A Friend of the Bride's

I hoofed the two blocks from the hotel to the church. The walk helped and by the time I got there I was feeling a bit better. The rehearsal wasn't due to start for another hour, but since this wasAmy's wedding I'd wanted enough time to work out all of the details with the organist. I was looking for him when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Tim?"

I turned around and for the first time in over five years, I looked into Amy's gorgeous face. I gave her a big smile.

"Hi, Amy!"

"It's so good to actually see you again!" she said, surprising me with an unprecedented hug and a peck on the cheek.

I automatically hugged her back, feeling her long-desired body up against mine for the first time. She felt sensational, just like I'd dreamed she would.

As always, Amy was stunning. She had matured over the last five years, becoming even more beautiful, if that was possible. Tall and blonde, with nicely rounded hips, a narrow waist and full, high breasts, shecould have been a supermodel if she hadn't decided to spend the last five years getting a degree in psychology.

As we stepped back out of our quick embrace I could see that something big was on her mind. I had never seen an embarrassed look on her face before, but I was seeing one now. Without another word, she took my hand and led me around the corner, down the hall and into an empty Sunday school classroom, closing the door behind us. I didn't have the first clue what she was up to. She took both of my hands and looked me straight in the eye.

"Tim, I have a huge favor to ask of you. It's so big that I've spent the last two months working up the nerve to even ask."

Wow, I would have thought that asking a guy you'd blown off for years to fly out and sing in your wedding would have been the ultimate in chutzpah. This next one must be huge.

"Amy, you know all you have to do ask," I told her gallantly. "I'd always do anything for

you."

Sucker. I realized that even now I was still circling her flame. As always, I was helpless to stop myself.

She nodded. She obviously knew me only too well.

"It's Clint. He's almost everything I've ever wanted in a man. He's handsome, smart, driven and he's a huge success as a lawyer."

"He sounds like a great guy," I said, managing to keep the last lingering traces of jealousy out of my voice. "So what do you mean by 'almost'?"

She took a deep breath. I could see in her eyes that what she really wanted to do was turn around and run, but she stuck it out. It was good to see her thrash around on the hook for once.

"It's our sex life. In public Clint is loving and attentive, but in private he's a total dud as a lover."

Whoa. I wasn't certain I wanted to hear this and I couldn't believe she would share something so personal withme of all people. She was looking at me expectantly, though.

"Amy, I'm sure that if you just give him some time, he'll come around," I assured her, not knowing what else to say. This whole thing was just weird.

She nodded. "That's what my friends say, but I've tried to get him to be more passionate since we got engaged a year ago and nothing's changed."

It went through my mind what her 'favor' might be, but I put the perverted thought out of my mind. I still had no clue as to why she was telling me all this. Did she expect me to go and give Clint some sort of Dr. Ruth-type advice? Hell, I was just a singer. Amy was the one with a degree in psychology.

"What can I do to help, Amy?"

Her voice softened to a whisper and she hung her head, unable to even meet my eyes.

"Tim, just once, before it becomes adultery, I want to feel that kind of passion. You're the one man in the whole world that I can trust to not go blabbing about it."

Wow, when she'd said she had a surprise for me she hadn't been kidding! The previously discarded perverted thought burst back into the foreground of my mind as she went on.

"I've also heard that you really know how to treat a girl."

Oh God, not that stupid People magazine profile again. I knew I'd never live it down. They hadn't managed to crack the secret of my mysterious past, but they'd talked to the one big name pop singer I had dated and she had gushed to the interviewer that I was the most accomplished lover she'd ever had. It was completely ridiculous of course, but we had the same agent. I'd bet money he put her up to it. Now there were rumors that I was a finalist for that idiotic "Sexiest Man Alive" magazine cover. Just great.

But I still couldn't believe this was happening. After so many failed attempts to date Amy, it had taken me years – and moving halfway across the country – to get over her. Now here she was, throwing herself at me only twenty-four hours from her own wedding! I could understand now why Amy had been nervous about telling me about my 'surprise'. I didn't know what to say and I'm sure my face showed it.

Her eyes were begging me now. "Please, Tim. Your constant devotion to me for all of those years didn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. You've been my gallant knight forever. Will you do this for me?"

