The enormous amounts of grandiose wedding dramatics were finally coming to an end, and Dylan could finally see the light at the end of the sappy tunnel she had been trapped in for months.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t be happy for the new couple, but she had seen enough tears and smiles to last her a lifetime. Over the course of her nine month bridesmaid ordeal, she had managed to make several promises to herself regarding her own wedding. She finally came to the conclusion that elopement was always the best way to go.
“Dylan, hold my flowers,” Meredith barked rabidly. “Here. Like this, Dylan! You’re going to squish the petals.”
Dylan smiled graciously, and patiently took the bouquet from her new sister’s hands. “I need a drink,” she whispered to Jonah, who closed his eyes and nodded with a gradual smirk.
“I need a bathroom and a cold washcloth,” Jonah murmured through a smile full of teeth. “I don’t think the wedding photos are going to look as great if the groom has puke on his shoulder. I’m just saying.”
“Just a few more, everyone!” the photographer yelled to the group. “Then you can all go get those drinks you’ve been promised.”
“Thank God,” Charlie exclaimed through a groan without thinking. “I mean, oh damn,” he corrected when Meredith shot him a warning look.
The final shutters sounded from the camera and the group was at last released to make their ways to the reception tent and finish the celebration off with ease.
Inside the tent, the night took off without a hitch. All but Jonah seemed to conquer the sickly feeling of the previous night’s guzzling of alcohol. The laughter and dancing roared through the white canopy, making the evening a successful one.
Dylan watched from her table with amusement. She drank the ice cold beer that she opted to enjoy through a champagne flute in order to look less like the tomboy she had always been labeled as. No Ben, she noticed. The ambivalence that surrounded that one observation was enough to annoy her for the rest of her life.
She couldn’t deny that a twinge of stinging sadness had erupted through her when she was forced to watch Meredith dance with her father. I used to be a daddy’s girl, she thought to herself.
“Dance with me,” Hugh demanded with a grin. Dylan was sure he had sensed her brief moment of self pity. “I won’t tell anyone we’re related.”
Dylan chuckled, adding a last minute, fake eye roll, and grabbed his hand. “I’m sure no one could tell,” she pointed out sarcastically.
“I get the next one!” Brandon hollered to Hugh as he led Dylan to the floor.
A smile graced his lips when the band began the slow tune that was once their parents’ song.
Dylan loved dancing with her brothers. It was one of her fondest memories that at first she hated, but after years of special occasions and Linda’s constant insistence, she found that there was never really anyone she would rather dance with than a Mathews man.
Hugh twirled her around and forced a loud giggle to emerge from her throat.
“You look pretty tonight. Do you know that?” Hugh asked as he pulled her back to him. “I can’t believe how beautiful you’ve turned out, Weed—shit—sorry—Dylan.”
Dylan couldn’t help but to laugh. He was trying, and she would always give her airhead brother the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks. Now stop,” she demanded quickly.
“Okay,” he said, understanding that the line of mush was dangerously close to being crossed.
“Really, though, thank you, Hugh,” Dylan said tenderly, and then trusted him completely as he dipped her back with an enormous grin.
Jonah stood outside the tent, hidden from view, and tried to collect each gust of breath that mercifully came to him. If he were to lose it at any point tonight he would never hear the end of it from his brothers, who insisted that he was the lightweight of the bunch.
As he rounded a corner, he was stopped by a familiar silhouette that hovered deep in the shadows and spied casually on the ongoing party inside. It was rather obvious to see what had his attention so locked.
Jonah looked through a small opening and watched as Hugh glided his sister over the dance floor. She really did look stunning as she absorbed the twinkle lights that hung from the ceiling. It was a long way from her usual ripped jeans and T-shirts, he thought.
