I'm Your Man (30 page)

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Authors: Timothy James Beck

BOOK: I'm Your Man
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“Is Jeremy—”
“Jeremy's a great kisser, too,” Adam said and winked at me. “He's getting ready. I need to do the same. There are already caterers and security people all over the place. Martin is getting in everyone's way. Daniel, can you rein him in? And you”—he pointed at me—“need to get yourself together. Josh has been asking for his best man.”
After he left, I gave Daniel a rueful look and said, “Life beckons.”
“It's okay,” Daniel said. “Let's get Sheila and Josh married and on their honeymoon. Then you and I can start working on us. Oh, one other thing. About Gretchen.”
“What?” I asked nervously.
“I know the two of you have become closer since we broke up. Could you not mention the thing about me buying another place?”
“I won't say anything, but what difference does it make?”
“She resisted the idea. Strongly. Probably because of that election year stuff she was talking about at the rehearsal dinner. She has no idea that I sold it. I ended up taking less than the property is worth so Martin could—”
“You sold Martin the town house? Are you nuts?” I asked. His expression warned me to back off, and I decided to let it drop for the moment. It was just one more thing we'd have to work out. But we
would
work it out, because I wasn't going to let anything spoil our reconciliation. Then another thought occurred to me. “When did you approach Gretchen about selling the town house? Before or after we broke up?”
“After.” He caught on. “Oh, I see why you're asking. None of our friends knew anything before we broke up, Blaine. I wouldn't have put them, or you, in that position. Once Gretchen knows all the details, I'm sure she'll be okay with it. Like I said, we have a lot to talk about. We're still the same two people who fought that night. But I promise that I'll be more honest with you. With the intention of working things out, not winning a fight.”
I nodded my agreement, relieved that no one knew about the baby. I'd be able to tell Daniel first, as soon as we got the wedding out of the way.
We finished getting dressed, admired each other in our vintage tuxedos, and after another lingering hug, walked to the bedroom door.
“Wait,” Daniel said, looking back at the rumpled bed with a wistful expression. “It would have been nice to stay there all day. One of the things I missed most is talking to you in bed.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, pulling him to me. “The loneliest part for me was that time just before I fell asleep.”
“I don't know if I can promise you much sleep tonight,” Daniel warned.
“Yeah, we do have a lot to
talk
about,” I said, giving him my best dumb look.
“That, too,” he said with a grin, giving me another passionate kiss before we went downstairs.
We found Adam's mother in the kitchen with Jeremy. While she fussed over a bagel for Daniel, I took a deep breath and walked to Jeremy.
“Last night,” I began.
Jeremy rested his hands on my shoulders and quietly said, “Thank you so much.”
“For what?” I asked, shocked.
“For locking Martin in that closet. You're my new best friend.”
“But Jeremy—”
“For God's sake, Blaine, you were drunk. Do you think I'm going to hold that kiss against you? After all, think of the number of times I've kissed
your
boyfriend.”
“Do I have to? Wait; who said he's my boyfriend?”
“Funny thing. I woke up this morning not deaf.”
“Oh,” I said, embarrassed.
He laughed at me and said, “Get something to eat. It's going to be a long day.”
“I don't want food,” I moaned.
“Hungover?” Aggie asked sympathetically. “I've got just the thing.”
She poured me a smoothie from the blender, and I had to admit it was exactly what I needed. I didn't dare ask what was in it.
“Okay, here's the plan,” Jeremy said. “We have a hospitality room set up at the hotel, and we're shuttling the guests over in vans. We have three trailers set up behind the tents. One is for the bride and her attendants. I advise you all to stay as far away from it as possible. One is for the groom. That's where you need to go, Blaine.”
“What's the third one?” I asked, shuddering as I saw Daniel move on from his bagel to a banana that Aggie handed him.
“There are four hairdressers in it. Anyone in the wedding party, or any of the guests, can go there if they want to get more forties-looking hairstyles.”
