Fisher's Light
Page 56
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I feel like a hypocrite for wanting Fisher to bare his soul when I’ve done nothing but alternately avoid him like the plague and seek him out only to behave like a shrew. I’m not sure if I’m prepared to forgive him for what he did to me, but I know he doesn’t deserve my anger right now. We never had a problem talking until the end of our relationship. Having lunch with him at the Lobster Bucket a few weeks ago and falling right back into our old ways made me miss the ease of being with him. I’ve tried so hard to forget him, to move on and be happy, but as soon as he reappeared in my life, I realized letting go was impossible when I still love him. I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to pretend like I was just confused being close to him again, but I can’t do that anymore.
I love him and I’m scared to death that he’ll break my heart all over again.
Chapter 27
From Fisher’s Journal
January 23, 2006
My parent’s 24,000 square foot home is filled to the brim with guests and caterers and I stare out of my old bedroom window watching more and more cars come up the drive to be parked by the valets my mother hired.
I tug nervously on the pale blue tie of my black tuxedo, trying to loosen it so I don’t feel like I’m suffocating. My palms are already sweating and my hands are shaking, so I really don’t want to add passing out to the mix. I wish I could say that it was just wedding day jitters making me feel this way, but that would be a lie. The only thing keeping me from jumping out of this second-story window is the knowledge that I’m marrying Lucy today. The problem I’m having is with all the people. So many fucking people. Since I got back from my deployment, I’ve avoided large groups of people, preferring to be alone working on my furniture or curled up somewhere in the house with Lucy. I can’t handle all the noise, all the chatter and all the questions that come along with being around so many people.
“Oh, honey, your tie…”
I continue staring blankly out the window as my mother rushes across the room to me, fiddling with my tie and making it tighter than it was before. She runs her palms down the front of my tie to smooth it down when she’s finished and then takes a step back to look at me.
“Perfect! You look so handsome, Fisher!” she moves back and buttons the coat of my tux, brushing the shoulders and the sleeves of the jacket to get rid of any lint or stray hairs while she prattles about shit I don’t care about. “The guests have almost all arrived and the caterers are passing out hors d’oeuvres and champagne while they wait to be seated. Wait until you see the flower arrangements I ordered for the reception. I had blue hydrangeas and orchids flown in to match the wedding colors…”
I tune her out and try counting backwards from a hundred in my head. Even being a floor above all the guests and workers, I can still hear the hum of their voices and laughter, the clink of glasses and the slamming of doors. My ears start to ring and my head aches with so much pressure that it feels like it might explode. I want peace and quiet… I want Lucy. I need Lucy to wrap her arms around me and whisper in my ear that everything is okay.
I must have muttered Lucy’s name out loud while my mom was droning on about food and decorations because she crosses her arms and glares at me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“You cannot see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” she informs me.
No, bad luck is not getting the wedding you wanted, the small, intimate gathering of close family and friends on the beach at sunset. Bad luck is this circus going on downstairs with hundreds of people Lucy and I have never met before. My father was against the wedding from day one, but he certainly is playing the part of a proud father of the groom today, inviting everyone he’s ever done business with and kissing ass as soon as they walk in the door. He’s been parading people around “The Estate” all morning, showing off expensive artwork and the like, smiling his fake smile and laughing his fake laugh whenever anyone asks him if he’s excited to become a father-in-law today.
A loud crash sounds from somewhere in the house and I instinctively cover my head and drop to the ground. I hold my breath and wait for the sound of gunfire and explosions to fill the air, but nothing comes. I suddenly feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder and I shake my head to clear it, feeling like a complete idiot.
“Fisher?” she whispers nervously as I push myself up from the floor and take a few deep breaths.
I’m not in the desert, I’m in my parents’ home. Everything is fine, I just need to calm down.
“I’m fine, mom, it’s nothing,” I tell her distractedly as I walk around her and head towards the door. There’s no point in admitting I just had a flashback. I’m pretty sure she realized that as soon as I dropped to the ground and wrapped my arms around my head.
I need Lucy. I don’t care what tradition says, I fucking need to see her right now or I’m never going to be able to calm down. I need to see that she’s safe and happy and hasn’t changed her mind about marrying into this fucked-up family.
As soon as I get out in the hallway, I pick up my pace, jogging down the hallway until I come to the staircase leading up to the third floor. I take the steps two at a time, my heart beating faster and my spirits lifting the closer I get to the room Lucy is in. When I get to the top of the stairs, I take off running full speed, my tie flying out behind me as I head towards the opposite side of the house.
