Chapter Text
When Mike and James walked into the store, they both had the same dumb confidence in their heads: they’d get this done fast and be out in no time. I mean, how hard could a suit be? Pants, shirt, vest, bow tie, jacket. That was it. Five minutes, tops.
The second they stepped inside, both of them realized they had been very, very wrong.
Because apparently there was no such thing as just a black suit. There were forty different blacks in there, all almost identical, all somehow very different in ways that were clearly supposed to matter.
James looked around in the first minute and immediately made a face.
“Look at this,” he muttered. “They built this whole system just to wear us out. What do you mean there are forty versions of the same color? We are simple creatures, man.”
Mike swallowed. “We can still handle this. How hard can it be, Cortez?”
“Hope you’re right, hermano.”
Once the sales associate found out they were shopping for the groom and best man, she started asking more specific questions. What kind of wedding was it? How classic did they want the look to be? How closely did the groom and best man need to match?
Mike took that part more seriously than James had expected.
“Nothing too flashy,” he said. “I want it to look clean. Clearly wedding, but not over the top. We should match pretty closely. The difference should come through in the smaller details.”
The associate nodded. “That usually works best. Same suit, same shirt, same bow tie. Then we build in the difference through the smaller accessories. Sometimes even something as simple as a different shirt stud for the groom is enough. That’s a very popular approach.”
Then she explained a little more.
“The groom’s boutonniere is usually tied to the bridal bouquet. It tends to be a little more prominent, a little more classic. The pocket square can also be tied to the feel of the dress or the main wedding color. With the best man, the detail works a little differently. His accessories should still coordinate with the groom, but they can also tie into the maid of honor’s side. That way, when you’re standing next to each other, you still look like part of the same wedding, but the difference reads right away.”
James raised an eyebrow. “So I’m working both sides.”
The associate smiled. “In a way, yes.”
“For example, the two of you would look very polished in the same black suit, the same white shirt, and the same bow tie. The groom would wear the boutonniere tied to the bride’s bouquet, and the best man would wear one tied to the maid of honor’s flowers. If the maid of honor’s dress or accessories already suggest a color, we can echo that in the pocket square. If not, or if her dress is dark, we can let the floral piece do that work instead. That way, the best man still looks like he belongs beside the groom, but he also doesn’t look visually disconnected when he’s standing next to the maid of honor.” Then she added, in a more casual tone, “And of course, you know, you’ll be walking with her during the ceremony. So it’s always nice when there’s some visual harmony there.”
The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched.
James did not look at him. Not even once. Because the second he did, he already knew exactly what kind of expression he was going to find on Mike’s face.
So instead, he kept his eyes on the associate, as if this were purely a conversation about fabric and flowers and nothing else.
“Yeah,” he said in an impressively calm voice. “Makes sense.”
Mike’s smile deepened just a little. A short laugh slipped out through his nose.
This time James spoke under his breath, still not looking at him.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
In a perfectly innocent tone, Mike said, “I didn’t say anything.”
James tipped his head the slightest bit to the side. “If this is you not saying anything...”
By the time Mike got the first suit into the fitting room, he already knew this wasn’t going to be a five-minute job. He took the vest off the hanger and pulled it on, and almost immediately he was swearing under his breath.
“Why is the back of this vest like this?” he said out loud.
James’s voice came from outside. “Because the fashion industry may genuinely hate us.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Grumbling under his breath, Mike tried to fix the vest. The fabric kept bunching in the wrong places, and the back strap had somehow twisted around. For a few seconds, he just stood there wrestling with it on his own. Then he let out a breath and made himself calm down. There was no point taking any of this out on James, so he kept his mouth shut.
A second later, James called from outside, sounding actually curious.
“You okay in there?”
“I’m fine.”
Even Mike could hear how unconvincing that sounded, but he didn’t bother fixing it. Once he finally got the vest sitting right, he put on the jacket, opened the fitting room door, and stepped out.
His first thought was that it didn’t look bad.
A black suit was a safe choice anyway. The shirt fit well. The vest, at the very least, did not look humiliating. The bow tie worked. The jacket fit him, too. When he looked in the mirror, his first reaction was, Okay. This could work.
Then he looked at James.
James did not say anything right away, and Mike did not like that. Because if James was not immediately making fun of something, it usually meant he was actually evaluating it. Mike turned back to the mirror.
“What?”
James lifted one shoulder. “It’s not bad.”
Mike could already tell from his tone there was more coming. He waited without taking his eyes off the mirror.
“That means there’s a ‘but.’”
“There is,” James said. He had stepped a little closer now. “It’s not bad. It’s just... a little too polished.”
Mike frowned. “What does that even mean?”
James spread his hands. “Like... you look good, but you look like you’re going to an important dinner, not a wedding. It’s too controlled.”
