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I couldn’t help smiling as Mr. Henry, who was a quiet but kind man I had nothing but affection for, kissed his new wife, Faye North. It was tough to remain cynical when watching two people in their sixties share their love and affection for each other. They were blatantly happy together, as they should be on their wedding day.
When I glanced up at Holden, grin on my face, I expected to see a similar look on his, but instead, his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly and the corners of his lips curved downward. My smile faded as I wondered at his less-than-happy expression. Without thought, I sidled up closer to him so that our arms were touching.
As the officiant announced the newly wed husband and wife and explained where to go for the reception, Holden put his arm around me and pulled me close, still not smiling. It caught me off guard and made me wonder again what was going through his mind. It wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns.
“Everything okay?” I mouthed to him as the strings picked up and played a jubilant tune and Mr. and Mrs. Henry made their way, along with their attendants, toward the reception room.
Holden gave me a succinct nod, but everything else about him told me otherwise.
Minutes later, we headed toward the reception room, where the bride and groom formed a receiving line of two at the entrance. Both of Holden’s brothers were in front of us, as were some of the North family members, so we slowed down to wait our turn. Behind us, Sierra North and Mackenzie North, who I’d met before the ceremony, were huddled together, discussing the wedding, their husbands behind them.
“Hey, Chloe,” Mackenzie said. “We were just talking about Faye’s gorgeous dress.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said of the wisteria-colored gown that I was pretty sure had a designer label on it.
“Gorgeous,” Sierra added, “and I love that she listened to us and didn’t feel obligated to do some kind of white or ivory.”
“She knows we wouldn’t steer her wrong,” Mackenzie said with so much confidence and obvious affection. That these two women clearly loved their mother-in-law told me volumes—she must be a special lady.
I turned back to the front as Holden and I reached Faye. The woman radiated kindness and love, just like her new husband, so I was a little surprised to see that Holden was stiff and stilted when he offered congratulations—and a handshake instead of a hug.
Holden was a total hugger.
Before I could think too hard about that, he turned to me and said, “Faye, this is my friend Chloe Abrams. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Chloe, this is Faye.”
The woman took my hand in both of hers as Holden moved on to hug his dad, noticeably rushed.
“Congratulations, Mrs.…Henry?”
“It is,” she answered, “but please call me Faye. All the kids do. I’m so glad Holden brought you along.” She sent a quick, covert, concerned look in his direction that probably no one else noticed, and maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t already been tuned in to whatever weirdness Holden had going on.
“Thank you for having me, Faye. Mr. Henry has always been one of my favorite people.”
She laughed. “Mine too, I’d say. It’s nice to meet you, dear. Thank you for coming.”
With a smile, I turned toward Holden and his dad in time to see the tail end of some private exchange. Mr. Henry looked grave, and Holden looked like he was acting as if nothing was wrong, but his grin was only surface deep for once.
Mr. Henry’s smile widened when he saw me.
“Little Chloe. What the heck happened? You’re nearly as tall as me,” he said as we hugged. “It’s been way too long, dear girl.”
Little Chloe was what he’d always called me when I was younger, and it tugged at all five feet nine inches of me now. Holden’s smile might have been forced, but there was nothing fake about mine.
“It’s so good to see you, Mr. Henry. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Chloe. I’m glad you came with Holden.” Mr. Henry still had an arm around me. After a glance at his son, he pulled me into another hug and said into my ear, “Thank you for being there for him. He’s not handling this well.”
I nodded, sadness for Holden pulsing in my throat. I wasn’t sure what else to say about his son, so I merely said, “Your wife seems wonderful.”
He pulled back and beamed at me. “She truly is. I’m one lucky guy. Please, enjoy yourself. Eat till you can’t see straight. Have a good time tonight.”
“If you insist,” I said warmly as I moved toward Holden so as not to slow down the line. “Your dad is awesome,” I said as we walked away.
“Yeah.”
Obviously Holden wasn’t okay with his dad’s marriage, though he’d said nothing to me about it. As I wove my arm through his and we headed toward the bar, my chest ached with the desire to ease his upset. He’d always done so much for me, and I wondered how to pay him back. Unfortunately, people and emotions had never been my forte.
For him, I’d do my best, just as soon as I figured out what he needed.
