Chapter 8


Today was it. This was the big day. The Evans clan would be gaining its newest members as Julie Michaels, with her boys Alex and Richard Michaels, married Mark Evans. Henry had been listening to his overexcited grandparents go on about it for weeks and he was about ready to put them both under if that was what it took for them to shut up.

Granted, Henry knew he couldn't do that. He no longer needed his parents for food or shelter the way he had as a child, but they were still useful, enabling him to navigate further and further into the world on his terms, but with that ever-so-necessary veil of normality. He looked and acted the way people expected him to, and Wallace and Susan, placed conveniently beside him as the loving and proud parents of a handsome, successful son, added to the image Henry wanted and needed to have.

But this morning, Henry had woken Mark up early. They had spent the night at Fleetwood Hall, and felt stronger, more alert, more alive just from resting inside its walls. Mark complained about how his balls hurt and Henry listened, but they still got ready and drove over to Julie's place. There, Henry woke up the boys and then had to listen to them whine while Mark went in to see Julie. Richard complained and Alex bitched about the unexpected early wakeup, but Henry directed them to the bathroom and handed them their hand-tailored suits, his message clear.

After a full hour of waiting while Mark got laid and the boys washed up and dressed, Henry at last had everyone ready and headed for the Beast, his beloved Hummer H1 wagon. He drove like he owned the road, as usual, and people got out of the way, as usual. Being known and respected around Portland didn't hurt, either, but it made no difference to Henry if you moved aside out of respect or out of fear. Either one worked.

It was a cool morning, especially so close to the sea, and Henry smiled to himself as he parked the Beast in his parents' driveway. It was almost time for something Henry had wanted his son to do for a long time, and with Mark getting married today, the symbolism of the act would be quite appropriate.

"Dad, why'm I fucking awake?" Richard fussed, hopping down from the Beast.

"Because I want you to come over here and listen to me tell you a story," Henry told him.

"We coulda done that at home."

"Henry, is this seriously all you wanted us up for?" Mark asked, looking curious and a bit annoyed himself. Frustrated, at least, since he was not used to Henry not telling him every detail of what they were up to on any given day.

"Guys, come with me and it'll all make sense," Henry said grandly.

"Fuck," Richard said, kicking at one of the Beast's enormous tires.

"Rich, did we not already have a talk with you and Alex about cursing?"

"Mom said we can't," Richard said, "and you said we can't 'cause Julie's being a bitch."

"You know we have to put on a show for her," Henry told his son. "You two can't go saying things people don't expect. You don't want to alert people."

"I just told her she and Dad fuck," Alex fussed. "They fuck and it's noisy."

"Alex, when you get older, you'll want to do that too, trust me," Mark told his son.

"Whatever," Alex griped. "Can we go now?"

"Come with me," Henry said again. He led his brother and the two boys out toward the cliffs, the place where Susan had always gone to think about Richard. The old Richard, the one Henry had gotten rid of a long time ago. The brief suspicion that the murder had cast on Henry was long vanished, much like Richard himself. And with Henry witnessing his beloved true brother's marriage today- insincere as it was- there was no better time to pay a little tribute to the old Richard.

When they reached the cliffs, Mark noticed immediately the significance of the place. "This is where Susan always used to go," he remarked, looking pointedly at Henry."

"Yep, sure is," Henry agreed. "Rich, Alex, there's something important I want you guys to do one day."

"What?" Alex asked, still glowering at his uncle.

"I want you to get Susan out here. She was always going out here to sulk about that stupid twerp, so I want you to get her out here and shove her off."

"What, now?" Richard demanded.

"No, not now. She's still useful to us right now. But when you and Alex are strong enough, after you succeed us- you come here and take care of her."

"Not a bad spot," Mark considered. "I'm so fucking thankful she doesn't sit around and mope as much as she used to."

"Yeah. Lemme tell you. She used to be out here all the fuckin' time. The day I first showed you that she was out here? That was probably the third time that month, at least."

"So we kill you idiots, then kill her." Alex said it flatly, without any particular interest or emotion. "What about Wallace?"

"That's up to you guys," Henry shrugged. "I'd say let him just… go away on his own. He'll be old enough by then that you won't really need to wait. He can't survive that long without Susan. The fool's 'in love' and all that crap."

"You and Mark are in love," Alex pointed out.

"No! Not like that!" Henry scoffed, as Mark made similar noises of disbelief. "No, we love each other, but we're not in love. It's different."

"It's the same to me," Richard said, looking up at his father.

"What do you mean, Rich?" Henry asked his son.

"You said Wallace can't survive for long without his wife after we get rid of her, because he's in love with her. If we killed Mark first and kept you alive, you'd hurt bad, I bet. You'd wanna die so bad. We can use that against you any way we want."

"I'll fucking kick you off this cliff if you keep ta-"

"No, you won't," Alex predicted. "You need us, remember? Especially today. And you love us. Even if you could have sons again, it'd be years until they grew up. You'd have to wait around and get old."

"Dad, the fact is, you said love's a weakness for Wallace, but, it's your weakness too." Richard shrugged. "Your parent's are gonna die from it. You'll die from it. Mark's gonna die from it. Alex and me, we're gonna live. Because love's not real. We're stronger and you can't change that."

"You better come out here and do what I said after you've taken over, Rich."

Richard smiled, but there was no love in those cold, flinty eyes, no warmth. They were the eyes of a shark.

