by Robyn Carr
She lifted one light brown brow. “How do I know you’re harmless?”
“I’m going back to sacrifice myself to the gods of residency in two days. They’ll chew me up and spit me out. Those chief residents are ruthless and they want revenge for what was done to them when they were the little guys. There won’t even be a body left. No one will ever know you succumbed to having a beer with me.” And then he smiled with all his teeth.
She tsked and rolled her eyes at him.
He sat up. “See how much you like me? You’re putty in my hands.”
“You’re a dork!”
He got to his feet and held out a hand to her, helping her up. “I’ve heard that, but I’m not buying it yet. I think if you dig deep enough, I might be cool.”
She brushed off the knees of her jeans. “I’m not sure I have that kind of time.”
Three
Once Drew got up and moved, he limped. He claimed a wounded hip and leaned on Sunny. Since she couldn’t be sure if he was faking, she allowed this. But just as they neared the steps, the doors to the bar flew open and people began to spill out, laughing, shouting, waving goodbye.
“Careful there,” he yelled, straightening up. “I just slipped on the steps. They’re iced over. I’ll get Jack to throw some salt on them, but take it slow and easy.”
“Sure,” someone said. “Thanks, Drew.”
“Be careful driving back to Chico,” someone else said.
“Say hello to your sisters,” a woman said. “Tell them to come up before too long, we miss them.”
“Pinch that cute baby!”
“Will do,” Drew said in response, and he pulled Sunny to the side to make way for the grand exodus. The laughing, joking, talking people, some carrying their plates and pots from the buffet table, headed for their cars.
“What the heck,” Sunny said. “It’s not even nine o’clock!”
Drew laughed and put his arm back over her shoulder to lean on her. “This is a little town, Sunny. These folks have farms, ranches, orchards, vineyards, small businesses and stuff like that. The ones who don’t have to get up early for work—even on holidays—might stay later. And some of the folks who are staying are on call—the midwife, the cop, the doctor.” He grinned. “Probably the bartender. If anyone has a flat on the way home, five gets you ten either Jack or Preacher will help out.”
“Do you know all these people?”
“A lot of them, yeah. I’ll give you the short version of the story—my sister Marcie was married to a marine who was disabled in action and then later died. She came up here to find his best friend and sergeant—Ian Buchanan. She found him in a run-down old cabin up on the ridge, just over the county line, but the nearest town was Virgin River. So—she married him and they have a baby now. My oldest sister, Erin, wanted a retreat up here, but she couldn’t handle a cabin with no indoor bathroom or where you’d have to boil your bath water and chop your wood for heat, so she got a local builder to renovate one into something up to her standards with electricity, indoor plumbing and a whirlpool tub.” He laughed. “Really, Marcie’s pretty tough, but if Erin risked breaking a nail, that would make her very cranky.” He looked at Sunny and smiled. “It used to be a lean-to, now it should be in Architectural Digest. Anyway, I’ve been up here several times in the past couple of years, and Jack’s is the only game in town. You don’t have to drop into Jack’s very many times before you know half the town. I’m hiding out in the cabin for a few days to get some studying done, away from my sisters and the baby. I have to go back on the second. I just swung through town for a beer—I had no idea there was a party.”
They just stood there, in front of the porch, his arm draped across her shoulder. It was kind of silly—she was only five foot four and he was easily six feet, plus muscular. He didn’t lean on her too heavily.
“Is it very hard, what you do? Residency?”
“It doesn’t have to be. It could be a learning experience, but the senior residents pile as much on you as they can. It’s like a dare—who can take it all and keep standing. That’s the part that makes it hard.” Then he sobered for a second. “And kids. I love working with the kids, making them laugh, helping them get better, but it’s so tough to see them broken. Being the surgeon who puts a kid back together again—it’s like the best and worst part of what I do. Know what I mean?”
She couldn’t help but imagine him taking a little soccer player into surgery, or wrapping casting material around the arm of a young violinist. “Your sister was married to a soldier who was killed...?”
“She was married to a marine. Bobby was permanently disabled by a bomb in Iraq. He was in a nursing home for a few years before he died, but he never really came back, you know? No conscious recognition—the light was on but no one was home. They were very young.”
“Were you close to him?”
“Yeah, sure. He was two years older and we all went to high school together. Bobby went in right after graduation. Ian was a little older, so I didn’t know him until Marcie brought him home.” He laughed sentimentally. “She’s something, Marcie. She came up here to find Ian, make sure he was all right after the war and to give him Bobby’s baseball card collection. She brought him home on Christmas Eve and said, ‘This is Ian and I’m going to marry him as soon as he can get used to the idea.’”
“This is why,” she said softly. “This is why you can move on after getting dumped by your fiancée. You’ve seen some rough stuff and you know how to count your blessings. I bet that’s it.”
