It Was Us Page 16

  “Roll up the sleeves,” Griffin said.

  I looked at him. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.” He stripped his shirt off his head and stepped out of his shorts.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He stood there, ass naked, and leaned over to turn the faucet on in the tub. “Showering this shit out of my hair.”

  FORTY SEVEN

  ABBY

  “There,” Tana said, putting the last bobby pin in place. She stared at me, her brow furrowed.

  “What? What's wrong?” I asked, my hands instantly flying to my hair.

  She swatted them away. “Don't touch it!”

  “Give me a mirror. I want to see.”

  She picked up the bottle of hairspray sitting on my desk and sprayed. The fumes went up my nose and clogged my throat and I coughed, my eyes beginning to water.

  “Stop it,” she ordered. “I've already done your make-up. You're gonna make your mascara run.”

  “Well, stop trying to kill me with the hairspray.”

  “So dramatic,” she said, shaking her head. “You'd think you were PMSing or something.” She eyes my stomach. “Which clearly could not be possible.”

  It was the Sunday of Labor Day weekend and we'd spent the last two hours getting me ready for the wedding. She'd come over after lunch and had gotten me dressed and done my hair and make-up. She was in finishing touches mode, because we were supposed to be out the door in five minutes.

  “Do I get to see myself or not?” I asked.

  She touched my hair, tweaking a few strands. “Yeah, yeah. Hang on.” She leaned close, her nose inches from mine. She stared at me and I could smell peppermint on her breath.

  “Well, this is awkward...”

  She grinned. “Shut up. I'm just checking your make up.” She straightened and disappeared and then brought me me the hand-held mirror from the bathroom. “Here,” she said. She thrust it in front of me.

  I couldn't help it. I smiled. Tana hadn't transformed me into someone else. She'd made me better. Soft, pretty make-up, pink and rosy and smoky eyelids that somehow managed to bring out the blue in my eyes even more. She'd curled my hair and swept it up on the sides and top, securing it so there was a cascade of brown curls down my shoulders and back.

  “Wow,” I managed to say. Through the mirror, I saw her nod in satisfaction.

  “Now you need to see the whole package. You in the dress.” She motioned for me to stand and, when I did, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the floor-length mirror mounted on the inside of my closet door.

  The dress was still perfect, even two months after buying it. And even though my stomach had grown, I hadn't entered 'beached whale' territory. The empire waist pushed my breasts up and the darts in the fabric softly showcased my growing tummy.

  “Here,” she said, rummaging through her purse. She withdrew a small velvet pouch. “I almost forgot.”

  She opened the pouch and handed me a pair of earrings. They were beaded, dangling earrings. “Something borrowed,” she said. “I thought they'd go nice with the neckline.”

  I felt my eyes well up with tears. “These are yours? Thank you.”

  “Well, I saw them in the store and thought they'd look perfect,” she said. “I haven't worn them yet, but technically they're mine so they can be your something borrowed, right?”

  I nodded, my eyes wet.

  “And do not cry,” she ordered, even though her own eyes glistened with tears. “Because I don't have time to fix your make-up if you do.”

  I laughed and blinked several times, trying to stem the tears. “I'm not.”

  “Good,” she said, nodding her head vigorously. She looped her purse over her shoulder. “Because this is no big deal. I mean, it is. But we're still best friends. Marriage and a baby isn't going to change any of that.”

  She sounded like she was saying it to convince herself, even though we both knew she was wrong. Our relationship had already changed, the minute we'd graduated and I'd met West. And then she'd gone to San Luis for school and we suddenly had five hours between us instead of five minutes. We were all too familiar with how life changed—sometimes when you didn't want it to and sometimes when you least expected it. But that was the thing. Life was supposed to change. Friendships were supposed to change.

  And I knew ours had—and would continue to—change for the better.

  Because Tana would always be my best friend.

  FORTY EIGHT

  WEST

  “You're gonna wear a path to China if you don't stop pacing.”