Mike looked at himself in the mirror again. He buttoned the jacket, then unbuttoned it. Looked at the shoulders. Tilted his chin up slightly and took in the whole thing one more time.
And after a few seconds, he saw exactly what James meant.
Yeah.
That was the problem.
The suit did not fit him badly. But it looked too put together. Too much like something that never took risks. It was safe. But maybe a little too safe. The first thing that crossed his mind was what El would think if she saw it. She would probably like it. But she would not get that real that’s the one look on her face. She would feel that something was missing.
Mike felt it too.
“Yeah,” he said at last. “A little.”
The sales associate had come back over by then. She had clearly picked up on the fact that Mike was not fully convinced by the way he kept looking at himself in the mirror.
“We can try another one, if you’d like,” she said. “This cut looks very clean, but there’s another style with a slightly softer shape. It might feel a little more like a groom.”
Before Mike even looked at him, he saw James nod.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
Mike did not argue. Because he was right. As he turned to head back into the fitting room, James called after him.
“For the record, this is a solid start for a first try.”
Mike laughed as he pulled the curtain shut. “You are such a kind and supportive best man.”
James answered immediately from outside.
“I am always kind and supportive. Not everybody deserves it, though.”
The second Mike stepped out of the fitting room in the second suit, James’s face fell.
This time he didn’t even think.
“Nope.”
Mike turned to the mirror. The second he looked, he could see it too. Something was off. The jacket sat too stiff, the shoulder line looked strange, and instead of helping, the vest somehow made the whole thing feel even heavier.
“What the fuck is this?” Mike said. “You think it’s the shade of black?”
James took two steps closer and looked the suit over with a grimace. “No, man, not the shade. The vibe. This suit has major 'thank you all for coming, he loved you very much while he was alive' energy.”
Mike tried to hold it together for a second. Then he looked at himself in the mirror again and lost it.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake...”
By then James was laughing too, the kind that came from pure irritation. Mike tugged at the front of the jacket.
“Why do I look like I aged ten years in this thing?”
James lifted a hand. “Exactly. That’s the problem. You’re supposed to look like a groom, not somebody’s widowed uncle.”
At that point, even the salesman was having trouble staying professional. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he pulled himself together fast.
“Alright,” he said. “We’re forgetting this one. It’s not giving you what you want.”
Without missing a beat, James said, “Yeah, let’s bury this one.”
Mike dropped his head, laughing.
“Shut up.”
Mike was in the fitting room putting on the shirt for the third suit when James called from outside.
“So... what color do you think Kristín’s dress is gonna be?”
A small smile pulled at Mike’s mouth. He lowered his head a little as he straightened the vest.
Outside, James hurried to add, “For the pocket square. That’s why I’m asking.”
This time Mike laughed under his breath.
“Of course,” he said from inside the fitting room. “I’m sure it’s strictly about the pocket square.”
James, to his credit, did not sound fazed.
“Hey, that’s literally what she said, alright? The best man is supposed to coordinate with both the groom and the maid of honor. I’m just respecting tradition.”
“You could call her and ask. You two are gonna be running around together for some of this stuff anyway. You should probably communicate.” He buttoned the jacket as he said it.
“Yeah, but... I don’t know...” James said. “I feel like navy would look really good on her. Because, you know, her eyes... and her hair...” He paused for a second. “Navy would bring out her eyes and look insanely good with the orange hair. That’s a perfect contrast.”
Mike just gave a quiet laugh and adjusted the shoulders. The fabric was good. It sat right on him. After the first two disasters, this was an actual recovery. Then he pulled the curtain open and stepped out.
At first glance, the suit looked good.
It really did.
The black was clean. The cut was right. The jacket sat well on his shoulders. It didn’t look too heavy. For the first time, it was the kind of suit that made him think, Okay. This could work. Mike turned toward the mirror. He buttoned the front of the jacket and took a long look at himself.
And then that feeling came back.
Something was off.
It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t right either. His eyebrows pulled together slightly.
Of course James noticed immediately.
“What?”
Mike didn’t take his eyes off the mirror. “I don’t know.”
“Very helpful.”
“I’m serious, James.” Mike turned a little to one side, then the other. “It’s good, but...”
But what?
That was the problem. He couldn’t fill in the rest.
He tried to picture the look on El’s face if she saw this one. She would look at it first. Then something small would shift in her face. When she didn’t love something, she never said it right away. She looked first.
And Mike couldn’t see that look in his head.
That was enough.
“No,” he said at last. “There’s still something off.”
James took two steps closer and came over to him. This time he was actually serious. First he looked from a distance. Then he moved a little closer. Then he looked at Mike through the mirror, then directly at the suit on him.
Mike waited.
A few seconds later, James said it in a very clear voice.
