered asking Hope, the high school principal out on a date. He’d probably get in trouble for trying to date his boss of course, but....
“Stop!” a hoarse voice called out to his left, confusing him. Terrified that the sound had come from him, he glanced over at Antony. But his brother’s mouth hung open as he gaped past him. Kieran followed his gaze, feeling and hearing every pop and creak of his neck ligaments.
Dom had gotten to his feet. He gripped the pew so hard his knuckles were white. Aiden got up and put an arm around his shoulders.
They all knew that Dom’s un-medicated volatility sometimes expressed itself with public outbursts. But why now? He glanced at the couple still standing at the altar. His brain made a snap connection, recalling Cara’s reaction to his strip show that night in the office. She’d been trying to tell him something, to say something about Kent. But she’d stopped.
Aiden kept urging Dom to take a seat. But he remained on his feet, face coated in a sheen of sweat.
“He’s not taking his medication,” Kieran said under his breath. “He could be having another break, a bad one, I think.”
Antony nodded at Aiden. “Get him out of here,” he said under his breath.
Aiden tried to tug Dom out of the pew. Kieran observed as if from a million miles away as Dom shivered so much his teeth chattered, recalling the detox effects when Dom had last stopped taking his meds.
But somehow he knew something else had to be going on. Kieran rose in slow motion, never taking his gaze off Dominic’s agonized face. “Stop,” the man called out again, louder this time, still focused forward.
Kieran stood by his brother and faced front, his gaze pinned on Cara’s. She blinked fast, looking from Kent, to Dom, and then to Kieran. His heart pounded so fast it scared him. Kent frowned, keeping Cara’s hands in his. Kent’s mother rose, her face draining of color when she caught sight of Dominic.
Kent sat down hard, legs sprawled out in front of him. Kieran gripped Dom’s arm to keep him from bolting out into the aisle.
Cara crouched down next to Kent. “It’s okay, honey.” Her words echoed, ricocheting around the completely silent chapel like rogue bullets.
At that moment Dom broke free, stumbled past Aiden, and ran out the back door. Kieran hesitated, while Cara and Kent sat with their heads close together at the altar then followed him, hitting the open door in time to see his car peel out of the field and onto the road with a screech of tires. He jingled the keys in his pocket.
Asshole always was a hotwiring savant.
The car fishtailed when Dom hit the curve then disappeared. Kieran took a deep breath, walked to the open door, and gazed down the aisle. Kent still sat. Cara had her arm around him, her lips near his ear. The murmuring amongst the wedding guests had reached a fever pitch.
Lindsay appeared, and looped her arm through Kieran’s elbow. “He gonna be all right?” She shaded her eyes, facing down the road where Dom had taken off like a bat out of hell.
“Hope so,” he said, his pulse racing. “But we need to have a long talk about him pretty soon.”
“Damnation, ya’ll are the most drama-filled bunch of yahoos.” Anton Love joined his wife and put an arm around her. “I thought that little redheaded gal was your girlfriend, Francis.” Lindsay’s expression begged Kieran not to explain. He shook his head and went inside the sanctuary.
Kent rose slowly, cleared his throat, and faced the crowd.
“I’m afraid that I have to apologize to everyone,” he stated, using his best courtroom voice. “We, um, need to ask for your patience, and....”
The expression on Cara’s face made Kieran want to punch a hole in something, like maybe her fiancé’s face. She did love Kent. Why wouldn’t she? They were going tie this particular knot, right now, despite the embarrassing scene Dominic had made. The man in the tuxedo nodded at her and Cara turned to face the gathered guests. Kieran clenched his jaw, willing her to say, “this is a mistake and I love that redheaded dude down there, would you mind, dearest Kent, moving aside so Kieran, the underemployed, sometime stripper can marry me?”
Antony moved closer on his left, Aiden on his right, bracketing him, holding him up.
