Chapter Eleven
It'd been nearly a month since Tuck had ended his relationship with Katie. He still went over to her house to see Joe, have dinner with them and send his son to bed, but little else. His relationship with Katie was more platonic than before, nicer in some ways, but anything romantic had ended at some point during their argument that night.
Surprisingly, Tuck was alright with it. He felt like there was proper closure with it this time. Before, she'd left with Joe without a word, really. It was abrupt and it left him with too many unresolved feelings for her. Now, it'd come to its natural conclusion.
Sometimes, Tuck's mind would still drift to that random statement Katie left him with that night. It swirled around in his head no matter how much he tried to ignore it. It still didn't make sense to him, really. What did she mean by it?
The triumphant shout from Foster brought Tuck out of his thoughts. His eyes shot to the pool table. Two more of Foster's billiard balls were gone. Tuck scowled. He was falling further and further behind in the game. Thankfully, when Foster shot again, he scratched, the cue ball following his nine into the pocket.
Tuck did his best to concentrate on the game, but it was more difficult than he'd have liked. Foster noticed. He noticed how his brother's focus waned, how it was clearly somewhere else. He knew what happened between Tuck and Katie, his brother had told him, so he wasn't entirely surprised to see him divided, but Foster also knew something else.
After hearing the news, he called Katie to hear the other half of what happened. It wasn't that Tuck hadn't told him as much as possible, it was more that he knew Tuck hadn't said everything. For all his strengths, Tuck had trouble seeing finer details when it came to his own life. Foster knew there were likely a few things he missed.
When he spoke to Katie, she was livid that he'd told Tuck the truth. Foster explained it was an off-handed comment meant to smooth things over, but had the opposite effect. Still, he was sure to tell her he wasn't sorry. The only thing he regretted was never saying anything sooner.
Katie filled him in on what the entire conversation had been, and how it ended. After venting for roughly ten minutes, bombarding him with questions about "Angela" and Tuck's relationship, she finally told him something he already knew about the pair. Foster had been around them much more frequently than Katie, so of course he knew there were feelings there. He wasn't an idiot, but now that things were possibly clearer than before, that the way had been opened, Tuck might see it, too.
Tuck's stick made a grating, high-pitched clank as it glanced the edge of the cue balls, sending the white orbs barely more than a foot away at an odd angle. Tuck instantly scowled while Foster winced.
Grumbling something, Tuck stood and backed away from the table. He reached for his beer and took a long pull, still scowling at the table. With a sigh, Foster set his stick aside. He stepped towards his brother, Tuck slowly meeting his gaze.
"What?" he asked a bit tersely. Foster was fairly certain he hadn't realized he'd spoken that way in the first place.
Foster arched a brow. "What's with you?" he asked, despite being fairly certain he knew the reason.
"Nothing." He replied, doing his best to remain casual. FDR didn't believe him and the look he gave said as much. "What?" his voice was higher than before, but not without it'd increasingly familiar tone.
"Just… stop." FDR sighed. He leveled his gaze on his best friend, a man he'd known more than half his life. "Tell me what's going on."
Tuck didn't speak for a moment. Instead, he slipped into the chair nearest him, letting his pool stick rest against the table as he did. His mind still raced, but it never seemed to be with new thoughts. Instead, it was the same over and over again, nearing the point it'd drive him insane. He knew he was overthinking everything, but for some reason couldn't move past any of it. He lingered without resolution in sight.
"I don't know." He finally said in a defeated tone. Tuck gradually looked up, his eyes tinted with a level of sadness Foster had seen before. "It's not supposed to be this hard."
Foster took a seat beside him. He didn't have to bother asking what Tuck was referring to. There was only ever one thing his brother wanted above all else: a Norman Rockwell family.
Tuck was at his happiest when he was part of a couple. FDR knew he had a fear of abandonment, of being alone. It was always there, in the back of his mind, and only visible to those who knew the Englishman best. That sort of thing was a problem with kids torn from an already broken home, they needed to belong. Nana and the rest of FDR's family did their best to make him feel welcomed, and for the most part succeeded, but Foster knew the truth. Sometimes, when Tuck probably thought no one was looking or paying attention, that deep yearning for a family of his own would rise.
He'd fall in love easily and deeply. When they were younger it was a problem. Tuck was an attractive man, with an accent women threw themselves at, so he had his pick. Trouble was with who he picked. Some of them were okay, but more were horrible. They were either rude to the family, rude to him, or had an attitude that clashed completely with Tuck's.
When "Angela" came along, FDR had some hoped that Tuck finally found that someone he needed. They clicked on an important level, that level that showed the world they were actually friends as well as a couple, but it never happened. Then, for a while, Katie was that woman. But it ended, too. Then there was Lauren and the disaster that turned out to be.
