A/n: Random observation: large bruises on your husband's thigh begin to look like the continent of Africa once they start to get less road rashy and more splotchy. also, elbows begin to look very weird once the blood pool starts to shift. But, he can do pushups( necessary for next month's PRT) so he's sanguine. Get it.. sanguine..Anyone who watches Firefly gets the joke. Oh, yeah, and this is the 'cliff hanger' for this story. Only took me nine chapters...
Chapter Nine
As Bachelor Parties went, it was pretty tame. No nearly nude exotic dancers, no drunken debauchery, no one jumping out of cakes. But Joe Hardy couldn't have been happier. He was surrounded by friends old and new, and even had a surprise crasher in the form of his father, who brought along a few iphone pics of Baby Cohen. There was much non manly cooing over the infant as well as a lot of good natured ribbing towards Joe, with comments like "See what you have to look forward to!"
Fenton even added his own lighthearted warnings about 2 am feedings and diaper duty. Joe took it all in stride, once again threatening Frank with the arduous duty of being the guardian of the 3 dozen he expected to have. At that point, Mitch offered his services as babysitter, but only for a dozen at a time, and only the girls. That set everyone off into gales of laughter that were triggered by seemingly innocuous comments for the rest of the night. Cushions were rearranged to provide an impromptu bed of sorts for Fenton who had been easily persuaded to have several beers.
The next morning, they all pitched in chopping wood for the wood stove, making coffee and making the pancakes from the all in one mix Bruce and Mitch provided along with syrup. Of course Joe was not allowed anywhere near the pancake mix...
They ate well, still laughing and enjoying each others' company. But soon after the cleanup was completed, the party broke up, with Chet getting a lift back with Tony and Biff. Only Fenton stayed behind. It took about three seconds for Frank to realize that their father wanted to dispense a little wisdom so he rather transparently suggested that he start loading the trolley and made himself scarce.
Fenton smiled indulgently at Frank's not so subtle exit. Joe had been distracted by a lone slice of pizza that had somehow survived the previous evening, although it's time was certainly up now. He had plopped down on the well worn couch after returning all the cushions to their proper place and had his feet up on the table. He was leaning back, the half eaten slice in his lap, eyes closed but with a half smile on his face. The eldest Hardy spent several seconds just looking at his youngest child, and the smile softened to become rather tender.
Joe sensed he was being watched, though, and half opened one eye. "Yeeeees?" he intoned in an amused voice.
"Just wondering when you grew up and became an adult, is all." Fenton replied with a trace of nostalgia.
"According to many, I haven't as yet done so." The tone was light and mocking, but Fenton saw the brief flash of ..something.. in his son's sapphire blue eyes that told him it was a sore subject. Fenton opted to treat it lightly.
"Son, no matter how old you get you will always be your mother's little boy!" he chuckled as he sat down next to the child that was a (male) carbon copy of his mother.
Joe's return chuckle was a little rueful. "That's not who I meant and you know it." He sighed a little but the smile was gentle and forgiving. "It's more of a feeling I get when somebody says something. It's probably just me. But sometimes the teasing isn't so much fun any more."
"Your brother?" Fenton asked gently.
"Yes. No. Sometimes." Joe quickly shook his head in confusion. "I dunno." He sighed deeply. "It's probably all in my head anyway, self fulfilling prophesy and all that." Another sigh. "Sometimes I just wanna be taken seriously, instead of everybody assuming I'll make some immature crack."
"Even though you usually do?" Fenton cocked an eyebrow as he spoke sardonically.
Joe started to look offended, then quickly realized it was true. "Pot, meet Kettle? Is that what you're saying?" he sounded a little ashamed.
"I'm saying that sometimes you come across as Jekyl and Hyde." Fenton had come into the room prepared to dispense wisdom and advice pertaining to marriage and how to keep it fresh but was having to shift on the fly to offer insight into something else entirely. "In the field, you're professional, but in the office you still tend to spend as much time playing Spider Solitaire as you do writing reports. It doesn't matter that they get done and reasonably on time. You give the appearance of being cavalier about that aspect of the job." He didn't reveal his numerous admonishments to Frank who was constantly griping about the subject, telling Frank to lighten up as long as the work got done. "You tend to waltz in whenever you feel like it, and that irks your brother a lot. He feels as if he has to take up the slack." Suddenly Fenton had a thought. "Joseph, did you think getting married would suddenly make everyone treat you differently?"
