The Best Man

by Dianne Blacklock

  ‘It’s okay, I get it.’ They joined the queue at the bar.

  ‘You see, I didn’t know what you wanted to tell him . . .’ She hesitated. ‘I didn’t even say I was going out tonight.’

  Aiden nodded. ‘Well, he won’t hear it from me.’

  ‘I don’t want to keep lying to him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Maddie, I get it, and Henry probably wouldn’t. So it’ll be our little secret.’

  She looked dismayed. ‘Did you have to use that expression?’

  ‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he said, slinging an arm over her shoulders. ‘You just want to have a bit of fun tonight, and, as we’ve established, it might be your last chance. And what Henry doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

  Which was exactly what she’d thought too. The very same words, which was kind of unsettling.

  As they moved further in the queue, Madeleine looked up at Aiden. ‘About this game. You haven’t spent time with Henry in years, there’s probably a lot you don’t know about him.’

  ‘“Give me a child until he’s seven and I will give you the man,”’ he quoted.

  ‘But you didn’t know him when he was seven.’

  ‘Seven, seventeen, not much difference,’ said Aiden. ‘And Henry was set in his ways even then. I don’t think much has changed.’

  He was right. As Aiden had pointed out before, Henry was living the same life here as he had in the States. He was set in his ways . . . even in the bedroom.

  Aiden was watching her. ‘What, don’t you trust me?’

  She stirred. ‘No, no, it’s not that.’

  ‘Because I’m an honourable guy, you know.’

  She smiled. ‘I know you are.’

  When they got to the bar, Aiden ordered a bottle of tequila.

  ‘Seriously?’ Madeleine grimaced.

  ‘Would you prefer something else? You’re welcome to choose your own poison.’

  ‘Well, it’s just a bit messy, isn’t it? Don’t you need lemon and salt?’

  ‘If you’re a girl,’ he said sardonically.

  She wouldn’t point out the obvious.

  ‘And a shot glass,’ Aiden said to the barman when he placed the bottle on the bar.

  ‘Only one?’ Madeleine asked.

  ‘You’re the only one being put to the test,’ he said.

  Great.

  ‘We’re going to start with some easy questions, like they do on lie detector tests,’ said Sarah, with an air of authority.

  ‘They do that to establish a baseline for your blood pressure and heart rate,’ said Madeleine.

  ‘Whatever.’ Sarah waved the remark away. ‘I’ll go first.’ She cleared her throat importantly. ‘What’s Henry’s favourite colour?’

  Madeleine frowned.

  ‘You’re kidding? You don’t know?’

  ‘No, I just don’t know that he has a favourite colour. I mean, he loves colour, he works with colour, he’s an artist . . . But I couldn’t tell you his favourite.’

  ‘Wow, you’re bombing out on the easiest question!’ Natalie declared.

  ‘Shot!’ Ren called, grabbing the bottle.

  ‘Hold on,’ said Aiden. ‘You’re supposed to check with me first. And Maddie’s right, I don’t think Henry would have a favourite colour.’

  Madeleine was relieved. He was being honourable.

  ‘Okay, what’s his favourite food?’ asked Ren.

  She was thinking . . . thinking . . . but nothing came. She’d drawn a total blank.

  ‘She’s got nothing,’ Ren cried. ‘Shot!’

  ‘Really, he’s just not fussy,’ Madeleine tried to explain. ‘He’ll eat anything.’ She paused. ‘Oh, will this do? Anything except strawberries. He has an allergy.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Aiden. ‘He tried one at a party at our place once, and his lips all swelled up till he looked like a duck, poor guy. Though it was pretty funny.’

  ‘We’re asking the wrong questions,’ Ren grumbled.

  ‘What about his favourite film?’ said Katie.

  ‘He’s not really into movies.’

  ‘Summer or winter?’ Sarah tried.

  ‘I don’t think he has a preference.’

  ‘Dog or cat?’ asked Liv.

  ‘Well, we don’t have a pet, and he didn’t have one growing up, so . . .’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Aiden. ‘Henry never had a pet.’

  ‘He never had a pet?’ said Ren. ‘That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?’

