Standard Disclaimer: All characters that have appeared in Hannah Montana are the intellectual property of the Walt Disney Company. I respect Disney's ownership of these characters, even if I sometimes disagree with what they do with them.
The One That Got Away
By
James Doyle
From the memoirs of Jackson Stewart
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Here I stood, in the spectacular setting of St. John's Episcopal Cathedral in Los Angeles. Growing up Baptist, there was a lot more pomp and circumstance than I would've preferred. But it was all good, because I was just the Best Man. This day belonged to Oliver Oken, the luckiest bridegroom there ever was. I thought I was ready for this. I thought I could be happy for the couple. I thought I could move on.
I was kidding myself.
I watched the various bridesmaids march in, until finally I saw my sister Miley. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, with just a hint of a tear in her eye and grinning from ear to ear. Dressed in purple, she was the prettiest Maid of Honor I'd ever seen, though she'd never hear me admit it.
As the string quartet started playing what someone had told me was Johann Pachabel's Canon in D, I knew the moment of truth had arrived. I looked down the aisle to see my dad, looking unusually dapper in his tuxedo. On his arm was a bride so radiant that words failed me. Shining white bridal gown with a medium-length train, a meticulously-crafted veil and headdress, and her dark blonde hair done up in the most elaborate hairdo I'd ever seen.
As long as I'd known her, I'd called her Lilly Truscott, a name that was soon to change. She and Oliver had been going out since their junior year of high school. They got through a year of college before deciding they couldn't wait any longer for each other. Unfortunately, it didn't come soon enough for Lilly's father, who had passed away just eighteen months earlier. Since she was practically a part of our family, I couldn't think of anyone better than Robbie Ray Stewart to give her away.
Give her away. That's what he was doing. In just a few minutes, she and Oliver would be one in covenant union, and the Lilly I knew would be gone forever. The Lilly I knew, the Lilly I loved. I couldn't admit it to myself until she and Oliver started going out. Of course I didn't say anything then. How could I? I'm Oliver's best guy friend. I could never do anything to hurt him.
So what'd I do? I stood aside graciously. What else could I do? I had my chance; I let it pass me by. Why? Pride. Ugly, stinking, selfish pride. My ego just wouldn't take my admitting that I was in love with a girl two years younger than me. Or worse, that I was in love with my sister's best friend. I suppose I could've gotten over that. But then, I noticed Lilly and Oliver starting to look at each other in a certain way. They spent a few months in denial, but then they had a magic moment on the dance floor, and the rest was history. As I said before, Oliver was one of my best buds. I knew he hadn't had the best of luck with women, and his last girlfriend Joannie tried her level best to mold him into what she thought he'd be. When he and Lilly got together, I knew it was the right thing. Here was a girl who had always accepted him for who he was, and could learn to love the same. I was getting ready to head off to Tennessee U, so I decided the best thing was to let the relationship take its course. I still thought it was the right thing. But every so often, I'd beat myself up internally, thinking Stupid, stupid, stupid to myself.
By the time I'd run through that rigmarole in my head, I'd already missed the priest's opening remarks. But an old, familiar line, spoken by wedding officiants since the time of the Reformation caught my attention.
"If any know of any reason that this man, and this woman, may not be lawfully joined," said the priest, "Let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."
I started to say something, but I knew it was both inappropriate and wrong, so I clammed up. I maintained my silence, and what little of my composure I could, until it came time to present the rings. Slowly and carefully, I let them out of my hand and into the priest's, at which point he dropped one of them, causing an uproar of laughter from the crowd. Everyone except me. Actually, as the ring hit the floor, I seriously entertained the idea of making a dive for it and refusing to give it back. Maybe I could delay the ceremony just long enough for Lilly and/or Oliver to realize the whole thing was a mistake.
But they wouldn't, because it wasn't a mistake. It was the right thing, and as much as I refused to accept it, in center of my being, I knew it. So the ceremony continued without interference from me, until the priest spoke yet another set of famous words.
"By the authority vested in me by God's church, and the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
Lilly and Oliver didn't hold anything back as they sealed their union with a kiss.
"Dearly beloved," concluded the priest, "I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Oken."
