Fallout (55 page)

EVERYTHING ACCOMPLISHED

And as pretty as I’m going to get,

Aunt Cora and I arrive at the church.

It’s filling already. Most everyone,

of course, is either related to or

a friend of Liam. Our herd is much

smaller. I’m glad Bryce will be there

on the Shepherd side. There he is,

in fact, standing alone, in back.

Aunt Cora goes off to the dressing

room, gown hidden beneath a plastic

bag. “I’ll be right there,” I call. Then

I go over to Bryce. “Glad you made it.”

His eyes light up.
You look great.

But I feel like a fish out of water.

I guess you can’t sit with me, huh?

“I have to stand up in front and hold

Aunt Cora’s bouquet. But I’ll sit

with you at the reception.” I should

introduce him to some people.

There’s Micah, too handsome

in his tux. No, not him. Not sure why.

IT’S AN EXERCISE IN FUTILITY

First, I’m having a hard time

remembering everyone’s names.

And as I struggle to label faces,

Micah comes over to, uh … help?

First he gives me a major once-

over.
Whoa now. Don’t you look

kind of amazing?
He ignores

my intense blush, turns to Bryce.

Don’t believe we’ve met. You

must be a friend of the bride?

But before Bryce can respond

(and say what? Sort of? Not exactly?),

Grandfather’s semi-feeble

screech interrupts,
Holy shit

on a shingle. Look who’s here.

Can’t believe they had the nerve.

Conversation skids to a halt

as everyone assesses the new

arrivals—a stately older woman,

dressed to the nines. Her face

is familiar, but I would struggle

to place it, if not for the younger

man beside her. I haven’t seen

him in years. But I know who he is.

And if he is Trey, she must be

his mom. I’ve seen Maureen in Aunt

Cora’s photo album, her face

less creased then, and her hair

the color of mine. It’s gray now.

They approach Grandfather warily.

The three pull away into a corner.

The room echoes angry drifts of

accusation. Explanation. Denial.

I should go mediate. I should go tell

Aunt Cora trouble’s brewing.

But what I really want to do is run.

RUN, FLEE, FLY

The attack is sudden.

I am a rabbit, surrounded

by starved coyotes.

And like the hare,

certain

death is near, my pulse

guns. Accelerates,

hot flame in my veins.

Nears the point

of misfire.

They say, when facing

the onslaught of tooth

and claw, a creature’s

heart can simply quit.

My heart

issues a warning, and

though I keep my feet,

my brain disconnects.

A black ghost swirls,

threatens

to suck me inside.

Voices. All around me.

Can’t see who they

belong to, but I want them

to stop.

Stop. Slow. Silence.

GENTLE SHAKING

I am swimming up.

Voices make me want

to dive back down.

… you all right?
Bryce.

… coming out of it.
Micah.

… be okay now.
Grandfather.

… freaking weird.
Anonymous.

I am making an awful

scene at Aunt Cora’s

wedding. Oh my God.

… family resemblance.
Maureen?

Hell, yeah. Just like me.
Trey.

Leave her be.
Grandfather.

What’s going on here?
Preacher.

I am lifted. Supported.

Directed to a chair.

Someone hands me water.

I am mortified.

I AM ALSO CLAUSTROPHOBIC

With all these people clustered

around me. I feel like a grape,

being squashed into juice.

“Could I please have some air?”

Everyone takes one step back.

I can’t help but stare at Trey.

His dark hair is shot through

with silver. More salt than pepper.

The skin on his face is deeply

etched with a web of lines.

His eyes—black walnut—

are familiar. They are Grandfather’s.

He takes my interest as an invitation

to move closer again. Bryce stops

him with a hand to the arm.
Excuse

me, but she asked for a little room.

Trey shakes Bryce’s grip.

Excuse me, boy, but I haven’t

seen my daughter in a long time.

I’m just taking a little inventory.

Bryce looks at me with eyes

brimming confusion.
Daughter?

Autumn, is he saying he’s your father?

Because you told me …

I told him my parents were dead.

Why did I ever say that? Because

I never believed I’d have to tell

him the truth. “I—I’m sorry. It’s just …”

Grandfather, who has no idea

who Bryce is, or what I said to him,

nevertheless attempts rescue.

He’s never been a father to her.

Trey steps toward Grandfather,

on a collision course.
And you
,

old man, were never a father to me.

THINGS ARE MOVING

Light-year speed toward implosion.

Guests are turning around in their seats,

wondering what the commotion is.

The ushers push closer, suspecting trouble.

The minister bobs this way and that,

unsure of what to do next. Grandfather

and Trey are close to blows, and

Maureen is clucking like an old hen.

Bryce and Micah are measuring each

other, and the situation. Liam sputters,

then runs off to tell Aunt Cora that things

are going to hell. “Stop it!” I plead.

“You’re ruining Aunt Cora’s day. Can’t

all this wait? Can’t we at least pretend

to be a family, for her sake?” Silence

swells. Fists unclench. People return

to their places. Still, as the organ

begins to play, anger looms louder.

Aunt Cora appears, beautiful despite

the worry stamped into her face.

Maureen and Trey give her hugs,

then allow Micah to usher them forward.

Grandfather takes Aunt Cora on his arm.

Liam follows his best man to the altar.

That is my cue. I turn to tell Bryce

I’ll see him after the ceremony, but

he is nowhere in sight. The wedding

march begins. No time to look for him

now. I play my maid of honor role

exactly as rehearsed. As the ceremony

progresses, I steal sideways glances

toward the guests, but cannot spy Bryce.

What did I expect? That he’d never

discover the truth? That the shadows

of my messed-up life would never

appear in the face of his sunshine?

Through the pounding surf in my ears,

a watery,
You may now kiss the bride.

My eyes overflow. Tears of joy for Aunt

Cora. The usual kind of tears for me.