by J. J. McAvoy
She looks so silly right now. Jeez. Anyone who saw her would think she had won the lottery or something. Lifting my finger, I pointed at her to look back where she was supposed to be looking.
She made a quick face before looking back.
Guinevere
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I said, all but running up to him now that I'd finally managed to rip my face from the photo session as everyone entered the reception hall.
“Why?” he asked casually as the woman in front of the seating chart table handed him a place card with a key dangling from one of the edges.
“You know why. I know you didn’t come for me, but I’m glad someone else is as—”
“Miserable?” He smirked.
“Not miserable, just…” I wasn’t sure how to put it into words, really. I didn’t want him to hate it there, but—
“I understand, Guinevere. Don’t think so hard, you'll pop a vein.”
“You know I’ve always wondered, is that really possible?”
He shook his head, searching for his table.
Shifting my head to the side, I looked him up and down. He wore a black bowtie with a classic-fitted black tuxedo that had a nice sleek lining. “You look nice.”
He stopped, looking back at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. So do you. You put in a lot of effort, it—”
“Hey, I can doll up like the best of them. Tonight, I won’t even drool.”
He snickered.
I walked with him.
“Where are you sitting, at the head table?”
“No, the head table is Nathaniel and Stevie, plus both their parents on either side. I’m at table—” I stopped when I saw my name card on the table next to Logan’s. “Well, it’s here. She must have put me here after I told her I knew you all, since I know no one else.”
“Gwen, are you sitting with us?” Logan spoke up, his mother on his arm and a cocktail in his hand. He was dressed up just like his brother, bow tie and everything.
I had to admit, they were quite a pair. “Good evening, Dr. Davenport, and it’s nice to see you again, Logan. Yes, apparently I am sitting with you all, if that's all right?”
“Of course, and you look absolutely stunning, my dear.” She pulled me into a small hug.
“Stunning? Gwen, you're smokin’.” Logan grinned, hugging me as well with one arm.
“You're not bad yourself.” I laughed when he came around and pulled out my chair as Eli pulled out his mother's. “What gentlemen.”
“I know, it makes me so proud. If only they could always be like this.”
And, like sons, they both groaned under her gaze.
It was funny to watch the three of them.
“How long have you known Stephanie, Gwen?” Logan questioned.
“Since I was six. We met when—well, you'll hear all about that. I’m doing part of their toast, so I’ll save our story until then. Hopefully I don’t panic.”
“Why would you panic?” Eli asked.
I met his eyes across the candlelit table covered in rose petals. “I get nervous when I talk to big groups of people.”
“You did fine when we were at the university.”
“The university?” his mother asked, looking between us.
I nodded. “We basically fought over which is the better career path: art or the sciences. I won.” I grinned.
He scoffed. “If anything, it was a tie, but that is only because you brought up the 'you need me and I need you' argument. I’m pretty sure I got at least a few of them to see reason and come over to my side. Remember how kinda cool I am?”
I clapped slowly for him. “I tell you that you are a decent doctor one time and—”
“It sounded more like amazing to my ears.” He drank his water.
“And it goes to your big, egotistical head. Sorry, Mrs. Davenport,” I said to her. After all, the fathead was her son.
“No.” She smiled, looking between the two of us. “It actually reminds me of when I met his father. The man could praise himself. 'Meryl, you should have seen me today, I’m telling you there is no better doctor than me in this state. Meryl, did you see how fast I laid that stitch?' Oh, gosh. I didn’t call him egotistical, I called him Dr. Brainiac.”
I thought about it for a second. “Isn’t that a super-villain in the DC comics?”
“That’s why it annoyed him so much.” She giggled.
So did I. I didn’t know why it was that funny, but just seeing her laugh so happily at her memories felt nice. Wasn’t that what was normally supposed to happen at weddings?
“What did he call you back?” Eli asked softly, watching her as he drank his scotch.
Leaning over, she put her hand on his arm. “You know, I never found out. I’m sure he called me something in his head, but no matter what, when he was cross he would just say Meryl, like I exhausted him and he couldn’t even put up any more of a fight.”
“My father just makes faces.” I ran my hand over the rim of my water glass. “My mother would get upset about something he either forgot to do, or something he totally messed up, and he would just sit in his chair and watch her as she tried to fix it, which made my mom angrier, and then he would look to me and start making faces. He could even guess what her next words were. When I was a teenager, I would wonder, 'Why is he just sitting there? Mom's gonna lose it.’ Then I realized he just knew her too well. My mother likes things to be done a particular way. The best help he can offer is to keep his hands off and wait until she actually gives him directions.”
“Where are your parents now?” Mrs. Davenport questioned.
“Cypress, Alaska,” Eli said in a strange voice.
“Is that a real place?” Logan asked beside me.
“It’s the home of the best wild salmon in the country,” Eli and I said at the same time, though he was a lot less serious than I was. I could only give him a look from across the table.
He shrugged.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Van Allan,” the announcer said, and we all stood, clapping.