“What a great idea,” I commented.
“Thanks. It was mine,” Jeremy said.
Aggie added, “Cater waiters are mingling with trays of juices and coffee, and there's a bar set up if anyone wants mimosas, bellinis, or Bloody Marys.”
“Except you,” Daniel and Jeremy said to me in unison. They laughed as I dropped my head.
“If you see anything suspicious,” Jeremy went on, “all the security guys look like Secret Service agents. In other words, their suits are modern and navy and they're wearing the standard sunglasses. Any person who acts like a reporter or who has a camera should be wearing passes like this.” He held one up. “I doubt that anyone can get through Adam's security, but you never know.”
“Seems like overkill to me,” Aggie said.
“There will be several celebrities here, Aggie,” Jeremy said. “Not to mention a few closet cases. Sheila and Josh want their guests to feel at ease, and nobody wants to see pictures of the bride on tabloid covers.”
“Is the briefing over?” I asked. “You're starting to scare me. It's like the beginning of
The Godfather.

Jeremy and Daniel exchanged a look and, again in unison, croaked their Marlon Brando impressions:
What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?
“Freaking actors,” I muttered and heard them laughing as I stepped out the back door. I nearly tripped over Blythe, who was sitting cross-legged on the deck, drawing furiously in a sketch book. “What are you doing?”
She shifted so I could see that she was sketching a group of people standing about twenty yards from us. I sat down on the top step, marveling that for once, her brown hair was stripped of its magenta streaks and combed down into something resembling a bob, which I guessed was about as forties as she could get.
“It's a wedding gift that Adam and I are working on,” she explained, flipping through a few pages so I could see some other sketches.
“It looks like a storyboard.”
“Exactly,” she said. “We're doing a Web site that makes it seem like this whole event was a movie. Look out there. Doesn't it look like a set from sixty years ago?”
She was right. I could see members of the orchestra in white dinner jackets heading for the reception tent. The guests who'd already arrived were dressed, as requested, in forties attire. I saw more than one World War II uniform and figured the folks from Wisconsin, at least, had been digging in their attics. The few cars that were allowed onto the property were leases from a company that specialized in vintage cars. It really did look like the first
Godfather
movie.
“It's kind of amazing, isn't it?” I asked.
“It's wonderful. Sheila is so smart. Being in costume equalizes everyone. The celebrities are indistinguishable from her other friends and family. That'll make everyone more comfortable. Now go away. I'm working, and Josh probably needs you.”
I tried not to do a double take as I saw Faizah, who looked nothing like a bruise, holding a bellini while she laughed with Tina Fey and Sandra Bernhard. I wished I could hear that conversation, but I resisted the urge and headed for the trailers. I didn't heed Jeremy's warning, however, choosing to go first to Sheila's trailer, where I found her standing in a white silk robe amid a maelstrom of feminine chaos. Her expression was pure panic when she heard the door open, but once she saw me, she relaxed.
“I was afraid you were my mother,” she said. “I can't handle any more accidents.”
“Blaine Dunhill, you get out of here,” Patti ordered.
I returned the disapproving stares I was getting from her and Gretchen and asked, “Why is Faizah the only one dressed?”
“Because I forgot to get something borrowed,” Sheila explained, dropping her robe so that I saw her in all her lingeried glory. “We sent her on a mission to find something, and she never came back.”
“She's drinking and yakking up your guests,” I said. “Probably soliciting votes for Election 2008.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, tucking it into the top of her white bustier. “I expect to get that back. I love you.”
“Thank you,” Sheila said, hugging me. “I love you, too.”
“Now go away,” Gretchen ordered. “You might be used to seeing Sheila half naked, but the rest of us would like a little privacy.”
I laughed as I stepped outside the door, remembering Gretchen in stirrups at the behest of “Dr. Gibb.”
“Good grief, we do all look like gangsters,” I said when I went inside Josh's trailer. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have the rings?” Josh asked, and I patted my coat pocket with a nod.
