Guilt

The duties of a Best Man are traditionally to defend the Honor of the Bride, if that is ever questioned, during the Wedding Ceremony. In modern times, it has become the duty of the Best Man to organize the Bachelor Party and hold the Wedding Rings for the Ceremony, if there are no cute kids to be the Ring Bearer or, god forbid, pets to bear the rings. The Best Man can also serve as a stand in for the Groom if he is called away as in time of war. Long ago in times of political marriages, he would fulfill the obligation of the marriage by becoming the Groom.

My buddy Steve was getting married, again. His first wedding had been small as we had both been in the Service, away from family and we had been between deployments to the Wars. His first marriage had been complicated. I don't think she started cheating on him until our second deployment. The divorce was simple, because they didn't have anything. So, here we were again, I was going to be Steve's Best Man again, but this wedding was huge. The local social event of the year.

It was ten years later, this woman that he was marrying was awesome, if you like blondes. This was a running joke in our little group. She did however seem to carry some of the traits of a stereotypical blonde.

Trisha was the sweetest, most kind hearted, decent woman and on top of all that she was hot and she really didn't know it. She had this cute innocence about her that just made you want to hug the stuffing out of her. It made her sexy as hell. Steve was really lucky. I thought they were a great couple too. I thought they had great communication skills and had a very mature relationship. It appeared that they never played any immature games with each other and never went to bed angry. If there was anything wrong with her, it was the fact that she seemed to be the classic blonde. She would do the goofiest things at times or say stuff during conversations that made you wonder how she got her Master's Degree. I know she had an MBA and it wasn't from some junk college either. I hadn't been around during their extended courtship. This was just the impression I was left with from the times when I was around them and what had become our extended circle of friends in Steve's home town.

I seemed to drift from meaningless relationship to meaningless relationship. I just could not find a woman that was the whole package. I would find one that was great in bed, but liked to play mind games to bolster her self-esteem or I would find one that was level headed and absolutely sucked in the sack. I will admit that I had my heart broken at a young age, so I am hard to date. I don't take shit from any woman. Want to play a game or 'test' me, there is the door, sweetheart. Which has shocked more than a few women. They felt their 'worth' afforded them some tolerance with regard to game playing and testing. No, it did not and they were quickly shown the door and confused as to why they were not 'given another chance'. Why would I give someone a chance to play more games or run more tests? Stupid! I'm a grown up and don't tolerate that shit at all.

The big day was approaching and everything was going relatively smoothly. The only real issue was Trisha's Mom, Steve's future Mother-in-Law. She was trying to make the wedding her dream wedding and not her daughter's. She had been trying to change the flowers, the color of the streamers and bunting and the music to be played during the Ceremony. We couldn't believe it and poor Trisha was getting really embarrassed.

Trisha's Dad had passed away a few years ago, so her Mom was a widow on the loose. Steve even suggested I seduce Trisha's Mom to get her to calm down and quit acting like such a bitch. He was only half joking.

I did start flirting with her. She was very attractive, being a 49-year old version of Trisha, except for the attitude. I was just trying to distract her from annoying everyone.

Finally, it was the night before the Wedding. The night of the Bachelor Party. Trisha takes me aside and makes me promise to make sure that Steve remains faithful to her during the night's planned debauchery. It bothers me that she even asks and I'm thinking that I am missing something I should be seeing in their relationship. I make a solemn promise that I will make sure that Steve remains true to her during the party. Steve was quite the womanizer when he was single, so there was some genuine concern. I also know that Steve is a braggard too, so many of his stories of his prowess as a man are exaggerated.

We jump in my truck and head to a strip club. Steve gets a couple of free lap dances, when the strippers find out that he was getting married tomorrow, but Steve behaves himself all night long. I don't drink because I stopped drinking a few years before as I needed to get Sober. Too many mornings waking up wondering where the fuck I was, were enough for me.

Later that night, Steve and I take a walk on the beach in front of my house. He is nursing a bottle of vodka and I am drinking a soda. We have a real heart-to-heart talk about what is important in life. We conclude that it was the friends we had and the relationships we cultivated in life that were most important. He makes me promise that if anything happens, that I will take care of Trisha and any future kids they have. I promise him that I will, as I thought he is just being his normal melancholy drunk. One of those pointless promises that you make to a drunk, that is soon forgotten.