Tuck was forever searching for that Happily Ever After, so Foster was well aware that the recent end of his second attempt with Katie was what weighed him down.
"You know what I'll say." FDR said as he took a long sip of his beer.
"Do I?"
Foster brandished a wide smile, bordering on arrogant. "Get back on the horse, man."
Whether he wanted to or not, Tuck let a small scoff of a laugh leave his lips. It made him feel better, a little bit, and that was Foster's point. He just wanted his brother to chuckle.
The atmosphere lightened a bit, but Foster knew it wouldn't completely. It was a heavy subject, and one important to the young man, so it wouldn't completely dissipate no matter how many jokes they threw at one another.
Foster wanted to broach the obvious subject, but he wouldn't. He'd been repeating it over and over through the years, so what would once more accomplish? He'd have thought that beating Tuck over the head with the obvious connection between him and Mac would make him act, but no such luck.
At some point, however, he knew he'd have to spell it out for the idiot.
The wedding was set to happen not long after the initial engagement. Neither Foster nor Lauren wanted to wait for the standard year or more, even though they'd only been together for about that long. They wanted to start their forever-lives. It was sweet, in a way. No one ever thought Foster would want to get married in the first place, let alone be so excited to do so as quickly as possible. It was adorable.
Preparations for such an event were surprisingly time consuming. Foster was grateful the groom's part wasn't as in depth as the bride's, but he was still a part of it. He'd initially thought that having the ceremony and reception on Nan's picturesque property would save both time and money, and while it did, it didn't seem to remove any steps.
Again grateful, Foster only had to offer his sparse opinion on things Lauren brought to him, and deal with tux fittings. He didn't even have to wrangle a lot of groomsmen. In fact, there was only Tuck who would stand on his side, and Trish on Lauren's, with thirty-five guests. It was a very small affair.
FDR and Tuck were in the middle of getting their tuxes fitted for the second and final time. FDR was stood on the small platform surrounded by four mirrors so he could have every possible view, and he enjoyed them all. He hadn't removed the smile from his lips as he turned one way and then the other repeatedly.
His tuxedo was the very basic of models. It was a Calvin Klein, navy blue ensemble cut perfectly to his frame. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
"Not bad." He crooned at his own reflection. "Not bad at all."
"Sure you shouldn't be marrying yourself, mate?" Tuck teased. He was standing a few feet away with the tailor tending to him. The jacket needed a touch more work, the sleeves being too long for him.
"I am tempted." He chuckled.
With a final approving glance, he spun to look at his best man. Foster nodded nonchalantly.
"So, who are you bringing?" he asked, stepping down from the platform with a flourished step.
Tuck shot him an annoyed glance just briefly before replying, "No one."
"Why not?" Foster asked before he could stop himself. He'd forgotten, if even just a moment, that Tuck was no longer taking Katie. "How about Mac?" he offered quickly, trying to overshadow his previous question.
"What about her?" he asked. There is was again, that edge. Foster had to fight the urge to roll his eyes when he heard it.
"Ask her." He said a bit sarcastically.
He could see Tuck weighing the pros and cons of it, which he thought was stupid. They were both going to be attending the wedding in the first place, both close friends, and they both got along well with one another. Since they were single, why not go together?
But Tuck continued to hesitate and for some reason, this time, FDR had had enough.
"Okay, listen here, dumbass," he said briskly. Tuck flinched and his eyes went wide. "Enough, okay? Enough. You love Mac, she loves you. Take her to the damn wedding."
Tuck continued to stare at him, blinking in silence. Foster knew he'd thrown a lot at him all at once, and it was probably taking a second to absorb, but when it did, he scowled.
Without a word, Tuck returned to his final fitting. Foster rolled his eyes.
Throughout the rest of the day, Tuck found himself dwelling a little more on his brother's crass outburst than he had Katie's. Foster knew him better, and even though he thought FDR was full of shit, he was the second person to say something, and it was enough to force him to pause.
Asking her to the wedding made sense, and it'd give him enough of a reason to spend time with her, but he doubted the rest. Still, hearing it twice from two separate people did make him think.
He knew he cared about her. That much was obvious. He cared about her greatly, but love was something else entirely, at least in the way the others meant. They meant deeply and resoundingly, like someone to spend the rest of his life with. On some level, he was. He had no plans of cutting her out of his life at any point in time, so she'd always be there, but again, they meant on a different level.
Tuck wasn't as sure as everyone else seemed to be about it. There were certain things he couldn't deny, however, he wasn't as steadfast as they were.