“Okay.”
Mike turned to him. “What?”
James gestured at him from head to toe. “You look too much like a store mannequin.”
Mike went quiet for a second.
Then he looked back at the mirror.
And suddenly he saw it.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
James was right. The suit looked good on its own. Damn near perfect, actually. And that was exactly the problem. It was too polished. Too neat. It had that kind of perfection that looked less like it belonged on a real person and more like it was supposed to be standing in a front window with a sign next to it that said New Collection.
El would not love this. The second he thought that, it became even clearer. She might say it looked good at first, sure. But then her eyes would narrow a little. Because Mike was in the suit, technically, but in a version of himself that felt too packaged. Too arranged. Too ready to be sold.
When James saw that exact yeah, that’s it look settle on Mike’s face, he folded his arms.
“Right?”
Mike let out a short breath through his nose. “Yeah.”
“See? It’s not bad. It’s actually really good. But it’s not you.”
Mike kept looking at himself in the mirror. “Yeah. El wouldn’t like this.”
James nodded. “Exactly. This one’s out too.”
Mike looked at him. He looked a little worn down. Truthfully, Mike was too.
“I think navy would look good on her too,” Mike said.
James did not get it at first. Then he did. He gave the smallest nod, set his hands on his hips, and looked at Mike for a few seconds. Then he looked out across the store, then back at Mike again.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going.”
Mike raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
“I’m taking this from theory to practice. I’m going to go pick a suit for you.”
Mike laughed. “Cargo pants incoming.”
With a completely straight face, James nodded. “Cargo pants are comfortable. Plenty of pockets.”
Mike looked like he was about to argue with that, but then didn’t. Because it was true. Still, he would have preferred it if James did not come back with cargo pants.
James turned to the sales associate.
“Okay,” he said. “The first one was too stiff. The second one looked like a funeral. The third one was too store mannequin. So now we need something clean, sharp, a little softer, but not shiny. He should look like a groom, not like he’s doing a catalog shoot.”
For the first time, the sales associate nodded at James like she was actually seeing him as part of the process in a professional way.
“Okay,” she said. “I think I understand what you’re looking for.”
As James walked off with her, he added, “And the shoulders matter. We don’t want that first-suit corporate success story thing again.”
Mike laughed.
The sales associate walked with James over to the racks. James was not touching every jacket. He was looking. The associate would point something out, James would step closer and look at the fabric, then shake his head. Mike watched them from a little farther away. He was openly amused now. The fact that James was taking this so seriously, treating it like it was somehow life or death, was funny all by itself.
Then James stopped in front of one suit. The associate stopped too. The two of them looked at it for a few seconds. Then the associate pulled the jacket out. James ran a hand over the fabric, checked the shoulders, then gave a short nod.
The associate handed the jacket and the rest of the suit to Mike. James pointed toward the fitting room with one hand.
“Come on. Go put that on.”
Mike took the suit and went back into the fitting room. This time, he noticed the difference right away. The fabric felt nothing like the first three. It was not too stiff, not too slick. The vest looked cleaner too. And the jacket sat more naturally on his shoulders from the start. Still, he did not make up his mind before looking in the mirror. He buttoned it, adjusted the shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped back out.
James’s whole expression changed immediately. This time, he just grinned.
“Okay. There it is.”
Mike turned to the mirror.
And yeah.
This was it.
The suit sat right on him. It was not too stiff. It was not too shiny. It was clean. But it did not erase him. For the first time, when Mike looked at himself, he saw something that actually belonged to his wedding day. Not just a nice suit he happened to be wearing, but something that really felt like his suit.
James came over and looked at the shoulders, the way the jacket closed, the break at the hem.
“Shoulders are clean. Waist looks good. And the vest actually looks like it belongs on a human being this time,” he said. Then he looked at Mike’s face in the mirror. “And most importantly, El’s gonna love this.”
Without taking his eyes off the mirror, Mike asked, “You sure?”
James did not even hesitate.
“Yeah,” he said, with real certainty. “This doesn’t steal the spotlight from you. It just makes you look good. That’s what we were trying to find.”
Mike kept looking at himself for a few more seconds. Then he gave a slow nod.
“Yeah,” he said. “This is it.”
James immediately stepped back and lifted both hands.
“You’re welcome. Please, no applause.”
Mike laughed. The sales associate smiled too.
“If you’d like, we can try the best man’s suit next and see them side by side,” she said.
By then, El and Kristín had already moved on to the mall. After finding the wedding dress, they had picked out the maid of honor dress too. The color ended up being sage green, soft, calm, but never washed-out. Kristín had looked at herself in the mirror and been pleased, and El had told her it genuinely suited her hair and eyes. Now it was time for shoes.
