At long last, I deposited the five of us in the empty parking lot outside Pop's church. His twenty or so other regular parishioners all seemed to have made it out for the big day. I wondered who'd be doing the honors, considering Pop was the only Pastor at the Holy Congregation of the Ascension. I supposed he had friends inside, preparing to pop out of the woodwork and lend their congratulations. And this must be the son we've heard so much about, the congregants might say. You must be a proud man, Father!

“You're never allowed to drive my truck again,” said Denny, as he reached up to pluck the keys from my fist. “Fuck if I care your Saab's in the shop.”

I nodded dully, sliding the emergency brake up. It took a swift elbow in the ribs from Zora to get me out of the car, where apparently Doll needed to change into her wedding clothes. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying my damndest not to imagine her movements. Her tiny body, pressing up against the familiar terrain of the truck...her big naked breasts, swinging in the reflection of my rearview mirror... her pale, taut, back flush against the car seats.

The fogey, playing the gentlemen, hopped out of the car and came to stand next to me on the sidewalk. Jerk barely reached my shoulders. He looked shrimpy, like he'd never clocked an hour at the gym. What could she possibly see in him?

“You're the football guy, right?” Old Man River said, in an irritatingly chirpy voice. Catching a slice of Zora's expression, I nodded. I guessed it would be showing my hand to be outright impolite to my stepsister's wedding date.

“She's talked about you,” he said. Then, he lowered his voice and leaned toward me. I caught a whiff of some froufy, adult cologne. “I'm Nate Dempsey. I hope this isn't too weird for you. Ash and I are friends from the school, and she just kind of invited me last minute. I'm really grateful to be included.”

“You look a bit old for a high school senior.”

“How's that?” Denny looked up from his corner of the pavement, where he'd been steadfastly preoccupied kicking rocks. He snorted and grinned in my direction.

“You look a little older than high school, man. All I'm saying.” I bit my lip. The truck bed wobbled back and forth, and I heard a cute little squeal from within. Doll was clearly struggling with some part of her dress. A part of me wished I could tap on the window and offer my aid. Untangle that bra strap. Smooth down those hose.

“I'm not too much older than you are, actually. And what can I say? Your sister's mature.”

My nails were suddenly digging into the flesh of my palms.

“Step-sister, bro.”

“Whatever you say.” We stood shifting on the sidewalk for another few moments, awkward as hell. Then the ancient one opened his trap again. “She had a really shitty year at that high school. We got to be close. I totally understand this protective brother vibe, Landon, but you don't have to worry about me. I'm one of the good guys.”

He even sounded like a creepy teacher. All amiable and calming, like a person trying to talk someone off a ledge.

“I think Ash is a doll. Honestly.”

I didn't even realize I'd done anything weird until I got a cue from Zora again. Her eyes had lifted from her cell phone, and now appeared to be boring their way through my face. Denny had appeared right at my side, suddenly—though I saw his attention was fixed on the side of his truck, where a decent-sized dent now lived above the driver's door handle.

“What the fuck, Landy?!” he shouted. It was then that I connected my pulsing fist to the damage. “You fucking Spazmo today, or what? Why are you punching my truck?”

Before I could come up with even the glimmer of a lie, Doll emerged from the opposite door of the cab. She wore a silky, purple, sleeveless dress that clung to her frame. She had a bright white daisy tucked behind one ear. Her lips were shiny, bearing just a trace of pink. The dress looked made for her body. As she walked towards our group on the sidewalk, the swampy air seemed to bend around her. It was like she was gliding through water—silent, impossible, lovely. The exact vision from my recurring dream.

None of us three guys said a word at first. Then my girlfriend cleared her throat.

“Come on, goons,” said Zora, in her iciest, she-wolf voice. “Don't want to miss your Dad's wedding because of some pair of legs, do we?”

Chapter Fourteen

Ash

July 23^rd

My mother looked surprisingly good in her polka-dotted white chiffon dress. Carson had deigned to help tailor it, and the fabric magically seemed to make curves of her nonexistent hips. When she said “I do,” Anya's face broke open like a raincloud, and I felt for an instant that maybe—just maybe—all this marriage hullabaloo was for real.

The Pastor, in his rented tux, didn't look half so trucker-y as usual. His greying hair was slicked back from his face, and without the shadow of his baseball cap covering his eyes, I was more than a little shocked to learn that his cheekbones were strong and his jawline pronounced. I couldn't quite understand what she saw in him, but when I saw his eyes also go liquid at the sound of the tinny wedding march sounding from the out-of-tune piano, I felt relief. Perhaps things wouldn't go to shit after all.

Mr. Dempsey—or Nate, as he'd told me in the truck—seemed more emotionally affected than the whole congregation slapped together. He fidgeted beside me, and I snuck a peek of a fat tear hovering on the lip of his eyelid as the newlyweds sashayed down the aisle. I smiled to myself. He was definitely cute, in a hipster kind of way. He was older, and sort of a teacher, sure—but he was kind. And I figured I deserved to have someone who was kind to me.

Carson shot me a strange look from further down our little bridesmaids’ aisle (for the “church” was too small for us to stand up next to our mother, like proper attendants). At one point, I caught her trying to mouth a question in my direction. She had a right. I had basically brought a stranger along to my family's most intimate moment to date. But my sister's curiosity was nothing compared to the unrelenting gaze of Landon, who hadn't stopped staring at me since I climbed out of Denny's truck in my bridesmaid gear. I was aware of his eyes on the side of my face throughout the whole ceremony, despite him being clear on the opposite side of the church, flanking his Dad. Beside him, his haughty, beautiful girlfriend kept her mouth in a rigid line—but he didn't even glance her way. I didn't know what the intention of his gaze could be, but I felt the whole, concentrated force of his wet brown eyes on my body as I bent to pick up a hymnal, as I slid a tendril of hair behind my ear, as I walked down the aisle to receive communion.

In turn, I tried not to look at him. It was kinda creepy. There was something almost violent in his intensity—and an irrational part of me wondered if he would come gunning for me like a charging rhino, were we to make eyes. I supposed he was cross because I'd brought along a stranger to his Pop's wedding, but Nate Dempsey had been nothing so far but perfectly polite. Even though he'd arrived at the church in his band shirt and corduroys, something in his bearing made him appear more formal than plenty of the other podunk congregants, who murmured and swayed along to the presiding priest even when it seemed inappropriate to do so. Nate said 'Amen' when he was supposed to, he knelt when it was required. At one point, he reached over and took my sweaty palm in his cool, dry one, and brought my knuckles up through space to his mouth. He kissed the back of my hand, lightly and without looking at me. I felt a pleasing little shock twist down my spine at his touch. It felt so familiar, and so easy. We might have been dating for years.