- Text Size +
Chapter 126

Until she had started planning a wedding, Claire had never understood the expression “time flies” better. When she had gotten engaged to Jamie in February, she’d thought the wait for her wedding day to arrive would seem to take an eternity. She’d never been the most patient person in the world. But quite the contrary, she couldn’t believe how quickly it was approaching. February had turned into March, and then, suddenly, it had been May. The summer had flown by, a fast-motion blur between June and September, and now…

“Christmas commercials?!” Claire cried, gaping at the TV, which was blasting the tune to “Jingle Bells” as people in Santa hats and Christmas sweaters bounced around in the flashy ad for a department store sale. “Jamie, they just showed a Christmas commercial! It’s November first!”

Jamie, who had just come back into her living room, laughed. “Well, that is about when they start showing them anymore. Halloween’s over; time to move on to the next big commercial holiday.”

“What about Thanksgiving??”

“It’s not commercial, babe. You don’t buy presents for Thanksgiving – or candy and costumes. What do you think the point of advertising is?”

“God, I can’t believe the holidays are already here,” Claire moaned, raking her hands through her hair.

“But you love the holidays,” Jamie pointed out.

“Yes, but when Christmas comes, it means we only have one month till the wedding. Exactly one month. There’s sooo much left to do before then!”

Jamie laughed. “Clairie – chill. There’s plenty of time, and look, everything’s coming together on schedule. See?” He tossed her a small package, which she caught with surprise.

“Ooh, was that the UPS guy?” she asked, turning the brown cardboard box over in her hands. Her eyes lit up as she spotted the return label of the engraving company. “Ooh, the invitations!!”

Jamie chuckled again as she tore into the box like a kid on Christmas and pulled out a tall stack of invitations wrapped in clear cellophane. She struggled with the wrap, but it was sealed tightly and didn’t want to open. “Need some help?” asked Jamie as she looked for a loose edge she could tear up.

“I got it,” she replied quickly, but after a few more seconds of yanking and grunting in frustration, she gave him a sheepish look and handed it over.

Jamie tugged at the cellophane, frowned, and then lifted the top to his mouth, baring his teeth as he tried to use them to rip the plastic open.

“Don’t use your teeth!” Claire screeched, jumping up to snatch the package away from him. Meeting Jamie’s innocent face with a strict look, she cautioned, “Do you know how many patients I see in the office who chipped their teeth trying to get something open or undone?”

Jamie shrugged. “It’s just cellophane,” he protested, but she’d already gone into the kitchen to dig out some scissors, smirking at how like her father she sounded. She couldn’t count how many times he’d barked at her not to use her teeth to open things or get knots out when she was a child, and after working for a dentist for five years, she understood why.

She slit open the top of the cellophane and pulled the rest of the wrapping off easily. The invitations remained in a neat stack, bound by paper. Sliding the top one out from under the ribbon of paper, she opened the heavy parchment paper in anticipation. She heard Jamie come up behind her to read over her shoulder as she eagerly scanned the message she and her mother had composed, under the direction of the representative from the engraving company. The words, written in elegant, plum-colored script that rose slightly off the ivory parchment and listing the date, time, and place of their wedding, made the whole thing seem that much more real. It was set in stone now – or on paper, anyway.

Smiling excitedly, she handed the invitation to Jamie for a closer look. He nodded his approval and wordlessly planted a kiss on her cheek, before closing the invitation and slipping it back into the stack.

“Ahh, I’ve got to call my mom and tell her they’re here,” said Claire gleefully. “She said she’d help me address them so I can mail them out. Maybe we can do that next week,” she went on as she reached for her phone, a million things on her mind. “You can help if you want.”

“That’s okay,” Jamie chuckled. “We want to make sure they actually get to the people we’re inviting, and you know how crappy my handwriting is.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire smiled and speed-dialed her parents’ home.

***

The following weekend, Claire sat at the kitchen table in her mother’s house in Gainesville, her hand starting to cramp from all of the addresses she’d written in her neatest, most careful penmanship.

“Jenn,” she muttered, adding an envelope addressed to Miss Jennifer Brooks, her best friend from college, to the stack of finished invitations. She reached for the next blank envelope, then paused and went back to Jenn’s invitation, setting it apart from the others. She would need extra postage for that one; it was being mailed all the way to Paris, France, where Jenn had been living since graduation. But Jenn would be back in a month; she had arranged to fly home for Christmas and stay for a month, just long enough to serve as a bridesmaid in the wedding. As a woman who only had a few close girlfriends, Claire was eternally grateful for this.

Her mother glanced up from the envelope she was addressing. “I think I’ll just take these to the post office on Monday, rather than mailing them from home. That way, they’ll take care of the postage. Jenn’s is the only overseas address though, right?”