She smiled as Hugh dipped her, and handed her off to a smiling Charlie, who wasted nothing as he twirled her around. Brandon laughed and threw his arms up into the air, impatiently waiting for his turn to dance with his little sister. Jonah knew he should probably get in there and join the traditional fight. This was something they did on every special occasion and Linda would notice his absence. He was already in enough hot water with her; it would be rather stupid of him to hand another disappointment to his mother now.
The game was naturally a crowd pleaser, but Jonah always felt it was Dylan that created the audience. He was merely a prop in the show. It was unintentional, but she simply stole the thunder everywhere she went, even at weddings.
“She looks pretty, doesn’t she?” Jonah said to Ben’s back.
Ben didn’t seem surprised to hear his voice. He didn’t take his eyes from Dylan, as he softly confirmed, “Yes.”
“Inside and out,” Jonah replied, feeling a bit of pride as he said it. “She’s the best of all of us, isn’t she?”
Ben nodded and sighed as he hung his head low. “Is she happy?” he asked with a shaky breath.
“I think she’s getting there.” Jonah took a step closer, before adding, “Why don’t you go in and ask her yourself? I can’t say this for Brandon or even Hugh, but I’m sure there are a few people that would like to see you.”
Ben shook his head and stepped backwards. “I should get going. I’ll only ruin the night.”
“Well, you’ll never know unless you try,” Jonah said, carefully considering his boundaries.
Ben’s chin lifted when the laughter grew louder from inside. Brandon had managed to steal Dylan away from Charlie, and now guided her through the crowds, far away from any others that may have wanted to steal her.
Dylan beamed with joy as she and Brandon danced and laughed. Her expression was alive with happiness radiating from every piece of her. She looked oblivious—like any sorrow she had before had disappeared the moment Hugh asked her dance.
Jonah watched in astonishment as a tear escaped from Ben’s eye. It was so rapid that he was sure his eyes had tricked him, but a small part of him knew it had been real, despite Ben’s quick hand that wiped the drop away.
“Hand her over, Mathews!” Michael’s voice bellowed from inside. He pulled Dylan from Brandon’s grasp and spun her into the crook of his arm.
“Brothers only, Olerson,” Brandon teased. “Last time I checked you weren’t included in that!”
“And thank God for it,” Michael replied quickly. “Trust me, I would never want to be her brother. But as owner of the roof she lives under, I am entitled to at least two dances.”
Dylan shrugged her shoulders and happily allowed Michael to whisk her away.
Jonah noticed Ben’s wide eyed expression and the quick backward pace his feet began to make. “Ben, wait. Don’t go yet. Let me run in and get Charlie.”
“No. I can’t. I’m sorry, Jonah,” he said, and stepped closer to his awaiting cab. Hey, don’t tell her I was here, okay? I don’t want her to be upset.” He looked into the tent once more and allowed a peaceful expression to take over his face. “I don’t want that smile to go away, and I have a tendency of making that happen with her.”
“Okay,” Jonah said regretfully, and watched Ben duck into the cab and close the door.
Suddenly, Brandon emerged from the tent and lunged for the taxi when he realized who was inside. “What the hell is he doing here?”
Jonah held onto his brother and restrained him from taking another step. He tapped Brandon’s chest to calm him, and demanded, “Let him go.”
“Why are you protecting him?”
“Becaus
e,” Jonah began in wonder, “I think he really loves her.”
They watched the taxicab drive away until they could no longer see it. Brandon slowly relaxed as he processed his brother’s words.
“This is about him, Brandon. It was never about our sister,” Jonah said, and then made his way into the reception.
Chapter Nineteen
Dylan sat quietly in her mother’s kitchen. She contemplated her previous night and tried to decide how she felt about Ben’s absence.
“Morning,” Jonah grumbled from behind her. “Coffee.”
Dylan looked her brother over with a raised brow. “Put clothes on,” she demanded at the sight of his boxer briefs.
“Shut it,” he answered simply.
“Are you still hungover from the other night? I didn’t see you drink at all at the reception.”
Jonah nodded as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I fell in love with a stripper. She stole my heart, my wallet, and possibly a necklace of Mom’s. Her name is Sparkle.”
