Be My Best Man

by Con Riley

  “He got some extra hours at work. Someone called in sick.” She shrugs and is realistic. “It’s more money for us.” Then she looks over her shoulder and shudders.

  “Did someone give you trouble?”

  “No more than usual,” she says, her smile bleak as Jason greets her.

  Vanya glares at the train as it leaves, wondering what happened. At least the car is filled with conversation when they drive back, Jason so focused on Anna he doesn’t notice Vanya’s quietness.

  “So, you’ve been busy?”

  “Yes, very.” She holds up fingers that are red tipped. “Finished sewing last night. Would have been faster with a bright light—”

  Vanya interrupts when she comes close to admitting that where they live has no power. “Chantel will be happy.” He’s pleased to see another car outside the cottage when they get back, glad of yet more distraction when stress leaves him so queasy.

  Jason muses aloud, “I thought Chantel said she was only having the kids over for an hour this morning to give Lady time to recover.” His brow furrows. “Maybe it’s her father,” a thought that’s confirmed when the front door flies open. Andrew follows the hasty departure of an older man whose face is tight with fury. When Jason pulls up, none of them can avoid overhearing his shouts.

  “No, I don’t want to see the foal. I want to see my daughter back at home with all of this nonsense over.” The older man’s so angry that his voice shakes. “When she called, I thought she’d come to her senses. I’ll send a horsebox over tomorrow. Make sure the mare and foal are in it when it comes back to my yard.” He spits, “Shut up,” when Andrew tries to speak, his disdain as clear as Andrew’s blank shock. “I’m done listening to someone like you who doesn’t want the best for my daughter.” He gets into his car and slams the door shut.

  “Go inside,” Jason urges, passing the bags Anna’s brought with her to Vanya. “Take Andrew with you.” Then he gets back in the car and moves it a few more feet until he blocks in Chantel’s father.

  “What—?” Andrew starts when Jason switches off the engine and gets out.

  “Go inside,” Jason says, firm and cool and so sure despite Chantel’s father throwing his car door open and shouting. There’s nothing to suggest getting sworn at bothers him. He’s calm in the face of yelling and immovable despite this man’s temper. Instead of reacting, he simply takes it, bending but never breaking no matter how strong this storm blows. And like all storms, it eventually blows over.

  “For the last time, move that car. You can’t make me stay here,” Vanya hears as he ushers Anna and Andrew inside.

  “No.”

  “Don’t waste your time thinking you can keep me here long enough to convince me that this marriage will work out.”

  “Okay,” Jason nods clearly enough that Vanya can see it from where he stands, front door ajar, ready to come out and… do what?

  Defend Jason?

  He would, he knows.

  He would without thinking twice, if he needed.

  Lack of courage was never his problem, force of numbers the only reason he was left for dead the last time he faced confrontation. He’ll help without hesitation, if that’s what Jason needs from him.

  But this man is old and worried.

  That comes across loud and clear when his voice wavers. “She’s setting herself up for so much unhappiness.”

  Jason nods again and then holds out his hand, offering a handshake. “We haven’t met. I’m Jason Balfour, the best man.” He clasps Chantel’s father’s hand in both of his. “I was against this wedding too. I was so against it that I almost lost my brother. I’ve already seen him through two marriages that were complete disasters. So when he proposed to Chantel, I was so sure he’d made another wrong choice that I gave him an ultimatum.”

  “What was it?” Chantel’s father doesn’t withdraw his hand. If anything, he holds Jason’s tighter.

  “I made him choose between us.” Jason laughs quietly in hindsight. “I made him choose, and he did.” He releases his grip on her dad’s hand only to grasp his elbow when he seems unsteady. “I’ve known Andrew for over thirty-five years. He chose your daughter over me with no hesitation.”

  “It’s not right.” Her father’s voice comes out quieter.

  “People might think the same about me and my partner.” Jason pauses when the older man steadies himself against his car. Once he’s settled, he continues. “Even this morning, someone tried to make me think he was taking advantage of me. He’s Russian,” he admits, like confessing his partner is male is no big deal at all. That still blows Vanya away so much he almost misses the next sentence.