I ask if he wants to walk back up to the house with me and he says he is going to just sit and listen to the waves for a while. I walk back up the beach to my house and go to sleep.

My alarm wakes me up and I smile in anticipation of today's wedding. I love weddings because I am a big romantic. I believe in true love and soulmates and all that stupid stuff. Probably part of the reason I walk around with a broken heart a lot of the time.

I look out my big windows to a beautiful view of the bay and see a police boat and small Coast Guard Cutter together. It looks like they are assisting a sailboat. I go downstairs to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee for everyone and make myself an espresso. I go into the guest room that Steve is supposed to be in and he isn't there. The bed hasn't even been slept in. I head down into the basement to see if he had slept on one of the couches there, because when guys partied really hard at the house, they would crash there sometimes. No Steve.

I search the whole house and wake the other two groomsmen and tell them I couldn't find Steve.

"Maybe he went to see Trisha?" One of them suggests.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." I say.

I call Trisha and ask if Steve is with her.

"No, he can't see me before the wedding." She replies. "Why are you asking me?"

"Well, he's not here." I say. I look out at the Coast Guard Cutter in the bay and have a bad feeling.

"He didn't go home with a stripper last night, did he?" Trisha half screams her question. Her words pull me out of my bad feeling. I think it's a stupid question, too.

"No, Trisha, you know he would never do that." I explain. "He came home with us last night and then we went for a walk on the beach. He may have just walked into town to get something to eat. He's done that before, so that's probably what he's done." I am trying to convince myself as much as I am trying to convince Trisha. "We're going to get cleaned up and then go get him. I'll bet he's down at Abe's Diner, having a cup of coffee right now."

"Okay, see you in a bit." Trisha says. She seems to have calmed down.

"Bye, honey." I say, ending the call, trying to keep it upbeat.

"You think he's at Abe's?" One of the groomsmen asks. I point out to the Coast Guard Cutter.

"Oh, God." He says quietly.

"What do you think happened?" The other groomsmen asks.

"I think he may have passed out and drown when the tide came in early this morning." I explain. "I'm going to call the Sheriff's Office and see what I can find out."

I had left Steve alone on the beach last night and now, I was pretty sure he was dead. I don't feel good about myself as a person.

The walk into town was almost two miles and while Steve had done it one time before, he bitched about it for months, because he has bad knees from being a paratrooper and swore he would never do it again.

I call the Sheriff' Office on the non-emergency line.

"Sheriff's Office, how may I direct your call?" The Operator asks.

"I need to speak to someone about the body that was recovered this morning in the bay. It may be a friend of mine that is supposed to be married today and I would like to help cushion the blow to his fiancée and family." I explain.

"Sir, we have not released that information to the public. How did you get hold of it?" She asks.

"Ma'am, my friend is missing and the Coast Guard is messing around in front of my house this morning." I reply.

"May I have your name and number, sir?" She asks.

I give it to her. I also give her Steve's name and a few identifying marks in case his wallet was not with his body. I end the call.

The two groomsmen look at me, I assume wondering what to do.

"Well, we promised we were going look for Steve at Abe's, so let's get showered and head to Abe's." I tell them. 20 minutes later, we were in my truck and headed to Abe's.

Of course, Steve was not there. We grabbed a table and order coffee and breakfast. Our waitress knew me and Steve. She asks us about the wedding. We put on our best smiles and tell her it is this afternoon and invite her to attend. By the end of the meal, she was flirting pretty heavy with both of the groomsmen.

My phone rings as I am paying the bill and I step outside to take the call. One of the Deputies is returning my call and asks me to come down to the morgue. I don't ask any questions because I know he couldn't answer them.

I hang up and meet the guys at the truck. I tell the guys we are headed to the morgue and that they were not to call anyone until I tell them that it was okay to do so. Neither of these guys were military and they have no idea how to handle stuff like this. They went to college with Steve and had careers as a Stock Broker and a Tort Lawyer, so they have no experience with stuff of this nature. I could see on their faces that they were on the edge of freaking out. They have been taking advantage of the atmosphere of the wedding to cut loose, but most of their behavior is well outside of their personalities. I doubt either one would have the courage to go to a strip club on their own or pick up the waitress in a diner.

