Southern Legitimacy Statement: I currently live in West Virginia, which is in that grey area between the Mid-Atlantic and the South, so I believe I qualify to submit to this journal.
Anyone but Annie
Chester’s suit was too tight, especially while he was seated. He adjusted himself as subtly as he could while the wedding’s key players made their way down the aisle in pairs. The groomsmen wore leather suspenders and he thought they looked folksy and a bit ridiculous, like Hobbits. Each was accompanied by a bridesmaid clad in sage green. Together they stepped onto the stage and stood on either side of the officiant.
There was a palpable feeling of anticipation—a nervousness conducted like electricity through the guests with each self-conscious interaction. But, as his friend Dan had pointed out during the drive, their only job as guests was to be there and have a good time.
Chester looked up at the trees. A breeze had green leaves waving. Above them, a pure blue sky. At the rear of the proceedings, a trio of string musicians was playing a rendition of “Here, There, And Everywhere.”
He leaned in close to Dan, seated to his left. “I’m a little stoned.”
“I’m shocked,” said Dan.
“How about the valet? Fancy, huh?”
With a knowing frown, Dan nodded as if to say, “What did you expect?”
“It’s all very ritualistic isn’t it,” said Chester, keeping his voice low. “These public displays of love.”
“It’s very ritualistic,”
“Who are they trying to convince? Each other?”
People continued to file into the first few rows of metal fold out chairs: the flower girls, tiny, throwing petals; the bride’s sheepish younger brother arm in arm with some ancient relative; the mother of the bride in a lavender dress beaming like it was her wedding. She’d planned it, he’d heard, so in a way, it was. The couple’s black shepherd, leashed to a charitable volunteer, tried to sniff everything in its path. It wore a collar of white flowers for the occasion.
Then everyone rose. Chester followed the collective gaze and waited for the bride to appear. Annie was shy, like him, and he wondered if she’d be blushing from the attention. But she was not blushing. She was smiling an ethereal smile, a queen’s smile, and he felt relieved. He hadn’t seen her since the beginning of summer. Her hair, always so much hair, was wavy, golden, full. As she and her father promenaded through the gauntlet, all the guests disappeared and it was Chester standing at the altar, anticipating her. Annie was nodding at people, acknowledging them, and when she met Chester’s eyes, he saw something wry in her face and he looked down at his loafers. When he looked up again, she had passed him. She hugged her father before joining the blandly handsome groom center stage.
“Please be seated,” said the officiant. He looked like a news anchor in his crisp blue suit.
Chester swallowed dryly. They had not served drinks before the ceremony. The bride’s face was hidden behind a curtain of her hair as she said her vows, but he could hear her crying. She addressed this and there was a ripple of encouraging laughter from the crowd. In spite of himself, Chester’s eyes were wet. He didn’t dare look at Dan but assumed he was crying too; sniffles were coming from everywhere. Both bride and groom used the term “adventurous spirit” to describe one another, and before long, the union was complete.
#
There was a rush for the bar. Deterred by the crowd, Chester hung back, scanning the party for familiar faces. He spotted Jean, a friend of Annie’s he hadn’t seen since high school. When they were fifteen, Chester, Jean, and Dan had joined Annie and her family on vacation at an expensive winter resort. On New Year’s Eve, heads swimming from wine, the four of them had sprawled on a California King. Chester and Annie were facing each other, dozing. He asked if he could put his arm over her.
“It’s more comfortable,” he said.
“Sure,” she said, and they fell asleep and remained that way until morning.
#
On his way back to his table from the buffet line, Chester saw Annie. She had twisted in her chair to look at him. Silverware winked on the white tablecloths.
“Can I say hello to the bride?” Chester said as he approached her table, balancing his plate of food. He had finally gotten a drink and was feeling much better.
“Yeah,” Annie said. They smiled at each other.
“Are you having a nice time?” Chester asked.
“Yes. Is this the suit you got in Thailand?” Annie asked.
Her husband, seated to her left, was lost in jovial conversation with his best man.
“Yes. No! Vietnam. I got it in Vietnam. It’s a little snug though,” said Chester, making a face.
“It looks great. You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you. Gorgeous. Come to the cool kids’ table when you get a minute.”
“I will.”
#
After they’d eaten, the newlyweds made the rounds. When they visited Chester’s table, Dan’s gregariousness absorbed much of their attention while Chester focused on cutting his meat. He nodded and said hello to the groom beside Annie, hoping his smile wasn’t too tight. The groom returned the smile, but it felt cold, obligatory, and Chester was reminded of the first and only other time they had met.
Chester was back in town for Christmas and had braved the icy roads in his father’s truck to “meet the gang,” as Annie had put it. The gang was Annie’s two cats, their black shepherd, and her new man—her fiancé. Throughout their little dinner party, her fiancé spent more time interacting with his dog than with Chester, causing Chester to wonder if Annie had told him what had happened. When two people get serious, do they tell each other everything? Do they keep anything for themselves? Did he know about the hotel in Montreal when they were nineteen? How they’d stayed up drinking cheap sherry and watching Apocalypto and when the movie was finally over, Chester had kissed her and they’d made drunken love? Did she tell him about the Plan B?
