“Tell me why we had a slumber party again and why we couldn’t at least go to your room. You have a normal-size bed.”
“My room was already occupied.”
“Eww, gross. You let other people” —I lowered my voice to a whisper— “screw in your bed?”
Marshal shrugs. “It’s not a matter of letting. And I know who was in there. Bailey asked if he could use my room.” He shrugs again, taking a long drink of his black coffee. “What can I say? I’m a humanitarian.”
“Do you even know all those people still passed out?”
“Most of them.”
I force myself to take another bite. It’s a weird mind-over-matter thing. My mind knows that eating will help. My stomach isn’t convinced.
The sun escapes a cloud and I notice a discolored spot on Marshal’s cheek. Without thinking, I lift my hand to the spot. “Did you get hit?” Memories come back. “Wait, you got in a fight.”
“Not really a fight. I told that fucker to leave.”
Fucker?
“Leon?” I say and ask at the same time.
Marshal shrugs.
I remember the guy he’s talking about now. Whenever I turned last night at the party, I saw him looking my direction. Eventually, he found a seat by me at the bonfire. He was one of those guys who gives off a vibe, one that says he is confident and cocky, but his said more.
It gave me a warning.
By the end of the night, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Marshal intervened.
I drop my head to my arms on the table. “Jeez, Marsh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I peek up at him from my arms. “What about Wendy? You two seemed...interested.”
“Wendy will be around another night or she won’t. My friend, you were more important.”
“I was handling myself. I’m a big girl, you know.”
Marshal lays his hand on the table. “I know you can handle yourself. I just...” He didn’t finish the sentence.
“Leon gave me a creepy vibe,” I admit as I look again at the bruise. “Is he worse off than you, I hope?”
Marshal’s smile is back. “Yeah, I kicked his ass.”
“And the slumber party?”
“I wasn’t taking a chance on anyone coming back during the night.”
“I really do love you,” I say with a tired grin.
“Back at you.”
I lift my eyebrows. “I could do without the morning wood.”
“It was morning,” he says pleadingly.
“And your house is gross.”
“It’s not mine, and I’m moving out at the semester break. Then when you visit, I’ll have only one roommate.”
“Who?”
“I’m moving in with Drew. His roommate is graduating early.”
Finishing my breakfast sandwich, I nod approvingly. “I like Drew. I’ll buy you some Lysol as a housewarming gift.”
“The only thing that would help where I’m living now is a match.”
“I’ll get the lighter fluid.”
“See,” Marshal says, “that’s what I like about you. You’re willing to go to jail for me.”
I look at his bruise. “Well, you just admitted to assault for me. What’s a little arson for a friend?”
Marshal
Six years ago
* * *
“This weather is shit,” my brother, Marcus, says.
I shake my head. “Figures, it’s just like Grandpa to pass away during a freak spring snowstorm.”
Marcus smiles. “He would hate to have a big celebration of life, wouldn’t he?”
“Yeah. He avoided crowds at all costs.”
“You boys all right?” my dad asks as he comes up behind us.
Boys.
I’m literally weeks away from my graduation and have a job lined up in Grand Rapids, not terribly far from here, with one of the top architectural firms in the state. Marcus is three years older, married and living near Detroit with a baby on the way. Sally’s due date is close, only three weeks away, the same time as my graduation. And her doctor doesn’t want her to travel, especially not with the weather.
We turn. “How about you, Dad?” I ask.
“I’m worried about your grandmother. She’ll need everyone and with this snow” —he gestured toward the window— “there’s no way her and Dad’s friends will be able to make it here or the funeral.”
“You know that Sally would be here—”
Dad shakes his head at Marcus with a grin. “Sally is where she should be.”
“Just think,” I say, “soon you’ll be a grandpa, Grandpa George.”
“Circle of life,” he replies softly as he walks toward our mom and his other siblings.
Beyond the window, the snow continues to accumulate.
Hell, on my old truck, I see at least six inches and I’ve only been at the funeral home for a little more than an hour. This is supposed to be the visitation with the funeral following afterward. So far, it’s been only family with a few stragglers from my grandparents’ church. I guess it’s also my church. I just haven’t been in a while.
Life.
Things.
I currently live over an hour away.
I notice our grandma standing at the side of the casket, looking down at Grandpa. It’s an awful tradition if you ask me. I’ve never been a fan of funerals. Nevertheless, I make myself walk forward and take a moment since she’s alone.
“Grandma,” I say as I lay my hand on her lower back.
“Oh, Marshal,” she says with a smile. “Do you think he did this?”
“He?”
“Your grandpa?”
Did what...died?
I’m not sure what she means.
“This weather,” she says as she takes in my puzzled expression. “It would be just like Lloyd, you know.” She lowers her voice. “He never liked funerals or weddings, or well, any gathering. Unless it was a pitch-in. He loved pitch-ins.” A smile breaks across her face as she turns to the windows and back. “I can just hear him up in heaven talking to the good Lord and telling him to dump a snowstorm on us. For heaven’s sake, it’s April.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It was Lloyd. I just know it. He’s telling me that I should have bypassed all the pomp and circumstance.”
