by Howe, Olivia
Everyone gathered hands at the table and in his usual fashion, Brant led the traditional Christmas Day prayer.
“I would like to thank everyone who came together to bless us with this wonderful Christmas Day. God bless our family, our friends, our home and our union. We’ve been blessed with the bounty before us, lovingly prepared by my Holly. Life has its shares of struggles, but this moment, right here, shows us exactly what it is that we are fighting for. Each other. Merry Christmas and thank you, every one of you for being here with us.”
Holly watched Brant as he said his prayer. He had come such a long way. He knew the plights that they faced in life, but he would be there, fighting side by side with her. Together they were strong. Apart they were essentially useless. She continued to watch him with wide eyes and an open heart. They were finally on the same page.
Chapter Thirteen
Twenty Missed Calls and One Crack Shot…
December 26, 2013
Edgemont Residence
“Do you remember where you had it last?” asked Brant as he continued to look for Holly’s cell phone. He had checked down the cushions of the couch, in the kitchen, in her coat pockets, and even in the laundry, but it was to no avail. Her cell phone was MIA. With the excitement and hubbub of Christmas, Holly had completely forgotten about charging her cell phone that had gone dead almost three days ago.
“I was by the Christmas tree.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
Brant took one look at the Christmas tree and made an unpleasant face. There were toys everywhere. It looked as if a toy store had exploded in the living room.
“But wait…” said Holly, as another thought came to her mind. Brant looked at Holly, waiting for her to complete her thought.
“Then I went upstairs to find a charger in Chloe’s room, and it was a total mess. So I gave up. It’s got to be in there… somewhere.”
Brant sent Chloe up to her room to find Holly’s phone. Within minutes she had found it and brought it back downstairs in one piece. She handed it to her father, hoping to go back to playing with her toys.
“Thanks. Now go clean up that room,” Brant demanded.
“Aww, Dad…”
“Go.”
Brant gave the phone to Holly and followed her into the kitchen. She plugged it into the charger, grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet, and started to fry up some bacon for their lunch sandwiches. Brant was exhausted from moving all of his things over from his apartment, and they were both hungry. Suddenly, the phone came to life, vibrating every five seconds with a new missed call or text message. Brant looked up from his newspaper at her cellphone as his stomach dropped.
Chris Beckman
215-555-9241
His buddy Chris’ phone number kept popping up on Holly’s cell phone as a missed call. The word buddy should be used very loosely, as Brant had just told him off several weeks ago for asking about Holly, and most recently for trying to put the moves on her at Rogue. He used to be Brant’s best friend. That was all down the tubes now.
“Baby…” said Brant, as Holly’s phone vibrated again.
“Yeah?” asked Holly in return.
“Why is Chris Beckman calling your phone?”
“Chris Beckman?!” said Holly in startled surprise.
“Yeah, there are seven… No eight missed calls from him from Christmas Eve… Wait, there’s more…”
“I don’t even know how he has my number. I saw him at Rogue the other night. He asked me to dance with him and he got a little too friendly, so I left and Sloane and Russell took me home.”
“What do you mean, too friendly?”
“He took my kindness to mean something else. He tried to kiss me, and his hands kept moving lower off my waist than they should have,” Holly explained. The phone vibrated again and again. Fifteen missed calls. Sixteen.
Brant’s calm demeanor grew a little darker as he picked up the cell phone. Twenty missed calls from Chris Beckman.
“Honey, please know that I have no interest in Chris Beckman.”
“Holly, I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust. He has had a very deep interest in you since our days in college.”
Holly didn’t say a word. She had assumed Chris had a small crush on her, but she thought as he got older it would fade. Holly was dead wrong.
“When he calls back let me answer the phone,” said Brant in a firm voice.
*****
Holly placed a plate in front of Brant with a BLT and a side of chips. She looked at him nervously. She had never seen him so angry before.
God help Chris if he calls back.
Suddenly, the phone had lit up again.
“This son of a bitch,” said Brant. He pushed his plate away from him as he reached for Holly’s phone. He motioned for her to be quiet as he put the phone to his ear. Whatever cool Brant had left in his body had vanished and there was nothing but rage left.
“Yo, Holly! You don’t answer your fuckin’ phone?!” said Chris brashly into phone. Brant’s face was beat red with anger.
“Yo! You there?! Answer me!” Chris demanded.
Finally, Brant spoke up.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to like that, but it sure as hell ain’t me or Holly!” said Brant with a no-bullshit tone.
“Who the hell is this?!” yelled Chris into the other end of the phone.
“You don’t know? Are you a fucking idiot? Stop calling my wife’s phone!”
“Holly’s not married,” Chris quipped getting a good jab in at Brant.
“Not for long. Call her again, or show your face around here, and you’re going to have a real problem!” yelled Brant into the phone. He didn’t mince his words, and he wasn’t bluffing. Brant had no problem whatsoever knocking his former friend into next year, and Chris knew he’d do it. He didn’t spend all those hours in the boxing ring with him back in college for nothing. Brant knew how to protect his family, and he certainly didn’t take any crap from the likes of Chris Beckman.
