The One I Trust (17 page)

She told me that wasn’t the point and that everyone was going to be in town the night before and that we should all eat together. I told her we
were
all going to eat together—the next day in Hale’s beach house after the wedding. She started asking questions about that and when she found out that we were planning on having chips, onion dip, and a veggie tray from the grocery store she completely took over.

“I think it’s sweet,” Emily said.

“It
is
sweet,” I agreed, “but I told you I don’t want to take any money from them.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so dead set against letting anybody help us . . . they’re our
parents
.”

“Well,
your
parents have done quite enough already with the $4,000 wedding dress,” I said. Emily giggled and I went on. “And I’m thirty years old. I want to pay for things myself. It’s embarrassing that I couldn’t even afford a plane ticket to Maine.”

“They’ve missed your entire life,” Emily reminded me. “They
want
to help.”

“I know,” I said reluctantly. It wasn’t as if I had much choice anyway—Charlotte had pretty much put her foot down. “But after this, we’re not taking any help from anyone.” This was not the first time Emily had heard this speech from me, but I said it all again anyway. “If we can’t afford it, then we’re going to do without. Got it?”

She assured me one more time that she got it.

Emily’s parents and younger brother rented a sound-side hotel room in Swansboro on the mainland and arrived around lunchtime on Thursday, two days before the wedding. Charlotte, Jordan, and their three boys had been in North Carolina for four days already, renting an oceanfront condo about ten minutes north of Hale’s place so that they could spend some time enjoying the beach. Jarrett didn’t plan on arriving until the day before the wedding, and he agreed to meet us in Morehead City at the restaurant Charlotte had picked for our rehearsal dinner. I couldn’t help but wonder what the owner of three prestigious eating establishments on the coast of Maine was going to think of all the fried seafood, hushpuppies, and sweet tea that was about to come his way.

The restaurant was right on the Intercoastal Waterway and next to it were slips for charter boats. While we all waited outside for Jarrett to arrive, we saw a lot of boats coming in, filled with people who had paid to go out fishing all day. We watched as crews cleaned sea bass, snapper, and grouper and as sunburned customers had their pictures taken with their catches.

“Do you think she’s nervous?” Emily whispered in my ear. She tipped her head toward Charlotte.

“About what?”

“About seeing Jarrett.”

I looked at Charlotte. She and Jordan were laughing with their oldest son.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “She doesn’t look nervous.”

“Well she’s not going to
act
nervous,” Emily argued. “She’s going to act like she’s got it all together and couldn’t care less.”

“I don’t think the two of them were ever really all that serious.”

“Oh, right,” she said sarcastically. “They just had a baby together . . .”

I looked at Emily skeptically. “I don’t think she’s too concerned about it.”

Who
was
concerned about it, however, was Jarrett’s wife, Theresa. Surprisingly, she showed up with Jarrett about five minutes later.

Talk about nervous.

“Hi,” I said, shaking her hand happily when Jarrett introduced us. “I’m really glad to see you.”

I really was, but she couldn’t even manage to force a smile or make eye contact.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

I started introducing Jarrett and Theresa to everybody, beginning with Emily and then Hale and his family and ending with Charlotte and Jordan. When Charlotte and Jarrett got to each other, they both reached forward for a brief, polite hug and then Charlotte shook hands with Theresa and gave her a big, genuine smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Charlotte said earnestly.

“Thank you,” Theresa said once more. Again, there was no eye contact and no smile, and it seemed like she spoke even quieter than when she’d said it to me.

Throughout the meal, I couldn’t keep myself from looking over at Theresa. I was so glad that she and Jarrett were trying to work things out, but I was also worried that it wasn’t going to happen. I think Theresa was trying to pull it together, but I kept catching her glance up, either at me—her husband’s child—or at Charlotte, her husband’s former lover. I wondered exactly what was going through her mind.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one who noticed that Theresa was struggling. Partway through the meal, Molly slid down out of her booster seat and crawled under the table. She popped up on the other side, worked her way over to Theresa, and looked up at her. Theresa stared back at Molly, startled and clearly uncertain of exactly what she was supposed to do with this little girl who was suddenly in front of her.

