Nash’s hand resting on my thigh pulls me out of my anxiety. “You’re going to be great.” Her eyes are full of encouragement. It’s like her hand is soaking up all of my worries.
I kiss her on the cheek before rising. “Thanks, sugar.”
When the wedding coordinator approaches me, she asks, “You good to go?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
The DJ gets on his mic and introduces me. “Let’s welcome Mr. Wyatt Vandergriff, the best man!”
People clap and I can’t help but think about how much clapping you do in one night at a wedding. More than any other night, but probably less than a concert. I’m just thinking about stupid shit to distract myself as the DJ hands me the microphone.
“Hello,” I say, and immediately it’s way too loud. My eyes flash to where Nash is sitting, and she moves both her hands down in a stay calm gesture. “For those of you who don’t know me,” I start, and God, why hasn’t anyone invented any other way to start this speech? “My name is Wyatt Vandergriff and I’m Henry’s younger brother. I could talk about Henry and what a good guy he is and how much fun we’ve had throughout our lives as brothers, but tonight I want to focus on who we all know is the star of the show,” I turn more towardher, and away from the audience so I can address her. “Hazel, hi.”
“Hi,” she says back.
“Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” A light wave of laughter ripples through the crowd.
“I’m assuming you’ll be living in Henry’s house on Vandergriff Farm, so I’ve selected a few things I think you’ll need to make your life easier.” I hold my hand out and Grant plops a wooden spoon in it. I take it from him and hand it to a surprised Hazel. “Growing up, Ma and Pa popped us with one of these when we were misbehaving. I just thought you’d like to have one of your own for when Henry steps out of line. Check the handle.” She does and a laugh bursts out of her. “I had Vandergriff engraved on it so you don’t confuse this one with any other wooden spoons you might have in your kitchen.” I address Henry now. “So next time you want to have ice cream before dinner, or a beer when it’s too early to start drinking, you’d better think twice.” I hold my hand out for the next item. It’s just a sign the size of a regular sheet of paper. I hold it facing out so the crowd can see it, and there’s another round of laughter.Hell yeah.I’m killing this. I let the crowd laugh their fill and then turn so Hazel and Henry can see it.
“Dude, what?” Henry asks incredulously.
“We all know that when Henry gets to talking, it’s sometimes hard to get him to stop. That’s why I drew you this sign that just says ‘shut up’.” Pause for laughter… “I also got it laminated so he can’t “accidentally” spill his drink on it. Next time he’s going off about the newest crypto he’s going to invest in, or how badly his fantasy football team is losing, you can just whip this bad boy out.”
Henry puts his head in his hands.
“And for my final gift…”
“Thank God,” Henry moans. I don’t know what he expected. Everyone knows that the perfect best man speech pokes fun at the groom and compliments the bride.
One last time I gesture to Grant to hand me the cherry on top of my perfect speech. “Finally, I have for you a Wyatt Vandergriff Houston Hurricanes game-worn jersey, signed by yours truly. By marrying into this family, you are granted immediate entry to my personal fan club.” Pause for effect. “I am also promoting you to vice president of said fan club. Behind my wonderful girlfriend, Nash, who is, of course, the president.” I pretend to cover the microphone and talk just to Hazel. “We’ll iron out the details of what that will mean for you later,” and then back to everyone, “but for now, I know you’lllovewearing a Hurricanes jersey in Butcher territory.” My grin is FDA certified because I’ve got this crowd eating out of the palm of my hand. Grant pulls a second jersey from behind the table and hands it to Henry. “Don’t worry, bro. I got you one too.”
When the laughter dies down, I bring it home. “But seriously, you guys are so great together. I know this is going to be a long marriage full of joy and laughter. I’m so happy for both of you.” I raise my water glass, “Cheers to the new Vandergriffs.”
“Cheers,” the crowd says in reply. The sounds of delicately clinking glasses fills the space and the DJ comes on the mic to welcome Hazel’s sister to do her maid of honor speech. I stand and listen to her talk about how wonderful her sister is, and how everyone loves her, and cringe a little when I realize that she didn’t fully prepare for this. She’s kind of just up there rambling. She ends her speech the same as mine, asking everyone to raise a glass for the new Mr. and Mrs.
The DJ announces that the dance floor is now open, and I make a straight shot to the bar.
I jump when Nash comes up to me from behind and rests the side of her face on my back. “You were amazing! Everyone was cracking up.”
I suck in a deep, dramatic breath knowing she can feel it in my chest. “I’m just glad my job is done.” I take my beer from the bartender in one hand, and turn Nash around me with the other. “Is now a good time for that talk?”
The first notes of “YMCA” play over the speakers, and Henry appears besides me taking me and Nash both by a hand as he pulls us onto the dance floor. “Come on,” he says, “it’s your job to help get the party started.”
I look at Nash, just for a second. She’s already letting Henry bring her onto the dance floor, head bopping to the beat. And I let myself be pulled too. Now’s not the right time.
We groove to whatever songs come on, family members and friends moving in and out of our little dance circle, but the whole time I’m watching Nash. She looks so free tonight. Like the weight of the Moons and our fake relationship are off her shoulders. Like she took everything on her own and made it succeed with the sheer force of her will, and now she’s out here dancing like she’s celebrating more than just Henry and Hazel.
“We’re going to take it down now, folks,” the DJ says in a sultry voice, and the first few notes of a slow song comes on. I put my empty beer down on the nearest table and pull Nash into my arms. I’ve barely had a chance to talk to her today. “I missed you,” I say, my breath coasting over the shell of her ear making her shiver.
“I missed you, too.”
“I saw you sitting with Layla.”
“Yeah,” she nods. “She’s really cool. I was wrong to be jealous of her. That was immature of me.”
“What about taking it out on me?” I ask petulantly.