  Madeleine bristled. ‘Not necessarily.’ Though she had often thought it was sad that his parents hadn’t bought their only child a dog, for some company if nothing else. Because of that, Henry didn’t really have an affinity for animals now. It wasn’t his fault.

  ‘How about . . .’ Katie paused. ‘Chocolate or vanilla?’

  ‘He’s not keen on chocolate,’ said Madeleine. ‘So I’d have to say vanilla. But he doesn’t eat ice-cream anyway.’

  ‘White or red?’

  ‘He isn’t much of a drinker, he’ll have a glass of whatever’s opened with dinner.’

  ‘Oh, for crying out loud.’ Ren finally broke. ‘We need a more interesting groom!’

  Madeleine felt defensive on poor Henry’s behalf. ‘He is interesting,’ she said. ‘He’s just easygoing. Isn’t that right, Aiden?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, giving her hand a squeeze. ‘But easygoing makes for a dull game, I’m afraid.’

  ‘We need more drinks,’ said Ren. The two champagne bottles were empty and upturned in their ice buckets.

  ‘Oh, let me –’

  ‘No way, Aiden,’ said Ren, ‘not this time. Our shout.’ They took orders and Sarah and Ren went off to the bar.

  ‘We need to bring this bachelorette party to life,’ said Liv.

  ‘We could try some hypotheticals,’ Aiden suggested. ‘They do that in these kinds of games, don’t they?’

  ‘What do you mean by hypotheticals?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘If Henry was faced with a moral or ethical dilemma,’ Liv explained, ‘how would he handle it?’

  ‘So how do we test that?’

  ‘It’ll still be up to Aiden,’ said Liv.

  ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it,’ he said.

  When the others returned from the bar, they went into a huddle to devise some scenarios, and then began to put them to Madeleine. If Henry was given too much change in a shop, and he realised, would he return it? Madeleine said that of course he would, and Aiden had to agree; they could both give examples of when Henry had done just that.

  After a couple more scenarios treading similar ground – cheating on tax and petty theft generally – the situations became more complicated, and more morally ambiguous.

  ‘What if you were sick,’ Ren proposed. ‘Like, really sick, you were going to die. And there was this medicine that could cure you, but you couldn’t afford it. Would Henry steal it, or steal the money to pay for it, to save your life?’

  ‘We have Medicare in this country,’ said Madeleine. ‘That could never happen.’

  Ren groaned. ‘Okay then, let’s say you’ve gone to live in the US with Henry. It could happen there, right?’ she asked Aiden.

  ‘Yes, unfortunately.’

  Madeleine was frowning. ‘Still, it would have to be a ridiculous sum of money for Henry not to be able to afford it. I’m not saying he’s ridiculously wealthy, but there would be a way that we could pay for it.’

  ‘No, there wouldn’t!’ Ren was getting frustrated. ‘We’re talking hypothetically, remember?’

  ‘Fine,’ Madeleine said. ‘So it’s millions of dollars. How would Henry go about stealing that amount of money? How would anyone who wasn’t a professional criminal?’

  ‘He hires someone, okay?’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Do you understand what hypothetical means?’ Ren said loudly.

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Madeleine. ‘So I’m going to die if I don’t get this medicine . . . and Henry has some way
of stealing it . . . Okay, I think he would steal it, and then, once he knew I was all right, he would turn himself in.’

  ‘Really, even if he’d got away with it?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I have to agree,’ said Aiden. ‘That’s the kind of guy he is.’

  Although there followed a collective groan, Madeleine didn’t care. Henry wasn’t uninteresting, he was just a very decent man.

  ‘This isn’t working,’ Aiden said. ‘We’re never going to get you drunk at this rate.’

  ‘I didn’t think that was the object of the game,’ said Madeleine.

  ‘Of course it is,’ he grinned. ‘What if I quiz you on how much you know about Henry’s past?’

  ‘You told me Henry doesn’t have a past,’ she returned.

  ‘Oh, he has a past all right.’

  Madeleine raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you still going to be honourable?’

  ‘Depends on how you define honourable.’

  ‘Aiden!’