I watched as Molly reached both of her hands up to Theresa’s face, putting one on each cheek. She continued looking at Theresa for a moment and then said, “I love you,” before laying her head against Theresa and wrapping her arms around her.

Theresa still seemed unsure how to handle Molly, but after a minute she patted Molly on the back. Molly pulled away, stroked Theresa’s cheeks again, and then made her way back to her seat.

Theresa glanced around the table and when her eyes met mine I gave her a knowing smile. She looked away, but not before giving me a little smile in return.

By the time dinner was over and we’d walked across the street to peruse some gift shops, Theresa was holding hands with Molly. An hour later, after we’d all gathered at Hale’s beach house for ice cream, she was deep in conversation with Charlotte.

“We knew we wanted someone with special needs,” Charlotte was explaining to her as I walked by on my way to the kitchen. “Jordan’s a speech therapist so we were thinking cleft palate or something like that, but then we found out about thalassemia and it just seemed like a perfect fit.”

“What’s thalassemia?” I asked, stopping to listen.

“It’s a type of anemia,” Charlotte said, looking at me. “All three of our boys have it.”

“They do?”

She nodded.

“What is it exactly?”

“It’s a genetic condition,” she said, “and there’s only like ten treatment centers in the United States. One of them is less than fifteen minutes from our condo and we knew that we had the resources to help them . . .”

“What does it do to them?”

“Well, there’s different types,” Charlotte explained. “Our boys all have thalassemia major or Cooley’s anemia, which is the most severe type. They don’t have any beta protein in their hemoglobin so we have to take them for regular blood transfusions, and then they need chelation therapy because—”

“Excuse me,” their youngest, Adam, interrupted as he walked by. “
Who
takes us for regular blood transfusions?”

Charlotte leveled her gaze at him and he turned to me.

“She hasn’t taken any of us for a blood transfusion since Jonathan got his license four years ago.”

“That is absolutely
not
true.”

“When’s the last time you went with one of us?” he challenged.

“Would you like me to take away the car and then I can personally go with you to every appointment?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I was just trying to set the record straight.”

Charlotte smirked at him and said, “Why don’t you go see if you can find a shark to pet?” and he bounded off before he could get into more trouble.

“Anyway,” Charlotte said with a smile, looking at Theresa. “If you’ve got the resources, telling them that you’re willing to consider a special needs child can really make things start to happen. I know you’ve had a couple of bad experiences, but please don’t let that keep you from trying again.”

I walked away, leaving them alone to finish their conversation and shaking my head over the fact that I had once honestly believed that Charlotte had given me away because she didn’t want to deal with a child who might get sick.

I WOKE UP the next morning to the sound of Hale’s voice. “Reid? Reid, wake up.”

I reached a hand up to rub my eyes and when I opened them I found Hale’s phone in my face.

I moaned and rolled over. “Go away.”

“Reid,” he said enthusiastically. “Tell everyone what’s happening today.”

Ever since I’d first met him, Hale’s dream had been to videotape something and have it go viral. You might be eating a burger or driving down the road singing or just brushing your teeth and suddenly you’d find Hale pointing his phone at you, certain that something exciting or funny was about to happen and that he was going to catch it all on camera. He hadn’t filmed me in a couple of years but I guess he figured I was finally up for it again.

“Go away,” I said again into my pillow.

“Today is a special day, ladies and gentlemen. Reid, why don’t you tell everybody what today is?”

“Because I’m sleeping.”

“It’s time to get up, Reid,” he said. “Why don’t you tell everybody what you’re getting ready to do?”

I turned back around and looked at him.

“This isn’t going to go viral,” I told him.
“Go away!”

“What’s going on today, Reid?”

He wasn’t going to give up. The quickest way to get him to turn off his stupid phone was to do what he wanted.

“It’s a
special
day, Hale,” I said, my voice dripping with fake enthusiasm.

