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“I’m the best man, and I’ve had my tux for a week. You might want to try it on.”
“It fit in the store except for one minor alteration. Unless the tailor went crazy and made the pants into Bermuda shorts, I think I’m good.”
“We are now the proud owners of yet another tux.” I shake my head, picturing the formalwear lining my closet. Sometimes being rich is a pain in the ass.
“Should’ve expected Vivian to be specific about what style we wear,” he says, peeling back the zipper and taking a look. “Damn, it’s nice, though.”
It is. We’re going to look better than we have ever looked. Sadly, there’s no one there for me to impress.
I turn to leave. “See you Saturday.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You didn’t offer to do this under the guise of hanging out with me? We could play basketball.”
“Have you improved since our game of one-on-one after you stepped in it with Cris?”
“No. But since you find yourself in a similar predicament with Talia, I thought you might want to talk.”
“I’m good,” I lie, turning for the door again. Good is a big overstatement. But I’m stable. I don’t need to play basketball to prove it.
“Even though you were zero help to me back then, I’m willing to give you advice. It includes a beer.” He’s already at the fridge, cracking open two longnecks. I shut the front door, giving in.
“I’ll take a beer, but this feels like a trick.”
“You have to tell me what happened. I’m hearing secondhand from Cris, who talked to Talia, so who knows what’s real.”
“She talked to Talia?” Just saying her name hurts. I develop a serious case of dry mouth and take a deep pull from my beer bottle. My brother leads the way to his back patio. Next to his heated swimming pool, we settle onto a pair of chairs. I close my eyes, soak in the sunshine, and let the breeze ruffle my hair.
Doesn’t help. I’m as miserable today as I was the day I drove Talia to the airport and hugged her goodbye and pretended I wasn’t dead inside.
“Cris talked to Talia the morning before she flew home. She told me she hasn’t heard from her since. Is she coming to the wedding?”
“No.” I can’t imagine a scenario where Talia would voluntarily come back, no matter how much she likes Vivian. “She’s busy with work.”
“That’s a lame reason to give up on her.” He tips his beer bottle to his lips.
“Unlike you, I confessed everything. And unlike Nate, it didn’t work out in the end.”
“It didn’t work out for him at first, either,” Benji reminds me. Irritatingly.
“She has her reasons. A long time ago, she prioritized a boyfriend. Her mother died while Talia was being proposed to on a football field. She never forgave herself for it.”
“Ah.” That one syllable says it all. My brother, the orphan, understands where Talia’s coming from. “I wasn’t there when my parents died. I felt guilty for years for not being in the car.” He gives me a sideways smile that is packed with grief. “I didn’t realize what I was carrying around with me. I mean, I was ten. Stomachaches at age ten could mean too much sugar or growing pains. They’re not typically caused by survivor’s guilt.”
This is the part of himself Benji hides well. There is a serious, caring side behind the happy-go-lucky facade. As much shit as I give him, his exterior is as resilient as rhino hide. He had to be tough. He left the only family he knew to live with strangers. He is an Owen through and through now, but it took years for him to feel at home with us.
“I’m sorry, man,” I say, meaning it. “I can never understand what you and Nate have been through.” All my whining about how they were given preferential treatment back when I was a kid looks like spoiled-rotten teenager shit now. They never had anything over me. They were starting from scratch. “I could have been nicer to you when I was younger.”
“Archer, you and Nate are the best brothers I never knew to ask for. You guys cared about me and you didn’t even have to. Who was I? Some kid you didn’t know placed in a family that was yours.”
“If you tell me you love me, I’m going to punch you in the face.” I earn a hearty laugh. I like that sound much better than the distraught tone in his voice.
“You can drop the tough-guy act. I saw you with Talia. You were pure mush.” He pauses to take in the swaying trees and the ripples on the surface of his swimming pool. “You miss her, don’t you?”
My eyes on the beer bottle dangling from my fingers, I admit, “Yeah. I do.”
“Have you thought about going to her?”
“A million times. She considers me a distraction. I’m trying not to distract her.”