Would I? Wow, that was a good question. I had wanted to be with her forever, but things had changed. Even though I hardly knew Clint, it wouldn't be sporting to bed his fiancé now. Sure, he'd slept with one of the bridesmaids, but that had been before he had proposed to... hey, wait just one second!

"Amy, how long did you say you've been engaged?"

Amy looked puzzled. "Since last summer, but we only announced it in January."

That rat! Clint had already cheated on her. I was guilt-free now.

"Amy," I told her, "there's nothing I'd like to do more." Her relief was palpable.

"Clint and I have to meet with the photographer for a while after the rehearsal, then everyone thinks I'm going shopping with a friend this afternoon. Can I come up to your room instead?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

I gave her my spare room key and a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

"Room 256."

She gave me a big hug then hurried out into the hall and out of sight, looking for Clint I would assume.

After she left, I sat down on one of the little plastic kiddy chairs and reviewed the whole unbelievable encounter in my mind. It had been almost too much to absorb.

I couldn't believe my luck. I had come here because I could never tell her no and now it looked like my reward was going to be a sweet one. I hadn't even bothered fantasizing about such an occurrence because it would have seemed so far-fetched.

Now, however, my lusty, obsessive mind kicked into high gear. Maybe there was more than just sexual incompatibility between them. Their whole relationship might just be as fragile as an eggshell. There were still twenty-eight hours until the wedding and I might just be able to convince her that I was the man she belonged with.

Buoyed by my sudden optimism, I headed out into the hall with a new outlook on life. I was looking for the organist when I came around the corner into the foyer and saw Amy again.

She was talking with a group of family and friends and the groom was just walking in from the other direction. Amy had told me that Clint was in his early thirties, a member of a famous Massachusetts political family, and had just made full partner in a prestigious law firm back in Boston. No big surprise there – Amy was always a high achiever and would expect no less in a husband.

She had also told me that he was a handsome fellow, but I'd realized at the bachelor party that her words hadn't done him justice. Clint must have been about six foot two and had a face that could have made him a leading man out in my new hometown. He also had the body of a linebacker. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was and where he was going. A true man's man.

I knew all that and still thought I had a chance at stealing her away, but what happened next stomped my new-found hope right back down into the dirt.

As he entered the room, he gave Amy a dazzling smile, took her in his arms and gave her a kiss that probably made most of the watching women swoon. Amy returned his kiss with apparent enthusiasm. This was the first time I had seen them together and it was a revelation to me. They had to be about the most perfect couple I'd ever seen. The thoughts I'd harbored for the last few minutes were reduced to mere wisps, blown away by the power of that display.

I slipped right back out the doorway, hoping that neither of them had seen me walk in. I'd have died if Amy had caught the jealous look that I'm certain was obvious on my face.

* * * * *

I'd just finished my sound check and a quick run-through of the song with Bill, the organist and amazingly irreverent friend of Amy's family. I was sitting up front next to the organ, trying to keep a low profile when the rehearsal started in earnest. The wedding party staggered up the isle, two by two. From the weary expressions on the faces of the fairer sex, it was a good guess that last night's bachelorette party had been a roaring success too.

In a dramatic contrast, the church looked absolutely amazing. Amy had gone first class with the preparations for the big event. She had told me over the phone that the groom's family had insisted on contributing a bunch of money toward the effort, but I hadn't realized the scope of the project. These nuptials would rival the glitziest of the Hollywood weddings I'd been to. The cold stone walls of the sanctuary were brightened with huge, colorful banners, the century-old stone floors had been buffed to a mirror shine and there were enough strategically placed flowers to shame Queen Elizabeth's royal gardener.

There was a low murmur of activity as photographers, caterers, florists, decorators and the like buzzed around, making ready for tomorrow afternoon's big event. At least they stayed out of the main isle. A withered old woman was directing traffic, holding each couple at the entrance until the preceding couple made it to the chancel steps.

I hadn't met any of the girls yet, but Bill was helping me out with names while playing the entrance march. I was trying to take my mind off of my woes by attempting to match a face to the name Steve had dropped.