“What’s so special about it?” he asked.

“Why, I’m getting
married
today, Hale,” I said, plastering a big fake smile on my face. “It’s my
wedding
day.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Tired . . .”

He lowered his phone and looked at me.

“You’re no fun,” he said. “You know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

He thought for a moment.

“Maybe you or Emily will trip when you’re going down the stairs,” he said.

“We can always hope.”

There was no tripping or anything else that was viral-worthy, just a small wedding on the beach with our families and a $4,000 wedding dress that—in my opinion—looked pretty darn good. After the ceremony we all went into the house and enjoyed the feast that Charlotte had had catered: steamed shrimp, spanakopita, crab-stuffed mushrooms, and strawberry bruschetta. After Emily and I cut the cake (one of the few things we had actually spent any money on at all), Hale appeared in front of me holding his phone again.

“Reid,” he said, trying to hand me some sort of toasted bread topped with smoked salmon and caviar. “Why don’t you try this and tell me what you think?”

“I’m not eating
fish
eggs,” I told him.

“Come on, Reid,” he said. “This is your chance to see how the other half lives.”

The fact that he wanted me to try it so badly pretty much told me that it was absolutely disgusting.

“Do you want me to throw up on you?” I asked. “Is that what you want to have happen? Do you think
that
would go viral?”

“Just try it,” he encouraged.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “
Go away
.”

He did go away . . . eventually. All of them did. One of Hale and Anneka’s gifts to us was the use of the beach house for a week-long honeymoon, so Emily and I stood on the porch and waved good-bye as the last few family members pulled away. The final ones to leave were Hale and Anneka and Molly because Hale had a few last-minute reminders about turning the water off and cutting the breaker to the hot tub before we left. With one final round of hugs and kisses and slaps on the backs, they got in their van and drove away . . . leaving me alone with my new wife.

THE MORNING AFTER we got back from our honeymoon, I woke up before Emily did and got ready for work. She was still in bed when it was time for me to leave, so I kissed her good-bye and told her that I’d see her that afternoon.

When I got home, I was pleasantly surprised to smell dinner cooking as I opened the carport door.

“Hi,” Emily said, greeting me with a big smile, followed by an even bigger hug and a kiss.

“Something smells great,” I said. “What are you making?”

“Chicken cacciatore. I found this website that has all these really good recipes for people who are on a shoestring budget.”

“That would be us.”

“I also added up all the gift cards and checks and cash we got along with the money that you’ve been saving,” she said, “and I totally think that if I clip coupons and shop specials and my car doesn’t break down or anything, we’re going to be able to make it until I get my first paycheck.”

“And when is that?”

“End of August.”

Somehow that seemed awfully far away, but I didn’t have much choice other than to believe her.

“Tomorrow we’re having homemade pizza,” she said. “And then Wednesday we’re having taco salad.”

“All sounds good to me.”

“Everything’s ready right now except for the bread,” she went on. “I didn’t want to put it in the oven until I was sure you wanted to eat.”

We still had our arms around each other and I looked at her uncertainly.

“You know,” she said. “In case you were maybe interested in doing a little something else first when you got home?”

I looked at her for another moment but then I got it and I felt a smile spread across my face.

“I think I might be interested in something else,” I said, nodding. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Then she kissed me again and showed me exactly what she had in mind.

That summer was great . . . I really liked being married to Emily. I liked how she waited every evening for me to get home from work. I liked how she greeted me at the door with a smile and a hug and kiss, and I liked how she looked into my eyes when she asked me how my day went and how she really listened—like she cared so much about everything I said. I liked how she was so smart and careful with what little money we had and how she always managed to make meals that tasted as if they cost five times as much as they really did. (Only once did she screw something up so bad that we had to order pizza—and she even had a coupon for that.) On the weekends, I liked working with her on dinner, cutting up vegetables for a salad or throwing meat on the grill while she set the table. I liked lying on the couch with her in the evenings and watching television. I liked sleeping with her.