I point to the clock. “Not just waiting—happening. We’re late.”
“Oh!” LeeLee says, opening the door. “They’ll forgive us when they see how amazing we all look.”
I can’t help but laugh. My grandmother is the best. I can tell my mom thinks so too, and we link arms as we walk down the sidewalk toward the lawn in the distance. From here I can see the guests waiting patiently in their white-backed chairs and see the cake table just off to the side. The alter is obscured and I don’t get a chance to look up there as Katie waits for us in a small, enclosed tent near the makeshift aisle, ushering us quickly inside.
“Did Tom show up?” my grandmother asks with a laugh.
“Sure did, looking handsome. Good thing you’re locking that down,” Katie replies. She looks at me. “The Sons, too.”
I bet.
“Everyone ready?” she asks. We nod and she texts Charlie, who cues up the music. “Starlee, you’re first.”
Katie hands me my bouquet of flowers and holds back the tent flaps. I step out onto the lawn feeling like I’ve entered a fairytale. Guests are on both sides and the aisle is long and narrow. I pass our neighbors and friends, but my eyes aren’t on them. They’re focused forward. Not on Tom. I mean, he looks nice, but I’ve got my gaze and heart set on the four boys he asked to stand up for him, that LeeLee wanted as witnesses. Four wayward souls that are now part of the family.
&nbs
p; A cool mountain breeze tickles the back of my neck as I take one step after the other, closer to the men I love. They’re dressed in gray suits and ties that match the yellow of my dress. I feel their eyes on me, sense the sweep of their gaze down my body, head-to-toe. Their expressions in various states of approval. I love that no one here, outside a few limited friends, knows that these boys are mine and that I’m theirs.
We’re young. Too young to make decisions about the future. There’s college and careers and lives to lead, but I know in my heart that I could repeat the same vows as my grandmother today and I’d mean them.
When I opened my heart to each one of the wayward sons, when I wiped away every tear and iced each bruise or stitched every wound, it wasn’t just building a bond for today. It was tying us together.
Forever.
Epilogue
That last summer before college is filled with light.
Sunrises with Jake after he finishes his morning job. He lifts me easily on top of our rock, his muscles growing bigger, leaner. We watch the ball of fire creep from behind the mountains, blasting the sky with purples and golds, our bodies wound in one another for warmth.
Sunsets peek in the back trailer window as Dexter’s hands wander my flesh and his mouth whispers promises. The angry boy is gone, his passion poured into his other interests, primarily me. That raw aggression that he used to pound out with his fists pounds into my body, showing me a kind of aching love-making only old souls possess. He’s content. Secure. And I love him more every day.
Moonlight shines down on the little town and I sit with George as he tries to capture our home. Charcoal, acrylics, oil, and pastels. He sketches, paints, and collages, trying to replicate the air, the scenery, the people. He’s frantic. Nervous about his new life, as we all are, and it’s the only way he knows how to channel it. Night after night he works, not realizing he doesn’t need to record Lee Vines. It’s in his heart. Always.
The strangest is the mid-day sun, when Charlie emerges from the dark of his cave, ready for adventure. The urgency of our limited time pushes through his routine, drawing him to the rest of us—to me. He doesn’t fight the hikes or trips to dusty ghost towns, or boat rides on the lake. His skin turns pink from exposure. His mouth warms against mine.
The day after the Fourth of July, the final day before Jake leaves for training camp in Palo Alto, we make the hike up the hill toward Star Falls. I’m not the same girl I was the year before—fresh-faced and naïve. We eat a feast spread out on towels and then peel off our clothes, tossing them on sun-heated rocks. The water is freezing but we sink under anyway, knowing it’s the last time. Slippery hands grab for me, warm tongues tickle mine. We’re more forward than usual, but the clock ticks and when the water’s too cold we lie on the rocks, baking our skin, staying as close as we can.
That night, like he has a dozen times before, Jake comes to my bedroom window. He crawls in the window and into my bed, kissing my body from head to toe. I make the first of four goodbyes, licking his skin and feeling the hard muscles that I won’t touch again for weeks, if not longer. When we’re both breathing heavy, our skin slick from sweat and our bodies both satiated while hot and overheated, we make promises that we plan to keep.
Promises I make three more times.
Promises that carry us through distances and struggles and years.
Until we can be together again.
Late Fall, Freshman Year
“Are you seriously not ready yet?”
“Uh,” Charlie is deeply immersed in his game. Deeply. “I took a shower.”
He did. There’s a fresh soapy scent in the air and his hair is damp. Oh, he’s also sitting in his gaming chair in only a towel.
“I texted you that we were on the way. Jake dropped me off and went over to the gallery with Dexter. I told them I’d ride over with you.” Because I had a feeling he wouldn’t be ready. Charlie is the worst getting out the door. He’s like every other gamer in the universe. “Five more minutes…”
Tonight, we don’t have five more minutes. Okay, technically we do. Jake, Dex, and I were early getting here from Palo Alto for George’s show. Three of his pieces were chosen by a gallery downtown. It’s a prestigious moment and we decided to come to San Francisco to support him.