“Marcus and I were saying something similar.”
She turns and reaches up to my cheek with her cool hand. “You’re a good boy, Marshal.”
There it is again.
Boy.
Apparently, to family members kids don’t grow up.
“When are you going to settle down?”
“You know me, Grandma.”
“I do. You’re a lot like him” —she peers over at Grandpa— “you know?”
I turn and stare at my grandfather’s body.
While it’s not really there, I see the smirk on his lips, the way his eyes would sparkle when he’d play a joke or tease. He was always quick with a laugh and even quicker at giving his opinion. I don’t mind the comparison.
The door from the vestibule opens, bringing a gust of cool air.
Grandma turns and grins. “Well, lookie there.”
I turn and gaze in shock and awe as Sami shakes the snow from her hair and her mom whispers in her ear. Her dad, Paul, is a few steps behind. When Sami looks up, her green eyes meet mine. But instead of talking to me first, she and her parents go straight to my grandma. I watch as first Jean and then Sami reach for my grandma’s hand and offer their condolences. With each passing minute, I feel a sense of relief that my grandma has visitors, and at the same time, looking out the window, I want to scold Sami for traveling all the way from Ann Arbor in this weather.
Finally, she comes to me and lifts her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry, Marsh.”
“I should kick your ass,” I whisper as we hug, “for driving in this weather.”
When she steps back, her pretty face has a grin from ear to ear. “You tried that
when we were five. I believe I bloodied your nose.”
Looking down at all five feet five of her petite frame compared to my six feet three and knowing I outweigh her by at least one hundred and twenty pounds, I shake my head. “You always have been violent.”
“Me? You just threatened me.”
I reach for her hand. “Seriously, you shouldn’t have.”
“No, Marsh, I should. When have you ever let me down?”
“Well, there was that one time when I took all your M&M’s from your Halloween candy.”
Her green eyes open wide. “It was you. I blamed Millie.” She soft-punches my arm. “And you let me. You said you’d always tell me the truth.”
I nod. “If I remember correctly, you jumped to the Millie conclusion without asking me.” I shrug. “I simply didn’t correct you. That isn’t lying.”
She takes a step back and scans me from head to toe. “Just like that dance. You look good in a suit, Marsh.”
I do the same, taking in her pretty smile, soft sweater, black slacks, and boots. I shake my head. “I’m glad you didn’t wear that red dress. You would have given Grandpa a heart attack, if he hadn’t already had one.”
“Marsh.” She elongates my name. “Are you all right?”
“If I tell you that I’m better with you here, does it make me sound like a pussy?”
“No. It makes you sound like a man who could use his best friend.” Her gaze goes to the window and back. “Besides, it’s a bit cold for that dress.”
Taking her hand, I lead her out of the big room, down a hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Trust me?”
Her smile grows. “Always and forever, but...”
I stop. “But?”
“You have a history of getting me in trouble especially back here in Johnson.”
“Your memory is playing tricks on you. I think you’re the one who instigated most of those incidents.”
I tug her hand as we step into a kitchenette area with a table filled with food. Most of the food came from ladies from the church.
“Wow,” Sami says as she reaches for a mini-muffin. “The ladies from the church never disappoint.”
There was something comforting in not having to explain things to Sami. She just knew.
“Are you nervous?” she asks.
“About Grandpa? I’m worried about Grandma.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I mean about graduating and being expected to be adults.”
My brow furrows. “Me? I’m never nervous.”
“I’m scared shitless.” Her lips form an O and her green eyes grow wide as she lowers her head. “Oops. I don’t think I’m supposed to say shit in a funeral home.”
“It’s not a church, and no one but me heard you.” I lean against the counter. “The advertising firm where you’ll be working isn’t far from my new office.”
Sami smiles. “I’m so glad we’ll both be in Grand Rapids. It makes it easier knowing you’re there.”
“You just drove in a snowstorm. I think one of us could move to Australia and if the other needed something, we’d be together. In...twenty-four hours.”
“You’re right. It’s just, I imagined being like Marcus.” She points toward the room slowly filling with a few brave souls. “He and Sally met at Albion and they knew they’d found their forever. I’m about to graduate. No forever.”
“Don’t rush it. You’ll find him.”
“I’m not rushing. I know I’m young, but my parents were married by twenty-one and having kids a few years later.”
“Oh my,” I say, “I see it now.”
“What?”
“You. You’re an old maid at twenty-two.”
She reaches for her face, palming her cheeks. “Are my wrinkles showing?” Her expression turns. “What about you? Amy really seemed—”
“Clingy,” I offer, interrupting her.
“Oh, come on. You talked about her for nearly three months.”
I shake my head. “I think it’s a serious medical condition.” I scratch my neck. “I developed a rash.”
Sami’s hand goes up. “Oh, no stories about STDs.”