I clapped as loudly as possible, not caring who saw me.
Logan joined in, raising his glass.
Eli
After everyone settled down and the champagne was brought out, Guinevere walked to the front of the ballroom. The lighting changed slightly, focusing on her. She didn’t look nervous at all to me, but maybe she had just gotten used to covering it up. She moved to the side, and an old picture was projected onto the wall, showing two little girls dressed in jean jumpers, their hair in pigtails and their arms around each other. Little Guinevere made a peace sign as young Stephanie appeared to be squeezing the life out of her.
“The day I met then Stephanie Murray was the first day of kindergarten. The first grade boys had decided to mess with us, and I, being the rebel I always was, was not going to have that. No one backed me up.”
Stephanie and her parents groaned together, trying not to laugh, when all of a sudden the picture changed to one of them sitting on two boys and high-fiving each other.
Oddly, she took a long pause as if considering something before blinking and turning back to Stephanie. “No one but Stephanie. Safe to say, no matter what happened in my life, when I turned back, she was always there. She was there when, at fourteen, we decided to hitchhike cross-country, but only made it as far as the bus station before panicking and running back home. She was there when, at sixteen, we thought dyeing our hair white would make us look more mature. And she was there every step of the way, encouraging me to follow my dreams. So when I first met Nathaniel, I was a little jealous. I kept wondering: who is this boy, trying to take away my best friend? It took me a while, but I saw it, the way she smiled so wide it looked like her face would break. How he was always so willing to jump into whatever she was doing…with slightly more logic than we had together. How he made her world ten times bigger, and it made me so thankful.” She tried not to cry. �
��Because my best friend was with the best person for her, and she was going to get to laugh and smile like that for the rest of her life, the way she deserved to. You're one lucky guy, Nathaniel, and thank you. Please never stop what you're doing.”
When she was done, she took a deep breath, handing the microphone back as Stephanie came over to give her a tight hug.
“Do you like her?” my mother asked.
Her question forced my eyes back to her. “No.”
“Yes,” Logan answered. “If you don’t, why does it bother you so much when I say you do? If you didn’t like someone, you wouldn’t even think about it. It’s because you like her and would rather not admit it that you get angry.”
“We just met each other—”
“I knew your father for two weeks before we dated. Four when he told me he loved me,” my mother added, giving me a look before she drank her water.
“For the last time, we are just friends.”
“Okay.” Logan raised his hands. “Keep staring at your just friend like she’s the only woman in the room. I’m sorry.”
When she came back to our table, she took the empty seat by me, not Logan.
I hated how she now smelled like roses because of all the damn flowers. She always smelled like fresh rain… What am I thinking?
“Your speech was beautiful, dear,” my mother said to her.
“Thank you.” She smiled, but it wasn’t real.
“What is it?” Something was bugging her, I could tell.
She leaned over, putting her hand on my arm. “Whatever you do, don’t look back. Hannah and Sebastian are sitting two tables over.”
My first instinct was to turn, but she squeezed.
“Don’t look. I was just going to leave, but I didn’t want you to not know. Seeing them together will just make us upset, and with the alcohol we will make a scene. Please, not tonight.”
Grabbing the water, I nodded. Attending had been a bad idea, I’d known it all along.
“Have you taken all your photos, Gwen?” my mother asked, leaning toward us.
She nodded.
“Then Eli, take her home. I will tell them you weren’t feeling well. It’s all right to not be here.”
“I’m fine, thank you. I did nothing wrong. Why should I run away? Today has nothing to do with either of them, that’s old news. I wish them the best.” Gwen watched as Nathaniel’s best man did his speech.
“Oh, thank you, but I didn’t ask for this,” she said when a waiter came over with a plate of steak.
“I did, for you. You didn’t like the fish, right?” She hadn’t eaten anything but bread and the broccoli off her plate while sitting with us. I figured she didn’t want to tell them to take it back and get something else.
She looked at me.
“What, don’t you like meat?”
“No, I do. Thank you, I was starving,” she replied before cutting into her food.
Even though I’d heard her tell me not to, I couldn’t help but tilt my head to the side slightly, scanning the room for them.
“Don’t, Eli,” she said, not even looking up before taking a bite.
How did she know?
Whatever. Sighing, I sat straighter. I hated weddings. They brought up both old and new awkward situations to fall into…like now, when everyone was getting onto the dance floor at the end of the speeches.
“Mother, would you like to dance?” Logan extended his arm, stealing my idea before I could act. He gave me a wink, and of course our mother accepted.
“Yep, this is going to be my last wedding for a while,” Guinevere whispered.
“The only other one I plan to attend is my brother’s.” I glanced to them on the dance floor. “And that might take a while.”
She snickered. “I don’t know, your brother would be a catch.”
“For whom?”
“Oh, come on. He’s young, attractive—”
“Are you asking me to set you up with my brother?”