Still, perhaps he should invite her to be his date. The wedding was in two weeks, which would give him enough time to ask her, and for them to make any preparations they'd have to make. He'd enjoy going with her, too, especially since Katie and Joe would be there. It wasn't that he wanted to show off in front of his ex, but more that he didn't want to be alone when he was fairly certain she was bringing someone. It was a pride issue, and who better to ask than someone he actually liked spending time with.
Finding his resolve, Tuck decided he'd stop by her apartment on his way home. It would be a little late, but worth the trip. Besides, he hadn't seen her in a while, and wanted to.
Mac was jogging through her apartment to finish getting ready. She was late and her hairdryer broke halfway through using it, leaving her hair in damp tendrils. Thankfully, it wasn't too bad, but she'd lost more time than she would have liked trying to get the blow-dryer to work again. As a result, she was running late.
She made her way quickly across the floor plan of her place, from the kitchen and back to her bathroom upstairs. She'd forgotten her concealer, the new tub she'd purchased a couple of days ago. She'd left it on her kitchen island with every intention of taking it to her bathroom, but she'd never remembered.
As Mac returned to the bathroom with her concealer, she took her seat on the vanity. Pulling down the neckline of her shirt, she began to dab the makeup into place. Her shirt wasn't overly revealing, but when wearing something that was low-cut in any regard, she'd put on makeup. There was always the off-chance that the shirt would shift, or she'd lean forward enough to reveal what was hidden. Her scars stood out in her mind, like a beacon in pitch black, so she covered them.
As she patted the final bits of concealer into place, blending it out so it'd remain as close to her skin tone as she could, there was a knock at her door. She felt a jolt of excitement and worry because she wasn't entirely finished getting ready. When another trio of knocks sounded, she knew she had to hurry up and answer it.
She made her way out of the bathroom and quickly to the front door. Just before opening it, she fluffed her hair and plastered a smile on her face. When she opened the door, however, the smile faltered. Tuck was standing on the other side in the hall, and while she was happy to see him, she was surprised by it.
"Tucker, hey." She said, her greeting reflecting her shock. "What're ya doin' here?"
"Was hoping to speak with you." He said. "Mind if I come in?"
"No, right, yeah." She said strangely before stepping aside and letting him into the apartment. Mac's heart began to race, but not for the usual reasons when Tuck was around.
He walked a few feet into her apartment, but didn't make it past her kitchen before turning around to face her.
"You're going to the wedding, yeah?"
"Well, yeah, of course." She nodded.
He slid his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight oddly. Mac noticed. He seemed unsure for some reason.
"Would you like to go with me?"
Her jaw went lax and her eyes a bit wide at his question. She was a little surprised by it, but was so disappointed, too. Mac tried to speak, but words weren't exactly forthcoming. Her hesitation seemed to be enough to make Tuck rethink his proposal.
"Unless you don't want to." He said quickly.
"No," she said just as fast. "No, I'd've loved to, but I," her statement dwindled a bit. "I've a date, Tuck."
She noticed him flinch ever-so-slightly, and his face go blank. She felt almost immediate guilt, but it wasn't true. Mac would have loved to attend the wedding with him, she simply couldn't. In all honesty, it never donned on her that he might ask, so she made other arrangements.
"Oh," he finally said. "Well then, I suppose I should go."
Mac opened her mouth to speak again, to say something that might remove some of the strange tension and awkwardness that filled the room, but she never had the chance. Instead, there was another knock at her door.
Mac's heart sank and her eyes drifted shut with a sigh. When she met his gaze again, Tuck seemed confused, as though he sensed what was about to happen. Having no choice, Mac turned and opened the door, revealing her guest.
It was a young man, inches taller than Tuck. He was lean in build, relatively attractive, but plain in the Englishman's eyes.
"Richard, hello." Mac said in her "Angela" voice. "Please, come in."
"You look great." He told her as he entered. Tuck did his best not to scowl, but he did regardless. "Uh, hi." He said when he saw Tuck.
"Richard, this is my friend Tuck. Tuck, Richard."
She noticed the uncomfortable handshake between the two.
"Well, um…" Mac muttered.
"Right," Tuck gave a sharp nod. "Nice to meet you." He said to Richard without sounding a bit grateful. "I'll talk to you later."
With a soft nod, Tuck skirted past the two and out the door. Mac felt terrible the moment he was gone. If she'd thought on any level that he'd ask her to go with him to the wedding, she wouldn't have asked Richard.
For the last three weeks, she and Richard had been dating. It was something she thought normal, something that would help acclimate her into a civilian life. When getting coffee one morning at a shop, he asked to join her, so she let him. They hit it off relatively well and began dating shortly after. It made sense to ask him if he'd join her. She didn't want to go alone, after all.
Still, she had made a previous arrangement with Richard, so she couldn't cancel on him. Yet, now she was regretting the fact.