He turned Sunny so she faced him. Of course he couldn’t lean on her then, but he got close. “Sunny, my family’s been through some stuff... Mostly my sisters, really—they had it toughest. But the thing that keeps me looking up instead of down—it’s what I see at work everyday. I’m called on to treat people with problems lots bigger than mine—people who will never walk again, never use their arms or hands, and sometimes worse. Orthopedic pain can be terrible, rehab can be extended and dreary.... Tell you what, sunshine—I’m upright, walking around, healthy, have a brain to think with and the option to enjoy my life. Well, I’m not going to take that for granted.” He lifted a brow, tilted his head, smiled. “Maybe you should spend a little time in my trauma center, see if it fixes up all those things you think you should worry about?”
“What about your chief residents?” she asked, showing him her smile.
“Oh, them. Well, I pretty much wish them dead. No remorse, either. God, they’re mean. Mean and spiteful and impossible to please.”
“Will you be a chief resident someday?”
His smile took on an evil slant. “Yes. But not soon enough. Watch yourself on these stairs, honey.” Before opening the door for Sunny, he stopped her. “So—want to find a cozy spot by the fire and tell me about the breakup that left you so sad and unapproachable?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Fair enough. Want to tell me how you got into photography?”
She smiled at him. “I could do that.”
“Good. I’ll have Jack pour you a glass of wine and while he’s doing that I’ll scatter some salt on those icy steps.” He touched her pink nose. “Your mission is to find us a spot in that bar where we can talk. If I’m not mistaken, we’re the only two singles at this party.”
* * *
Sunny went back to the place near the fire where she had left her camera bag and put her camera away. She glanced over at Drew. He stood at the bar talking with Jack; Jack handed him a large canister of salt.
And suddenly it was someone else standing at the bar, and it wasn’t this bar. Her mind drifted and took her back in time. It was Glen and it was the bar at their rehearsal dinner. Glen was leaning on the bar, staring morosely into his drink, one foot lifte
d up on the rail. His best man, Russ, had a hand on his back, leaning close and talking in Glen’s ear. Glen wasn’t responding.
Why hadn’t she been more worried? she asked herself in retrospect. Maybe because everyone around her had been so reassuring? Or was it because she refused to be concerned?
Sunny wasn’t very old-fashioned, but there were a few traditional wedding customs she had wanted to uphold—one was not seeing her groom the day of her wedding. So she and her cousin Mary, who was also her matron of honor, would spend the night at Sunny’s parents’ house after the rehearsal dinner. Even still, she remembered thinking it was a little early when Glen kissed her good-night that evening.
“I’m going out with the boys for a nightcap, then home,” he said.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Sure. Fine.” His smile was flat, she knew things were not fine.
“You’re not driving, are you?”
“Russ has the keys. It’s fine.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She remembered so vividly that she laid her palm against his handsome cheek. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
He didn’t move his head, but his eyes had darted briefly away. “Me, too.”
When Russ came over to her to say good-night, she had asked, “What’s bothering Glen?”
“Oh, he’ll be fine.”
“But what is it?”
Russ had laughed a bit uncomfortably. “Y’know, even though you two have been together a long time, lived together and everything, it’s still a pretty big step for a guy. For both of you, I realize. But guys... I don’t know what it is about us—I was a little jittery the day before my wedding. And it was absolutely what I wanted, no doubt, but I was still nervous. I don’t know if it’s the responsibility, the lifestyle change...”
“What changes?” she asked. “Besides that we’re going to take a nice trip and write a lot of thank-you notes?”
“I’m just saying... I’ve been in a bunch of weddings, including my own, and every groom I’ve ever known gets a little jumpy right before. Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy him a drink on the way home, make sure he gets all tucked in. You’ll be on your way to Aruba before you know it.” Then he had smiled reassuringly.
“Will you ask him to call me to say good-night?” she asked.
“Sure. But if he’s slurring by then, don’t hold it against me!”
She’d been up late talking to Mary; they’d opened another bottle of wine. By the time they fell asleep it was the wee hours and they’d slept soundly. In the morning when she checked her cell phone, she found a text from Glen that had come in at three in the morning. Going to bed. Talk to you tomorrow.
She wanted to talk to him, but she thought it would probably be better if he slept till noon, especially if there was anything to sleep off, so he’d be in good shape for the ceremony. All she wanted was for the wedding to be perfect! She had many bridely things to do and was kept busy from brunch getting a manicure and pedicure, surrounded by the women in her family and her girlfriends.
The New Year’s Eve wedding had been Sunny’s idea. It had been born of a conversation with the girls about how they’d never had a memorable New Year’s Eve—even when they had steady guys, were engaged or even married. Oh, there’d been a few parties, but they hadn’t been special in any way. Sunny thought it would be fantastic—a classy party to accompany her wedding, something for everyone to remember. An unforgettable event.
Little did she know.
She’d been so busy all day, she hadn’t worried that she never heard from Glen. She assumed he was as occupied with his guys as she was with her girls. In fact, it hadn’t really bothered her until about five, still a couple of hours till the wedding. She called him and when he didn’t pick up, she left him a voice mail that she loved him, that she was so happy, that soon they would be married and off on a wonderful honeymoon.