“Is my mother being restrained somewhere?” Jake asked. “She's giving Sheila fits.”
“Everything's under control,” I promised.
“Why? Did you find another closet for Martin?” Jake asked.
“I'm sorry about last night,” I said. “Josh, what the hell are you doing to that tie?”
“I don't know. I hate it,” Josh answered, ripping it off in frustration and hurling it across the trailer.
I retrieved it and put it around his neck, trying not to laugh at the wild look in his eyes. “Be still. Let me do it. Has anyone given you the facts-of-life talk?”
“Jo, Blair, Tootie, and Natalie are the only people who haven't tried to traipse through here,” Josh muttered.
“But I might have seen Mrs. Garrett with George Clooney at the bar,” Jake said.
“Then they're crashing. Call security,” Josh answered. “Ow, that's too tight!”
“Much like Blaine was last night,” Jake said.
“I can't tell you how gratifying it is that I've given you all a moment to celebrate over your General Foods Suisse Mocha in years to come.”
“He never forgets a product,” Daniel said as he joined us.
“But did you remember the rings?” Josh asked, panic returning to his eyes.
Jake turned away to hide his smile when I said, “They're right here in my pocket. Do you want to see them?”
“No, I trust you,” Josh said. “Daniel looks better than I do.”
“Daniel looks better than everybody does,” I said. “It's in his contract.”
“What can I say; I've got a good agent. Who tied that tie?” Daniel asked, frowning at Josh.
“Why? What's wrong with it?” Josh groaned.
“It's perfect,” Daniel said. I raised my hand, and he nodded knowingly. “You were always good at tying—”
“I don't wanna know,” Jake begged.
“—ties,” Daniel finished. “Have you ever noticed that heterosexuals think of nothing but sex?”
“It's how I stay in business,” I said. “Now about tonight, Josh.”
“I just want to get through this wedding,” Josh said. “Have you—”
“I've got the rings. Everything is fine.”
And it was. I was dazzled by the inside of the tent when I stood looking out from the altar. It had a gardenlike quality, the greenery twinkling with subtle white lights that duplicated the candles flickering on the altar. I leaned across Jake to say to Daniel, “This has sure changed since the rehearsal. It's fantastic. You designed all this?”
“Yes,” Daniel said.
“Okay, let me fix this,” Jake said. He stepped back and moved Daniel next to me, then stood where Daniel had been.
“No,” Daniel said. “You're Sheila's brother. She wants you behind the best man.”
“If Sheila still has the capacity to notice anything, she'll be thrilled to see the two of you standing side by side,” Jake argued. “Plus this means you'll be escorting Gretchen back down the aisle, Daniel, which seems right. Haven't you two been friends forever? And I'll escort Patti, to try to redeem myself.”
“Redeem yourself?” Daniel asked.
“Christmas pageant. Fifth grade,” I said.
“Patti was only in the second grade,” Jake said. “I was supposed to walk her off the stage. I tripped and pulled her down with me. Knocked out both of her front teeth.”
“Ouch,” Daniel said.
“They were just baby teeth,” Jake defended himself.
Daniel's shoulder pressed against mine as we both looked out at the guests. I saw his sisters sitting in a row next to his parents and smiled at them. Mary Kate wasn't looking. Gwendy pretended not to see me. And Lydia waved frantically.
“Your sisters look so pretty,” I said.
“Promise me you'll dance with Lydia. She's been bitching at me about you for seven months. Tell her I'm not a monster.”
Grandparents were escorted to their seats while the woodwind quintet—friends of Nora Meyers—played. As I scanned the guests, I let out a little grunt of dismay.
“You don't have them, do you?” Josh spoke the first words I'd heard out of him since we gathered on the altar.
“Josh, I swear I have the rings,” I said. I turned my head toward Daniel and said, “Two o'clock. Sixth row. The couple that looks like they have pokers up their asses? My parents.”

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