They were in their third store, or maybe their fourth. At this point, neither of them was even counting anymore. Open boxes were scattered in front of them, thin sheets of paper had slipped onto the floor, and shoes had been abandoned all over the place. El was sitting on a stool, while Kristín was crouched on top of one of the boxes, studying the shoe in her hand.
“Okay,” Kristín said. “This one’s gorgeous.”
El looked at the shoe in her hand. By now, the phrase this one’s gorgeous had completely lost its credibility with both of them. Because every single thing that had been gorgeous so far had eventually started slicing into her foot, stabbing her heel, or making her question her will to live after three steps.
“Let me see.”
Kristín handed it over. It was white, elegant, with a thin heel. It really was beautiful. El slipped it on and tried to fasten the buckle. She struggled with it for a second before Kristín leaned over to help.
“Hold on. Relax a little.”
Kristín fastened it, and El stood up. She took two steps toward the mirror. The first step wasn’t bad. The second was manageable. By the third, her face had changed.
The second Kristín saw that, she laughed.
“There it is. That face again.”
El looked down and twisted her mouth. “This shoe is a lady on the outside and the devil on the inside, Kris.”
“Walk a little more.”
“Why? So I can really lock in my cause of death?”
She still took two more steps. Then she immediately turned back and sat down. By the time she pulled the shoe off, she was genuinely annoyed.
“No. I can’t wear this.”
Kristín pulled the box toward herself. “Alright, that one’s out too.”
As El dropped the shoe back into the box, she flexed her foot once or twice. The shoe was off, but it still felt like the damage it had done was somehow still there. Then her phone rang. She reached for it with the same irritated energy. But the second she saw Mike’s name, the annoyance faded into a smile. Kristín looked over at her and smiled too.
“Hello, groom.”
El laughed and answered the phone.
“Mike.”
“How’s it going? You still alive over there?”
The second she heard Mike’s voice, some of the tension left El’s face.
She was still flexing her foot a little. “For now, yeah. You?”
“We’re alive too.” Then something must have happened in the background, because he let out a short breath. “But apparently this isn’t as easy as we thought.”
El laughed. “That bad?”
“Not bad, exactly... we just thought we’d be in and out in five minutes, and apparently that’s not how this works.”
The corner of El’s mouth lifted a little more. Kristín looked like she was busy with the box in front of her, but she was very obviously listening with half an ear.
“So?” El said. “Did you find anything?”
“Maybe.” Mike had that familiar tone in his voice, half tired, half amused. “Either we found it, or we’ve both reached the point where we’re ready to call anything the one. We’re in a very delicate place. Now we’re going to look at shoes, but I wouldn’t say we’ve learned our lesson, because James is still insisting shoes are easy and we’ll be in and out.”
El could hear James somewhere in the background saying something like, because they are, and laughed.
Mike spoke again. “What about you guys?”
El dropped the shoe back into the box and leaned forward a little. “Wedding dress is done. Maid of honor dress is done. Now we’re looking at shoes.”
“We’re almost neck and neck,” Mike said with a laugh. Then he paused. A few seconds later, he spoke again. “What color dress did Kristín get?”
El’s hand stopped on the lid of the box for a second.
And right then, she heard James again in the background. Just briefly, muffled, like he had asked something. Something tiny shifted in her face. Then, like she had noticed absolutely nothing at all, she answered in a perfectly calm voice.
“Sage green.”
Kristín turned her head and looked at her right away. It was a short, quiet look. A what? kind of look. El winked.
There was the tiniest pause on the other end. Then Mike said, a little too quickly, “Nice.”
Right after that, James’s voice came again, quieter this time but still close enough to hear.
“What was it? Didn’t catch that.”
Now Mike sounded like he had pulled the phone a little away from himself.
“She said sage green.”
After that, James’s voice moved farther off. When Mike came back properly, his tone was easier again.
“That’ll look nice,” he said. “That’ll work.”
El tipped her head just slightly. Her smile was faint. She did not let the amusement she felt slip into her voice.
“Yeah,” she said. “Did you get the same suit? Let me guess. Black.”
Mike stayed in the game just as easily. “Yep. Black, and yep, same suit. Just my shirt studs are different. But mostly we’re planning to make the distinction through the flowers.”
The corner of El’s mouth curled again. This time Kristín looked at her a little more carefully, but still did not interrupt.
“That makes sense,” El said. “Though we haven’t even looked at the bouquet yet.”
Mike laughed. “Now I get why people start wedding planning months in advance. My brain is soup.”
El laughed. “Yeah. Mine too.”
Then Mike’s voice softened a little.
“But if you’re getting too tired, stop, okay? You don’t have to finish everything today.”
Warmth moved quietly through El again. “I know.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
For a second, neither of them hung up.
Then Mike said, “Talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later.”