“Of course it is,” Dylan replied, stifling a burst of laughter. She seriously wondered how much of this story she wanted to hear.
“What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have your own place now?” Jonah asked as he sipped from his cup. “I’d like to see it today. I promise, no alarms, mace, or guard dogs.”
Dylan sighed into her hands. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell Mom that I may or may not have a job offer in Boston.”
Jonah’s eyes widened as he chuckled. “Yep. That’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Dylan asked with a confused glare.
“Send her straight over the edge,” he answered. “Then again, she has to let go eventually, I suppose.”
“Yeah, tell her that,” Dylan replied, deciding right then and there that this bomb will have to wait to be dropped.
She didn’t even know if the offer would come. The possibility of Lorenz Fuller disliking her work was quite possible and she had learned well that certain things were usually too good to be true.
“You know,” Jonah began as he rested in the chair beside her, “Boston is pretty close to Cambridge.”
“That did cross my mind.” Dylan stirred her coffee and avoided his careful stare. “It wouldn’t make a difference, Jonah.”
“Sure it would,” he said quickly.
“No. It wouldn’t.” Dylan glanced up to see the battle in Jonah’s eyes. He was debating something in that head of his. She didn’t want to know. “Just drop it, Jonah. The issue is a dead horse and I’m sick of beating it, you know?”
Jonah groaned. “I hate being in the middle of this shit. You know that. But I’ve been on the sidelines for so long now; I think I should be able to say what I think.”
“What sidelines?” Dylan asked incredulously.
“C’mon, Dylan, you think I didn’t know about the two of you?” Jonah asked with frustration in his voice. “He was my best friend. I saw the way he looked at you. I knew when he came up to your room, and I saw you guys on New Years Eve.”
“Oh,” was all she could manage to mutter.
“He loves you. I really believe that. And it’s so crazy because this is Ben we’re talking about. But, then again, it’s not so crazy because I’m pretty sure it’s always been you. I think he just freaked out.”
“Don’t dredge all this up. Just stop it.” Dylan stood to her feet, afraid she would begin to cry.
“I hate being in the middle of this. You have no idea how bad this sucks,” Jonah said like he was in pain.
Dylan shot him a look of warning, and snapped, “I have no idea? Seriously, Jonah?”
Jonah smirked and threw his hands up in defense. “Okay. That was a pretty stupid thing for me to say,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.”
Dylan retreated. She had been ready to punch him in the nose. “Please just drop it.”
As Dylan walked away from him, Jonah called after her. “He was at the reception last night. I found him outside watching you.”
She closed her eyes and sent a cold tear rolling down her cheek. She felt relief that her back was all that Jonah could see in her moment of weakness.
“I don’t care,” she lied, and merely walked away.
Ben did an awkward dance in front of his father’s white mansion for what seemed like hours. His foot went up the stone step that lead to the porch, and then immediately down when his chest stung with a nervousness that had become all too familiar since his first visit to Phoenix back in December.
Life was much simpler before that memorable trip. He was convinced that his life would have been the same as it had been had he never allowed his mother to guilt him into coming.
That trip would never have brought him to Dylan, though.
He jumped when the door finally opened, and a petite blonde stepped out. She smiled with a warm expression, and Ben knew instantly who she was. He also realized in that same instant that his imagination was sadly inaccurate when he pictured her before.
“Hello,” she said. “You must be Ben.”
“You must be Jackie,” Ben replied carefully.
“Come in,” she said with a pleasant smile. She opened the door wide and held it there until Ben stepped in.
Ben looked around at the grand ambiance that filled the room before him. It was only the foyer, but Ben could only imagine what the rest of the home looked like. It was white, clean, and full of expensive décor. It was almost the Yin to Ruth’s Yang. His mother’s home looked like an expensive version of Hell. This place looked like an expensive version of Heaven. Fitting, he thought.