"Dad, once Alex and I get rid of you, what did you think we were gonna do with your parents? We were gonna get rid of them anyway."

"That's what I wanted, then. Good." Henry was determined to get the last word in; having his son and heir mouth off to him so fearlessly, and having Alex do the same, took a lot of getting used to.

"Dad, your days are numbered," Richard said, smiling still. "We'll clean up everything after you're gone. Grandma, Grandpa, Julie, Marcus, Brandon. Who's gonna stop us?"

"You leave Marcus and Brandon alone," Mark insisted. "They're our heirs just like you."

"They get to live if they're strong enough to beat us," Alex replied. "Honestly, Dad, after Richard and I are strong enough to kill you two? I doubt it. Those twerps won't stand a chance."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Jacob Bryer, Jake to all his friends, was waiting nervously in the Evans living room as the sun rose outside. He'd slept over here last night and Connie was out with her parents as they made some final arrangements on the big day, as Connie's big brother Mark got married, with Henry as his best man, of course. Jake had guessed they'd be over here early in the morning, and as he saw them coming toward the house (from further out in the woods, for some reason), Jake knew he had guessed right.

The two men were legends across New England, and their names were known far beyond. Spectacular athletes, popular like few could even dream of, handsome enough to work part-time as models, wealthy enough that they could probably just not work if they wanted to. Instead, they had both become Marines, and were coming into the house in the famous full dress uniform, looking like walking recruiting posters, their immaculately-dressed, near-identical sons beside them.

Jake got up and held out his hand as Henry and Mark walked in; Connie had said they were big on respect, so, he'd planned to act the same as he did when meeting her parents. Things had gone well then, so hopefully it would work now.

"Hey," he said, putting on a warm smile, "I'm Ja-"

"Sit down," Henry ordered, his voice hard and unfriendly.

"Shut up." That was Mark.

"Oh. Okay." Jake sat back down on the couch.

"Alex, Richard," Henry said, "Go back outside. Knock a bird's nest down or something, I don't care. The men of the house need to have a talk with… this guy."

"Okay, Dad," Richard replied. The two small boys stared at Jake for a few moments before turning to leave, as if committing his face to memory. Their eyes were hard, cold. Jake shivered, though it was a temperate 70 degrees in here and warm and sunny outside. It was probably just his nerves, but those two kids didn't seem right somehow. Too alert, too attentive. Jake didn't like them, and was relieved when they obeyed their father/uncle and headed back outside, picking up a football from under the back porch and tossing it around.

Mark and Henry approached, arms crossed, and it seemed at first like they were going to sit down with him, but they just stood there instead, towering above to the point where Jake had to crane his neck uncomfortably to look up at them.

"You don't look so tough," Mark observed, looking at Jake's bare arms. They were strong enough, well-defined, or so he thought, but also light and lean. His whole build was that way. Fit, but light. These two were wrestlers and football players. Compared to them, Jake was pitifully weak. He found himself wishing he'd cared more about lifting weights instead of devoting all his time to becoming a better distance runner.

The Evans brothers kept their silence for over a minute, staring down at Jake, sizing him up and finding him unimpressive. Jake did his best not to get too nervous about it, but finally he had to speak up.

"Is everyth-"

"I said shut up," Henry broke in.

"Yeah, but-"

"So shut up!" Mark barked out, raising his voice.

Jake fell silent. He waited, wondering what on earth was going on now.

"So you're dating Connie," Mark said.

Jake nodded. "Yes."

"For six whole months, huh?"

"Yes."

"Have you fucked my sister?" Henry demanded.

"W-wh-"

"Have… you… fucked… my… sister?"

"You better answer, and don't lie," Mark warned. "Never, ever lie to us."

Jake felt his cheeks heating up. "Yes," he managed to say.

"What?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. I have."

"She your first?"

"No."

"Oh, so, Connie's just some fun for now, huh? Planning on using her till you get bored?"

"No, no!" Jake pleaded. "I'd never do that."

"Did you make her? You pressure her?"

"No. I'd- I wouldn't. I swear."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"What- what does that have to- to do with-"

"Answer the question," Mark said. "I wanna know if you liked fucking Connie. You better say it straight, man."

"I did."

"Of course you did," Henry shot back. "You got hard looking at her, wanted a piece of that, so you charmed her into it, didn't you? You're nothing but another horny teenage guy."

"No, no, it's not-"

"Oh, so you're saying Connie isn't beautiful?" Mark demanded. "She's an Evans. You trying to say something about us? Got a problem with this family?"

"Connie's beautiful," Jake said, shaking all over now. "I'm- I didn't mean to offend anybody."

"When you fuck Connie, is it her idea or yours?" Henry asked, looming over him. "I better not find out you're pressuring my sister. Or using her. It better be what she wants."

Jake had never been so uncomfortable in a situation. He squirmed, trying to think of a good way to explain it. His romance with Connie Evans had been a surprise to say the least, given how much the Evans name assured her of instant celebrity status at Chamberlain High even five years after Henry and Mark graduated. She had turned down so many football players, hockey players, only going out here and there with a few from the basketball and soccer team. Jake had tried his luck one Friday afternoon, just asked her before leaving the commons area for cross country practice, and to his surprise and everyone else's, she said yes.

"Well?" Mark almost yelled. "You better talk, man! I'm not liking what I'm hearing so far."