It was very hard for a photographer to choose a photographer; almost no one was going to measure up to Sunny’s expectations. But the very well-known Lin Hui was trying her best, and started snapping shots as soon as the girls showed up at the church with hairdressers and professional makeup artists in tow. Her camera flashed at almost every phase of preparation and in addition captured special memories—shiny, strappy heels against flowers, female hands clutching white satin, mothers of the bride and groom embracing and dabbing each other’s eyes. But the poor thing seemed very nervous. Sunny assumed it was because of the challenge of shooting another professional. She had no idea it was because Lin couldn’t find the groom for a photo shoot of the men in the wedding party.
It happened at six forty-five, fifteen minutes before the ceremony was to start. Sunny’s father came into the wedding prep room with Russ. Both of them looked as if someone had died and she immediately gasped and ran to her father. “Is Glen all right?”
“He’s fine, honey.” Then he sent everyone out of the room including Sunny’s mom and the mother of the groom. He turned to Russ and said, “Tell her.”
Russ hung his head. He shook it. “Don’t ask me what’s got into him, I really can’t explain. There’s no good reason for this. He said he’s sorry, he just isn’t ready for this. He froze up, can’t go through with it.”
She had never before realized how fast denial can set in or how long it can last. “Impossible. The wedding is in fifteen minutes,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry—I spent all day trying to get through this with him. I even suggested he just show up, do it, and if he still feels the same way in a few months, he can get a divorce. Honest to God, it made more sense to me than this.”
She shook her head and then, inexplicably, laughed. “Aw, you guys. This is not funny. You got me, okay? But this isn’t funny!”
“It’s not a joke, baby,” her father said. “I’ve tried calling him—he won’t pick up.”
“He’ll pick up for me,” she said. “He always picks up for me!”
But he didn’t. Her call was sent to voice mail. Her message was, “Please call me and tell me I’m just dreaming this! Please! You can’t really be ditching me at the church fifteen minutes before the wedding! Not you! You’re better than this!”
Russ grabbed her wrist. “Sunny—he left his tux in my car to return. He’s not coming.”
Sunny looked at her father. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked in a whisper.
Her father’s face was dark with anger, stony with fury. “We’ll give him till seven-fifteen to call or do something honorable, then we make an announcement to the guests, invite them to go to the party and eat the food that will otherwise be given away or thrown out, and we’ll return the gifts with apologies. And then I’m going to kill him.”
“He said he’ll pay back the cost of the reception if it takes his whole life. But there’s no way he can pay me back for what he asked me to do today,” Russ said. “Sunny, I’m so sorry.”
“But why?”
“Like I said, he doesn’t have a logical reason. He can’t, he said.” Russ shook his head. “I don’t understand, so I know you can’t possibly.”
Sunny grabbed Russ’s arm. “Go tell his mother to call him! Give her your cell phone so he’ll think it’s you and pick up!”
But Glen didn’t pick up and his mother was left to growl angrily into the phone’s voice mail right before she fell apart and cried.
Before they got even close to seven-fifteen everyone nearby was firing questions at Sunny like it was her fault. Why? Did he talk to you about this? Was he upset, troubled? Did you suspect this was coming? You must have noticed something! How can you not have known? Suspected? Were you having problems? Arguing about something? Fighting? Was his behavior off? Strange? Was there another woman? It didn’t take long for her to erupt. “You’ll have to ask him! And he’s not even here to ask! Not only did
he not show up, he left me to try to answer for him!”
At seven-ten, right before her father made an announcement to the wedding guests, Sunny quietly got into the bridal limo. She took her bouquet—her beautiful bouquet filled with roses and orchids and calla lilies—made a stop at her parents’ house for her purse and honeymoon luggage and had the driver take her home.
Home. The town house she shared with Glen. Her parents were frantic, her girlfriends were worried, her wedding guests wondered what went wrong. She wasn’t sure why she went home, maybe to see if he’d moved out while she was having a manicure and pedicure. But no—everything was just as she’d left it. And typical of Glen, the bed wasn’t made and there were dirty dishes in the sink.
She sat on the edge of their king-size bed in her wedding gown, her bouquet in her lap and her cell phone in her hand in case he should call and say it was all a bad joke and rather than pulling out of the wedding he was in the hospital or in jail. The only calls she got were from friends and family, all worried about her. She fended off most of them without saying where she was, others were forced to leave messages. For some reason she couldn’t explain to this day, she didn’t cry. She let herself fall back on the bed, stared at the ceiling and asked herself over and over what she didn’t know about this man she had been willing to commit a lifetime to. She was vaguely aware of that special midnight hour passing. The new year didn’t come in with a kiss, but with a scandalous breakup.
Sunny hadn’t had a plan when she went home, but when she heard a key in the lock she realized that because she’d taken the bridal limo and left her car at her parents’, Glen didn’t know she was there. She sat up.
He walked through the bedroom door, grabbing his wallet, keys and change out of his pockets to drop onto the dresser when he saw her. Everything scattered as he made a sound of surprise and he automatically reached for his ankle where he always kept a small, backup gun. Breathing hard, he left it there and straightened. Cops, she thought. They like always having something, in case they happen to run into someone they put away...or a pissed-off bride.