  “Someone intimated he might not be legal, but he’s been here for almost a year. I work with foreign contractors daily, and it’s almost impossible for them to work here long-term without the right papers. Besides, who the hell can afford to live in London with zero income?”

  That’s all so far from the truth, it’s not even funny.

  Vanya rests a burning cheek against the cool glass pane of the front door.

  There’s no way back from this level of misconception.

  No way to explain that won’t lead to rejection.

  Nausea grips him but he can’t let go of the door handle, not even when he hears Chantel crying softly. It doesn’t matter that Andrew stands only a foot from him listening as well. He can’t make himself look in his direction when guilt smears his face so hotly.

  Outside, Jason’s voice easily carries. “My boyfriend isn’t taking advantage of me. I’d know it,” he promises. “He’s not, and that’s what I learned about Chantel too, because I thought she must be money-grabbing when I first heard about her.”

  Chantel’s father blusters, but Jason’s having none of it. “Listen, I know she’s your daughter, but you’ve also got to know that first impressions work two ways, don’t you? Tell me, what do you think motivates a young woman to marry a successful city professional in his mid-forties? Wouldn’t you think him having his own place in town as well as a house in the country had something to do with her decision?”

  Chantel’s father says nothing. Vanya opens the door a few more inches to see the old man nod very slowly.

  “But,” Jason admits, “I was wrong. So wrong. She’s no closer to taking advantage of Andrew than Vanya is of doing the same thing to me. Jesus, I can hardly get him to borrow a raincoat when it’s pissing down, let alone give him money. I met him through a work arrangement, but he won’t take a penny from me now that’s over, and he’s always buying gifts for me. Little things that matter. Just yesterday, he bought me something amazing from an antique shop.”

  That’s one interpretation of the junk shop Vanya had killed time in. He wishes fiercely in that moment that he had real cash to burn on presents. He’d spend every last penny on making this man happy.

  “My daughter doesn’t need anybody’s money.”

  “But that’s exactly what I was worried about for Andrew. I didn’t know her, but I judged her.”

  Vanya watches as Jason raises a hand to the back of his neck, his body language saying I fucked up just as clearly as his words. “I can’t lie about that. There’s no point. I did judge her, but that was before I knew her. She’s….” He raises his head. “She makes him happy.” He holds her father’s gaze. “Andrew loves her. He’s learned what works in a marriage, and Chantel suits him. I can see it because it’s how I feel about my boyfriend. How long we’ve known each other doesn’t matter when we fit so well together. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give him, but like Chantel, he doesn’t take, he just keeps giving. I wish that you could see how lucky we both feel.”

  “You really are a best man, aren’t you?” Chantel’s father extends his hand like they haven’t already shaken. “I don’t think I introduced myself,” he says. “I’m Keith.” His voice is as shaky as Vanya feels in this moment when Chantel’s dad clears his throat and repeats, “Keith Latham. Father of the bride.”

  Vanya closes the d
oor the last few inches, Andrew’s grip on his shoulder so tight that he has to turn to face him.

  “Did he call himself the father of the bride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Vanya’s sure all right, just like he’s certain his heart is shattered by the trust Jason’s misplaced in him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As they drive away from the cottage that evening on their way to visit the wedding venue, Jason wishes that Vanya sat beside him. Instead, Anna takes the middle spot on the backseat, leaning forwards often to speak with Chantel about plans for her wedding. It makes it hard to keep Vanya in view.

  He’s strangely quiet—has been all afternoon. Even now, as Chantel describes the country house hotel that will be the wedding venue, he’s disengaged and silent.

