“At the staff barbeque. When she heard I was working for Frankie Donuts, she thought it would be a great thing to offer as an extracurricular activity to the kids to further their education.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I work on the presentation during the day when I’m not working on social media. I want to make it good, you know? Give it some thought. Not just throw it up there and hope for the best. I’ve been to my fair share of presentations, and I don’t want kids walking out, thinking, ‘Wow, that was a waste of my time.’”
“Well, if you ever want to practice in front of me, you know I’ll listen.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. Her finger strokes over my collarbone. “Is this what a marriage is supposed to be like? Listening to each other, being interested in each other’s lives, being there when you need them . . . fucking like animals?”
I chuckle at the last part and say, “I think marriage can be however we want it to be. Clearly, we haven’t had good examples to follow, but I think as long as we continue to communicate and enjoy each other, that’s all that really matters.”
She smiles. “I like you, Pike Greyson. Never thought I’d say that when I first saw the pictures of us hanging out of the Uber car with a Just Married sign, but I do. I really like you.”
I know for certain that I don’t just like the girl staring back at me with her beautiful eyes and addicting smile . . . I’m starting to love her.
“Keiko, this doesn’t feel right.”
With a cloth measuring tape draped over her shoulders, fingers perched to her lip, she walks around me, studying. Her eyes feel like lasers, taking in every last inch of me, until she adjusts her glasses and says, “No, that’s correct.”
Well, fuck me, then, because I never should’ve agreed to this “man of honor” thing.
Keiko has me cinched up in a tight, aristocrat-style, light blue—sheen—tuxedo with a puffy lace neck thing and all. The pants hug my junk, the cravat tickles my chin and makes me feel far too fucking fancy, and the knee-high stockings are uncalled for. I feel like goddamn George Washington on his wedding day. I’m just missing the wig.
“You actually appear quite dapper,” Keiko says, taking a step back. “And the hue of this blue will go perfectly with the winter wonderland décor the girls have promised me.” Keiko steps up to me and drags her fingers over the fabric. “Lovely. Just lovely.”
“What do you think?” the costume tailor asks, stepping into the room.
“We shall take it,” Keiko says with a snap of her fingers and a stomp of her foot. “Huzzah!”
How does the saying go? If the bride is happy, then I should be happy?
I just can’t imagine what the fuck Cora is going to say when she sees me.
“I’ll wrap it up for you.” The tailor closes in on my space. “Do you need my assistance in taking it off?”
I hold up my hand. “I’m good. Thank you.” I’ve had enough of his groping at this point.
I wiggle into the dressing room and shed the clothing as quickly as I can. If I didn’t like Keiko so much, there’s no way in hell I would ever wear what she picked out. But it’s Keiko. She’s different, and I wouldn’t want to make her feel bad for her fashion choices, as strange as they are.
Once I’m dressed in normal clothes, I take the outfit to the front and pull out my wallet, ready to pay.
“I’ve already compensated them for their services,” Keiko says.
“You bought my outfit?”
“Of course.” She holds open a bag. “For convenience of carrying.”
Perplexed, I stick the outfit in the bag and then take it from her. “Keiko, this couldn’t have been cheap. I’m more than happy to pay for it.”
“Not necessary. ’Tis not a garment you would frequent, I’m aware, therefore, I shall make the acquisition.”
“Keiko—”
“We will not discuss it any further.”
I guess not.
“Well, thank you.”
She glances at the ground and says, “No, thank you.” When her eyes meet mine, I’m struck by her genuine expression. “I realize I am quite different, Pike. More different than my companions. I can also be quite contrary and unamenable. At times, I don’t understand your, or the girls’ sensitivities. Sarcasm is not my second language, and I sense my awkwardness in recreational settings. But as a ton, you have accepted me for who I am, and shown benevolence to me for the personage I’ll always be.” She reaches out and touches my hand. “I never experienced such friendship, especially in my preadolescence. I am filled with gratitude for you.”