Coach Love(63)

Dominic hadn’t been this bad in years, not since that god-awful month right after he’d graduated high school when he’d gone to a party then disappeared. Their mother had nearly lost her mind over it, and he’d never seen his father so furious when they finally did find him. He’d been hiding away in an old Airstream trailer behind one of his former teachers’ houses. The woman had let him stay there, keeping him in beer and pills and sex until she’d found him passed out from an overdose and had to call an ambulance, which necessitated an awkward call to his parents.

Once he got past this day, Kieran vowed to launch into a revive Dominic campaign. Kieran thought he grasped the depth of Dom’s problems and sometimes wondered if they should stop medicating him and let him live the way he wanted to live. But regardless, he was determined to help the man in any way he could.

“Stop starin’ at me.” Dom kept his face turned toward the passenger-side window.

Kieran drove the last few miles to the picturesque church he had attended since his birth. The parking lot and the field across from it overflowed with cars. A tent had been set up for a small reception after the ceremony before the full-on party began at some country club in Lexington he had no intention of attending. But he’d been invited to this ceremony and his mother had insisted that he go, out of support for his friend. Throat-choking panic at the thought of actually seeing Cara walk down the aisle toward another man gripped him.

He parked in the back forty and they sat in silence, not moving. Finally Dom lurched out of the car. “Come on,” he called out. “Grow a pair. She’s not yours anymore. Let’s go.”

Dom made his way through the parked cars toward the church. The closer he got, the better he walked as if making a conscious effort to appear sober. Kieran took a long breath, slammed the car door, and followed him.

The sanctuary, which had no modern air conditioning, felt like the inner sanctum of hell on this early fall day. All the windows had been thrown open to catch any breeze available. Even the flowers and ribbons and all the froufrou decorating the place seemed wilted in the withering heat. He stopped, seized with anxiety when he spotted the lawyer tool walk in from a side door and take his position by the minister.

Dom shoved him into a rear pew, pretty much the only one left at this point. “Get over it,” he muttered under his breath. Kieran nodded and pasted on something he hoped could pass as a happy face.

They’d arrived in time to see Cara’s bridesmaids process past in their varying shades of summery dresses and holding sunflowers. Leave it to Cara to not make her friends buy new dresses, he thought, wincing when the crowd rose at the first strains of the wedding march.

Both doors opened, revealing her in a rich, creamy dress, formfitting, highlighting her petite lushness and making his throat go dry. Her rich auburn hair flowed around her shoulders. Her gaze was bright and fixed forward on her future husband. As it should be. The gathered crowd sighed with delight when she began walking forward.

A ringing hit his ears when she met his gaze, as if knowing he’d be there, right in the spot he’d chosen. He tried to smile, be a good and supportive friend, to recall how angry he’d been at her when she’d dumped him for no good reason all those years ago.

This could be him, right now. Marrying that bitch Melinda. He took a breath and opened eyes he hadn’t remembered closing as Cara made her way toward her future.

Everyone sat. Kieran grabbed his knees. There had to be a moment somewhere in all the talking where the preacher asked if anyone protested, or could give a reason why the couple shouldn’t marry. He could jump up, make a scene like some lame ass in a crappy romantic movie. Determined not to listen to any of it, lest he do that very thing, he kept staring at the floor between his feet.

Dom elbowed him and jerked his chin toward the aisle, so he glanced over at his mother. “You okay?” she mouthed. He nodded and resumed his study of the hardwood. His senses went into overdrive as anxiety engulfed him. Breathing sounds from spectators filled his ears. Flowers, perfume, soap, even a whiff of coffee brewing somewhere made him want to gag.

Dom stretched his legs out under the pew in front of them and let out a huge sigh. Kieran experienced a jolt of guilt for making Dom endure this with him. The man must be in a dark place right now. His brother must have been going downhill for a few months, but Kieran had been too caught up in his own mire of BS to pay attention. He should be helping Dom, not vice versa. Focusing on his new coaching job, he counted down from a hundred, hoping the whole thing would be over by the time he made it to one.