“Right,” Claire nodded, scanning her half of the guest list her mother had divided for them to address. She had reached the bottom of it; there was only one name left. Unlike the others, no address accompanied it. It was just his first name, scrawled hastily, with a fat question mark after it.

Nick?

She looked up. “Mom? What should I do about Nick?”

Her mother stopped again and lifted her head, meeting Claire’s eyes. “You mean, should you invite him or not?” she asked, and Claire nodded.

It was a question she had long debated in her own mind. She was afraid that inviting Nick, the man to whom she’d once been engaged, to her wedding with someone else would only hurt him. She didn’t want it to look like she was rubbing salt into his wounds. But at the same time, she feared that not inviting him might sting worse. She didn’t want it to seem like she was cutting him out of her life, and this was certainly a major event in her life. There were plenty of reasons to invite him and just as many not to. She’d gone over them all time and time again and still hadn’t come to a concrete decision, hence the question mark that accompanied his name on her list.

“Let me ask you a question,” said her mother. “Is Nick your friend or your ex-boyfriend?”

Claire hesitated. “He’s… he’s both,” she replied, staring at her mother. Wasn’t that the reason for the whole dilemma, the fact that he was both a close friend and a guy she’d dated seriously?

“Well, what do you think of him more as? A friend, or an old flame?”

Claire paused again, considering it. She and Nick had dated for not quite a year, but she’d had feelings for him long before that. On the other hand, he’d been a friend before she’d even considered the idea of him being anything more, and she liked to think they were still good friends, not just the ex-boyfriend and girlfriend who somehow managed to get along.

“Friend,” she said, with a nod of certainty.

Her mother nodded too. “Then invite him,” she advised. “If he doesn’t want to go, that will be his decision to make, and an understandable one at that, but at least you’ll have given him the option. I think not inviting him to something as big as your wedding would only make him feel more like your ex and less like your friend.”

Claire smiled gratefully. “That makes sense. I’ll invite him,” she agreed, and as she pulled a fresh envelope from the dwindling pile and wrote out his address by heart, she smiled, feeling like she was making a good decision. She was putting it in his hands now, the choice of whether to come or not. She wasn’t sure what he would do… but secretly, she wanted him to come. If he came, she would take it as a sign that he had accepted the fact that she was marrying Jamie… and she wanted his acceptance. She needed his acceptance, needed to know he wouldn’t resent her for her choices the rest of her life.

Her stomach churned with nerves as she carefully slid an invitation and RSVP card into the envelope, placed a seal and return address label on it, and set it down on the table, face up. Mr. Nick Carter, his name gleamed up at her, strangely formal on the fancy envelope. She stared at it and, for a split second, imagined that it said Mr. Jamie Turner. It easily could have, were the situation reversed, as it had been two years ago. Jamie’s name would have been on the outside of the invitation then, and Nick’s on the inside, along with hers and the details of their wedding, the lost wedding which had never been fully planned and would never take place.

She swallowed hard and blinked back to reality, reading his name and address again, picturing the words of the real invitation on the inside. Then she picked up the envelope and added it to her stack.

***

A few days later, Claire sat staring at the envelope again, this time in her car, which she’d thrown into park at the foot of Nick’s driveway. Her mother had put the rest of the stack of invitations into the mail on Monday, but Claire had taken Nick’s with her after deciding to deliver it to him in person. She didn’t want him to get it in the mail without a word from her; she want to be there, hand it to him herself, and explain.

Yet now that she was here on his property, her stomach was fluttering with butterflies. Could she really do this? Go up to her ex-fiancée’s house and invite him to her wedding, her wedding to a man he despised?

You have to, she coached herself, knowing she would regret not extending the invitation, whether he accepted it or not. Her mom was right; she had to let him know that, despite everything, he was still her friend, and she wanted to include him in the important events of her life. Besides, she had reasoned with herself, if it was his wedding, you’d go, wouldn’t you? When he gets married, you’ll want to be invited.

Confident that, were the tables turned, she would go to Nick’s wedding, she decided she was being silly for hesitating so much and set the invitation on the passenger’s seat, shifting gears back into drive. She pulled the Beetle up his long driveway, parking in the circle in front of his house and shutting off the engine. Sitting for a moment, she took a deep breath, then unfastened her seatbelt, grabbed the envelope from the seat next to her, and climbed out of the car.

***

Nick was on the phone with Kevin when he heard the car door slam. Phone to his ear, listening to Kevin ramble about Kristin and how much she was starting to show now that she was six months pregnant, he got up from the couch and went to the picture window in the living room. Peeking out the sheer curtains, he saw the yellow Bug, and his stomach flip-flopped.