"Look- I-I wouldn't do a single thing if Connie didn't want me to," Jake confessed. "I love Connie too much. We- w-w-we do- stuff, I mean, we-"

"Say you fuck her. Just say it."

"Please. I-"

"Say it already."

"I don't f-f-fuck her unless it's what she wants," Jake said quickly. "She lets me know when she wants to do something, when we're alone. Sometimes we mess around. I don't do anything without her permission. I'm really careful about that. I don't even like those- the guys that think they need to never take no for an answer."

"Do you wear a condom when you're with her?" Henry asked.

"Yes," Jake nodded. "Always."

"Why are you really seeing Connie?" Mark was inches away from him, Marine lieutenant's gold bars gleaming, his massive shoulders practically blocking out the ceiling. Jake's neck hurt from craning it up so much to try and look these two men in the eye. He was afraid, but mostly physically uncomfortable. He couldn't complain, didn't dare complain.

"I think she's the most wonderful girl in the world," Jake answered honestly. "I really do love her."

"Are you fucking anyone else behind her back?"

"No." Jake shook his head emphatically. The very idea was ridiculous to him. "I'd never do that to her."

"Have you ever fucked anybody else?"

"No." Jake's cheeks heated up. "Connie was my first."

Henry was even closer than Mark now. They were so close it would've been called kissing distance if Jake were standing up.

"Do you think about Connie when your skinny ass is out at one of your fuckin' cross country meets?" Henry asked.

"Always." Jake thought of her all the time. He was blown away to be going steady with Connie Evans herself, even after half a year together, and all the intimacy they knew together was equally intense to him. Kissing, dancing, lying in bed together, weekends on the beach, anything. Jake never wanted to be with anyone else.

"Keep talking."

"I think about her every day. When I'm with her that's all I think about. When we're apart I wear a little locket she gave me. Some of the guys made fun of me about in in gym class and stuff, but I never take it off even in the shower room and on runs. I'd never cheat on her because there's nobody else for me. Seriously. I don't know if we'll be together a long time, but I'd like us to be."

Jake was shaking, sweating, worried as hell that this would end in a savage beating somehow. He'd been nothing but respectful to Connie and her family from the beginning, and while he was physically intimate with his girlfriend, it had been her idea and still was. He never initiated anything. He was too concerned about being too forward or making her feel pushed.

Henry blinked and a second later, he was smiling. It was warm and pleasant, though it didn't quite seem to touch those crisp blue eyes, which like his son's, were oddly cold and absolutely vigilant. But Henry reached down and effortlessly hauled a weak-kneed Jake to his feet, shook his hand, and clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over.

"Well, you're all right," Henry was saying. Jake practically wept from relief. He shook Henry's hand back, shook hands with Mark.

"Yeah, he's not so bad," Mark agreed. They still loomed over Jake, absolutely towered over him, but Jake felt so much better, like he'd passed some great test. Just then the front door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Evans came in with Connie, who was radiant and stunning in the dress she'd selected. Jake, still wearing the shorts and tank-top he preferred for runs, suddenly realized how under-dressed he was.

Mark and Henry all but disappeared, stunning Jake, who didn't imagine anyone with such an imposing presence could just up and leave like that. But they had gone somewhere else in the expansive house, greeting their parents, talking cheerfully with them about the guests who would soon start arriving.

Then Jake was alone with Connie, his sweaty forehead gently pressed against hers, and his world calmed; the storm had passed, and whatever suspicions Henry and Mark had seemed to have been satisfied. Maybe they had just been concerned for her. Over-protective, extremely so, but… sincere about it all the same.

"Hey," Connie said. "You're not scared about today, are you?"

"Who says I'm scared?" Jake asked, laughing a little at himself. Of course he was.

"You look like you saw a ghost."

"Your brothers." Jake managed to say.

"What about them?" Connie asked curiously. She'd never been especially close to them, Jake knew, but she'd said they'd done some truly kind, generous things for her over the years, given her thoughtful gifts like a ruby-red designer sweater she still cherished.

Jake searched for a moment about what to tell her, if to tell her. "I think they really care about you."

"Why? Were they trying to make a big deal about how tough they are?" she scoffed, but Jake shook his head.

"No, I mean- I just met them, and, all they wanted was to know how I treat you. If I'm good to you." He shivered again. "I told them the truth. They seemed happy after that." It had been uncomfortable, even frightening, but maybe their motives had been the right ones. Just looking after their sister.

"Really?" Connie asked.

"Yeah." He paused. "They're pretty scary sometimes. But I think they care. With what you told me, I think they just… maybe they don't know how to show it to you."

"Really," Connie repeated, in a different tone this time. She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen, clearly surprised but thoughtful at the same time. Jake sighed in relief again, grateful he hadn't done anything wrong. He couldn't have hidden it from those two. They probably weren't so bad, but they sure didn't hold back about protecting their sister.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

In the kitchen, Susan did her best to busy herself and pretend that today was just another day, but thoughts of past days, harder days, and the many happier ones that had thankfully followed, and as she kept throwing glances at Mark in his magnificent Marine dress uniform, accompanied as he always was by his beloved Henry, she grew too emotional to continue.

Suddenly Wallace was there, and Mark, and Henry. They embraced her, each of them, and Susan thanked God once more for being merciful, for allowing the hardships of the early 1990's to fade away into the past. She managed to calm herself, and after a few minutes Henry and Mark headed back outside to spend some free time with the boys. Guests would begin arriving soon, and in a few more hours, the wedding itself would begin.