Joe actually blushed. "I was hoping, yeah." He shifted on the couch, wincing as his broken wrist got jostled. "Guess I need to earn it though, huh?"
"I'm not suggesting you turn into a stick in the mud, your enthusiasm and attitude are good things to have. In moderation." Fenton urged. "Frank is too staid sometimes, and you prevent him from turning into a workaholic. But sometimes, professionalism is more appropriate than wisecracks." He hoped he was getting his point across without breaking his youngest son's spirit.
Joe pondered the words for a moment before looking sideways at his father.
"Any more pearls of wisdom, Father o' mine?" he sheepishly asked.
"Actually yes. I have several speeches that have been prepared for all sorts of momentous occasions." Fenton began slightly formally although his deep brown eyes twinkled merrily. "Would you like to hear the one about never going to bed angry first, or the one about never taking her for granted?"
"Trust me, Dad, I learned my lesson after Iola." Joe's voice broke just the barest hint when he said her name. "Anything more knowledge you can dispense?"
"Hmm. Well I do have a very lovely one about not being shy about showing her you love her in public, but I was sort of saving that one for your brother." It was no secret that Frank was far more reserved when it came to the 'mushy stuff' when around others, while Joe was far less worried about it. Joe grinned at that. "Oh! I know" Fenton sat up straight. "The one about knowing when and how much to tell her about how close you came to dying." He sobered now, and shifted so he was facing his son directly. Even Joe lost the grin and nodded somberly.
"It's a very fine line, Son, between telling the truth and causing needless worry. You have to make a judgement call, and it will change every time, about what you think she can and cannot handle. Sometimes it's better to get yelled at after the fact about what to tell her. And for goodness' sake don't gloss over it either, that's just as bad as broadcasting every grisly detail." Fenton shook his head at some long ago transgression and remembered the tongue lashing he got from both Laura and Gertrude.
"Dad, you know how much sadness and tragedy she's had. I don't wanna add to it" Joe protested.
"A solid marriage is built on Trust and Honesty, Joe. And that means in all things, not just the ones that are convenient or easy. You will scare her. You will upset her. And she will do the same to you. No matter how hard you try not to, it will happen; probably unintentionally, but it will. But the minute you start hiding things, no matter how legitimate you think your reasons are, it starts to escalate. Before too long it will be too easy to do, and then she will wonder what else you are keeping from her." He paused, waiting for the words to sink in before continuing. "Sometimes, it's better to beg forgiveness after the fact. You don't have to tell her right away, but you do have to come clean. About everything. Except where you hide her Birthday present. That you can keep to yourself, no matter how much she begs." Fenton smiled conspiratorially then.
"Or anything related to National Security." Joe said it with a knowing grin, but both of them knew there was a more than decent chance that could eventually be a possibility.
"Lucky for you, Halloran has her own National Security concerns and will understand when you have to be circumspect." Fenton replied easily.
"Did anybody ever tell you you were pretty smart?" Joe asked his father fondly. "I mean, for an old guy." he couldn't resist teasing. He leaned over and hugged his parent with one arm. "Thanks, dad."
"Any time, son. Just don't tell your brother what I said. I don't want to have to rewrite all my speeches." Fenton grinned as he returned the hug before standing up. "But I really need to be going. Apparently I have been volunteered to decorate."
By this time Frank had completed 2 runs back to the car and the SUV was loaded with everything but their gym bags of clothes and the bags of garbage and recyclables that were going to be loaded the next morning as they left for the wedding. Fenton gave both his sons one last hug before wagging a finger in Joe's direction. "I expect you to be on time for a change. In fact, I think you really need to aim for early for once in your life."
"Yes, Dad." Joe's smile was unrepentant. "That's what Frank is for, he's my built in alarm clock. Tell Halloran I swear I will be at the altar on schedule and that nothing will keep me away from her."
Fenton leaned into Frank's ear and whispered loudly enough for Joe to hear. "Make that 2 hours early. Can't be too careful!" with a final wink, he took off down the path toward his own car.