"Hey, you two need to calm down. This is all about Trisha and Steve's Family now." I say to them in a voice that reminded me of when I used to be a Sergeant in the Army.

"You're right." They agree. We drive to the morgue. The Sheriff Deputy meets me at the door. He makes the other guys wait and we head down to where the bodies are stored. He opens the cooler, pulls out the tray and pulls back the sheet to reveal Steve's face. By this time, the Sheriff and Coroner have walked into the room.

"Yes, that's Steve Harris." I say.

"Yeah, we know. We found his wallet on him, but thanks." The Sheriff states.

"How did he die?" I ask, looking at the Coroner.

"I'm almost 100% sure he choked on his own vomit. He was dead before the tide came in and carried him out into the bay." The Coroner explains.

"Jesus," I say, under my breath.

"You're a close friend of the family?" The Sheriff asks.

"I'm his Best Man, he was supposed to get married today." I reply.

"Oh God," the Sheriff says. He rubs his face as he stares up at the ceiling. "I hate fatality notifications and this one is going to be a doozy."

"Sheriff that is part of the reason I am here. Steve and I were in the Service together. We did two tours. I know his fiancée, Trisha, as well as the family. I'm here to give her and his family the bad news." I explain.

"Wow, that's a heavy load. I really appreciate that." He says, shaking my hand.

I turn to the Coroner.

"Doctor, you say you're almost 100% sure. Do you think we could put cause of death as drowning? It is a little more dignified than choking on his own vomit and since there are no legal issues or insurance issues, it would be better for the family and allow Steve to have a little dignity in his passing." I ask.

The Coroner shares a look with the Sheriff and then looks back at me.

"Yeah, I think we can do that." He replies.

"Thanks, I really appreciate that." I say, shaking the Coroner's hand.

I coordinate with the Sheriff to follow me out to Steve's parents' house where Trisha was staying. I was hoping to catch her before she left to get her hair and nails done for the wedding.

As I drive over to Steve's parents' house, I think about my stupid promise to Steve to take care of Trisha that I made the night before. What did he mean by it? What was he expecting me to do? I'm sure he wasn't expecting me to pick up the slack for him after he died that evening. I really have no idea what to do about it, so I just dismiss it as an obligation.

We pull up the house just as Trisha, her mom, the bridesmaids and Steve's mom were leaving the house.

"Everyone please go back inside. I have something to tell you." I say smiling.

"Where's Steve?" Trisha asks me.

"The Groom can't see the Bride before the Wedding." I smile, lying my ass off.

"Why can't we leave?" "Is there something wrong?" "Why are you telling us what to do?" Are some of the questions that the women spout at me as I turn them around.

I herd the ladies back into the house and into the living room, it was like herding cats. I swear, Trisha was the only one that was housebroken.

The Sheriff keeps giving me sideways glances as I keep lying to everyone.

"Why is the Sheriff here?" Someone asks.

"We'll get to that in a moment." I reply.

Steve's Mom and Dad, brothers and sister and their families come into living room to see what is happening.

I am really amazed that people have bought my bullshit this long, but everyone has kept calm to this point.

Trisha is sitting in a chair and I kneel down in front of her, so I can look her in the eyes. I take both her hands in mine before I speak.

"Trisha, I have some terrible news. Early his morning, Steve drown in the bay." I say, calmly.

Her face changes expressions about three times; confusion, a smirk, sadness, as she thought this might be a wedding prank for a moment and then she glanced up at the Sheriff and knew it was real.

Steve's mom bursts into tears and hugs Steve's dad. Pretty soon, almost everyone is crying.

Trisha blinks at me as her eyes begin to tear up. Her lips begin to curl into a frown and I pull her to me. I wrap my arms around her as she begins to cry.