"It's- it's just so hard to believe," Susan marveled, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief again. She was gazing out the kitchen window, watching Mark and Henry expertly toss a football back and forth with Alex and Richard. That second name still invoked strong emotions in Susan; the boy was the spitting image of his father, and of his long-lost uncle. Henry had named him in Rich's honor, and referred to his son by that same nickname.

"It's real," Wallace said, gently embracing his wife again. "The boys made it. They're fine."

"I wish Richard- I wish he could've been here to see it," Susan said quietly.

"He's not really gone," Wallace remarked, nodding toward the golden-blond-haired 4-year-old who was determinedly following his father around, jumping and grabbing for a football that was practically his size.

"I know. It means so much that… that that's the name Henry picked."

"He cares, Susan. He cares a lot. So does Mark."

"Do you think there was- do you think we did anything that made the boys stop going to Mass?"

Wallace considered that as he headed back over to the counter, checking again the sheets of paper detailing catering plans for the day, which Susan had insisted on contributing dessert items to. Despite the number of people that would be filling the Evans property soon, she was not about to just sit by and let someone else provide all the food.

Her finest dessert specialties would all be on display today, one of many silent but unmistakable testimonies that Susan had done her job and then some, that she and Wallace had succeeded as parents, overcome all that had gone wrong years back. Even with no one questioning her or Wallace- indeed, no one had even back then- Susan was still defensive about it in her own mind, driven to prove that what happened to Richard had not been some reflection on the parenting skills of the owners of this house.

"I think it's just how they turned out," Wallace said finally. "People aren't as religious as they used to be. It's not like the Church is going anywhere, but I think times have changed, and Henry and Mark just don't believe the same way we believe."

"They wouldn't even have a priest here for the wedding," Susan recalled fretfully. "I could tell they weren't going to take 'no' for an answer on that."

"They haven't taken 'no' for an answer in a very long time," Wallace replied. "I think we played some role there. Always making sure they had whatever they wanted."

"I always hoped their weddings would be at Sacred Heart," Susan said, thinking of the fine old church on Mellen Street.

"They just ended up with other plans, Susan," Wallace shrugged. "We raised two fine boys and one girl. They're not everything we envisioned, but honestly, I wouldn't change anything if I could. They're all doing well, they're happy, they know we love them and they love us back. Isn't that what's most important?"

Mark and Henry had hoisted their respective firstborn sons up on their massive, powerful shoulders, effortlessly carrying them around as they continued the backyard football game between themselves. Their boys held on, laughing delightedly.

Susan couldn't help but smile. "You're right, Wallace. I wouldn't change anything, either. They're perfect as they are."

"Who's perfect, now?" Jake Bryer called out, coming into the kitchen with a smart, hand-tailored suit on, a fine silk bowtie secured below his neck. He flashed Susan and Wallace a charming smile, and Connie stifled a laugh behind him, embarrassed but pleased at her boyfriend's behavior.

"Jacob, I assume you've been a perfect gentleman today," Susan greeted him.

"As usual," Wallace added.

"Yes, yessir, yes- ma'am," Jake agreed hastily, nodding like a bobblehead. "Um- I met Henry and Mark. And they like me. I think."

"The boys can be intimidating when they meet strangers sometimes," Susan sighed. "Especially people new to the family. I don't think they've gotten used to the idea that Connie's grown up."

"Mom," Connie protested, "I don't know why they have to be so secretive about it. It's like they're still twelve."

"Boys will be boys," Wallace remarked neutrally.

"Dad, they didn't need to scare Jake if they care so much."

"Hey, I wasn't sc-"

"They can bench-press seven hundred pounds, Jake; of course you were scared. They're big, dumb, overprotective-"

"They just care about you," Susan admonished her daughter. "Think about what all their friends have been like over the years, always athletic boys. They've gotten used to playing a certain role that their friends and coaches always expected."

"Well, they don't need to go being so big and dumb."

"Connie-"

"I said what I said, Mom," Connie interrupted, and stuck out her tongue.

Susan tried to be stern but gave it up after a moment, laughing at how silly her daughter looked in the moment. Connie tried to stay indignant but laughed, too after a moment.

"Jacob, if you'd like to help us get ready for the guests, you're more than welcome," Susan continued.

"Uh, actually, there's this Rolls-Royce outside, important-looking guy was out there when we checked the mailbox," Jake said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Oh, that must be Jason Morgan," Wallace said after a moment. "Did he have a friend with him? Super oily hair? Possible mob connections?"

"Wallace," Susan chided him.

"Well, we can go out there and see. Mr. Morgan was arguing with his friend about not wanting to park on the street when me and Connie left."

"Connie and I, Jake," Connie corrected him.

"I just can't catch a break today," Jake sighed dramatically.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Julie was a little surprised to wake up and find that Mark and Henry had left with the boys already, but she had hardly been up for a half hour before a polite young man named Peter Lancaster showed up at the front door with a black-and-silver Rolls-Royce. The car was his grandfather's, he explained, and it was an honor to be Mark's personal driver today.

Of course Mark had made sure a friend of his could make such a car available. Julie was continually impressed, but rarely surprised, by such gestures; Mark always thought of everything. Before going back inside to get dressed, Julie had asked about her parents, who were flying in from St. Augustine for the occasion, but Peter said "I'll be going to get them as soon as I've driven you to the Evans place." He smiled, then added, "Don't worry. Mark's taken care of everything."