  ‘I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me, God,’ he declared with a hand on his heart, and the whole other side of the table visibly swooned, starstruck.

  ‘All right,’ said Madeleine, ‘do your worst.’

  Aiden thought for a moment. ‘Okay, easy one first. Where did Henry grow up?’

  ‘Oh, that’s way too easy!’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m just working my way up,’ he assured her.

  ‘We’ve been working our way up all night!’

  ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘Maddie, what’s your answer?’

  ‘Columbus, Ohio.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Whoopee,’ Ren said glumly.

  ‘Next question,’ said Aiden, ignoring her. ‘What was Henry’s major at college?’

  ‘Well, he did a Liberal Arts degree . . .’

  ‘Yeah, but what was his major?’

  She pressed her lips together, thinking. Damn. She should know this. They’d had conversations about the differences between the university system here and in the US, where undergraduate degrees were often more general, unless you were doing pre-law or pre-med. Henry had started off taking classes for pre-law but then realised he didn’t like it. He had dabbled in literature, they’d talked about that . . .

  ‘Tick, tick, tick,’ said Aiden.

  She looked up at him. ‘I don’t know,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘What was that?’

  Madeleine cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Bam!’ Ren cried, picking up the bottle of tequila to pour her a shot.

  ‘So what was his major?’ Madeleine asked Aiden, as Ren passed her the shot glass.

  ‘Women’s studies,’ said Aiden.

  There was a ripple of barely suppressed chuckles around the table, which Madeleine chose to ignore. ‘Are you sure?’

  Aiden nodded. ‘After his sophomore year he realised he’d taken a class in just about everything. When he started to focus on getting published, he wanted to take the fastest route to graduation, which turned out to be via women’s studies.’

  ‘Why has he never told me that?’

  ‘Why do you think?’ Ren snorted. ‘Now, shot!’

  Madeleine took a deep breath, then drank the tequila. It took her two attempts. There was a slight burning sensation as it went down, before the warmth radiated out into her chest. Not too bad.

  ‘All right,’ said Aiden, clapping his hands together. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’

  She was beginning to wonder if his motives really were honourable.

  ‘What was the name of the first girl Henry kissed?’

  That caught her by surprise. Henry wasn’t what anyone would call a Lothario . . . But she was being silly. He was already in his thirties when they met, as if he hadn’t kissed a girl. But whoever was first couldn’t have been all that memorable – he’d never mentioned her, Madeleine was sure of that at least.

  ‘Pour me another,’ she said to Ren, surrendering. She got a round of applause for knocking it back in one go.

  ‘Who did he take to his high school prom?’ Aiden asked next.

  ‘Was she also his first kiss?’

  ‘Maybe . . . but how does that help? You didn’t know who that was either.’

  Madeleine picked up the glass Ren had already refilled. Her head was starting to feel a little woozy. She needed a moment. ‘So what was her name?’ she asked Aiden, stalling.

  He shrugged. ‘Becky, Betsy . . . something like that. I can’t remember.’

  ‘So you don’t even know!’

  ‘I just can’t remember her name. I know his prom date was the first girl he kissed. Which is more than you knew.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s only fair that you take a shot.’

  ‘Gladly,’ said Aiden. ‘After you.’

  Madeleine sighed. Fine. She took a breath and sculled the shot. ‘Refill, thanks, Ren.’

  Aiden picked up the glass and threw it back before slamming it down on the table. ‘Fill it up, bartender, she’ll be needing another one before long,’ he drawled.

  ‘As long as you ask questions that you actually know the answer to,’ Madeleine said.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Aiden met her eyes directly. ‘Who was Henry’s first love?’

  Madeleine blanched. Had there been a first love? A real first love? ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Uh-huh! Shot!’

  She tossed back the shot to get it out of the way. Besides, she was beginning to enjoy the tequila’s anaesthetising effect.

  ‘Next question –’

  ‘No, wait,’ said Madeleine. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me who his first love was?’

  ‘Not if Henry hasn’t told you himself.’

  ‘You said you’d only ask questions that you knew the answer to.’

  ‘I do know the answer, but I don’t think it’s my place if Henry hasn’t told you.’