“Hey, Kev?” he said, interrupting Kevin’s excited babbling, “Sorry, but can I call you back a little later? Claire just showed up.”

Kevin stopped shortly. “Oh. Well… I see where I come in on your priority list, huh, Nick?”

“What? No, Kev, it’s not that; I just… I gotta get the door!” Nick exclaimed, flustered.

Kevin started laughing immediately. “Kidding, Nick, jesus! It’s cool, bro; mellow out, huh? Call me back when you can. And lemme know about Thanksgiving, alright?”

Relaxing, Nick smirked. Even after fifteen years of knowing the guy, he still couldn’t tell when Kevin was being sarcastic. “Sure, I will. Thanks for the invite.”

“No problem. You know you’re welcome anytime, kiddo.”

Twenty-seven years old, and he still calls me kiddo, thought Nick with a smile, shaking his head. He and Brian also still invited Nick to spend the holidays with their family in Kentucky, like they had every year since Nick was nineteen and estranged from his own family. He hadn’t accepted every year; some years he spent holidays with Howie’s family or AJ’s or a girlfriend’s or by himself. But he’d enjoyed quite a few Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with the Littrell family, and the way it was looking, he’d be flying to Lexington again at the end of the month.

Saying goodbye, he got off the phone with Kevin just as the doorbell rang and went to the door. When he opened it, there was Claire, in her work scrubs and clean, white tennis shoes, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She immediately smiled up at him. “Hi, Nick.”

“Hey!” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise at seeing her on his doorstep.

It had been awhile since he’d seen her. Between work and getting ready for the wedding, it seemed like he never saw her anymore. She came to the support group with him every once in awhile on Saturdays, but usually she spent her weekends with Jamie or her mom, doing “wedding stuff.” Nick was used to it by now and understood, though it still stung a little. It wasn’t just that they didn’t hang out anymore; it was that it was more clear than ever that he had been replaced. By Jamie. He was her boyfriend now, her fiancée, and in just over two months, he would be her husband. Nick hated the thought, so he just tried not to think about it.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh… you know,” she replied with a vague shrug.

Nick didn’t know, but he could imagine. “Work? Wedding?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Like I said… you know.” She shifted her weight, her hands clasped together behind her back. “So, what about you? What’s been up?”

He, too, shrugged. “Nothin’ much. Just… you know… hangin’ out, working on some music and stuff.”

“Really? I’d love to hear it sometime… I mean, if that’s okay.”

He smirked, suddenly thinking of the song he’d written for her when they were together, the song he’d never let her hear. And never would, at this rate. But there were other songs she could hear, other songs that weren’t about their relationship. “Yeah, sure… I mean, if you want to.”

She smiled. “Of course! Invite me over anytime you want an audience.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Well hey, come inside, why don’t you? Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you standing on the porch.”

“It’s okay,” Claire laughed, following him inside. “I can’t stay long, but I actually wanted to give you something. Speaking of invites…”

He turned around, and she wordlessly handed him a fancy-looking, cream-colored envelope, embossed with a floral pattern. Nick swallowed hard, his stomach clenching. He knew right away what this was. “Speaking of invites, huh?” he muttered as he walked back into the living room, his throat clogged. “Would this be your wedding invitation?” He flipped it over and saw his full name and address on the front. There was a return address too, but no stamp. “Why didn’t you mail it?”

“I wanted to bring it over in person,” she said quietly, following him. When he sat down on the couch, still looking at the envelope, she sat down next to him and put her hand on his arm. “Listen… I wasn’t sure if it was right to invite you or not; I know it’s kind of weird… for both of us. But… despite everything, you’re my friend, Nick, and I would love to have you there if you feel like coming. But if you don’t, I understand… and I can’t say I’d blame you.” She shrugged awkwardly, giving him a crooked smile.

Nick nodded, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t just yet. He’d thought about the wedding, about what it would be like to watch her walk down the aisle in a white wedding gown, into the arms of another man. Jamie, no less. The mental picture made him sick, and yet he knew it was going to be a reality, whether he was there to witness it or not. He hadn’t been sure if she would even invite him or not, and now that she had, he still wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to go.

He took his time opening the envelope, pulling out the invitation. It was very formal-looking, made of heavy paper and written in elegant, engraved cursive. He read the words slowly and silently, letting himself take them in.