  It’s so far away from his version of normal that Jason can’t ignore it. Not when the window Vanya stares through reflects glimpses of unhappiness. It might be dark as they travel down unlit country lanes, but the sky above is as clouded as Vanya’s expression. He’s definitely wrapped up in thought the next time Anna leans forward. He jolts when Jason touches his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Vanya quickly recovers, but his smile is half the size of normal. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing yet,” Jason admits. “I….” His question seem juvenile now that he’s about to voice it. “I wondered what you were thinking.” He hurries to add, “You’ve barely said a word in the last hour. All afternoon, to be honest.” Even when they’d changed for dinner, Vanya had been largely silent, only making direct eye contact for fleeting moments when straightening Jason’s tie before leaving. “What’s up with you?”

  “Up?”

  “What’s on your mind? Is something bothering you?”

  “No,” Vanya couldn’t shake his head much faster. He’s still quiet, but at least he sounds sure. “Nothing is up.” It’s strange to watch Vanya pull himself together. He takes a deep breath as the car enters a sweeping driveway leading to a long, low country house that’s gorgeous. “Oh.” Fairy lights glitter from each tree they pass on their way to the entrance, and garlands grace its substantial doorway. “My sister would think this is prettiest hotel.” His next small smile is wistful.

  That’s got to be it, Jason decides as they make their way in.

  Vanya must be missing his family.

  Jason stands back when they enter a hallway that combines grandeur with rustic charm, watching as Vanya takes it all in. Just like during his first visit to Riversmeet, he’s captivated, eyes widening and unable to resist touching the history that surrounds him. Jason murmurs, “Think this is a good place for the wedding?”

  Vanya doesn’t verbally answer. He only nods quickly again while following the others into a room designed for wedding services. Candles illuminate a perfect spot to exchange vows in front of friends and family. Chantel stands at the foot of an aisle leading to the raised platform where she’ll marry Andrew, her hand flying to her mouth when a voice comes from behind her.

  “We should have a trial run.” Her father’s eyes are fixed on his daughter. “Don’t want your old man to mess up on your big day, do you?” He wets his lips like he’s nervous. “That is, if you still want me to give you away.”

  “Dad.”

  When Chantel runs to him, Jason turns away like the others, giving them a private moment, then his gaze drops to his hand when Vanya’s fingers curl around it. His grip is warm and perfect, as is his tone, which has lost its edge of reserve.

  “I’m think you told him to come.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was good idea. Best.”

  Jason has to agree as their tour turns into an impromptu rehearsal. Chantel smiles from start to finish when her father walks her up to her groom. And if Keith is slow to place her hand in Andrew’s, no one draws attention to it.

  Trust takes time and practice, Jason knows, but it’s worth persevering.

  It’s a good end to a day that’s been very busy. Sharing a meal afterwards in the hotel restaurant, with the closest people Jason has to family, is even sweeter when Vanya slowly relaxes. He only fades out of the conversation a few times, but willingly re-enters whenever asked a direct question.

  “Hold it there for a moment,” Jason says when the meal is over and the others go to retrieve their coats. “I’ve got something to show you.” He ushers Vanya to the staircase. “It’s up here.”

  “But….” Vanya looks over his shoulder as they ascend. “Everyone leaves.”

  “Yes,” Jason says as he encourages Vanya upward. “We’ll see them tomorrow,” he adds as he opens a door at the top of the staircase.

  “Oh.” Vanya’s voice fades as he enters a room where an enormous bed is surrounded by tapestry curtains. “What is this?” he asks.

  “The bed? It’s called a four-poster.” Jason closes the door behind them.

  “No. I’m mean what is this.” Vanya points at their bags, packed without his knowing. He’s quieter still when he asks, “What is this?” again, unsteady, like he’s unsure he wants an answer.

  “I saw this room when Andrew sent me a link to the website a few weeks ago. I thought….” Jason inclines his head at the wooden beams that cross its walls and ceiling. “It’s not the bridal suite, but I thought you might like it, so I booked it. It worked out perfectly, I think. This way, Anna gets to stay over at Riversmeet in our room before shopping with Chantel tomorrow, while we get to have a lie in here before heading back to London.”

  “Have everything planned.”