“Dead serious, Beckman! Cross me again and you’ll be sorry.”
“Whatever, man! Your wife is a fucking tease!”
Brant hung up the call and tossed the phone back on the counter. He tried to gain some composure before looking at Holly.
“If he calls back, just let me handle him.”
Holly nodded as she left the kitchen, a swirl of anxiety flooding her belly. Just then, Brant’s cell phone lit up.
Chris Beckman: You had your chance and blew it. Back off. She’s mine.
*****
Brant had a searing headache so Holly told him to go upstairs and lay down. She hoped that a nap would help him feel better. While Brant rested, Holly was on a mission. She had a trash bag and was determined to get all the giftwrap, boxes, and tiny twist ties off of the floor in the living room and out onto the sidewalk for trash day. This was easier said than done, because every time she turned around it seemed like more cropped up. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket.
“What now?”
Her phone had gone off almost non-stop since Brant had gone upstairs.
Chris Beckman: Call me. We need to talk.
Chris Beckman: I know he’s manipulating you.
Chris Beckman: Holly, how could you be so stupid? He’s just going to leave you high and dry again.
Chris Beckman: HOLLY?! Why won’t you answer me?!
Chris Beckman: Fine. Act like a bitch!
Chris Beckman: I’m coming over.
“Oh, hell no. No no no.”
Holly looked up from her phone with worry as the doorbell rang. Nervously, Holly went to the door and opened it with a tug. Chris Beckman was standing outside with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a smug smile.
How did he get here that quick? Was he sitting outside?
“What are you doing here, Chris?!” Holly asked with attitude clear in her voice.
“You didn’t answer you
r phone the past couple of days. I was worried,” Chris said in a quiet, sweet voice that did not match the level of hostility in his calls or text messages. Holly gave him a look of disbelief.
“You’re full of shit! I know you talked to Brant.”
Chris dropped the façade, as a scowl crossed his face.
“You’re a game player, girl…”
“What games, Chris?!”
“We had something going the other night, and turns out my friend is back at home.”
“Your friend…? Your friend that wants to beat your ass?! And it was a dance. Nothing more.”
“Fucking whore.”
Before Holly could reply Brant was rushing out of the house bare chested and on the war path. He brushed right past Holly and gripped Chris by his shirt collar, slamming him into the side of his truck.
“What the hell, man!”
“Did I fucking stutter?! Stay the hell away from my wife and my house!”
“Get off of me!”
“I warned you. Come near my wife or my house again and I’m going to hand you your ass.”
Brant let go of his shirt with attitude and anger clear in his movements. He stared at Chris as he backed off with a threatening scowl on his face.
Suddenly several neighbors came outside to see what was happening. Mrs. McGarrigal from next door came out.
“Harold! They’re fighting!”
“Minnie, just come inside!”
“No, I’ve been dying to see some action! It’s been boring around here!”
“Minnie!”
Two old woman across the street chirped in hushed tones.
“Grown men fighting over a woman,” Helen Pimento said in a shocked voice.
“I know!” Rita said with her voice full of excitement. “I wish I had two young studs to fight over me!”
Helen laughed as her friend flagged her face which had turned red.
That’s when Chris upped the ante.
“Aren’t you two quite the couple…? You’ve got a wife who’s a tease, and a husband who backs out at the slightest sign of trouble! You’re really going back to that Holly! He’s just going to flake out on you again! You could’ve had a real man. Like me!”
Both Holly and Brant saw red. This time it wasn’t Brant who was storming at Chris. Holly ran from the porch, much quicker than Brant’s own fast gait. Though she was half a foot shorter than Chris, he stared at her with fear in his eyes. In a moment of rage, she poured all her strength into a sucker punch that collided with Chris Beckman’s right eye.
“Bastard! You aren’t half the man that Brant is! Screw off!” screamed Holly as she shook her fist in pain. Brant stood by, shocked but amused.
“Oooooh! A woman fighting!” Helen cried out, loud enough for Holly to hear.
“I know! What kind of lesson is she teaching her children?!” Rita cosigned.
“Hey you two!” Holly yelled across the street with a pissed off look on her face.
“Us?” Rita and Helen asked in unison.
“Yeah! You two!”
Holly was walking across the street at this point, pointing her finger at the two old woman.
“Go back inside and mind your business! And the lesson I’m teaching my children is quite clear, nobody messes with my family.”
Giving the newsy neighbors one last glare, Holly turned on her heel and walked back to where Chris was lying on the ground and Brant stood laughing.
“Damn, girl! That’s one crack shot!” said Brant, proud of Holly. Not only had she knocked Chris Beckman on the ground, she stood up for Brant when Chris had talked down about him.
“I told you. I need someone to fight alongside of me. Not protect me,” Holly said as she winked at Brant.
Brant laughed, “I see that now!”
“Crazy bitch!” Chris yelled as he cowered down the street defeated. For now.
