A Little Hope(31)

She smiles. “Of course.” She sips the last of her drink. “Please don’t tell me we’re being called back for more pictures.”

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. “If they do, let’s just agree we’re escaping.”

She offers her hand. “Deal.” He holds it and they shake.

“You know what this wedding is missing?” He clears his throat. “Reindeer.”

“I’ll tell Suzette.”

“I’m serious. Wouldn’t a pen of reindeer on the lawn that we could go out and visit, maybe feed them some oats or something, be just the thing?” His green tie is loose, the top button of his shirt is undone.

“I would feed a reindeer if given the opportunity.”

“Hell, you could check its vitals, too, couldn’t you, Doc?”

“I probably could.” She shakes her head.

“I like Doc. That’s what I’m going to call you.”

She’ll probably never see this guy again after tonight, but she lets him think they’ll keep whatever this is going. When she met him last night at the rehearsal dinner, he fist-bumped her. He said, “You hit the jackpot. I’m the most fun guy here, even though I’m an accountant.” She says now: “I’ve been called Doc before, but you say it in the most charming way.”

“It’s cool that you’re a big doctor and you don’t act like it,” he says.

She smiles.

“Anyway, I think they want us to sit and eat now.” The band is finishing up “Someone to Watch over Me,” and she looks at the long table reserved for the wedding party where Suzette, Damon, and the others have gathered.

“Ah,” she says. “Lobster time.” She realizes how hungry she is.

“Want me to escort you… for old time’s sake?” He puts out his arm. “After tonight, who knows when we’ll be paired together again?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she says, and laces her arm through his. “It would be my pleasure.”

“So what are you going to do with the dress after this?” he asks as he leads her across the room. The band has switched over to prerecorded music. Something instrumental. Along the table, there is a salad at every place, and the goblets are filled with water.

She looks down at her feet, how they walk in tune with his. “Maybe every year I’ll have a fancy Christmas party to go to, and it’ll be just the thing to wear. Maybe I’ll still wear it at seventy and they’ll think I’ve gone off the deep end.”

“Doc, you say some funny shit.” He pulls out her chair for her, his face close to hers. He looks at her, and she looks at him. She doesn’t know what she feels. Something light. Something that makes her nervous. Maybe it’s the martini. Maybe it’s the piano music. But whatever this is, she smiles as he reaches for her hand. She blushes as he bends, like an old-fashioned gentleman, and kisses the tops of her knuckles.



* * *



Later they take a walk outside. The frozen grass crunches as they stroll across the expansive grounds. There are tall pine trees and a row of blue spruces in the distance. It is cold, but a still, windless cold. A cold you don’t mind. Men stand by the French doors and smoke cigars, and a little girl, maybe Suzette’s cousin, sings “Jingle Bell Rock” amid a circle of delighted adults. Ginger can still hear the band from inside. They walk by lit trees, and there is a huge sleigh with a spotlight on it in the grass by a stable. “Shit,” Ahmed says, “this is right where the reindeer pen could go.” She sees his breath in the air. Her heels dig into the cold ground every so often. He slips off his coat, and offers it to her, a gesture that seems clichéd, but she doesn’t care. The coat is warm. He never stops moving, she has noticed. Maybe he is never cold.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Nah, I was just hot,” he says. He kicks a piece of ice in the grass with his polished shoes. “So what are you doing after this?”

“Staying at my parents’ house… and then I fly back to Savannah after Christmas.” She knows she doesn’t sound excited. So matter-of-fact.

“No, I mean…” He gestures toward the wedding. “Does this shit scare you? Do you feel like you have to change your life after events like this?” He puts his hands into his pockets. “I do. I mean, now that Damon’s out to pasture, there aren’t too many of us who aren’t married. And people keep saying to him, finally. Like, you finally did it. Finally makes me think it’s way past time. It scares me. I guess I should be doing something different.” She can’t believe this guy is expressing exactly what she feels, and is being so honest and real. Yes, real. He is a real person. His smooth face has a glow to it.

“I don’t think it is way past time,” she lies. It is, at least for her.

She wonders when she’ll finally arrive where she wants to be. What will it feel like? She imagines Suzette and Damon coming home from their honeymoon in Greece and Croatia. That relieved and settled feeling they will have. “You seem like a pretty young guy,” she says.

He keeps his head straight, but his eyes move to the side. He smiles. “Thanks. But it’s just an act. I have fucking retirement savings, man. I go for yearly physicals, I fall asleep when I drink red wine.”