“I was just putting lunch on,” she spoke from behind him. “Are you hungry?”
Ben noticed two round faces that peaked at him from just around the other side of a wall. Their porcelain little cheeks shined with a tint of pink as they stared at him bashfully. His new sisters, he figured.
Ben turned to shake his head uncomfortably at Jackie. “No, thank you. I’d rather just see my father, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course,” she said, and motioned with her chin up to the grand staircase before them. “He’s in bed, but he should be awake. It’s the fourth set of doors on the right. Don’t mind the mess.”
“Thank you,” Ben replied, and made his way up.
The room was dark and eerily reminded him of the way his mother’s room looked when he found her dead. The sun gleamed through the window and shot across the room, touching everything in its path.
Medical machines had been set up all around the bed with cords running to and from each piece of equipment, tangling themselves on top of the carpet and finally running under the bed in an attempt at discretion.
Ben had never seen his father so fragile. He was barely noticeable tucked under the white sheets that covered him. He looked old, much older than the middle-aged man he had seen only a few months before.
“Dad,” Ben whispered, nearly choking on that one word.
Warren’s eyes fluttered weakly.
Ben sat down on the bed, carefully finding a place that wouldn’t disrupt his father’s comfort, if there was any at all. “Sir, it’s me, Benjamin.”
“I know. I’m not blinded by this condition,” Warren whispered with a raspy voice. “You should be working,” he scolded tiredly. “What are you doing in New York?”
Ben stifled his anger. He should have felt no surprise that his father would worry over his internship, no matter what the circumstances.
“Darius gave me a bit of time off. He assured me that I can come back when I’ve dealt with—you know—whatever this is.” It was hard to even look at him. Was he dying?
Warren gave a weakened wave. “He’s a pompous moron. I never wanted you working under him. That’s just proof that he’s a sap of a man.”
Ben chuckled. “He’s not a sap. He’s taught me a lot in a very short time, actually. And he happens to have an enormous amount of respect for you.”
Warren gave another weak wave, followed by a sickening g
roan. “I’m happy you’re here, anyway. I have something for you. Go to that hutch over there,” he said, pointing, “there’s a box I need you to get.”
Ben did as he was told and brought back the wooden box. He placed it down next to his father and waited for the next order. There would always be another command.
“Open it,” Warren demanded.
Once again, Ben did as he was told and opened the box. Inside were papers, medals, awards, and certificates, each with Ben’s name stamped in calligraphy at the top. It seemed bottomless and it was every achievement Ben had ever earned. At the top of the pile rested an envelope with Ben’s name scrawled in a messy version of his father’s handwriting.
“Don’t read that letter until you leave,” Warren made sure to utter. Ben hadn’t planned on reading it in front of him but seriously imagined what it could possibly say.
“Okay,” Ben agreed in barely a whisper.
“I don’t want to waste this time by discussing what happened between us, Benjamin. I only want to have a pleasant talk.” He smiled with amusement. “So, how are you?”
Ben smirked as he leaned over to fix his father’s pillow. “Terrible. And you?”
“Dying,” Warren admitted with a chuckle.
“That sucks, Dad.”
“Yes.” Warren sighed, and asked, “Have you seen the crying young lady that you chased out of your apartment that one morning?”
Ben laughed, remembering all to well what he was talking about. “Yes. I see her, but she wants me dead so I try not to speak to her.”
“Are there any women out there that want you alive, son?”
“No. Well, maybe one,” Ben joked. “But I ruined that and she’s with someone else. She even lives with him now.”
“That must be the Mathews girl. Jonah’s twin, right?” he asked as if he had been there all along.
“Dylan,” Ben confirmed. He couldn’t help but to keep his bewildered expression.
“You’re surprised I know a bit about your life?” Warren asked with a smile. “I should have been closer, I suppose. Maybe this is karma for my mishaps as a father. I did know things, though, Benjamin.”
Under the Orange Moon Page 24