#
After the toasts, the guests poured into the dance hall. Chester found Dan with a cluster of other high school friends in the back corner. Behind them, wine casks sat in neat rows. He set his glass of beer on a cocktail table and watched the guests arrange themselves in an informal circle around the dance floor.
The DJ picked up the microphone. “Please welcome… Mr. and Mrs. Broowwwnnn!” The crowd cheered. Holding hands, the newlyweds strolled to the center of the floor. Percussive acoustic guitar notes descended and the couple began to sway, her arms around his neck, his at her waist. Chester recognized the song immediately, and the emotion of it shocked him. Early in his twenties, he’d picked up an Extreme record at a thrift store after hearing “More Than Words” in a tattoo parlor. To Chester, the song sounded inevitable, as if the musicians had simply released it from God. Annie was one of the only people he knew with a record player, so he’d gifted the album to her. He didn’t remember if it was for her birthday or Christmas. Maybe no occasion at all. She was pleased, and as she turned it over to read the track listings, Chester pointed out his favorite one.
The newlyweds kissed and everyone whooped and clapped. Chester stood, his brow furrowed. Annie must’ve known what she was doing to him. He had a suspicion she’d always carried a torch for him, but was this confirmation? Was there any spite in her choosing that song for the first dance at her wedding? A sort of “could have been us?” Or had Chester simply introduced her to the song, which later resonated with her now husband? Mercifully, the song transitioned to “The Best of My Love,” and several guests advanced onto the dance floor.
“C’mon!” Jean grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the throng.
“I’m just going to lose the blazer!” he yelled over the music, pulling his hand away and stepping outside. He shook himself out of his jacket and draped it over an empty chair before a metal firepit. The fire was very orange and leaping around in the dark. Across from him, a woman sat on a couch with a toddler on her knee.
Chester walked vaguely towards the woods, down a steep driveway, past the catering truck, before ducking under a branch and out of sight. He unzipped his fly and relieved himself, leaning against a tree trunk. The bark felt rough against his shoulder. He pressed harder into it, imagining the tree’s fissures leaving a pink impression in his skin.
When Chester joined the dance floor, “Music Sounds Better with You” was playing. Jean saw him and her face lit up. She began to unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt. Chester looked at Dan, grooving, sweaty, who gave a little shrug and a laugh. His shirt was unbuttoned too. With alcohol burning his brain, Chester lost himself in the music. Annie was there too, cutting a rug in her white gown. He wondered if she felt their gravitational pull.
#
The music stopped too soon; always too soon. Midnight had come and gone. Guests lingered and parted. It was decided that the close friends of the bride and groom would convene at their new house for an afterparty. Whoever was deemed the most sober drove full cars of exhilarated guests along vacant suburban roads.
Annie’s house was surrounded by tall trees. Chester noted the silver Mercedes in the driveway, the intricate tile work in the kitchen. The groom and his groomsmen shared a joint on the back patio while Chester, Dan, Jean, and Annie danced in the kitchen to nostalgic 2000s R&B.
“G-L-A-M. O-R. O-U-S…”
The stink of weed wafted in through the window. Grooving in the kitchen with a can of beer and his old friends, Chester felt like he was back in high school.
#
It was three in the morning when Dan suggested they call a taxi. Chester thought about staying, but for what he didn’t know. Dan had said his goodbyes and went outside to flag down the car. Chester found Annie in the kitchen, still dancing with Jean. Annie had changed out of her wedding gown into a sort of bridal cocktail dress. She was all smiles, jubilant. Drunk, but happy.
“I’m leaving,” he said.
Her face fell. “Oh no…”
“Yeah. Dan got a cab, so…”
She walked with him down the hall to the front door. It was the first time all night they had been alone.
“I’ll see you soon?” said Annie.
“Well, no. I go back to New York next week. Tuesday actually. I’ll be back for the holidays, though.” Chester remembered Dan waiting in the car. “Thank you so much,” he said. “I had a great time.”
“Thank you so much for coming.”
They hugged.
“Love you,” he said, speaking close to her ear.
“See you at Christmas?” she said.
“Yeah.”
They looked at each other. There was always that moment when they parted, when he felt like there was more that could be said.
Chester turned and walked swiftly down the steps towards the taxi. He opened the car door and Dan scooted over to accommodate him.
“Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem,” said Dan, fiddling with his cellphone.
Chester settled into his seat and looked out the window. A figure was walking towards them. It was Jean, still wearing her long, green dress. She stopped at the edge of the driveway, twenty feet away. “See you guys,” she said. There was a twinge of annoyance in her voice.
“Should we get out?” asked Chester.
“No, no. Let’s go,” said Dan.
“See you in ten years,” said Jean. “See you never.”
“Sorry, Jean. We gotta go,” said Chester. He felt guilty for leaving without saying goodbye to anyone but Annie. But the car was already pulling away.
