Sarah Folston was 4’11” and never wore flats, ever.
She wore them tonight because she was shaking so badly she felt like she would fall over.
Between her car and the door of Varian’s she dropped her phone twice, the same phone that had the wallpaper photo of Christopher modeling the suit he would wear to her wedding.
Sarah Folston never chewed gum. She was chewing it now-three pieces, maybe four, she wasn’t sure, because her mother caught her grinding her teeth from the nerves.
“I’m sure Jeffrey would still marry you with a chipped tooth,” her mom said, “ or even a missing tooth, but I don’t think you’d be happy with the photos.”
Sarah Folston had never lost a true friend before. She pulled open the door of Varian’s thinking this was the day she might.
Christopher saw Sarah come through the door and ran, silently, to hug her. Christopher was never the silent type, but he knew it was serious.
In silence, they went back to the corner booth Sarah had asked Christopher to grab.
The last three guys Christopher dated wouldn’t have believed he could be silent for over a minute, but he felt the gravity of the situation even though he wasn’t certain what the situation was, exactly.
In the booth, with a double gin tonic waiting for Sarah, he took both her hands in his.
“Just know that if Jeffrey cheated on you I will kill him myself, with no help whatsoever, and gladly finish my autobiography in prison. A murder will make it even juicier.”
Sarah laughed. For the last 24 hours, she hadn’t been sure she was capable of laughing.
“No, this isn’t about Jeffrey. It’s about us, and about me selfishly believing we can remain best friends.”
Christopher slid back in the booth. He still held Sarah’s hands but his grip had loosened considerably. He now had an inkling of what was coming.
“About six months ago,” Sarah said, “we were out at my grandfather’s place near Black Lake.”
Christopher started to make tiny triangular folds with his drink napkin.
“He was really missing my dad, reminiscing, looking at pictures.”
Christopher was really starting to form a picture in his head of what was happening.
Sarah blinked and pictured how smashing Christopher looked in that tailored Italian outfit, with these gloves Sebastien had made specially to match her dress.
“He asked, sincerely, why he wasn’t walking me down the aisle in the absence of my dad.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart, Christopher said. “He’s family. I–”
The heavy disappointment in Christopher’s voice almost broke Sarah in two.
She stared at the drink. She didn’t want one sip because she was afraid if she started she’d drink the whole bottle.
A server walked by.
“Can I order a Vernor’s?” Sarah said and felt her voice crack multiple times.
She and Christopher had begun rehearsing him walking her down the aisle since the day after Jeffrey proposed.
She hadn’t even considered her grandfather until her grandfather brought it up.
Sarah squeezed Christopher’s fingers.
“You’re family to me too. In many ways, more so than my grandfather. Please let me explain, then if you hate me you can walk out of here and never speak to me again. I’ll shrivel up and die if you do, but please listen.”
“I told my grandfather that I loved him, but that we were just too different for me to feel comfortable with him walking me down the aisle.”
The server brought the Vernor’s.
Christopher hadn’t touched his drink but with one hand had managed to make a crazy little accordion fold of nervousness on his napkin.
“I don’t suppose it was easy to convince your grandpappy you have more in common with some queer environmental lawyer from Muskegon, other than the fact that we’re both great looking.”
Christopher’s bravado was gonna melt Sarah right into the well-worn Naugahyde in the booth at Varian’s.
She hadn’t even officially told Christopher he wasn’t walking her down the aisle and she knew he was crushed.
“I told my grandfather what I needed to tell him. But I made a mistake, and for that I owe you an apology.”
Christopher’s perfectly trimmed eyebrows raised. Tell me the mistake, he was asking with them.
“I told him that if he really wanted to earn the right to walk me down the aisle, he’d put his guns away for good and never go duck hunting again. He just kinda laughed at me, kinda in the meanest sound a laugh could possibly make.”
Christopher abandoned his makeshift origami and squeezed Sarah’s hands.
Sarah squeezed back.
“I never thought…I just…anyway, my grandfather hates technology unless it comes in the form of a laser scope. Two nights ago he sent me photos of receipts. He sold his guns. All of ‘em. I was scrolling the photos and he sent me video…my Pops, sending me video. I swear I thought he still had a flip phone. He…he…”
Sarah stirred her Vernor’s with her finger then picked up the gin and chugged half of it.
“He sent me a video saying he’d never go hunting again but he wanted more than anything to walk Tony’s little girl down the aisle.”
Sarah took a breath like she had never breathed before.
“Don’t hate me, Chris. I had to say yes.”
Christopher Morfield pulled Sarah Folston’s hands apart, leaned in and for the first time ever kissed her on the lips. She smelled like top-shelf gin and cinnamon gum.
“You had to say yes, girl, you had to. I’m still a tiny bit disappointed…”
Christopher’s blue eyes sparkled.
“But Lord Byron have mercy, Sarah, I’m happier than shit we saved some ducks.”
***
Photo Courtesy of Getty Images
Nicely done. And thanks for the Vernors!
Excellent ending. Got a great chuckle out of it.