When the call ended, El kept holding the phone for a few more seconds before lowering it slowly. Kristín looked at her. This time there was a small but obvious question on her face. Curious, but not pushing.
“They were asking for the pocket square,” El said calmly as she closed the lid of the box.
One corner of Kristín’s mouth lifted.
“Of course they were.”
Then she held out another shoe.
“Now try this one.”
After they finally got the shoes taken care of too, they decided to sit down and get coffee.
“You’re really good at this maid-of-honor thing, by the way. I honestly wouldn’t have managed any of this without you, Kris. Thank you.”
Kristín laughed. “If I hadn’t done it once before, I think I’d be losing my mind right now. But since I’ve already been through it once, I’m a lot calmer. I’ll be even calmer at Anna’s wedding.” Her smile faded a little. “At least... I don’t think I’m the maid of honor anymore.”
El reached across the table and took her hand. “Don’t, Kris... they’ll apologize to you. None of this is your fault.”
“I don’t feel like I’m ever going back there now.” Kristín’s voice tightened. “My heart’s broken, El. How could they blame me for that? I honestly can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t get past how unfair it is.” She shook her head. “Whatever. Let’s drop it. No being miserable today. Okay.” She straightened a little.
“We’re going to the florist after this, and then we need to figure out the hair situation, but we really need to talk that through. Hopefully that Polaroid photo will be enough. It was enough for Robin’s wedding, at least. And the main thing is making sure we can get you to the venue without your hair falling apart in the process. Robin’s hair got messed up, and we had to drown her in hairspray. By the time she finally got out of the shower that night, the groom was practically asleep.”
She laughed, then caught the look on El’s face and quickly softened.
“It’s fine, El. I learned everything I needed to learn from that disaster, and I am far more professional now. Everything’s going to be amazing. Robin’s wedding turned into chaos because the groom was an idiot and the best man was somehow even worse. At least your groom and his best man are smart. We know that much.”
El nodded, but she could already feel herself getting tense again. Kristín noticed and changed the subject.
“The bachelorette party...” she said. “I looked into that a little last night. Apparently this city is basically the capital of blues music. So here’s my plan. First, we have dinner somewhere nice with live blues, then we do a cocktail tasting, and then we stay out and have fun all night. What do you think? Have you and Mike talked about it? Because obviously Jane’s gonna need someone with her. You can’t both go out the same night.”
El thought about it for a moment, then smiled. The idea really was good.
“We’d have to do them on different nights, obviously. But honestly... that sounds really fun. I don’t know anything about blues, but it still sounds fun.”
Kristín gave her a look. “Yeah, but you know I don’t drink much. I start falling apart.”
“Don’t worry. I know. I’ll take care of you. You’re getting married. Fall apart a little. That’s the whole point of a bachelorette party.” Her eyes widened with excitement. “You don’t seriously think Mike’s not gonna fall apart too, do you? They’re going to go all in. When he comes home, you better laugh in his face and then tell me everything.”
El laughed.
“And you’ll probably get all kinds of things out of him too,” Kristín went on. “Which means later you can use them against him. Beautiful. Perfect.”
They both laughed.
“Apparently I’m staying with you the last night too,” El said. “Mike said we can either stay at the house or at the hotel, whatever works better. Jane’s gonna stay with Mama Dolores. And the four of us are having dinner that night too, but we still don’t know where.” She took a deep breath. “Kris, there’s so much to do. My chest is starting to feel tight.”
“Hey. Calm down.” Kristín leaned forward a little. “Look. The dress is done. The shoes are done. The suit is done. Right now all we have left is the florist and the hair thing. And those are future decisions. We’re not doing everything right this second. We’re just deciding.” She held her gaze. “That’s why we’re here. So you two don’t have to carry all of this by yourselves. Mike is probably stressed too, thinking about every single detail in his head right now. And hopefully James is keeping him from losing it. This stuff is stressful for everybody. Which is exactly why you’re supposed to dump that stress on us. Don’t keep it in. Tell me. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
El nodded and took the last sip of her coffee.
After coffee and a chance to breathe for a while, they left the mall and headed to their next stop: the florist.
The second they stepped inside, both of them slowed for a moment. Kristín looked around and took a deep breath.
“Okay. This is better. This place just did something nice to my nervous system.”
El had to agree. It was cool inside. Compared to the artificial, exhausting atmosphere of the mall, this place felt like heaven. The calm air, full of fresh-cut stems, greenery, and that faint earthy scent, immediately made both of them feel better. Buckets of flowers stood in rows everywhere: white roses, cream-colored blooms with softer layered petals, tiny filler flowers, eucalyptus branches, wilder-looking greens, pastels, richer tones. Everything was alive, but there was so much of it that it could just as easily make your head spin.
Kristín bent toward one of the buckets and looked at a white flower.