I don’t even stop to knock when I get to the closed double doors at the end of the hallway. Grabbing onto both handles, I throw open the doors and step inside the huge room that my mother had set up for Lucy to get ready in. Mirrors line every wall and make-up and hair products clutter the tables, but I only have eyes for the woman standing on the far side of the room in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.
I love him and I’m scared to death that he’ll break my heart all over again.
Chapter 27
From Fisher’s Journal
January 23, 2006
My parent’s 24,000 square foot home is filled to the brim with guests and caterers and I stare out of my old bedroom window watching more and more cars come up the drive to be parked by the valets my mother hired.
I tug nervously on the pale blue tie of my black tuxedo, trying to loosen it so I don’t feel like I’m suffocating. My palms are already sweating and my hands are shaking, so I really don’t want to add passing out to the mix. I wish I could say that it was just wedding day jitters making me feel this way, but that would be a lie. The only thing keeping me from jumping out of this second-story window is the knowledge that I’m marrying Lucy today. The problem I’m having is with all the people. So many fucking people. Since I got back from my deployment, I’ve avoided large groups of people, preferring to be alone working on my furniture or curled up somewhere in the house with Lucy. I can’t handle all the noise, all the chatter and all the questions that come along with being around so many people.
“Oh, honey, your tie…”
I continue staring blankly out the window as my mother rushes across the room to me, fiddling with my tie and making it tighter than it was before. She runs her palms down the front of my tie to smooth it down when she’s finished and then takes a step back to look at me.
“Perfect! You look so handsome, Fisher!” she moves back and buttons the coat of my tux, brushing the shoulders and the sleeves of the jacket to get rid of any lint or stray hairs while she prattles about shit I don’t care about. “The guests have almost all arrived and the caterers are passing out hors d’oeuvres and champagne while they wait to be seated. Wait until you see the flower arrangements I ordered for the reception. I had blue hydrangeas and orchids flown in to match the wedding colors…”
I tune her out and try counting backwards from a hundred in my head. Even being a floor above all the guests and workers, I can still hear the hum of their voices and laughter, the clink of glasses and the slamming of doors. My ears start to ring and my head aches with so much pressure that it feels like it might explode. I want peace and quiet… I want Lucy. I need Lucy to wrap her arms around me and whisper in my ear that everything is okay.
I must have muttered Lucy’s name out loud while my mom was droning on about food and decorations because she crosses her arms and glares at me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“You cannot see the bride before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” she informs me.
No, bad luck is not getting the wedding you wanted, the small, intimate gathering of close family and friends on the beach at sunset. Bad luck is this circus going on downstairs with hundreds of people Lucy and I have never met before. My father was against the wedding from day one, but he certainly is playing the part of a proud father of the groom today, inviting everyone he’s ever done business with and kissing ass as soon as they walk in the door. He’s been parading people around “The Estate” all morning, showing off expensive artwork and the like, smiling his fake smile and laughing his fake laugh whenever anyone asks him if he’s excited to become a father-in-law today.
A loud crash sounds from somewhere in the house and I instinctively cover my head and drop to the ground. I hold my breath and wait for the sound of gunfire and explosions to fill the air, but nothing comes. I suddenly feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder and I shake my head to clear it, feeling like a complete idiot.
“Fisher?” she whispers nervously as I push myself up from the floor and take a few deep breaths.
I’m not in the desert, I’m in my parents’ home. Everything is fine, I just need to calm down.
“I’m fine, mom, it’s nothing,” I tell her distractedly as I walk around her and head towards the door. There’s no point in admitting I just had a flashback. I’m pretty sure she realized that as soon as I dropped to the ground and wrapped my arms around my head.
I need Lucy. I don’t care what tradition says, I fucking need to see her right now or I’m never going to be able to calm down. I need to see that she’s safe and happy and hasn’t changed her mind about marrying into this fucked-up family.
As soon as I get out in the hallway, I pick up my pace, jogging down the hallway until I come to the staircase leading up to the third floor. I take the steps two at a time, my heart beating faster and my spirits lifting the closer I get to the room Lucy is in. When I get to the top of the stairs, I take off running full speed, my tie flying out behind me as I head towards the opposite side of the house.
I don’t even stop to knock when I get to the closed double doors at the end of the hallway. Grabbing onto both handles, I throw open the doors and step inside the huge room that my mother had set up for Lucy to get ready in. Mirrors line every wall and make-up and hair products clutter the tables, but I only have eyes for the woman standing on the far side of the room in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.