I just hold her for about 5 minutes as she soaks my shirt with her tears. I don't say a word, I just let her know that someone is here for her. Her mother comes to us at some point and hugs us both. She then leaves to go make coffee. Trisha's mother doesn't shed any tears. I've heard sociopaths seldom cry.

Trisha eventually pulls away from me and looks at me.

"What happened?" She asks.

"We took a walk on the beach late last night. We talked for a long time. He was drinking a bottle of vodka, but I didn't think he was that wasted. He must have passed out, the tide came in and he drown." I explain.

Her face crunches up in disbelief because she thinks I'm full of shit.

"He was so drunk that when the tide came in he didn't wake up and drown?" She questions me, the sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"Apparently, I just came from the Coroner." I say.

"Oh God, Steve, you went to identify the body and then came to tell me?" She whines in sympathy.

She leans forward out of her chair and hugs me, to comfort me.

"Yeah, I wanted you to hear it from someone that you were close to and not some official." I explain as I hold her.

I look over at Steve's parents and they look very upset. I break my hug with Trisha and take her by the hand and walk over to talk to Steve's parents. As we approach, they break apart and hug us both.

"I'm so sorry." I say to them.

The Sheriff steps over, makes his official notification to Steve's Parents and then he leaves.

"What happened?" Steve's Dad asks.

I go with the drunk-drowning story to maintain Steve's dignity and try to make it easy on them.

They ask where I was and I tell them that Steve had wanted to be alone on the beach. They don't blame me, but I still feel guilty for leaving him, even though I knew I wasn't responsible for his death.

"Oh my God! The Wedding!" Steve's mother exclaims and hugs Trisha.

"Well, let's just get the caterers to bring the food to a memorial." I suggest.

"Oh, God, guests are going to be arriving in three hours." Trisha says.

"I got this. We just tell them the wedding is cancelled and direct them to the reception hall and then we have a memorial. We can have a service for Steve next week." I suggest. I am able to think and plan clearly because I am not emotional. I think I not affected by Steve's death because so many of my friends had died in the Wars, that death was something I just accepted. I know that it was important to live life to the fullest because we all eventually died, it is inevitable.

"That's a great idea, Ron." Steve's Dad comments.

"Thanks, I'll get a big poster size picture of Steve printed and have it there at the reception hall." I offer. I open my phone and find a great picture of Steve wearing his baseball hat that Trisha hated because it was so ratty. I found another head shot of him in uniform in Afghanistan looking like a complete badass. I send them over to the office supply store that I have an account at and have a rush order for them to be printed on polystyrene poster board. I also ordered two easels for them to stand on at the memorial.

The bridesmaids are a mess, the groomsmen are useless and start to drink.

A few hours later, everyone starts to head over to the reception hall. I task myself with going to the church to redirect everyone to the reception hall.

Trisha insists on coming with me, which bothers me as I think she should be with her family.

We hop in my truck to drive to the church.

"Don't you want to be with your family?" I ask.

"Seriously, my mom? She is just going to bitch about how this affects her and start drinking. Wait till you see her at the memorial." Trisha comments.

"Sorry, she has been a handful." I say, laughing. I start driving to the church.

"Yeah," She agrees. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened to Steve. You said he drowned in the bay, but that doesn't sound right. And it didn't look like you were being honest." Trisha says. She isn't being accusatory, just observant.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I didn't want to embarrass the family or Steve. I feel a bit guilty because I kind of abandoned Steve on the beach, but you're correct. He didn't drown. The initial report from the Coroner is that he was so drunk that he choked on his own vomit and died. Then the tide came in and washed him into the bay. I talked to the Coroner and Sheriff this morning and asked them to make the Cause of Death Drowning. I did it for you, Steve's parents and Steve." I explained.

Trisha is quiet for a few moments as she thinks about what I had said.

"Thank you for telling me and thank you for doing that, Ron." She says, finally.

Trisha reaches over the center console of the truck and squeezes my hand. Then she doesn't let it go. I know she needs human contact, so I don't let go, but it makes me very uncomfortable.

We ride in silence for a bit longer.

"You don't have to be guilty for leaving him on the beach. He told you he wanted to be alone." Trisha says, absolving me of any wrongdoing. She gives my hand a squeeze.