  I stopped and looked at Griffin. “What?”

  He grinned at me. “Chill out, bro. She's coming.”

  I smiled back but, inside, my nerves were all shot to hell. I was standing on the sand at Swamis, trying not to stare at the zig-zagging steps leading up to the top of the cliffs. Griffin had a book in his hands and was thumbing through it, his lips moving as he silently read the words to himself. He wore a blue and white Hawaiian shirt and a pair of matching blue board shorts. His hair was gel-free after his shower and stuck out at all angles from his head.

  I turned to the only other person waiting with us on the beach.

  “You didn't have to come,” I said.

  My mother looked at me and smiled. “My only son is getting married and having a baby. The least I could do was come back to San Diego to be a part of it.”

  I nodded. It had been three years since I'd seen my mom. Dad heading off to the slammer and me moving out had sort of sealed the deal for her; she wanted no part of the town that had torn her life apart. I hadn't been great about staying in touch with her. First, because of the anger, but as the months passed and she didn't try to contact me, it was more hurt that fueled my continued silence. And then, as months drifted into years, indifference. Abby had been the one to convince me to reach out to her, to let her know what was going on, to extend the invitation to be a part of our simple wedding ceremony. I hadn't expected a reply to my email and I certainly hadn't expected her to say yes.

  And yet here she was, standing next to me.

  “Look,” she said, folding her arms tighter over her chest and looking at me. I had her eyes. “I don't have an excuse for how I handled things after your dad—“

  I cut her off. “It's fine.”

  She shook her head. She had reddish hair and the late afternoon sun glinted off it, making it look like a fireball of red and orange waves on her shoulders. I'd always loved her hair. “It's not fine. I was hurt and I was desperate. I had no money, West. And I had to make some tough decisions.”

  I put up a hand to stop her. “I get it.”

  “But I want to explain.”

  “Now's not the time.” I didn't want to add that I wasn't sure there would ever be a time that I'd want to hear about it. It was the past and I was standing on a beach, waiting for Abby, ready to begin my future. My past had no place there.

  She took a deep breath, then nodded. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms, then crossed them again. “Well, I'm just happy to be here. For you. So thank you.”

  I nodded. A movement on the stairs caught my eye and I whipped my head fully in that direction, expecting to see Abby.

  Instead, a girl nearly identical in looks descended the stairs, gingerly navigating the steps in her stiletto heels. Even from a distance, I could hear Annika complain.

  “Jesus, are they trying to kill all of the wedding guests?”

  I wasn't sure who she was talking to since she was alone. But then her parents appeared at the top of the steps and began their own descent. Abby's mother held on to her husband's hand as they walked down, taking the steps one at a time, her mother leaning heavily against him. I swallowed as I watched her, worrying that maybe we'd chosen the wrong spot to get married, that maybe the steep terrain would be too hard on her weakened body.

  “Is that Abby's parents?” my mother asked.

  I nodded again.

  “And she has cancer?”


  I nodded again. “Started out as breast cancer. She's being treated for uterine cancer now. It spread.”

  My mother made a sympathetic face. “That must be hard for you. For you and Abby. What have the doctors said about her chances?”

  I shrugged. “They're always optimistic. She had a hysterectomy and they're pretty sure they got it all. She's going to do some chemo as part of her treatment plan.”

  I thought about the quick turn of events, how shortly after the 4th of July she'd received a request from her doctor to come back in. There'd been a spot on the PET scan that the doctors had somehow overlooked. She'd gone in for another scan and more blood work and that was when they'd discovered the cancer in her uterus. It was small, only Stage One Abby had said, but they weren't taking any chances. She'd gone in almost immediately for a full hysterectomy.

  Abby's inclination had been to postpone the wedding but her mom had been adamant. Keep the date. She'd be there, regardless. She'd talked about all of the reasons to go ahead with the wedding. She'd be healed from her surgery by then. She could postpone chemo treatment until right after the wedding. If they waited until after the baby was born, it might actually be harder.