Chapter Fourteen
Delegations and Preparations…
December 27, 2013
Edgemont Residence
Sloane slammed a thick white three-ring binder onto the breakfast bar in Holly and Brant’s kitchen with a bang. She gave Holly’s hand a dirty look, which was now wrapped in a bandage. It was bruised and swollen.
“What the hell did you do to yourself?”
“I knocked out Chris Beckman.”
Immediately a big grin grew on Brant’s and Luke’s faces.
“Oh, good girl!” Sloane said with a wink.
Sloane continued to rifle through her book.
“Okay, people. We have work to do,” she said in a business-like tone. She had gathered all of the members of the wedding party and was ready to get down to business. Sloane had nominated herself as the wedding planner, and Holly and Brant were glad to grant her with the task. She told them that the only thing they had to do was pick a wedding party and show up.
It hadn’t taken much thought to decide who would be in the wedding. Brant immediately asked Marv to be his best man. He couldn’t think of anyone who was better suited for the task. Not only was he instrumental in arranging their first date, he was pivotal in getting them back together, too. Then for his groomsmen, he chose Greg and Luke, who were in Brant and Holly’s first wedding, and of course, he couldn’t forget Jake. The only guy that Brant didn’t include from his original wedding party was Chris, for obvious reasons.
Holly had a pretty easy time determining who her maid of honor would be. After arranging a Christmas party, essentially paying for their second wedding, and just all in all, being the best friend a girl could ask for, Holly had no problem tasking Sloane with the job of her maid of honor. Holly’s bridesmaids include her mother Gloria, and her daughters Chloe and Belle. Belle was initially asked to be a flower girl, but outright refused insisting that she is a big girl, and she wants a big girl dress.
Sloane continued, “Okay, we have a lot on the agenda today.”
Holly, Brant, Marv, Gloria, Luke and Greg all gave Sloane their full attention.
“First up. Invitations go out tomorrow. I am going to need Marv, Luke and Greg to assist. We don’t have enough time to mail them, so we are doing drive-by delivery. Marv, you and I will be taking Center City and South Philly. Luke, you can take the Northeast and Bensalem. Greg, can you handle South Jersey?”
They all nodded in agreement.
“Okay, that was easy. The guest list is 250 attendees long.”
Holly’s eyes went wide.
“Come again?”
“250 guests. That is the bare minimum for the venue.”
“Are we going to be able to fill it up?”
“This is a Sloane Markowitz production. Of course we will. Hmm…. Ah, attire.”
Sloane began flipping through her binder.
“Gentlemen. You have an appointment at Heinrich’s Distinguished Men’s Formal Wear on Spruce Street tomorrow at 5 P.M. Don’t be late. This is a black tie affair, Brant. No sneakers or boots, please. Luke… No ironic t-shirts with a tuxedo design on them. Greg… No belching during the ceremony.”
“You take away all the fun!” complained Luke with a smile.
“Moving on. Flowers. It’s off season so there wasn’t as much to choose from. Since it’s a winter wedding, we could do red and white roses.”
“No,” replied Brant rather bluntly.
“Why?” asked Sloane, looking confused at Brant.
Of all things for him to comment on, he chooses flowers?
“Holly likes lilies. White Casablanca lilies.”
Sloane eyed Holly speculatively.
“Holly, care to comment?”
“He’s right. I prefer the white lilies. I was thinking white Casablanca lilies with heather and red winterberries.”
Sloane raised her eyebrow.
“That might actually work.”
Sloane scribbled in her notebook, crossing of her original idea, and writing down Holly’s idea. It was stressful planning a
wedding on such short notice, but Sloane really made it look easy.
“Ladies. Midnight Affair Bridal Couture. 5 P.M. tomorrow. Don’t be late. Is there anything I’m missing? Oh, right… Transportation.”
Brant cut Sloane off at the mention of it.
“I have it covered.”
“But-“
“I have it covered, we’ll discuss it later.”
Holly gave Brant a sideways glance and smiled happily.
He always has a surprise up his sleeve.
“Okay, then. We’ll meet up on December 30th at Rogue at 8 P.M. for one last hurrah before the big day!”
*****
Tuxedo shopping went off without a hitch. Brant selected a simple black tuxedo with a white shirt, silver vest, silver tie and classic patent leather shoes. They were in and out within an hour, and they all walked out with all of their wedding day apparel. The girls would not have quite so short of an appointment at the dress shop.
*****
“Ah! Good afternoon, ladies! My name is Janelle and I’ll be assisting you today!”
“Hi Janelle,” said Sloane, “We made an appointment. We are with the Edgemont wedding party.”
“Wonderful. We’ll take care of your bridesmaid gowns first.”
Janelle looked over the varying ages and body sizes of Holly’s unique group of bridesmaids, all ranging in age from four years old to fifty five years old.
“It’s a New Year’s Eve wedding, so I was thinking black bridesmaid gowns. I’d like an all-black affair, except for my gown, of course.”