  ‘It’s just never come up,’ she said. ‘It’s not like he wouldn’t tell me.’

  ‘Then ask him,’ Aiden said simply. ‘Moving on, who was the first girl who broke his heart?’

  Henry had had his heart broken? So there was a real first love? Perhaps there’d been more than one. Perhaps there’d been many. Madeleine had no idea. He’d never confided in her.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she muttered, picking up the shot glass and gulping it down. Then she grabbed her champagne flute and drank some of that too. It was flat by now, and a little warm, but she didn’t care.

  Aiden was watching her. ‘Who was the first girl he moved countries for?’ he said gently.

  She looked wide-eyed at him. ‘There was someone else?’

  ‘No, no . . .’ He brought his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. ‘Silly.’

  ‘Oh. Then that’s me.’

  She went to pick up the shot glass but Liv grabbed her wrist. ‘Wait,’ she said, ‘you were right that time. You don’t have to take a shot.’

  ‘Maybe I just want to,’ Madeleine retorted. She didn’t like the look Liv was giving her.

  ‘Take it easy, Mad.’

  ‘Fine,’ Madeleine said, putting the shot glass down again.

  ‘How about we have an open round,’ Aiden announced to the table.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘A free-for-all,’ he said. ‘Anyone can ask a question.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’ said Katie.

  ‘Anything you like,’ Madeleine said, draining her glass of warm, flat champagne. Hopefully Liv wouldn’t have a problem with that.

  ‘Let’s make it general,’ Aiden suggested. ‘You know, funny questions about being a guy, whatever.’

  ‘I know,’ said Liv. ‘What’s Henry’s most annoying habit? There has to be something, all men have at least one.’

  ‘That’s very sexist,’ said Aiden. ‘Not all men have annoying habits. I, for one, have no annoying habits at all.’

  They actually all laughed at th
at. Big proper belly laughs. At least they had stopped being impossibly besotted with him.

  ‘Okay, spill, missy,’ Liv prompted Madeleine. ‘Henry’s most annoying habit.’

  ‘I guess . . . well, he cracks his knuckles. I can’t stand it.’

  They all started talking at once. ‘I hate that.’ ‘Eew!’ ‘Why do guys do that?’ ‘What is wrong with you?’

  ‘Why are you asking me?’ Aiden objected.

  ‘You don’t crack your knuckles?’

  ‘You mean like this?’ he said, clasping his hands together and stretching his arms out in front of him, before quickly inverting his hands and releasing the most spine-curdling crunching sound, setting them off all over again.

  ‘You should have to take a shot for doing that,’ said Katie, still cringing.

  ‘Or be shot,’ Liv added.

  ‘No,’ said Madeleine, grabbing the glass first. ‘I need one after that.’

  The game morphed into a version of truth or dare. Not that there were any dares, per se, just increasingly personal questions, and Madeleine hit back every one like she was an ace tennis player in front of one of those ball machines. She didn’t so much as flinch.

  ‘Does he put the seat down?’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘Boxers or briefs?’

  ‘Boxers!’ she declared. ‘Baggy cotton ones. I hate them, but he refuses to wear anything else.’

  ‘Does he snore?’

  ‘On occasion, but then so do I sometimes, so I can’t complain.’

  ‘Favourite sexual position?’

  Madeleine paused. ‘What do you bloody well think? Missionary, of course!’ She threw her head back so far laughing that she would have tipped backwards off the stool if Aiden hadn’t grabbed her in time.

  ‘Whoa!’ he said, righting her and the stool. ‘Careful . . .’

  Madeleine leant her head against his shoulder and clung to him as she waited for her brain to stop swishing around. She could smell Aiden through his shirt, and a flush crept up her chest and across her face. Someone had asked before if she’d seen him without a shirt on, and she had, at the beach. All three of them were together, so Madeleine couldn’t exactly stare, but she had managed to steal the odd furtive glance. And no surprise, Aiden did look amazing without a shirt; he was broad-shouldered, with tight abs, and he had a very nice chest. Madeleine smoothed her hand across it now. This was her bachelorette party, her last night of freedom . . .