  No one voiced the other worry weighing on everyone's minds, the worry that went without saying.

  Do it now. Because she might not be around to witness it if we waited.

  My mother excused herself and walked toward the stairs, presumably to introduce herself to Abby's parents. Annika made her way toward me, her heels still strapped to her feet, kicking up an insane amount of sand as she approached.

  “Who's idea was this, anyway?” she asked, lifting her sunglasses and staring at me.

  “The wedding? Uh, both of ours.”

  She shook her head. “No, you idiot. The beach.” She pointed to her shoes. “How the hell am I supposed to walk through sand in these?”

  “Take them off?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “And ruin my outfit?” She put a hand on her hip and pouted.

  I glanced at what she was wearing. A white skirt that barely covered her ass and a silky white tank top. Her heels were white, too, studded with rhinestones or something.

  She noticed me looking and smirked. “I wore white just for you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “For me?”

  She nodded. “Uh huh. In case my sister doesn't show...”

  “Yeah, when hell fucking freezes over.”

  Her pout returned. “Now, that's just hurtful. I was kidding, you nimrod.” She surveyed the beach and wrinkled her nose. “Is this it? No one else is coming?”

  “Nope.”

  We'd kept the guest list ridiculously small. Her parents, Griffin and Tana and, at her insistence, my mother. Annika had been added at the last minute.

  She shook her head again. “Seriously. If my sister and I weren't identical, I would question our relationship to each other.” With that, she lowered her sunglasses and teetered off in her heels.

  “How you could have ever confused her for your girlfriend is beyond me,” Griffin said under his breath.

  “Shut up.”

  “Just sayin'. What a fucking piece of work.”

  I turned toward him, my fist curling so I could fake punch him, when he let out a low whistle. “Wow,” he said, his eyes not on me but focused on the stairs.

  I whirled around. The stairs were still there and so were the palm trees that sprouted along the cliffs. But my future wife was there, too, a vision in white, her hand on the wooden rail as she slowly made her descent, her eyes on me.

  Smiling. Radiant. Beautiful.

  And all mine.

  FORTY NINE

  ABBY

  “Thank God you don't have a train,” Tana said from behind me. “These stairs are treacherous.”

  I gripped the railing tight. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “You're fine,” she said. “Wanna hold my hand?”

  I smiled and shook my head. My eyes were on the beach below us. There were a few people on the sand, a small group of teenage girls off to the right and a surfer pulling on a rash guard, his board propped next to him. But, otherwise, the beach was empty. Just my parents and my sister, a woman I didn't know but who I was pretty sure was West's mom, and Griffin.

  And West.

  West, whose eyes were locked on me, a smile spread wide across his face. West, who looked more handsome than ever in a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up just a little, the top two buttons undone, and khaki pants. No shoes, his feet barely visible in the soft sand. West, who was standing next to Griffin, his hands tucked behind his back, waiting for me to join him on the beach.

  I wanted to hurry, to propel myself down the stairs and launch myself into his arms and kiss him and hug him and recite the vows I'd written for him. But I forced myself to go slow, to take the stairs one step at a time, to focus on putting each foot forward. I was carrying precious cargo, cargo that was poking and prodding me in the ribs at that particular moment.

  I finally made it to the bottom of the stairs and my parents approached, both of them smiling. My dad wore khaki shorts and a black golf shirt and my mom had on a black and white floral sundress. She looked beautiful, not sick at all, and my breath hitched in my throat as I thought about everything we'd been through over the summer. I was glad the wedding was that weekend, that we'd decided to cave to Tana and Griffin's pressure, to just go ahead and do it. And I was glad that my mom was there to share in the moment with us.

  The woman standing next to them took a step toward me and held out her hand.

  “Elaine Montgomery,” she said. Her eyes were blue like West's and, when she smiled, a dimple appeared. Just like West.