The growing legion of boys seeking to emulate Julie's love (and his brother Henry) naturally included Peter, who wore his hair in perfect emulation of the way Henry had kept it before joining the Marines. After meticulously chauffeuring Julie to the Evans family's home, Peter spent a few minutes shaking hands and greeting a few other handsome, well-groomed young men, each of whom seemed to have a particular role to play in ensuring the day went smoothly. A young man named Carter Stevens, whom Julie recognized as one of Mark and Henry's successors as "King of Chamberlain High," did a fair bit of bossing the others around, which he and his red-haired partner-in-crime, Michael Cadiz, took obvious pride in.

Julie was not allowed to so much as go and get a glass of water; her slightest glance or movement was noticed, and one of the well-dressed, handsome young men was there, asking her if she needed something or, in a few instances, already having anticipated it. Julie had no doubt they would have carried her to the bathroom in her chair if she asked. It was amazing to see the kind of diligence Mark and Henry inspired, how eager these young men were to serve at Mark's discretion. Everything, they said, was on his instructions.

Mom and Dad had met Mark a few times before; last Christmas was the first, when Julie had been two months along with her second child. Mark had doted on her like he always did, was effortlessly charming and affectionate, and as Julie had expected, he won her parents over completely. They had been surprised that their only child had decided to conceive twice before getting married, but thankfully hadn't asked too much about how young Mark was, and therefore the age he had to have been when he'd fathered Alex. They probably knew- Julie's parents were both veteran teachers themselves, smart as a whip- but they hadn't pressed the issue. They probably liked Mark enough that they just let it go. They certainly had done nothing but sing his praises and ask about when they'd get to see him next since their first meeting, and they were eager to finally meet Henry today.

Mark had set the wedding up as a private, exclusive affair; everything was being done according to his particular wishes, and nearly everyone with any task to perform was a Chamberlain High graduate or the close friend or relative of one. There wasn't even a priest or reverend, which Mark had flatly refused when Julie had brought it up in passing. Instead, a disgruntled-looking Jason Morgan was talking with his best friend, Anthony Summers. Apparently, Mark had asked for him personally, and from the noises Jason was making, Tony had talked him into it.

"He's not bad," a female voice said from behind Julie, and she looked up to see Gwen Larsson nodding towards Jason. "His friend's a solid 9, though, I'd have to say it's a tie between them."

"They're Mark's classmates," Julie said, a little uncomfortable at the thought; Jason and Anthony were quite handsome, and had been second only to Henry and Mark among the boys of the Class of 1999 for promiscuity and popularity. Would she have wound up crossing professional lines with one of them, had Mark somehow gone to a different school? She hadn't been able to resist the temptation with Mark as well as she'd imagined. The result was presently chattering to his grandparents about something, gesturing with a football. His inseparable friend and partner, Richard, sidled up to them and snatched the football, startling Wallace and Susan as he darted between them with it.

"Now, those two, they'll be just as good-looking as their dads," Gwen predicted, nodding now toward Alex and Richard. She patted her smooth belly. "I should know."

"Uh- would you like to have a seat?" Julie asked. She didn't know Gwen too well, although the model's brash manner and ego was exciting and overwhelming at the same time. Still, she didn't want Gwen to have to stand indefinitely, especially since she was pregnant.

"I'd love to," Gwen said cheerfully. "Let's get to know each other, why don't we? Talk about the guys we've fucked."

"Sure," Julie responded, not sure what else to say to that.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Henry came over just as Gwen was taking her seat beside Julie. "Hey, beautiful," he told her, taking her left hand and kissing it. While bowing, he looked up at her and grinned. "Nice tits."

"Oh, that's so sweet," Gwen responded.

"Yeah. It is." Henry snickered. "Julie. I wanted to just say again, congratulations."

"Thanks, Henry. That means a lot."

"I've never seen Mark so happy." Henry smiled. "Being a dad is the best thing that ever happened to him." Then he moved off, heading for the outdoor bar someone had set up, where Mark was sitting surrounded by the legion of friends and adoring followers who had responded to his invitations. All those handsome young men in their hand-tailored suits, but Gwen only had eyes for one of them.

Admittedly, Mark was just as good. He was stunning. But his kid wasn't growing in Gwen's belly. She would've gladly fucked Henry one weekend and then Mark another, but Henry's favorite thing had other plans. It turned out, anyway, that the brothers didn't like 'sharing' women. If one of them dated or slept with somebody, she would be avoided by the other. It was a quirk, an odd little rule that they both insisted on following. Henry had explained it like it made perfect sense, though, and Gwen just left it alone.

"So what do you tell your friends about Mark?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, just that we met after he graduated," Julie laughed.

"Was it fun dating him while he was in your class?"

"It was stressful," Julie responded, shaking her head. "I still don't know how Mark did it."

"But was it fun?"

"Yes." Julie paused, then said, "Extremely."

"Did he tell any of his friends?" Gwen asked curiously.

"Only Henry. He said he couldn't keep his eyes off me from the first day of class. I didn't believe him for a while, but… he didn't give up. He believed in us. Things turned out fine."

"Is Mark as competitive as Henry is?"

Julie laughed. "That's the only thing he knows how to do."