"That's Heidi there. She's Amy's roommate from Boston," Bill noted.

Heidi was very attractive in an Amazon-looking sort of way, but not the one. I was amazed at Bill's ability to play the intricate processional, watch the proceedings and carry on a casual conversation at the same time. His touch on the keys was highly skilled, but very natural. I could have brought this guy on tour with the band.

"That one's Susan, Clint's secretary. It caused a bit of a stir when he asked Amy to fit her in to the wedding party. I get the distinct impression that Amy doesn't like her much."

So this was the traitorous nymphomaniac. Amy had good instincts for who her friends were. Susan was a gap-toothed redhead who looked as if she would be facing a life-long battle with her weight. All I can say is that the groom must have been wearing beer glasses at the Christmas party. His taste in women had obviously improved since he had gotten engaged to Amy.

Other than that and the sheer scale of this event, it was all pretty common wedding rehearsal stuff. Not that I sing at a lot of weddings. As a matter of fact, this was my first.

I was waiting for my cue to stand up and do my thing, but what happened next changed my notion of romantic attraction forever. I saw the woman that the god's had created just for me – and no, forget the lead-in – it wasn't Amy.

A slim brunette stepped into the sanctuary's doorway on Steve's arm. I was immediately rocked to the core by my desire for her. What did Mario Puzo call it in The Godfather when Michael Corleone gets his first glimpse of the Sicilian girl? 'The Thunderbolt'? Well, I had been struck by The Thunderbolt. I was flat knocked senseless by this vision in faded blue jeans.

It wasn't love at first sight. It was more like love, lust, protective urges, desire to raise kids with her, curses that I hadn't meet her the day I was born, and a sudden hope that there was a heaven so that I could spend the rest of eternity at her side. You know,that kind of thing.

"Who is that woman?" I managed to croak to Bill, the desire obvious in my voice I'm sure.

"That's Amy's great-aunt," he deadpanned. "She's helping to direct this show. Nasty old crone if ever there was one. I wouldn't have thought you'd be hot for her."

"No," I said, his humor temporarily lost on me, "the brunette."

"Oh,her. That's Carlotta. I don't know a whole lot about her, just what I've heard through the grapevine. Evidently, she was Amy's best friend back in college and she lives out in LA. Kind 'a cute from this angle, isn't she?" I was so taken with her that the convenient fact that she lived near me went almost unnoticed. I just nodded in response to his oddly worded question.

Cute she was, though not truly beautiful in the modern supermodel sense. She was too short and had too much of a baby face for that. She was perhaps five foot three and very slightly built with slender hips and rather small breasts under her conservatively cut long sleeve blouse. She exuded that clean, honest girl-next-door feel though, and her hair was pulled back into a casual ponytail, a mild fetish of mine.

What really struck me to the core though, were her deep brown eyes, even from across the length of the sanctuary. So expressive, so open – I was immediately lost in them. I suppose that most men wouldn't have given Carlotta a second glance – thirty seconds before, my description of my own dream woman would have been radically different. That old standard of beauty had been thrust aside now though. Carlotta was absolute, devastating perfection.

When the crone released them, Steve started escorting her up the isle and the unprecedented feeling only got stronger. The way she moved, the obvious shyness in the way she smiled and spoke to her escort, the way the late-morning sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows highlighted her long, dark hair, it all made her completely irresistible to me. If I'd actually believed in such things, I'd have had to say it was downright supernatural!

Without moving her head, she glanced over toward me and our eyes met for the first time. I watched as she gasped and caught her breath. For a long moment we stared openly at each other before she shyly looked away. In that moment, I had seen all I needed to see. The connection was two-way; she had felt it too. She actually stumbled for a second and clung to Steve's arm for support, so I knew it wasn't just in my head.

Carlotta and Steve went their separate ways at the top of the chancel steps; Steve toward me and Carlotta over to the other side. I was almost in a panic. I mean, what are you supposed to do when you absolutely know you've met the woman you were born to spend the rest of your life with? This rehearsal was going to seem like it was eight hours long!

