My Best Man by Andy Schell (top 10 novels TXT) 📕

and downright obsequious at times. In between taking pictures of us in every situation, she makes sure that everyone’s drinks are full and that the table is set just right and that the conversation never lags for a moment. “I can tell by that accent that you’re a Texan, Amity. We have friends in Dallas. Where are you from in Texas?”

Amity tilts her head, and I know the F-word is coming. “Fort Worth, Mrs. Ford.”

“For heaven’s sake,” my mother says, “call me Susan.”

She never asked my ex-boyfriend, Matthew, to call her Susan. And when he did, I watched the hair on her neck rise just slightly. This is serious her immediate allowance of first name fights to

Amity and I see Winston’s venom rising in his throat.

Amity sees it as well. “Fort Worth, Susan.”

“Fort Worth,” my mom repeats. “I’ve been to Dallas, but not

Fort Worth. We have friends in Highland Park.”

“Of course,” Amity smiles.

“Fort Worth?” I ask teasingly. “Isn’t that an old abandoned frontier town with cow shit on the streets?”

Amity renounces her perfect manners to throw a cracker at me. “Harry! Don’t talk about my home town like that.”

I know why she threw the cracker. Winston has been watching her, inspecting her for authenticity, finding her perhaps a bit too studied, too polished. She’s a smart girl to have thrown that cracker.

“I knew a guy in the Air Force from Fort Worth,” Donald says. “One of the nicest guys I ever met.”

“See?” Amity answers, vindicated.

I pick the cracker up, dust it off, and eat it.

“Harry!” my brother Winston says distastefully. He hates anything to be dirty or improper. Including food. He washes bananas with soap and water before he peels and eats them.

“What?” I ask, crumbs flying out of my mouth as I aspirate the wh.

Amity giggles.

He dismisses me and tunas to Amity. “Is your family still there?” Winston asks, also holding his champagne glass by the stem, so as not to increase the temperature of the sparkling wine. “In Fort Worth?“l

“My folks are.” Amity smiles. “My momma and my and my grandmother too.”

Winston digs a little deeper. “Does you grandmother live with your momma and your daddy?” he asks, doing Elvis versions of the words.

“Oh, no,” Amity answers. “Grandmother has her own house. Of course it’s too large for her at this point, but she just can’t bear to leave it.”

I can hear Winston thinking, How large? And in what part town?

“That guy from Fort Worth,” Donald continues, “had a wife and two young daughters. They’d be about your age by now. You know the Hedelsons? Ever heard of a family of that name?”

“No, sir.” Amity answers, placing cheese on a cracker. “I sure I haven’ t. ‘

“He left the service. Became a dog breeder. Never knew anyone who knew so much about Rottweilers.”

Amity smiles, reminisces. “We had a German dog too. Weimaraner. Duchess.”

“We had a Duchess!” my mother exclaims. “But ours was a dachshund.”

“A weenie dog!” Amity spouts, looking at Winston. She’s off the track again, confusing Winston with her irreverent bravado. “That’ sGerman too.”

“So where did you go to college, Amity?” Winston asks. Uh-oh. He’s used her real name, This means he’ sgoing for the kill. I think she senses it. She sits ever so higher in her chair. Answers, “CCT in Fort Worth.”

He smiles that smile. “And what does CCT stand for? Cold Calculating Tech?”

Amity laughs. “No. Christian College of Texas.”

“Education is a religious experience,” my mother declares for Amity’s benefit.

Amity exhales. “I agree, Susan.” She takes a sip of champagne.

“A good cabernet is a religious experience, Susan,” Winston says.

“Don’t be facetious,” Mother answers.

“So,” Winston continues, ready for the big hit, “when did you graduate?”

She hesitates. Will she tell the truth? “I didn’t,” she answers,

her hands crossed in her lap.

“You didn’t graduate? Don’t you feel it’s a burden, being uneducated?”

“Winston!” my mother shrieks.

“For Christ’s sake, you little shit!” Donald barks.

I want to kill him, but as Winston raises his chin slightly in victory, Amity rallies. “It’s OK. He’s right. It is a bit of a burden at times. You see, the reason I left was to get married. Sadly, the marriage never happened. But I’m proud of myself for following my heart.” With a hint of tears in her eyes, she uncrosses her hands and reaches them both out to take mine in hers. “I’ve been waiting all my life for the right person to come along. And I believe he has. And don’t think that I don’t know everything there is to know about Harry and his past. I do. But when love calls, a person has no choice but to answer.”

God, this is so cornball. I feel as if I’m in some syndicated soap opera that couldn’t even make it to the major networks. The only

thing that makes it work is Amity. She’s so committed, so convincing, that even Winston can’t decide if it’s an act or not.

Amity raises our hands in the air and gives me that look that says I’m the finest man in the world and finishes, “And that’ swhy I’ve proudly agreed to become Mrs. Harry Ford.”

My mother puts her hand to her cheek so hard she accidentally slaps herself. Donald knocks over his chair when he stands and congratulates me, nearly shaking my hand off. He tells me I’m doing the right thing and how proud my father would be. My mother grabs the camera and flashes on our Kodak moment. Then she drops. the camera on a chair cushion and hugs us both with manic energy. “When did this happen? I can’t believe it! You never gave me any reason to think this visit was so important!” she squawks.

“It was a recent decision,” I choke. I’m too shocked to say anything else, but try to play it out, because I know Winston is watching. It’s not that we haven’t discussed it, but to hear it go from a possibility to a reality leaves me so stunned that all I can do is put my arm