~

Mr. and Mrs. Kristopher Ryan
request the honor of your presence
at the marriage of their daughter
Claire Aileen
to
James Thomas Turner
son of Mrs. Joanne Turner and the late Mr. Patrick Turner
on Friday, the twenty-fifth of January
at five o’clock in the evening
at Bayview Christian Church
Tampa, Florida

~

Enclosed with the wedding invitation was a separate invitation to the reception and an RSVP card. Nick looked at both, running his fingers over the engraved words, feeling the texture of the swirling letters beneath his fingertips. He swallowed hard and looked over at Claire, who was watching him, chewing on her bottom lip the way she always did when she was nervous.

He cleared his throat. “Can I… can I, um, let you know later?” he asked, twirling the RSVP card awkwardly.

“Oh! Sure!” she exclaimed quickly, nodding. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just stick that in the mail or give me a call, or whatever. I don’t care about all the formalities. And you know, if you maybe just want to come to the reception, that’s fine too… whatever you feel like doing.”

Watching her, he could tell she wanted him to come. And he knew it wasn’t because she wanted to put him through the pain of watching her marry someone else; she wasn’t that cruel. He got the impression that she just wanted to know he was okay. Coming to her wedding, despite everything, would be a sign that was he was okay with it.

But was he?

Nick kept twirling the RSVP card. It had been almost two years since they’d broken up, and he still didn’t know.

***

Claire didn’t stay long. After she left, Nick decided to call Kevin back, as eager to get some advice as Kevin was to talk about Kristin and the baby. He tried to be patient as he listened to Kevin finish telling his story about their latest appointment with Kristin’s obstetrician, and as soon as there was an opening, he said, “Hey, Kev… O Wise Older Brother… I got a dilemma.”

“A dilemma, huh?” echoed Kevin, sounding amused. Nick figured he was surprised to hear him use a word like “dilemma,” or maybe just flattered that Nick was actually asking him for advice before he could offer it… usually Kevin’s advice was self-imposed. In any case, Nick could tell he was smiling.

“Yeah, a dilemma,” he repeated. “Claire showed up at my house, right? And the reason she came was to bring me an invitation to her wedding. She said she wanted to give it to me in person.”

“Oh,” said Kevin, after a pause. “That had to be a little awkward, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nick snorted. “Definitely awkward. I mean, don’t get me wrong; she was nice about it and everything… she said she would understand if I didn’t to come, but she wanted to invite me anyway.”

“Yeah? So what’d you tell her?”

“I said I’d let her know later. That’s what I’m wondering, Kev… like, what do I do?? Do I go? Do I not go?? I… I dunno if I can handle just sitting there, watching her marry someone else… but I dunno if I can not go, you know? First of all, then it looks like I still have issues… which I guess I do, but hell, she doesn’t need to know that. Then I’d look pathetic. And I’d probably just sit at home or in some bar somewhere, thinking about it as it was happening. I just wouldn’t be there to see it. I dunno which would be worse.” He raked his hand through his hair, his stomach twisting.

Kevin exhaled slowly and audibly. “Maaan, Nick… I dunno what to tell ya. It’s really a decision you need to make on your own. You’re in a tough position… no one wants to see their girl marry someone else, but then she is your friend too… But she has to understand why you wouldn’t want to come. But you’d probably look like a bigger man if you came… show her you support her, even if you don’t like what she’s doing.”

Nick smirked; Kevin was straddling the fence just as much as he was. He wished the older man would have given him a clear answer one way or the other, the obvious choice that just hadn’t been so obvious to him. But Kevin was right; it was his decision to make. No one else could know exactly how he felt but him.

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “I know, dude; that’s all true. I dunno what I’m gonna do.”

“Well, you don’t have to decide right now. Sleep on it, okay? Give it a few days. You told her you’d let her know later, so you don’t have to give her an answer right away. And I’m sure she’ll understand, whatever you end up doing, so don’t worry about what she’s going to think. Think about your feelings too, okay, bud? I don’t want to see you get hurt even more for no reason.”

Nick smiled sadly and nodded. “Thanks, Kev. Sorry for dumping all the shit in my pathetic love life on you… I know you’ve got better things to think about.”

“No, no, it’s fine! I’m glad you called back, and you know I don’t mind. That’s what brothers are for, right?” asked Kevin in his “Dad” voice, and Nick smiled again. “You can come to me anytime. I’m just sorry I wasn’t more helpful. I just don’t know what you should do… I think that’s something only you can know.”

Nick nodded again. “Right. Well, I’ll think on it,” he said, absently twisting a piece of his shaggy hair around his finger. Suddenly, he remembered something else. “Oh! Kev, by the way… count me in for Thanksgiving, okay?”

“Sure, bro,” said Kevin, and again, Nick could tell he was smiling on the other end of the line. “I’ll tell Aunt Jackie to set a place for you.”

Nick smiled too. At least now he knew where he’d be spending Thanksgiving. The big question now was, where would he be on January twenty-fifth?

***