Since Joe was pretty much useless when it came to chores, he suggested that they drive into town for dinner and that he would even pay for once. Frank, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth especially when it came to Joe spending money, let alone on food, immediately accepted and wasted no time, hoping to avoid any possible reneging on his brother's part.
The diner was busy that evening, it was apparently the town meeting hall. A few of the locals called out congratulations and well wishes to Joe with requests that they be passed on to Halloran as well. Bernice added her own sentiments and insisted that pie and coffee was on her.
They stopped by the Minimart attached to the gas station on their way back and grabbed another 6 pack and some chips and dip for a late night snack. Joe was bouncing off the walls in anticipation and happiness and Frank was helplessly drawn into the enthusiasm. But unlike his father, who offered sage advice, Frank was unable to start any real meaningful conversation. If he had been forced into a confession, he might have admitted he was feeling a little..melancholy. Although he adored Halloran, and firmly believed she was good for Joe in many ways, he couldn't help but feel a little sad that their brotherly relationship was once again undergoing a permanent change. But he was not about to let his brother see he was feeling sorry for himself, so he firmly quashed any gloomy thoughts that threatened to pop up all evening.
But Joe surprised him by declaring he wanted to hit the sack early; it was barely 10 pm. "I thought maybe we could get on the road and stop for breakfast along the way. Lord knows we won't have time to eat again until dinner!" Frank agreed and flipped him for the bed. Joe lost and no amount of puppy dog eyes or pointed hints about being the Groom or an invalid made any difference. However, Frank did let him have the extra pillow to support his wrist.
The next morning, Frank was woken up by the smell of freshly brewing coffee. With a start, he realized it was barely sunrise as he scrambled out of bed and hastily threw on a pair of jeans. Joe greeted him with a far too chipper "Hiya, Big Bro!" and a cup brimming with caffeine goodness.
"Who are you and what have you done with my Baby Brother, the one who sleeps till noon?!" he growled in mock suspicion even as he grinned widely.
"I am his evil twin Skippy. I have kidnapped Joe and tossed him into the outhouse as I intend to marry the Fair Maiden myself and experience her charms to the fullest." This was said with a very serious and even threatening manner that was totally ruined by the bright floral apron slung over his bare chest and bedhead full of tangled blond curls.
After two cups of coffee each, and meticulously putting out all fires, they were on their way. Both were casually dressed until after breakfast, which was in a hotel restaurant about 45 minutes outside of Calverton. Frank chose the spot as it also had a workout facility complete with fully loaded locker rooms. He paid the day fee to use the amenities and they took showers and changed into their tuxes. He had to admit, Joe looked drop dead handsome in the modern cut jacket that showed off his broad shoulders quite nicely. Not to be outdone, he couldn't help but notice he got just as many admiring looks from the ladies in the airy reception area as Joe had. (Blondes may have more fun, but there ain't nothin' wrong with being tall dark and handsome) he smirked to himself as he overheard Joe quoting "Bond; James Bond." under his breath.
"Are you ready, 007?" he smirked to Joe. "I did sort of promise Dad I'd get you there early."
"Get me there too early and I might get cold feet and bail." Joe tried to argue. "I mean if I have too much time to think about it I might panic." he looked so earnest that for almost a half second Frank actually considered thinking he was serious. But then he caught that all too familiar evil sparkle in sapphire eyes and he just shook his head resignedly.
"Get in the car Brat." he chuckled affectionately. "Wonder if I can start a new wedding tradition. Instead of giving the bride away maybe we can give you away instead!"
They were making great time. The weather was perfect, the roads were remarkably empty and by Frank's calculations, helped along by the GPS unit which was counting down their journey, they were well on track to make the Church with a good 45 minutes to spare. Joe had just reached over to change the dial on the car radio..for the fourth time in ten minutes.. when Frank suddenly felt a shudder through the steering wheel and he lost control of the Impala, headed straight towards the guardrail and the very large drop on the other side.
A/n: Currently working on the final chapter( plus epilogue as I thought maybe you'd be all upset if the last chapter was not from the boy's POV. ) it's slow going for some reason, I can't seem to find a way to wrap it up while at the same time not wrapping it up. If I get it done this week, I may be extra super nice and post M-W-F next week just so I can then relax and concentrate on the myriad of things I have to deal with next month.