“Alright,” she said. “This is where the most beautiful wedding flowers in the world are going to be planned.”
El laughed softly. “Hopefully.”
The woman behind the counter noticed them and came over. She had a calm face and a gentle voice.
“Can I help you?”
Kristín jumped in immediately. “Yes, actually. We’re here for a wedding. The bridal bouquet, the maid of honor bouquet... and then the flowers for the groom and the best man.”
The woman nodded. “Perfect. Then I need to get the full picture first.” She turned to El. “What does your dress look like? Is it very full, or more simple? Is there lace?”
Kristín reached into her bag, pulled out the photo, and handed it to the florist. The woman studied it.
“Alright. And what color are the maid of honor’s dress, the groom’s suit, and the best man’s suit?”
“My dress is sage green, and the groom’s suit and the best man’s suit...” Kristín started, then looked at El. “The groom’s is black, and the best man’s...?”
El cut in.
“The best man’s is the same as the groom’s.”
The woman nodded. She held the photo for another second, studying the dress carefully, then looked back at El.
“Okay,” she said. “That’s good. The dress is already elegant on its own, so the bouquet shouldn’t be too heavy. Something softer, something with more movement would work better. If we make it too big, it’ll compete with the dress.”
Both of them nodded.
This time the woman reached toward the white flowers laid out on the counter. She picked out a few different stems and placed them in front of them.
“Now,” she said, “with the bridal bouquet, there are two directions we can go. We can either do a fully classic white bouquet, or we can bring in a little peach and some soft greenery with the white. That way the arrangement feels more alive, but still clean.”
El leaned forward and looked at the white roses. Then at the cream-colored flowers that opened more softly, with all those delicate layers.
“I feel like all white might be a little too plain...”
The woman nodded right away. “Exactly. That’s why I wouldn’t recommend going with just one thing. For example, white roses, some ranunculus, a small amount of filler flower, and maybe a little eucalyptus or another softer greenery that drapes a bit. The overall color still stays very light, but the bouquet doesn’t end up looking flat.”
“I don’t want it to feel too formal,” El said.
The woman smiled. “Then we’d do a bouquet that feels more naturally tied. Still shaped, but not too tight. Something that has room to breathe.”
Then she picked up a few stems and started putting together a rough sample. White, peache, powder pink, soft greenery. For the first time, El found herself looking at it like it was a real bouquet. She pictured how it would look beside the dress, how it would look in her hand while she walked.
Kristín noticed and gave the smallest grin.
El knew exactly why she was grinning, and without taking her eyes off the bouquet, she said, “Yeah. This is beautiful.”
The woman nodded. “Okay. Then this is the direction for the bridal bouquet.”
Then she pulled out a few other stems.
“Now for the groom’s flower.” Looking at one of the white blooms in her hand, she added, “The groom’s boutonniere should come from the bouquet. It shouldn’t look like it belongs to an entirely different world. So whatever the main flower is in the bouquet, the groom gets a smaller, simpler version of that on his lapel.”
She put together a simple example with one white bloom, a small piece of greenery, and a clean wrap.
“Against a black suit, this will read very clearly. It’ll look clean. And it’ll immediately feel like the groom.”
The second she heard that, El found herself thinking of Mike without meaning to. Black suit, white flower. It really would look good. And in the middle of all the tension sitting inside her, imagining that gave her one brief, quiet moment where she could breathe.
The woman turned to Kristín this time. “For the maid of honor bouquet, we’d do something smaller. It should feel related to the bridal bouquet, but not identical. Since the dress is sage green, something softer and fresher would work really well against it.”
She picked out a few lighter flowers and some airier greenery. Then she put together a sample that felt smaller and easier than the bridal bouquet, but still like it belonged to the same world.
Kristín leaned in to look. “Oh my God, this turned out really well...”
Now the woman moved on to the last piece. “And the best man’s flower.” She set a second sample beside the groom’s boutonniere. “The idea here is that the best man should still look coordinated with the groom, because they’ll be standing next to each other, but since both suits are black, the difference needs to show somehow. And at the same time, the best man will be walking with the maid of honor during the ceremony. So his boutonniere should lean a little more green and feel like it comes from the maid of honor bouquet.”
The corner of El’s mouth lifted a little at that. It was a very small smile. Not obvious. More like something in her had been quietly touched. Kristín caught it immediately. She turned toward her and narrowed her eyes.
“And what exactly are you smiling about?”
Without changing her expression at all, El kept looking at the sample. “Nothing.”
The florist noticed the look that passed between them and smiled before she could help it. When Kristín caught that, she lifted her hands slightly.
“For the record, I have walked with a best man before.”
The florist tried to hide her smile, but didn’t really manage. El finally turned and looked at Kristín.
