Julie Miller

Do-Or-Die Bridesmaid


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      “ARE YOU TALLER?” Conor smiled at the warm greeting and wound his long arms around tiny Leslie Karr, treasuring the maternal hug at his waist. “Conor Wildman, I think you’re taller. I’m not shrinking, am I?” Keeping one arm linked around his waist, Leslie turned to her husband beside her in the reception line. “Ron, am I shrinking?”

      “No, dear. You’re as petite and perfect as always.” Ron Karr seemed to be taking the demands of the day in his familiarly patient stride. Probably a life skill learned from raising three daughters. He extended his hand. “I’m glad you could make it, Conor. It’s good to see you again, under happier circumstances.”

      “Yes, sir.” Conor shook hands with the father of the bride. “Congratulations, Ron. How are you two holding up today?”

      “Fine.” His forehead wrinkled with concern. “We should be asking you that question, though.”

      Leslie patted Conor’s stomach, tsk-tsking between her teeth. “You’re thinner, though. Are you eating well? Taking care of yourself?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “He’s fit, Les, not skinny.” Ron patted the cummerbund of his tuxedo. “I’m the one you need to be fattening up.” At six feet, Ron Karr towered over his wife, but he still had to look up to meet Conor’s gaze. “She’s got me on some crazy diet where I eat weeds and straw five nights a week. She hasn’t baked me a pie in six months. Trust me, once it’s cut, I am diving into that wedding cake.”

      “Oh, stop,” Leslie chided over the men’s laughter. “The doctor said we both needed to cut down on sugar and red meat.” She tilted her chin back up to Conor. “I promised your mother I’d keep an eye on you. Of course, I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that with you being a million miles away.”

      Conor grinned at the exaggeration. “It’s only eleven hundred miles.”

      Leslie frowned. “Is it really that far?”

      “A couple days’ drive. Or one really long one.”

      “You must be exhausted.”

      He hugged her shoulders, silently reassuring her that he’d passed his KCPD physical with flying colors, and that she didn’t need to honor the mom code of perennial worry. Not on his behalf. “I got in yesterday. I’m staying at Mom’s house. There are still a few things to go through there, some repairs I need to line up before I put her house on the market.”

      Leslie’s sigh was audible. “You’re selling Marie’s house? You’re not coming back? Ever?”

      Come back to what? Constant reminders of all he had lost here in Arlington? His old boss was here. Lisa. Memories of his mother. Even the ancient scars from his father. Still, Leslie’s stricken expression reminded him of those last days with his mother in the hospital. One of Marie Wildman’s regrets was that she’d never see her grandchildren.

      “Conor, you will have children? You’ll have a family?”

      He’d gently squeezed her frail hand and promised, telling her whatever she needed to hear to ease her worries and keep any last bit of strength she had for herself. Back then he’d been gutted by Lisa’s rejection. All he had left was the precious life slipping away in front of him. “I will, Mom. I promise. One day, I will.”

      “Don’t wait forever.” Marie’s hand had trembled in his. “Life isn’t always what you expect it to be. It’s been just you and me for a long time. And now I’m leaving you all alone. I wish I could be at your wedding. I wish I could see my grandchildren...”

       “Mom—”

      “I don’t regret a moment. I’ve been happy. I’ve lived a wonderful, fulfilling life. I want the same for you.” Even though her energy was flagging, there was a smile on her gaunt face. “I’ve always been so proud of you. My brave son risking his life for others. I don’t want you to mourn me forever. You live your life. Don’t you dare settle for anything. Or anyone. Lisa never understood how deeply you feel things—I don’t think you even know.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “But I do. The right woman is out there for you. I want you to love and be loved the way the way your father and I once...” Her voice faded away. He supposed heartache like hers never completely went away. “Find your happiness, son. Hold tight to it with both hands.”

       Life isn’t always what you expect it to be...

      Conor roused himself from his thoughts and smiled down at the woman who had always been like a favorite aunt to him. “I don’t know my future plans yet, Leslie. For right now, though, they’re in Kansas City.”

      Ron seemed to sense the dark turn of Conor’s thoughts and pulled his wife back to his side. “Les, dear, we’re holding up the line. The rest of our guests are waiting.” He shook Conor’s hand again. “Come by the house anytime. There’s still a gate in the fence connecting our backyards. The walkway is a little snow-packed this time of year, but it’s still there.”

      “Thanks. I’ll stop by before I leave town.”

      Still raw from that trip down memory lane, Conor wasn’t prepared for Lisa stepping out of line to hug him. For a moment, he stood there in shock. Another second gave him time to remember the way her tall frame fit against his body, like two pieces of a puzzle joining together. A third, saner moment reminded him to pat her back instead of squeezing her tightly, and then push her away. She wasn’t his to hold anymore.

      “Congratulations, kiddo. You’re a beautiful bride. But then, I never had any doubt you would be.”

      “Con—”

      “Take the compliment.” He cut her off before she could turn his words into any kind of apology.

      “Thank you.”

      Dismissing Lisa to move on down the reception line, he reached out to take Joe’s hand and pulled his friend in for a back-slapping bro hug. “Congratulations, man. You dress up pretty good for a numbers geek.”

      Joe grinned. “I can be taught.”

      But his intent to move past the bride and groom to greet Joe’s parents was thwarted by the tug of Lisa’s hand on his. “Are you happy, Con? Please be happy.”

      “Why is everyone so worried about my happiness?” he joked. “This is your day. We’re here to celebrate you two.”

      Lisa’s gaze darted to Joe, then back up to Conor. “We never meant for our engagement to hurt you. But I know it did. Losing your mom and then running away...” Her grip on his fingers tightened. “We’ve been so worried. You don’t call. You don’t write. Don’t throw away your life here because of us.”

      Conor pulled his hand from hers. He schooled the irritation out of his tone. “Guess what? I didn’t run away from anything. I went where the job took me. Remember? The job I’m obsessed with?” He immediately bit down on that snap of sarcasm and apologized. He was over this. He was over her. But being back in Arlington was stirring up painful memories. “You should be thinking about your honeymoon, not me. If you two aren’t happy together the rest of your lives, I’m gonna come back and kick both your butts.”

      “No worries, man,” Joe assured him, looking relieved to hear the teasing.

      “Thank you. You’re just so important to both of us.” Lisa’s next hug was a little too long and a little too uncomfortable. When he heard the telltale sniffle against his lapel, he leaned back, automatically pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket for her.

      But Joe had pulled one out, too. He tucked his into Lisa’s hand, kissed her cheek and suggested she take a break to powder her nose.

      “Sorry about that,” Conor apologized, balling his handkerchief into his fist. “That’s just the way my mama raised me.”

      Joe