We all took our turns kissing the bride and shaking the hand of the groom. When Dad and I approached, Anita made the introductions tonelessly, without the slightest hint of what I had once been to her. As I kissed her cheek I remembered the days when I used to kiss her everywhere, when I used to make love to her on her bed, in her shower, when I used to put my head between her legs. Anita had still never been topped in the bedroom department. I knew Jack was a happy man.
"Congratulations Anita," I told her sincerely. "I'm very happy for you."
"Thank you Bill," she replied, her eyes meeting mine. "I'm very happy too."
Champagne was poured, toasts were made, the band kicked up the volume and the pace. Dancing was started. Anita danced with Jack, with Jack's best man, with her son, with several others. Finally she approached me and grabbed my hand.
"Care for a dance with the bride?" she asked lightly.
I looked at her for a moment and then said, "of course." I stood and we went to the dance floor.
We grabbed each other's hands and began to move to the music, swinging our hips. Around us, other combinations of couples were doing the same. Anita was smiling at me nervously and I wondered just why she had done this. A part of me was afraid she was going to ask me to resume our previous relationship despite her marriage.
"I haven't had a chance to talk to you," she said quietly, "since that last day. That day you came over to my house."
I nodded carefully. "I thought it best if we didn't."
"And you were right," she told me. "I wanted to tell you I was sorry for the way I acted on those last few weeks. That I'm ashamed of what I said to you, what I did, how desperate I was. Very ashamed. And I appreciate your discretion in keeping your mouth closed about it all of this time. When I look back on those times…" she shook her head sadly. "I just wanted to let you know that I understand what you did and why you did it, from the very first day we… you know, to the very last day when you had to come and explain the facts of life to me."
"You don't have to apologize or explain anything Anita," I told her. "It's me who is very sorry for doing such a sleazy thing in the first place. I've grown up since then and I'll never do that to anyone again. I'm glad you met someone to love, who loves you."
She offered me a strange smile. "Yes," she said. "Jack and I seemed meant for each other. We're very happy." A pause. "But something bothers me."
"What's that?"
"You knew his name," she said. "On our last night together, you asked me about him. You asked me by name. How did you know Bill? How did you know?"
We continued to dance while I considered my actions. "I can't tell you Anita. It's too difficult to fathom anyway. Let's just say that you and Jack were fated to be married and that I almost screwed that up by interfering. But now things are right and I'm very happy for you."
"Thank you," she said.
I led her over to the edge of the dance floor and positioned my body so that nobody could see what we were doing. I reached into the inner pocket of my suit jacket and withdrew a wrapped package. It was long and skinny, the box originally designed to hold a set of drumsticks. I handed it to her.
"What's this?" she asked, taking it.
"I was going to slip it into the wedding gifts," I said. "The card simply says it's from "fate". It's something I thought you might like to have. You can do with it what you wish of course but after talking to you, I think you deserve to get it personally."
She looked at me for a moment, her mouth open to ask another question. She closed it, the question unasked, and began to open the wrapping paper. She slid the box out and lifted the lid, peering at what I had for her. She stared for a long time, her eyes wide.
Inside the box was the coil wire I'd taken from her car on the day I lured Jack and her to the house. I don't know why I kept it. I should've just thrown it away, its job done. But I hadn't. I'd taken it out of my jacket pocket and put it in my closet until the day before.
"Is that…?" she asked slowly.
"A coil wire," I confirmed.
"Then you were the one…" she stared at me, eyes wide. "You?"
I shook my head. "Not me. Fate. And only fate Anita. Enjoy your marriage. I wish you all the best. I really do."
I walked away from her with a smile on my face, leaving her to quickly shove the coil wire back into the box and hide it. Shortly after that, Dad and I left. Anita moved away from her house after returning from her honeymoon. A rental company took over management of it. I never saw her again. But I'd achieved closure to that part of my life and that was what was important.
When we got home Mom was listening to the radio and working on some paperwork. Though she'd worked at home during her absence from her job during Tracy's recuperation, she was apparently still far behind. Rarely did we see her without a sheaf of papers and computer printouts before her. She asked us about the ceremony and seemed genuinely interested in our answers. I asked where Tracy was, since I had not seen her in her room, and was told that she was in the back yard, practicing her walking.
I went upstairs and changed out of my suit, replacing it with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. By the time I finished and emerged from my room, Mom and Dad were both missing, their bedroom door tightly shut. Like most kids I pained myself not to speculate too much on just what they were doing in there but like most adults I realized the effect that attending weddings tended to have. I was feeling such an effect myself.
I gave Nina a call, hoping we could get together for a bit but this idea was shot down the instant I got her on the phone. An aunt from Moses Lake was visiting for the day, had come specifically to see Nina and give her a late graduation gift. Nina was trapped at home for the foreseeable future. With a sigh I helped myself to one of my Dad's beers and wandered out to the back yard where Tracy was before I was forced to hear any noise drifting out of Mom and Dad's room.
Our back yard was typical for the period in which our house was built. Considerably larger than what tract houses come with today, it was landscaped with the bare essentials. There was a large lawn, an elm tree that was large enough to climb in if you wished (and that dumped an incredible amount of leaves to the ground each fall), some brick flowerbeds that my mother had rose bushes planted and growing wild in. There was a small cement patio with a cover over it. A barbecue and some simple patio furniture sat upon it. Dad had often talked about installing a swimming pool and a hot tub but had never become quite financially irresponsible enough to actually do it. A pity.
Tracy was wearing a college T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Her right leg was clamped into a set of metal braces that looked like something out of the Spanish Inquisition. A large, metal cane apparatus was attached to her right arm and helped support her weight as she ambled along. She was dripping sweat, her face running with it, her T-shirt stained with it, and her face was scrunched in a painful expression as she hobbled in what appeared to be a circular course around the old elm tree where Mike and I had once built a tree-fort thirty feet above the ground.
"How's it going Trace?" I asked her, grabbing a seat at the table and setting my beer down next to a glass of ice water that Tracy had put there. A fly had fallen into the water and was struggling weakly between two ice cubes.
"Hey," she hailed, changing course immediately and heading my way. "This hurts like hell. But not as much as when I first tried it. I'm getting better I think. But I'm ready for a break now. More than ready." She wiped sweat from her brow, moving her damp hair from her forehead. "How was the wedding?"
"Boring," I answered, "like all weddings. But I was glad to go. It's nice to see that Anita is happy. We also had a chance to have a little talk."