  “Yes. For you. Do you like it?” It seems crucial at that moment to know what Vanya’s thinking. “I guessed you would. I know everything in Russia is better—”

  “Best,” Vanya faintly corrects him.

  “Okay. I know everything in Russia is best, so this might not seem all that special, but….” He drops a quick kiss to his lips. “It’s the best hotel in the whole county. That’s why Andrew chose it for Chantel.”

  “A statement.” Vanya seems strangely solemn. “Telling her she is important.”

  “Yes.” It really is that simple. “That’s why I booked this room for you.”

  They stand in silence for a minute that Jason hesitates before breaking.

  “Come and see,” he finally says after pushing open another door leading to a bathroom. “I know you have a thing about hot water, so I asked for the biggest bathtub they had.”

  Relief flows when Vanya’s smile returns. “This is for me?” It’s ridiculous that he voices the question, even sillier when he adds, “For all night?”

  “Pretty sure they don’t rent rooms out by the hour.” Water cascades into the tub. “You can soak in here for as long as you want.”

  Vanya’s quiet words are almost drowned out by the gushing water. “I’m don’t deserve.”

  It’s a trick of the light, Jason decides as the mirror starts to steam up.

  There’s no reason on earth for Vanya to look guilty.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Vanya soaks in remorse, neck deep in steaming water as Jason shaves at the bathroom basin. Steam lifts lazily between them, not quite thick enough to mask the sliver he can see of Jason in the mirror. It’s only a fragment of the whole man—his chin, one eye, and both lips pressed tight together—but it’s more than enough to read him.

  He’s worried.

  It’s a glimpse that’s gone after Jason splashes away the last trace of foam. Vanya slowly sinks under the water, wishing it was half as easy to wipe his own slate clean.

  He will.

  He must.

  But not yet, or he’ll spoil this special evening Jason’s arranged, as well as Chantel’s wedding. He waits until Jason slides his razor into his wash bag before quietly speaking. “I’m need to tell something.”

  “To me?” Jason’s open expression is guarded for once, both hands clasping the counter behind him, braced as if for bad news.

  “Yes.” Vanya draws in a deep breath.
“I’m need to tell that this is very best bath. Biggest, deepest, hottest.” His skin attests to that fact, warmly rosy when he sits up.

  “Good!” Relief turns Jason’s smile loose. “That’s exactly why I chose it.” He crouches by the side of the deep tub. “I could probably fit in there with you.” He surveys the bathroom, perhaps appraising its construction. “But I wouldn’t risk it without knowing more about when this place was converted.”

  “Think two men in a bath could fall through ceiling? Would be very expensive hotel stay.”

  “It already is,” Jason absently agrees. “But more importantly, I’m pretty sure this room is above the restaurant. People could still be eating.”

  “Might get messy.” Water kisses the tip of Vanya’s chin when Jason grins, boy-like and so open.

  It’s so easy to make him happy.

  Vanya’s voice comes out softly. “And who could fix big hole in ceiling a week before brother’s wedding?”

  “Not me.” Jason’s exhale ripples the water surface. “I’ll be far too busy.”

  “Going back to York?”

  “I should. If it wasn’t for the kerfuffle over that asbestos, I’d be done there already. Dom’s tearing his hair out about the delay. He’s already got buyers lined up. Plus, I’ve got a massive backlog of office work I’m way behind on.”

  Vanya sits up so fast that the water sloshes. “Like filing? I’m could help with that!”

  Jason’s kiss is fleeting. “I wish.” He dips a hand under the water, sliding his palm from Vanya’s chest to his navel as he sinks back. “But it’s all a bit more complex than filing. Not saying you couldn’t keep up, but I need to submit plans online and chase up surveyors who won’t talk to anyone but the boss.” He follows the line of Vanya’s ribs next, the tip of his finger pausing over what looks like a star-shaped birthmark. By the time it returns to his chest, Vanya’s stopped listening, too focussed on his nipple, which tightens under Jason’s touch regardless of the hot water.