"Well, not the only thing," Gwen said, giving Julie a meaningful look. "We both know what else they can do."

"It's unbelievable," Julie marveled.

"I was doing a nude shoot at Premiere's studios, same day as Henry was," Gwen said. "Biggest cock I ever saw, just hanging off the hunkiest blond I ever saw. I saw how he was looking at me, so we went back to my place, and now I'm having his kid."

"Yeah, um…" Julie hesitated. "We didn't exactly plan Alex, either."

"Oh, how'd he happen?" Gwen asked. "Does Mark suck at pulling out, too?"

Julie blushed; Gwen's way of talking was different from hers. The brash, supremely confident athlete was going to take some getting used to. Still, Julie was an adult and she greatly enjoyed her life with Mark; sharing some of it with Gwen wouldn't be a bad idea since they were each marrying an Evans son.

"Well, Mark and I decided that it was a sign that we were meant to be together, always. He came home one night after I said we were going to have a baby, and he said this was another sign that all this was meant to be. Mark believes in destiny and so do I."

"But does he suck at pulling out, though?" Gwen asked, grinning at Julie. She was obviously just needling her, and Julie managed to laugh and shrug.

"He could do better."

"It's what we get for dating big hunks like them," Gwen shrugged. "They're the hottest and the best in bed, but, they're dumb sometimes." She paused. "You know people at your school will know about you and Mark, right? You two had Alex in 1999. Mark was a senior that year."

"Well, they probably can't do anything about it now," Julie shrugged, feeling her face heating up.

"I doubt it, and besides, Mark's well-connected. He'll make sure nothing happens. Nah. The most anyone will do is talk when you're not around."

"Laurie Hughes already figured it out," Julie admitted. "So I know you're right."

"Of course I'm right. When will you figure out you should just listen to me about everything? I'm always right, Mrs. Almost-Evans."

"You and Henry are a perfect match, you know that?"

Gwen grinned. "Sure we are. It's gonna be interesting telling the boys how they both happened because Henry's pull-out game sucks, but hey, nobody's perfect."

Julie laughed, and Gwen thought again of how much fun raising the next generation of Evans jock-boys would be with this woman as her sister-in-law. She wasn't so bad, once you got past the straight-laced exterior.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Jason looked up from the table he'd swiped to find that little blond twerp, Troy Lancaster, standing there again. He barely knew who this kid was, but the fucker had been trailing him ever since he got here, like it was his damn job.

Irritated at having his sulking interrupted, Jason finally snapped. "Look, who sent you to do this? Whaddyou fucking want? If I wanted another fuckin' screwdriver, I'd go get it myself!"

"I know you can do that, sir," the well-dressed 8th grader said with a courteous half-bow. "But I asked Mr. Evans if I could do anything for him after what he did for me, and he said I should make sure you had everything you needed, all day."

"Well, that's nice of him," Anthony quipped. "Which Evans was this, kid?"

"Mark Evans, sir."

Jason halted as he was about to wave the kid off. "Mark told you to be my fuckin' waiter?"

"Yes, sir. He said "'That guy's almost as cool as me. If Henry and I hadn't been around he would've been king of our high school, so you treat him with respect. Him and Tony both.'"

"Mark said that?" Jason asked, surprised despite himself.

"He did, sir."

"Wait, how do you know him again?"

"I was at his bachelor party and he helped me get laid, sir." Troy flashed a grin. "First time and I boned a college girl."

"Nice," Anthony laughed.

"Yeah, congrats on becoming a man," Jason said, begrudgingly impressed. "Well, how about you go get me another drink, Big Troy?"

He meant the label sarcastically (mostly), but Troy grinned all the same. "I told my brother I'd be better than him. He needed until 9th grade. I'm fuckin' huge, too. I oughta make that my nickname around school."

"You cocky motherfucker," Jason laughed. "You got balls at least. Go get me my fuckin' screwdriver, would you?"

"Yes, sir," Troy said, half-bowing and flashing another confident grin at him.

"Well, at least the twerps growing up these days haven't forgotten everything about respect," Jason remarked.

"I told you this wouldn't be so bad," Tony said matter-of-factly.

"I still fuckin' hate those two." Jason gave a shrug of his well-muscled shoulders, concealed under a two-thousand-dollar Brooks Brothers suit. "I still hate them."

"Look, that kid just told you Mark specifically told him to wait on you for the day. Henry specifically called to ask if we were coming to Mark's bachelor party." Tony sighed, self-consciously pausing to check his slick, oily hair. He was going for some kind of Fifties-style bullshit and made it work better than he had any business doing, but, that was Tony.

"What's your point, Tony?" Jason asked, a little more irritably than he'd meant to.

"My point is Mark and Henry took over as the coolest guys in our high school, but it's been years, man. They haven't just not forgotten about us, they're still showing us respect like we're in the inner circle, just like back in the day."

"Jesus, has it really been that long?" Jason wondered. "Are we already saying 'back in the day'?"

"I mean, we got out of Alabama last May. You're already done with year one of law school. It's been five years since we left high school."

"Yeah, I know, but- look, I hate those guys!" Jason insisted. "They're too good. At everything. And Henry was a loser-"

"A long time ago," Tony finished. "Mark helped him learn to socialize and everything worked out great for both of them. What's so bad about that?"

Jason grumbled something unintelligible and looked away.

"Jason. Come on. It's okay to say you were jealous."