“I’m afraid that Kent and I aren’t being honest with each other, or with you,” Cara said with a clear voice and dry eyes. The group gave a collective gasp. “I know most of y’all know that Kieran and I...we were together for a lot of years and....” She stopped and bit her lip.
Kent put his arm around her and looked at the gathered gawkers. “The wedding is off. For a lot of reasons, most of which aren’t anyone’s business but ours.” He fixed his gaze on his parents who were stock-still and speechless in the face of their son’s sudden confession. “Please feel free to have some refreshments outside before you go. All your gifts will be returned and your money refunded.” He looked right at Kieran. “I understand how you feel and don’t blame you. She is an amazing woman.” Then he took Cara’s hands and said, “I’m sorry,” loud enough for everyone to hear him. He was visibly shaking when he put her fingers to his lips.
“Go,” she said, clearly and without a trace of sadness. “Go to him.”
Kieran heard a low voice behind him. “Would somebody please explain to me what in the hell is—”
“Anton, mind your language in the house of the Lord,” Lindsay cut him off.
“You aren’t going to tell me this about my son, Lindsay. Not here. Not anywhere.” Antony grabbed their father’s shoulder. “Not here, no,” the oldest brother said.
They all moved when Kent headed toward them on his way to the open doors.
Kieran reached for his father’s other arm to restrain him. But it was no easy feat.
“You...he....” Anton yanked out of his son’s grip. “Not in my house,” he declared, his expression wild with fury as he pointed at Lindsay who looked horror-stricken and at a total loss. That terrified Kieran more than any loud ranting of his father’s. “Not in my world, my brewery, or anywhere around, do you get me? I’m not about to have it, Lindsay. I won’t have it.”
Alarmed at his father’s red face and clenched jaw, Kieran tensed. Something in him knew this would be Anton’s reaction but when faced with it, in front of God, and a church full of people here for a wedding, he withered inside. Cara was now next to him, her hand on his arm. When Kent reached the door, he turned to face Anton then lifted his chin at someone behind them.
“Mother, I am sorry. But I’m done pretending.” He addressed Anton next. “Sir, your son hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“The hell you say,” Anton growled as he lunged for Kent. “My son is no fag.” It took Kieran and Antony both to restrain him. “Let go of me.” Anton pointed a shaking finger at Kent. “Stay away from my son.”
/> “I can’t, sir, I’m sorry that you feel this way. But we....”
“Shut up,” Anton roared, filling the church with the echo of his fury. Aiden forced his body between the men, facing his father.
“Daddy, let’s go home and calm down, okay? This is no place for—”
Anton shoved his youngest son aside so hard he stumbled and dropped to his knees. Kieran’s head pounded in agonized fury at the sight. It was just the leading edge of what he knew would be a colossal, messy, family breach—one that his messy, breach-making sibling may not be able to claw his way out of.
“My son is dead,” their father declared before spitting on the floor of the church. The finality of his words punctured a hole in Kieran’s chest, and he gasped as if in the grip of an asthma attack. Anton stomped down the steps, giving Kent a wide berth. Lindsay let out a sob and dropped into the pew before getting surrounded by well-dressed women fanning her face and demanding someone bring them ice water.
Cara still had a death grip on his arm. Kieran grabbed her and pulled her around in front of him. “Marry me?” He’d never been more sure of anything.
She shook her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I...I don’t know....”
He gripped her arms. “Please.”
The room got quiet as the crowd realized the drama had taken a shift in a positive direction. He got down on one knee, and slipped Kent’s engagement ring off her finger never taking his eyes off hers. The crowd applauded but Kieran heard nothing but the beating of his own heart.
Epilogue
Four Years Later
Kieran rose and stretched, accepting the exhaustion as part of his new reality. The sun peeked over the horizon, tingeing the cloud cover orange and pink, so he figured he might as well make coffee. He made his slow way through the maze of cardboard boxes, praying for a few more minutes of peace. The familiar process—filling the pot with water, measuring out the grounds, and touching the slightly wonky start button gave him a bit of confidence that the day would progress in a reasonable fashion.