The applause rose, and it was all over. Lilly and Oliver belonged to one another forever. The two were as one, there wasn't the tiniest space between them into which I could drive a wedge. I tried with all my being to banish the thought from my head. It had been awhile since I'd taken a serious look at the Good Book, but a certain text flashed in my mind as though written in neon lights:
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour's.
Indeed, thou shalt not. I wouldn't. As hard as this was to accept, I knew I had no choice.
For the next several hours, I rode around the Los Angeles region, which had an abundance of scenic locations in which to take bridal pictures. I thought the La Brea Tar Pits were a bit of an odd choice, but I went with it. As much as I could, anyway. I never realized just how catatonic I looked until the bridal pictures came back.
Finally, as the sun hung low in the sky, we arrived at the Los Angeles Tipton Hotel, where the dance floor of the Grand Ballroom opened out right onto the beach.
"Jackson, are you all right?" asked Miley as we prepared to process into the ballroom.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied.
"If you're not up to giving the toast, I'm sure Oliver will understand."
"It's fine," I assured her. "I can get through it."
Miley took my arm, and I mechanically escorted her to the bridal party's table. Once we were seated, I discretely took out my flask and slipped a nip of vodka into my champagne. As it came time to give the toast, I needed it.
"Oliver Oken," I began. "You and I have had some wicked times together. Parties, get rich quick schemes, even an occasional brush with the law. But you and Lilly have much more than that. You've been friends since kindergarten. You've already seen the best and worst of each other. You've dated other people, but anyone with any sense knew there wasn't a force on this earth that could stop this day from coming. Lilly, you've been more than a friend to Miley and I. You've been like a member of the family. So I can't think of anyone better to take care of the two of you than one another. Oliver and Lilly Oken, God bless."
Glasses clinked, and applause rose. A few more toasts followed, the details of which I'll probably never remember. Dinner was some form of inedible hotel food. Once we'd eaten, the time had come to hit the dance floor.
I watched my father out there on the floor with Lilly, dewy-eyed as he'd have been were she his own flesh-and-blood. A few moments later, Oliver stepped onto the floor. Dad kissed Lilly on the cheek, and handed her over to her new husband. I was so mesmerized that it took a gentle prod from Miley to get me out onto the dance floor with her.
"That was very brave of you," commended Miley after a few moments of dancing in silence.
"Nah, it was the least I could do for my best guy friend."
Miley scrunched up her face and reverted to hillbilly mode. "Jackson, don't give me that horse-hockey."
I growled in concession.
"I know you liked her," continued Miley. "Heck, I had few weird dreams about it a few years back. But letting her go was the right thing. I'm glad you worked up the courage to do it."
After a few more dances, the moment I was both looking forward to and dreading came: My chance to dance with the bride.
"Evening, Lilly," came the first words I'd said to Lilly since she'd become Mrs. Oken. Somehow, I finally managed to crack a smile. "You look amazing."
Lilly blushed, which clashed with her sea green eyes. "Thanks. You clean up pretty nice, yourself."
"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Lilly sighed. "Was I really that bad to you?"
I smiled again. "No, actually, you were more supportive than Miley at times."
"Give her a break," defended Lilly. "She was under a lot of stress."
"Yeah, I know," I acknowledged. "And she has gotten a lot nicer since Hannah Montana went into retirement."
"There was some talk of Hannah making an appearance," noted Lilly, "But we all decided against it."
"I'm glad," I said, sincerely, "This is your day."
"I'm glad you could be a part of it," replied Lilly, who drew me into a hug before switching dance partners.
Later that evening, I watched as Lilly tossed the bouquet. I was pleased to see Miley catch it. I sat out the throwing of the garter, opting to watch from the sidelines. It fell between two guys I didn't know to be caught by…wait for it…Rico! I couldn't help but laugh as Miley reluctantly stood to have her picture taken with Rico, who proudly displayed the garter on his upper arm.
I looked on wistfully as Oliver and Lilly charged out of the ballroom, being showered with rice. I ran with the crowd that followed them around to the front of the hotel. I saw them wave goodbye with a sly grin on their faces. They started making out just as the elevator door closed, taking them to their honeymoon suite.
By that time, I'd had all the hobnobbing I could handle, so I pressed the elevator button and took the next car up to my room.
End of Chapter One