"Look, I'm here, aren't I?" Jason grouched. Troy came back then, and Jason took the glass and downed part of it immediately, appreciating again the blend of orange juice and Polish vodka. Jason nodded, despite himself. The cocky little kid could mix a pretty good drink.

"I knew you'd like it, sir," Troy said, smiling again.

"You know what you're in for when you start at Chamberlain this fall?" Jason asked him. "Popping your cherry isn't gonna change what you're in for. You don't get to be special."

"I know, sir," Troy answered. "But I'm a tough motherfucker."

"Not until you've survived freshman year on the football team, you're not," Jason corrected him. "I was there the whole time while Henry and Mark built a fuckin' empire. We never lost a game after their freshman year. You believe that? Not once. The guys running the team now, they were picked by the guys Henry and Mark picked. They'll break you until you don't have any weakness left. So you better be ready for that."

"You sound proud, Jason," a well-known voice said from behind him. Troy's puffed-up arrogance vanished at once; he humbly bowed his head and stepped back slightly. Jason turned and looked up at Mark Evans in his Marine dress uniform, with Henry beside him, wearing his own. A mix of emotions rushed in at once; anger, jealousy, hatred, admiration. Mollified by Troy's meticulous ass-kissing, Jason managed a friendly greeting.

"What's up, guys?"

"Just looking to say hi to one of my best friends from the old bachelor days," Mark said with a grin. "C'mon, Jason, it's good to see you. Come on." He held out his arms. Stunned but unable to make himself refuse, Jason stood and embraced Mark, and was reminded again of just how physically powerful the Evans brothers were. Jason remained an avid weightlifter, and his body never failed to draw appreciative looks at the beach, but he'd never been on the same level as Mark or Henry. They were tailor-made for the Marines; or maybe it was better to say the Marines were tailor-made for them.

"Yeah," Jason managed gruffly, "good to see you, too."

Mark grinned and slapped Jason on the shoulder as he stepped back, almost making Jason stagger forward. "You magnificent bastard. You know how much I was hoping you and Tony'd make it to my bachelor party? It seriously wasn't the same without you."

"We got drunk," Jason blurted, feeling defensive, unable to help it.

"Yeah, that's what we figured," Henry added.

"Well, I'm here now," Jason went on. "And my Dad's coming to do the fuckin'- the vows and shit." He had passed on the request even as he stubbornly refused to attend the upcoming bachelor party. Jason realized now that he should have known he'd end up here. That Tony, or somebody else, would talk him into this.

"You know if you were already through Yale and the state bar exam, I'd be asking you to do it," Mark answered. "Seriously. You think I was gonna ask just some random lawyer or clerk to conduct the wedding ceremony?"

Taken further aback, Jason had to clear his throat to buy himself some time. "Yeah? Well. You know, school takes a while. I graduate May 2006."

"We can be there," Henry offered. "Us and our boys."

"Uh- yeah. Well, okay. I mean, if you want."

"Jason, I wanted you to meet somebody," Mark said, holding up an auburn-haired five-year-old in a fine suit. "This is Alex."

"Hey," Jason said, not sure how to greet the kid. Damn, he thought, little dude looks just like Mark. I mean just like him.

"Hello, Mr. Morgan," Alex said.

"Mr. Morgan!" Tony laughed from his seat. "I like that! You hear that, Jason? You're growing up, my man!"

"Yeah, well-" Jason got no further, because Alex lashed out with astounding speed and sucker-punched Jason in the gut. Strong and fit as he was, Jason was still caught off-guard, and he staggered, stunned by the blow, and put all his focus into getting his wind back.

"Alex, what'd I say about hitting people?" Mark said, sounding oddly distance.

"To not to."

"Well, what'd you do that for?" Mark fussed. "Nevermind. You don't just go doing that. Go find your brother."

"Okay." Alex plopped down and ran off into the crowd.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay," Jason said in a strained voice. "I'm good."

"And look! Your dad's here," Henry told him. "C'mon, Jason. We need to get this show on the road."

Jason wanted to find that little jerk that shared Mark's hair, face, and eyes and pound him, but he knew there was no way of managing that. Henry and Mark would turn on him- they'd never let one of their children be attacked. And the Bambi-eyed look they had anytime they interacted with or even talked about their sons- oh, yes, Jason had been watching them in the crowd behind the house today- made it obvious they really did love them, so they'd never seriously punish them for the misdeed anyway.

It figured that Mark's first kid would be a mean little brat, but Jason would've probably excused it if there had been a Jason Jr. right now who'd sucker-punched Mark or Henry. And they did seem to respect Jason more than he'd remembered. Unable to retaliate against the little kid, Jason reluctantly decided to let the incident go. He managed to straighten up, still surprised at the power the five-year-old's blow had behind it, and went to greet his father, the Chief Justice of the Maine Supreme Judicial Court.

As long as I don't have to hear about my fuckin' brother's latest brilliant and amazing accomplishments, Jason thought, I think I'll be okay.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Mark was obviously not religious, and Julie had decided it was better not to ask him too much about it, but he obviously still had great regard for ceremony. No expense had been spared in setting up the Evans property to host the wedding, and the volunteer staff of handsome, fit young proteges that Mark and his brother had assembled shepherded everyone over to their seats right on time, seamlessly and courteously.