I can’t help but laugh. “No. I told you I keep it wrapped. I think that I’m allergic to commitment. She started talking about moving to Grand Rapids and getting an apartment together.” I scratch my arms. “See, even talking about it is making me itch.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“But you’re not. Give it time.”
For the next few hours, hometown friends and cousins join us, and all the while, Sami smiles and talks, knowing everyone. Hell, we all grew up together. It’s like old home week until it’s time for the ceremony celebrating my grandpa’s life.
As we walk into the main room, Sami looks around. I know she’s looking for her parents. “Hey,” I say as I reach for her hand and lower my voice. “I’m not being a pussy.”
“Never.”
“Sit with me.”
“What about your family?”
“Sit with all of us. I promise they won’t mind.”
And she does.
I’m not an emotional guy, and I don’t do feelings, but even I admit to loving my grandpa. Saying goodbye is one of those things that you know will come but always happens too soon. It’s nice having Sami with me, literally holding my hand.
Later, as we gather in the basement of the church, I see the long buffet of food and remember what Grandma said. I whisper to Sami, “Grandpa did love a good pitch-in.”
“Then I say we eat two plates each, just for him.”
A smile breaks through my sadness as she reaches for two plates. Hell, half the women I date won’t eat a full meal in front of me or any other guy, yet here’s Sami, balancing two plates while she fills them with homemade noodles, real mashed potatoes, and freshly canned green beans. “I’ll eat brussels sprouts tomorrow,” she says as she covers her noodles and potatoes with gravy.
I scan her slim frame. “I don’t think you need to worry, and you don’t like brussels sprouts.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have a desk job soon. I need to eat better. I’m going to gain weight and get old.”
“Bonus, extra weight will hide your wrinkles.”
She grins. “If I wasn’t holding two plates, I’d hit you.”
“You’re always so violent.”
“Here take this,” she says as she hands me one of her plates.
As soon as I do, she punches my arm. I barely feel it, but it doesn’t stop my comeback. “Violent and bossy.”
Sami
Less than one year ago
* * *
I can’t stop myself from looking at the gorgeous diamond on my left hand. Under the dim lighting of the bar, I wiggle my finger near the candle in the middle of our table.
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” my friend Linda says before leaning closer, the way she does when she’s been drinking.
The truth is that we’ve all been drinking.
Today, I broke the news of my engagement to Linda, Marcy, and Ashley, all friends of mine from work. I’ve been at this advertising agency for nearly four years, and when I started, Linda was my godsend, Marcy has the sweetest and most curious disposition, and Ashley started a year after me, and during the week and even on weekends, we’ve all been inseparable. When I announced my news this morning at work, I had no idea that Linda would call my sisters and arrange an impromptu engagement party.
Ashley lifts her hand in the air. “Another bottle of Moscato,” she shouts toward the bar.
Millie, my younger sister, shakes her head. “No, I have to drive back to Johnson.” She waves her hand over her nearly empty glass. “I need water.”
“No water, wine,” Linda says loudly. “Think of it as a miracle, water into wine. And an even greater miracle, Sami here is engaged.”
As everyone laughs, including me, I work to fake a pout. “It’s not a miracle. It’s my forever.”
Ashley l
ifts her glass. “To forever.”
“Forever,” Marcy says, emptying her glass and wiggling it in the air for more.
Linda tilts her head with a dreamy expression. “Tell us again how Jackson proposed.”
I take a deep breath. “On one knee.”
“Tell everyone where you were,” Millie chimes in.
“We were out to dinner at Sheffield’s.”
“The country club,” Linda adds. “Where he’s a member.”
“Yeah,” I reply, not wanting to flaunt Jackson’s money or his position. My fiancé—oh, that was fun to think—just made partner at a big law firm in Grand Rapids. It is all part of his plan—partner at the firm, wife, house, and family. I just am having a tough time believing that I am now a part of that plan. Not only a part. I will be his wife. He will be my husband.
“Do you have a date set?”
“No, Jack doesn’t want a long engagement.”
“Are we all going to be your bridesmaids?” Ashley asks.
“Who is your maid or matron of honor,” Jane, my older sister asks.
“She’ll pick me,” Millie says with a grin. “I’ve always been her favorite sister.”
“I think she should pick me,” Jane replies. “After all, I’m the oldest.”
Before I could respond, a deep voice spoke from behind me.
“I think she should pick me.”
The entire table turns, mouths agape at the man possessing the voice. I don’t need to turn. I’d know that voice anywhere, as well as the firm lips that land on my cheek at the same moment a strong hand lands on my shoulder. “After all, I’m her best friend.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Congratulations, Sami.”
Nearly spilling my glass of wine, I set it on the table and stand in time to be met with a broad hard chest. I wrap my arms around Marshal’s waist and lay my head against that solid torso. When I look up, I blink as his blue eyes shimmer in the bar’s illumination. “Why are you here?”
“Because I got a text telling me that my best friend is engaged.”
“I texted you yesterday, and you didn’t reply.”
“So, I’m a shitty best friend.”
“No, you’re not.” I say, my words slurring just a bit.
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