“Yes,” she said in a perfectly calm voice. “But that one was an idiot.”
“Yeah, that one really was an idiot...”
The florist was still smiling as she set the little best man sample down on the counter. “Well then, hopefully this time it’s a better match.”
Kristín just looked at the flowers and didn’t say anything.
“Hopefully,” El said, looking down at the flowers in front of her. That small expression still hadn’t left her face.
Kristín caught that too.
“You’re still smiling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You only noticed because instead of focusing on the flowers, you’re over there studying my face. Which, by the way, look how pretty this one is.”
“Yes,” Kristín said. “It turned out really pretty.”
The woman set the two bouquets and the small lapel samples side by side.
“Personally,” she said, “I really love this arrangement. The bridal bouquet is elegant, the maid of honor bouquet feels fresh and lively, the groom’s is very classic, and the best man’s has just enough of that green connection. It’s really balanced.”
“Okay, then,” Kristín said, moving straight into planning mode. “What time do I need to come by on the morning of the wedding?”
Since they had finished earlier than expected, they’d gone to a bar and were now sitting there trying to shake off the exhaustion of the day. James was watching game highlights on the TV over the bar, while Mike was thinking about the wedding.
Mostly about El.
She had bought a wedding dress, and when they’d talked, she and Kristín had been dealing with shoes. Mike drank his beer with this pure, uncomplicated happiness sitting inside him, because somehow he had really made it into this part of his life.
James spoke while highlights from the Blackhawks’ last game played across the screen.
“Alright.” His eyes shifted to Mike. “Now for the real important issue.”
Mike glanced at him. “What?”
“The bachelor party.”
Mike’s whole face changed immediately. “James.”
“What? It has to be discussed.”
Mike already looked uneasy. “Listen. I’m saying this one last time. No strip club.”
James had not even fully opened his mouth yet. There was a short silence. Then the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Wow. So that’s where your mind went first.”
In a dry voice, Mike said, “Because you’ve been saying the same thing for two days. And no calling a stripper to the hotel either. And none of that last night of freedom bullshit. They’d kill both of us.”
This time James actually laughed. “Yeah, alright. That’s fair.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“I wasn’t kidding either.” Then he gave the smallest shrug. “I’m just mentally reviewing the options as a best man.”
“There are no options.”
“Okay,” James said. “Got it. No naked ladies. No dancers. I mean, you weren’t looking even when El wasn’t around, so why would you start now?”
“Exactly,” Mike said. “See? Now we’re speaking the same language. Keep going.”
This time James actually started thinking.
“Alright, then... a good dinner. Drinks. Maybe we sit somewhere for a while. Maybe pool, maybe poker. Just... an actual night out.”
Mike’s face relaxed immediately. “That’s it.”
James looked at him. “That suits you better anyway.”
Mike laughed. “Amen.”
“Honestly, you’d probably miss El after an hour and want to go home.”
“Probably,” Mike said without even thinking.
James laughed pretty hard at that. Mike laughed too, but shrugged.
“Man, I’m literally sitting here waiting to marry her. Spending a night away from her and acting like it’s some kind of freedom celebration feels pretty stupid to me.”
James nodded. “Yeah. I know. Alright, don’t worry.”
He thought about it for a second.
“Let’s not make it a huge thing, either.”
“No, man. Just you, me, Bob. That’s enough. Unless you want to invite your friends from back home.”
Mike shook his head. “El doesn’t feel ready yet.”
“Hope they won’t take it personally.”
“Honestly, James... at this point, the only person whose feelings I care about, and the only person I’m listening to, is El.”
James laughed. “Keep her happy and you’ll have a peaceful life. Happy wife, happy life.”
“Exaaactly, James. Learn these tricks. They’ll come in handy.”
James snorted. “Me? Please. I’m not built for that life, man.”
Mike looked at him seriously.
“Don’t say that. Look... before I ever filed to adopt Jane, I used to say the same kind of thing. Then I thought, if my dad can count as someone who was a father, then I can sure as hell do better than that. And I’ve spent every day since trying to be a better father than he ever was. I know what you’ve been through wasn’t easy. I know that. But what you do with it now, whether you let it crush you or turn it into something stronger, that part is still in your hands. And let’s not bullshit each other, James. We’ve known each other way too long for that. You keep acting like you’re happy. Stop.”
He watched him for a moment.
“We’ve been out for four hours. Yeah, the withdrawal’s kicking in, but you still haven’t used—”
“That doesn’t mean I’m doing okay. I can’t sit still.”
“It doesn’t mean you’re doing bad either. You’re 21. That’s way too young to act like it’s already over for you. Look at me... I’m getting married. And to who? The girl I lost ten years ago. Man, that is not a normal thing. But it still happened. You think there weren’t times I wanted to give up?”