“God, no. He’s like my little brother; I’m just saying he has charm. Just wait, some girl is going to have him falling hard, faster than you can blink. That’s how love works.”
“You still believe in all that love stuff?” I'd hoped she would be more cynical toward the whole thing. Like I am.
She pointed to Nathaniel and Stephanie on the dance floor. “Of course. I was unlucky. People are sometimes unlucky in love, but I'd rather be unlucky a dozen more times than close myself off and never have the chance to have that with someone.”
“I blame your books,” I replied.
She grinned. “I know, a woman who reads. Gosh. Ha, but, if you want to borrow any—”
“No, thank you.”
“Shame. I find guys who read sexy.”
“So you're saying you want me to fit your idea of sexy?”
She froze and looked directly at me. “That came out wrong.”
“You sure sounded pretty clear to me. What book would you start me off with?”
“You want me to see you as sexy?” She looked confused.
“If everyone woman within my presence does not find me worth drooling over, I’ve failed as a man.”
She pretended to gag.
“Cute,” I replied.
She just drank, looking back at the crowd on the dance floor.
“Please don’t tell me you want to dance.”
“I don’t,” she lied.
Sighing, I stood up, taking her hand.
“No, seriously, I don’t—”
I spun her toward me. “When will you realize I can tell when you’re lying to me? You have to dance at least once at a wedding. Do you know how waltz?” I asked her when the music changed.
“Don’t underestimate me, Dr. Davenport. I took ballroom dancing 101 and 102 in college, and I passed with an A+.”
“I’m so intimidated right now,” I mocked. “Just keep up.”
“Do your worst,” she said, and immediately lifted my arm into the right place.
She always had to challenge me. We started off slowly, her feet following my lead as we moved first right to left, then left back to right.
“How am I doing?” She smirked at me.
“This is basic,” I replied, speeding my footwork with the music.
She never lost her footing or even stepped on my toes, she just followed perfectly. Spinning her out, her dress came up slightly before she came back in. “Still basic?”
Again we sped our moves, and it was like the music was following along with us as we kept going, spinning around the floor. I did notice she was a lot closer to me than she generally should have been, but neither of us was focused on that. I watched her, trying to see if she at any point couldn’t keep up, but her big brown eyes stayed focused on me, a small grin on her lips. She kept up with me in every way, even when I tilted her back unexpectedly. Her face was so close I almost lost my concentration.
She looks beautiful. Dear God, what am I thinking?
Finally, when the music slowly came to a stop, we did as well…to a welling round of applause.
Both of us glanced around to see the whole floor had been cleared, and now everyone stood on the outside, even Nathaniel and Stephanie.
“How do we escape?” she whispered, nodding to them.
“Just keep walking,” I replied, helping her off the dance floor.
We didn’t go back to the table, instead ending up walking until we were out the double doors and in the main hall of the hotel. Holding on to me, she stepped out of her shoes.
“Oh, thank God.” She sighed happily. “I have flats back in the dressing rooms. I’ll be right back.”
Why did I care? “I won’t be waiting.”
“Whatever,” she said, holding her dress up as she ran.
When I was alone, I took a deep breath. What was this? Why did I feel like this?
“You looked happy.”
I froze at her voice. I knew this day was going to come, but why now? “Hello, Hannah.”<
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I turned to the woman wearing the light pink gown. “You look nice.”
“Wow. Even now, you’re always the gentleman.” She smiled sadly. “And here I thought you were avoiding me.”
“No, sorry, I just don’t have anything to say to you. You should head back in. Your boyfriend, fiancé, or whatever, might get the wrong idea.”
“We aren’t together. We just came for appearance's sake,” she said as I was about to turn. “He still loves her, and I—”
“He still loves her?” Who gives a damn if he still loves her? He can’t have her… What am I thinking right now?
“Eli, Eli please hear me out. I—I think I made a mistake. No, I know I made a mistake.”
She made a mistake? Is she kidding me right now? There were a million things I’d figured she could say to me, just to spite me—that he was the better lover, the better man—and I would have preferred any of them to that reply.
“Your mistakes aren’t any of my business, Hannah.” I turned from her.
She held back my arm. “Eli, wait—”
“Is everything okay?” Gwen asked, coming close but keeping her eyes on Hannah.
Guinevere
My feet didn’t really hurt that badly, I just needed a moment away from Eli. He had been so close to me, closer than I had been to any man in what felt like forever. That, and the way his eyes stayed trained on me like I was the only person in the world…it was hard to even hear the music with how quickly my heart was beating against my chest. For some reason, I trusted him; even when he said he wouldn't wait, I knew he would still be there when I got back. I just wasn’t expecting her to be holding on to him, and for some reason the sight bothered me to no end. “Is everything okay?” I asked when I reached them.
Eli pulled her hand off him. “It’s fine. Did you get the shoes?”
“Yes. I’m just still trying to figure out why you are standing here.” I pointed to Hannah.
She sighed. “I know what I did to you, the both of you, was wrong. I’m so sorry—”