The friends and family who’d shown up early watched him expectantly, making him eager for the people in Riley’s line to come and join him at the front so his audience would have something else to look at. He was starting to perspire and wished he could loosen his tie. Although it was a cold, crisp day outside—the storm that had rolled in on Christmas Day was gone—the heat inside seemed overwhelming. He straightened his shoulders, trying to cope with his discomfort as more people straggled in, chatting excitedly among themselves.
Kyle recognized Riley’s parents, who’d given Phoenix such a hard time when they were in high school. Even the parents of the girl Phoenix had been convicted of murdering had come, along with their living daughter. Only their son, Buddy, wasn’t with them. Kyle guessed he wouldn’t be coming; he’d been too unkind to Phoenix when he’d thought she was guilty.
A lot of people were there. But Kyle noted that Phoenix’s mother wasn’t in the audience. He’d just decided Lizzie must’ve refused to come, when Phoenix’s older brothers, whom Kyle had met an hour earlier, helped her through the door and down the aisle. She was so obese she couldn’t fit in a wheelchair, so she had little choice except to walk. She inched down the aisle on swollen and purple ankles, but she was wearing a dress and her hair had been done. She also had a corsage pinned to her chest.
“I don’t need to sit in front,” she said to the people who were trying to lead her. Riley bent his head closer to hers and must’ve encouraged her to sit in her “place of honor” because she screwed up her mouth, stared down at the rose-petal-strewn walkway in front of her and allowed him and the others to half support, half drag her bulk onto the bench that had been positioned for her on the front row.
“God, it’s hot in here!” She spoke so loudly almost everyone could hear. Then she wiped her upper lip, turned to glare at those who were staring at her and pulled a fan from her purse.
Kyle regretted paying such close attention to her entrance when Lizzie’s rheumy eyes shifted his way—and narrowed.
“What are you looking at?” she snapped.
“Ignore her,” Riley whispered as he came to stand by Kyle. “She’s just self-conscious.”
Phoenix’s oldest brother hurried out, and not too long after, the music sounded. It was starting...
Jacob appeared first and came to stand by Riley. Then the groomsmen walked in with the bridesmaids and finally Phoenix walked in on the arm of her oldest brother.
As she came toward them, gorgeous in a mermaid-style gown, Kyle tried to overcome his nerves. He really didn’t want to screw this up for her. She’d been through so much...
Her brother’s tattoo “shirt” extended well above his collar. He had his ears pierced and his hair bleached and spiked on top—and looked even more ill at ease than Kyle felt. It was obvious that he’d lived a hard life and wasn’t accustomed to wearing a suit. Kyle would’ve bet fifty bucks this was his first time.
But Riley didn’t seem to notice anything except his bride.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” he whispered as he watched Phoenix, and somehow that put Kyle more at ease. This wedding was meant to be. Maybe it was the perfect moment for some serious reflection on love and commitment, even if it did have to come from him.
Unfortunately, when Phoenix’s brother handed her to Riley and the two turned to face him, that comforting feeling fled and, inexplicably, Kyle choked up. There was no explanation for his emotion, except that he cared so much about both Phoenix and Riley. He figured caring was okay; he just couldn’t break down in front of everyone he knew.
He cleared his throat, trying to gain control. But that didn’t seem to solve the problem. He had to do it two or three times, until Lizzie groaned as she shifted and said, “Are you going to get on with it?”
Fortunately, that broke the spell. Several people snickered. Then Kyle was able to laugh, too, and proceeded to tell Phoenix and Riley, and everyone else, what the Beatles had already said so well—love is all you need.