He paused. That part hurt to say.
“You know there were. But I found something to hold onto, something that kept me going. If Jane hadn’t pulled me out of that hole, I wouldn’t be sitting here today. But the person who brought Jane to me was El. And if I hadn’t made that promise to El, and when I came to you and told you I was quitting drugs, if you’d looked at me and said, “No the hell you’re not,” I wouldn’t have done it.
He tried to catch James’s eye, and when he finally did, he kept going.
“You’re a good man, James. You’re not like those junkies you used to throw out of that warehouse. You’re genius. And...” He opened a hand and pointed at him. “You’re a good-looking guy too. You take care of yourself. The only reason you keep using is because you’re tired. Because your head won’t let anything go. And yeah, you’re right. None of this is easy. But I know you didn’t choose this life. You didn’t get tired of women. You got tired of girls who only wanted you because of your money.”
James still wasn’t looking at him, but he was listening.
“You’re not turning to blow-up dolls because you’re ugly or hopeless in bed. You’re doing it because those girls never made you feel anything, and you don’t want to waste yourself on something that feels like nothing. It’s a damn shame, man. You’re way too young for this. When you said, after the Stefán thing, that you were gonna go see that girl, I was happy for you. I really was. Look, James. You can lie to everybody else. You can make everybody think you’re fine, but...” He pointed between the two of them.
“We’ve known each other way too long for this bullshit. I saw what your childhood looked like. Being unhappy isn’t a crime. Hell, even during the last ten years, whenever I thought I was happy, there was still something missing in me. Being unhappy is not the problem. But how many more years are you gonna keep doing this to yourself?”
James still didn’t look at him.
“I get why you’re worried about Oliver. I do. I haven’t exactly forgotten about him either. But he doesn’t deserve this, James. I’m saying that even as his friend. He’s been draining the life out of you since the day he left, and you just keep letting him. Fine. Okay. But for how long? When are you gonna stop wasting yourself on people who don’t think about you? Seriously, man. Fuck him.”
Mike was starting to get angry now. He tried to keep himself under control, but he was not going to feel better unless he said it.
“Oliver knew your dad had disappeared, and he still didn’t even come by in the summer. So why the hell are you still thinking about him? How many years, James? How many fucking years? You were what, nine when your mom died? Since then, how many days was your father actually home? He was always gone, and then he’d come back only when he was in trouble, wouldn’t he? And Oliver? How many times did he come back for you? He was one of the people who made you sick when you were a kid. If some random child showed up at somebody’s door with no parents, most people would take them in and help them get somewhere safe. You were his actual little brother. And he’s still running from you.”
He took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then he leaned back against the booth and watched him for a while. James was still looking down at his glass.
“Don’t miss out on the people who could love you because you’re hung up on someone who doesn’t. Let them go. Focus on yourself, get your shit together, and whatever needs to happen, we’ll do it. We’ll go to a doctor together. First you get off this crap, then we deal with the damage it did, and the damage that was already there before it. Whatever it takes. And one day, you’ll be a dad. A damn good one. And you’ll protect your kid. Because you can do that. Your heart’s still trying to tell you it’s alive. Don’t turn your back on it. Listen to it. For the first time in a long time, your heart actually reacted to something. Doesn’t matter if it was emotional or sexual. Kristín got to you.”
“Mike...” James said. “Kristín wouldn’t look at me like that.”
“Maybe...”
“No, not maybe. She...” He let out a breath. “She’s way out of my league. You realize that, right? And I don’t just mean looks. Even if I stayed clean for twenty years, I still wouldn’t be enough for someone like her.”
“James, this isn’t about Kristín. It’s about the fact that some part of you still wants to live. We’ve got that dinner coming up. ” He gestured toward him. “You’ll have to talk to her. That alone will crack you open a little. Then on the wedding day, you two are gonna be coordinated the whole time. You’ll talk. You’ll walk arm in arm. You’ll dance together.” He paused, then pointed at him. “And as your groom, I have a request for my best man, James Cortez...”
James looked at him.
“Enjoy that day. Be the best best man that girl has ever worked with in the history of her maid-of-honoring. Be so good at it that ten years from now, if she’s ever a maid of honor again and Brad Pitt is the best man, she still remembers you.
James smiled.
A real smile.
Mike smiled too. Then he checked his watch.
“Come on, finish your beer so I can go pick up Jane,” he said.
James nodded. “You go ahead, man. Keep the suit with you too. No point letting it sit in the warehouse and start smelling like that place. I’ve got the tab.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, fair enough. Thanks. Really. For everything. Alright, I’m heading out. See you.”
They said goodbye, and just before Mike walked out of the bar, he glanced back at James.
He still had the glass in his hand. He was thinking.
And he was smiling.
Mike smiled too, then walked out of the bar.