But as she turned to face the pews, Bill's odd reference to her beauty from a certain angle suddenly made gruesome sense. From where I was sitting, clear over on the side of the sanctuary, I had only seen her from the right. What Ihadn't seen was shocking in it's incongruity. The left side of her face didn't even remotely belong with right. Carlotta's cheek and temple were covered in thick, discolored scar tissue. The ugly mass ran well up into what should have been her hairline and down her neck under the collar of her blouse. Her left ear was a ragged stump.

For just the barest moment I felt a horrified look involuntarily flash across my face. I quickly got myself under control and brought back the smile, but it was too late. She had seen it. Her shy smile disappeared and the hurt and pain that came over her expression nearly broke my heart. Oh no! I wanted to jump to my feet and run to her and tell her that no, no, that's not the way I felt. But to my everlasting shame, I didn't. I needed a minute to sort out just what Iwas thinking.

"They say Carlotta was in a real nasty car accident last winter," Bill said in answer to my unasked question. "Third degree burns, compound fractures, internal injuries, you name it, she had it – and in bucket loads. Supposedly the paramedics didn't think she'd even be alive by the time the helicopter reached the scene." He sighed. "A darn shame, I'd say. She's such a pretty little thing. I heard she's taking time off from the reconstructive surgery to be here."

I just nodded, unable to speak.

I was torn by my conflicting emotions. I had waited twenty-three years to meet the woman I was born to be with, but seconds after I'd found her I'd discovered that she was horribly disfigured. To compound things, I'd stupidly let her see my fleeting expression of revulsion. I loathed myself for my visceral reaction to her ordeal, but emotions are a difficult thing to control. I knew I still loved her with an intensity that would have startled me even two minutes ago. Her injuries had just caught me by complete surprise.

All the while, my eyes never left Carlotta. At last she peeked a glance back toward me, and I gave her a big, apologetic smile. She didn't smile back – not exactly – but I got the distinct impression that she was taking my apology under advisement.

At that moment, Carlotta turned her attention back to the sanctuary entrance as Amy's father escorted the her up the isle. My eyes followed hers.

Her gorgeous face lit up with a broad smile as her dad handed her over to the groom. The handsome hunk walked her up the stairs to the alter and the pastor started going over the vows to make sure they had things worked out to everyone's satisfaction.

At last it was time for me to sing and I started into the requested 'All I Ask of You", from Amy's favorite musical, The Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't my usual kind of material, but I gave it all I had, my eyes never leaving Carlotta. She timidly glanced at me a couple of times and I could tell that she knew I was singing it just for her. I would have liked to sing the whole thing, but Bill and I cut it off as planned, halfway into the first verse. She didn't look my way again.

At last, Amy and The Hunk went down the isle together, followed by the rest of the wedding party. I hurried down the side isle, intending to catch Carlotta in the foyer. I was desperate to meet her and apologize, profess my undying devotion, ask her to marry me and a million other things, but the crone intercepted me before I could get there. She wanted to discuss which door I would use to enter and exit and exactly where I would stand – all stuff I had already worked out with Bill.

While I was trying to extricate myself, I glanced around, looking for Carlotta. There she was, in the foyer's doorway with her back to me, talking to Amy. I caught Amy's eye and she winked at me. A few seconds later, Carlotta turned her head to look at me with an unreadable expression on her face, then turned away and resumed talking to Amy. They both drifted out of my sight.

Finally, I was able to convince the crone that she needn't worry about my part of the wedding and I rushed into the foyer to find Carlotta. She and Amy were nowhere to be seen. I searched everywhere to no avail. I finally found out from Amy's mom that Carlotta had said she wasn't feeling well and had caught a lift back to the hotel. I was out of luck.

Somehow, though, it never occurred to me to stand Amy up. I was so conditioned to putting her first that the thought never entered my mind. I'd told her I'd be there and that was that.

I found Steve and begged off of golf, grimacing and claiming a migraine.

When I got back to my room, I filled the ice bucket with hot water from the bathtub faucet, placed it on the nightstand and dropped in my bottle of massage oil to warm. I also placed a condom in the drawer next to the Gideon's Bible, should it be necessary – the condom that is. There was nothing the slightest bit Holy in what we were about to do. What had possessed me to agree to this insane rendezvous?