Julie had wondered whether Mark would adhere to that custom about the bride and groom not seeing each other or speaking prior to the ceremony on the day of the wedding, and Mark had indeed been elsewhere all through the day. He was waiting at the head of the red-carpeted aisle now, however, having cleared the driveway for Peter Lancaster and his antique Rolls, waiting patiently at the curb.

Mom and Dad had been surprised that Mark refused any religious ceremony, had not even been willing to consider it, and was even more adamant that the wedding be held at his family's home and not at any church. They hadn't complained, especially not with how much they liked Mark, but it still took them by surprise. All Julie could tell them was Mark's Catholic upbringing had plainly not carried with him into adulthood.

It didn't mess up the day, or even come close to it, but it was just surprising to some. At the same time, though, maybe Mark just wanted the whole thing over with. Traditional Christian ceremonies, across the many different denominations, could take longer due to the inclusion of religious context and ceremonial procedure. Mark was passionate, hot-tempered, impatient. He had been unable to wait for marriage before trying for another child, and the result was growing in Julie right now, due to enter the world in July 2004, three months from now.

Yes, that made the most sense. Mark's passions simply didn't include interest in his family's religion, and more than that, he was an intensely romantic, passionate man who wanted to hurry up and marry the woman he loved. That was Mark, through and through.

Little Marcus stirred and kicked, and Julie put a hand to her swollen belly, something her beautiful, elegant white dress had been unable to conceal. She didn't care. Carrying her and Mark's second child made Julie feel happier than she could ever say. This was proof of their love, of the family they were building together. Gwen, pregnant with Henry's second child, also knew that joy. Anyone who disapproved of a happy young woman, well into a pregnancy on her wedding day, wasn't anybody Julie gave a damn about. With her brash and fiery mindset, her pride, Gwen would have understood. Maybe she and Julie would make good sisters-in-law, after all.

"You look beautiful, Mom," Alex said, looking up at her with his cool blue eyes, just like Mark's.

"Thank you, Alex," Julie said, smiling happily down at him.

"You really do, Julie," Dad said from beside her. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Ready when you are."

"You mean when Troy Lancaster is."

The smartly-dressed blond boy, youngest of all the various Evans proteges that had been moving around the house all day, bowed from where he stood at the back door of the house, hand on one of the brass doorhandles. A friend of his, another polite young man Julie didn't know, was at the other handle, ready to open the doors so Julie could begin her walk up the aisle.

Mark hadn't seemed entirely pleased with the father of the bride still walking his daughter up the aisle, but he hadn't much argued the point when Julie brought it up. It was the one thing Julie's parents had really wanted. Mom's glowing expression as the doors opened was one confirmation that the right decision had been made. Mark's as he looked down the aisle was the other.

The back yard was nearly full to capacity; rows upon rows of chairs had been set out for the many guests. The Evans clan was relatively small, but prominently placed in the front row. Close friends from high school, like Jason Morgan and Anthony Summers, were seated near Mark's family. His brother Henry naturally was best man, and little Richard, Henry's handsome firstborn, was the ringbearer.

There was no actual altar, nor a priest at the opposite end of the red-carpeted aisle. Just Chief Justice Morgan, Mark, and Henry, with a large white-painted wooden arch over them, bearing the Evans family crest in brass or gold.

Knowing Mark, it was almost definitely real gold.

The ceremony took only a few minutes, confirming Julie's thoughts that Mark just wanted to get it over with. His vows spoke not of any religious text or belief, but of destiny. "It was destiny that brought me here, and it is through that destiny that I will be beside you, always. I love you, and I will be your husband as long as I live."

Julie could barely repeat her own vows. Even though she and Mark had written and decided on them together, the emotion of finally being here, now, in this moment with Mark, was almost too much. Julie struggled, but she, too, spoke of destiny and devotion, of undying love, and no one tried to rush her or chastise her for how she felt. Marcus stirred as Chief Justice Morgan pronounced the young couple husband and wife, and Mark gently cupped her chin in one strong hand and kissed her.

It had been a long, long wait between the fall of 1998 and today. But all the waiting had paid off, and now, the moment was finally here.


A/N: 9-6-2021.

Managed to get another chapter done! I had started sketching this chapter out months and months ago- probably sometime last year, honestly. Once AM83220 and I determined that Mark was going to have to actually marry Julie in order for his and Henry's plans for their sons to be raised together to work, a chapter of Mark and Julie getting married was coming along.

I included Jason Morgan and Anthony Summers coming to the wedding because, while Jason tends to get his way and was wrapped up in feeling bitter towards Henry and Mark on the night of the bachelor party, he's known Anthony for a long time and listens to him, and I felt like Tony would consider it important to be there for Mark's wedding. And Jason would eventually let himself be talked into it, because of how much he listens to Tony, despite the tendency for Jason to be the more forceful/demanding of the two.

Obviously the Cadiz brothers and Carter Stevens were present, among many others, but I couldn't think of a specific use for them appearing here. They'll remain loyal followers of Henry and Mark always, unless something happens to make them a liability to be publicly associated with.

Mark and Henry haven't changed any of their opinions toward Jason or Anthony; they just see some value in keeping them among their loyal admirers, and beyond that, they just enjoy manipulating people and Jason is highly susceptible to the right kind of flattery.

I realize this story has been around for a while and doesn't get updated that regularly, and it's for a pretty obscure old film to begin with. But I always welcome feedback, and the more the merrier when it comes to details.