H is for Hawk (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Gerry said. “It was mostly me, Finn, and Aiden for that one. We did that while Deacon and Carter did the DJ stage. Then we went about doing the arch, which took all of us.”

The arch stood between the two stages, just under the porch. Apparently, Dee and I were going to be introduced through it, coming into the party from the rumpus room Carter had built underneath the porch for the kids to play in when they got a bit older.

“Speak of the devil,” Finn said, looking at his phone. “Deacon just texted to see if I can help him move something. I’ll be back.”

“Need any help?” I asked.

“No.” He grinned. “It’s your party. You enjoy it.”

I nodded, and Finn left, leaving Gerry and me to ourselves.

“You know,” Gerry said, looking out over the still, peaceful backyard before the festivities began, “if you ever need any help or advice, I want you to know my door is always open.”

“I appreciate that,” I said.

“Even if you just want someone to go grab a beer with,” he said. “I like hanging out with you. I don’t want you to think our friendship is only because of the ladies.”

“Agreed. And same goes for me. I might take you up on all that.”

Gerry smiled and clinked his glass to mine again.

“Here’s to that,” he said.

As we downed the drink, the screen door opened behind us, and I turned to see Wendy.

“Okay, so, Dee is downstairs. She doesn’t want you to come down there and see her until everyone else is here,” she said.

“Alright,” I said. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” she said. “Just nervous. It’s almost like this is her wedding.”

“It is. I feel it too.”

“Look,” Wendy said, stepping closer as Gerry stepped inside, “I wanted to talk to you before the wedding and didn’t really get a chance. I wanted to apologize again for my role in you two being separated for so long.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand. You were protecting your friend.”

“I just feel awful about it,” she said. “And I wanted you to know that I did all this”—she gestured to the yard— “to kind of try to make up for it a little bit. I love Dee. She’s my best friend. And you have been good to her. I just want us to be friends and not have any bad feelings.”

“Wendy, I forgive you,” I said. “If you forgive me for not being particularly smart about things.”

I opened my arms, and Wendy came in for a quick, tight hug.

“All good?” she asked.

“All good,” I said. “Now, let’s party.”

26

DEE

Walking out into the crowd of our friends and family was nerve-racking, to say the least. Wendy had brought me to the house and then to the room where I would wait a good hour or so before anyone else showed up. They had redone the room, which was supposed to be for the kids to use as they grew up as a playroom with access to the backyard, into a kind of lounge.

I sat, somewhat uncomfortably in my dress, on the couch and tried to relax. The television bolted onto the wall was playing cartoons, but I was finally able to figure out the remote and change it to a cooking show. It was one of the British ones, where everything was calm and peaceful. It was certainly better for my nerves than the loud crashing sounds of the cartoon.

Still, I was struggling a bit to relax, and when Wendy returned a while later, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with a tissue, my eyes went directly to her other hand. There was a bottle of wine and a glass being held by the base of the stem in it. Considering we had spent a fair amount of the last week occasionally tearing up, I wasn’t as concerned about the tears as I was about whether she meant that glass for me or herself.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Wendy nodded, sitting the glass down on the coffee table in front of me and then pulling the corkscrew out of the top of the bottle.

“Yes,” she said. “Hawk is a very sweet man. I am glad you two finally got together.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Now, how about some wine?” she asked, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand and putting on a smile.

“I would love that.”

Wendy poured a half of a glass, paused, and shrugged, then filled the rest of it. She handed it to me, and I accepted gratefully, taking a big sip. When I finally opened my eyes again after relishing in the soft burn going down my throat, I looked at Wendy expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” I asked.

Wendy looked down at the bottle for a moment, then pulled it to her lips and tipped the whole thing back, taking down a couple of big gulps.