  I took her hand and shook. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you for inviting me,” she said. A gentle breeze picked up a strand of her strawberry blond hair, teasing it forward, and she tucked it behind her ear. “I don't deserve it. So, thank you.”

  “Everyone deserves to be here,” I told her. “To celebrate with us.”

  She nodded. “Well, thank you.”

  My mom came over to me and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tighter than I could ever remember. “You look beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Don't make me cry,” I whispered back.

  She laughed in my ear, but held on. “I love you, Abby.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  She finally let go of me and I looked at my dad. His eyes were glistening and he brought a hand up to wipe quickly at them. Then he offered me his hand.

  “Since we aren't doing the altar thing, how about I walk you over to him?” he said.

  I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. That would be great.”

  He took my hand and squeezed it once, then offered me his arm, as much to steady myself as to give me away.

  “I don't think I ever would've been ready for this,” he said, squinting into the sun. “But I'm happy for you, Abby.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “And if I have to give you to anyone, I'm pretty sure you picked the right guy.”

  “I did. I promise.”

  He smiled at me and nodded.

  We reached West and Griffin standing near the water. Griffin was grinning like a fool and West looked...nervous. As handsome as ever. But nervous.

  My dad kissed me on the cheek, then gently lifted my arm from his. He stepped over to West, shook his hand, whispered something to him I couldn't hear, then hugged him. Finally, he stepped away, next to my mom and Annika.

  “Hey,” West said, smiling at me. “You showed up.”

  “You thought I might not?”

  “It crossed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, then reached for my hands. He held them both in his. “Because I never thought I'd get this lucky.”

  My heart fluttered and my face warmed. “You can't make me cry, West.”

  He stared at me, his eyes clear. “I'll do my best to never make you cry, Abby.”
>
  We stood there for a moment and I wanted to kiss him then. I thought about it. We were already breaking all kinds of traditions with this wedding. One more wouldn't have hurt.

  But I wanted to save the best for last.

  “You ready?” he asked, smiling. “To marry me?”

  “I am,” I said. “Absolutely.”

  He held onto my hands, but turned to Griffin. “You're up, dude.”

  Griffin smiled at both of us. “About damn time.”

  FIFTY

  WEST

  Not ever in my entire life would I have thought that Griffin would've been the perfect person to marry us.

  But he was.

  “Alright,” he said, his voice booming. “Everyone needs to, uh, gather around.”

  Annika looked around. “Where are the chairs?”

  “There aren't any,” Tana practically growled.

  Annika wrinkled her nose. “What kind of wedding is this?”

  I was pretty sure Tana was gonna bare her claws. “Your sister's, you idiot.”

  Griffin reached out a hand and gripped Tana's arm, using some sort of physical language to tell her to calm the hell down. Annika just sniffed and positioned herself close to her parents.

  “Alright,” Griffin continued. “First things first. Who brought the beer?” I shot him a quick look and he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning. “Kidding, dude,” he said.

  Abby smothered a giggle and I tightened my grip on her hand.

  Griffin cleared his throat. “Abby and West were surprised that I wanted to marry them,” he said. “Pretty sure they thought I was kidding when I told them I'd find a way to get certified so I could be the one to do their wedding. Well, there's a reason why I wanted to be the one to do it. And, no, not because I want them to name the kid after me—although that would totally be cool and I'm not above accepting that as belated payment.”

  A ripple of laughter ran through the small crowd gathered around us.

  “But there's another reason.” He brushed at his hair and I thought I heard his voice catch a little as he spoke. “See, there's no one here that wants to see them married more than I do. Over the last two years, there's never been any doubt in my mind that this is where they'd end up. Abby and West love each other, more than anyone I know. And even though they've had their share of ups and downs, there has been one thing that has stayed consistent: their love for each other. It's been an eye-opener for me. Because, before seeing these two together, I wasn't quite sure true love still existed. And now I know. Without a doubt.”