Behold, All Things Are Become New

Sneak Peek

I ignored the groomsmen’s snickering. My whistling, “Get Me to the Church on Time”, never sounded flatter and discordant. Though raising my volume steadied my hands, the strip of cloth I wrestled to turn into a bow tie had a mind of its own.

“Tyler, it’s morning—you’re already at the church.”

“Aargh.” I yanked the tie, cracked my knuckles, and dove into the task again. All the while, the Florida sun seemed to penetrate the walls despite the air conditioning.

“Don’t choke yourself, man.” My friend chuckled and adjusted his cummerbund.

Another snapped his suspenders. “The duffel bag boy gets married.”

Six years ago, I hitched my way here from a small Illinois rivertown. Lots had changed. Pressing a hand against the wall shored me up enough to face a mirror smugged with fingerprints, until the door to the Sunday school room-turned-dressing area burst open.

“Tyler!”

Bryce filled the doorway—my best man’s face swelling like a puffer fish. His usual composure on an EMT call, delivering a crowning baby on a sidewalk—gone.

My whistling died.

“Someone here says he’s your dad.” He glanced sideways as if to keep him from slipping in. “Wants to talk to you.”

“Huh? Speak English, bro. What are you talking about?”

His slow blink and lips pressed together seemed to wait for me to catch up. When I did, life rewound all the way back to cigarette burns and welts from a belt buckle. An acrid tang rose in my mouth, the taste of nights I’d rather forget. I tore at the uncooperative tie and crumpled it.

“He wasn’t a dad. Just a wannabe boxer in need of a punching bag.”

Bryce’s eyes softened, knowing my history. His eyes softened and the corners of his mouth curved upward as he waited for what I intended to do. I jammed the tie into my pocket and stewed. 

“Drunk, isn’t he?” How’d he ever manage to get down here?

“Seems calm and collected.”

“Blast it!” 

The groomsmen milled about, adjusting their jackets, whispering in hushed tones. If he was in fact drunk, Bryce and the guys could cart him off, but I couldn’t allow a showstopper in front of Julie or her family.

Trickles of sweat worked their way into the cracked terrain of old scars dotting my back. I reached to scratch one, angered that it still itched after all these years.

I paced the room caged by my thoughts. Agreeing to see him meant an opening for him to worm his way back into my life. My stomach tightened further when the wedding coordinator announced from the hallway only five minutes until marching time.

“Stink!” I hoped my father understood that I didn’t appreciate his ill-timed intrusion.

“And?” Bryce asked.

“Not on your life!”

He stepped inside. “Buddy …” His voice dropped as he laid a hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to shake it off. “… I can only imagine what you’re feeling. But might you reconsider?”

My voice rose to meet his challenge. “Eight years ago, he dumped me on a county road. Remember that.”

Bryce’s smile pinched before he continued, picking up where he left off as if I hadn’t even said anything. “Not for him. To free yourself—so it’s not hanging over you on your big day?”

“I found freedom when I thumbed my way here after graduation. He’s not taking it back—especially today.”

He withdrew his hand. “It’s up to you, buddy.”

“Yes, it is!”

I popped my jaw and ran a hand through freshly cut hair.

“Sure?”

I leaned in. “Whose side are you on, best man?”

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