Tammy was chief bridesmaid this time, partnering Adam’s brother, Jason, who was best man. Luckily, Jason proved to be amusing company. He was a graphic artist, openly gay, and like many gay men, handsome, witty and charming. He made her laugh with his comments on everything, and his best man speech was wonderful, spiced with anecdotes that had everyone rolling in their seats.
He was also a good dancer and delighted that she was, too. Dancing with him was sheer fun, no sexual tension involved. He made it easy for her to get through the wedding with a smile on her face and be genuinely happy for Jennifer and Adam.
It was only when it was all over and she was back in her old studio apartment with Hannah, hanging the creamy apricot ballgown in her clothes cupboard, that depression hit. Her other three bridesmaid dresses hung there carefully preserved in plastic bags; the mauve one from Celine’s wedding, where she had first met Fletcher; the blue one from Kirsty’s where she’d been unable to deny the attraction he exerted on her; the purple one from Lucy’s where he had been unable to deny the attraction she exerted on him; now the apricot one, which marked the fact there was no happy ending in sight for her in this march of time.
It wasn’t Fletcher who was trapped in a marriage by a baby. He had what he wanted. She was the one who felt caught with no way out. She could walk away from Fletcher but she couldn’t walk away from her child. Nor could she take him from his father.
I’ll never be a bride, she thought, closing the door on the dresses that were linked to dreams come true for her friends. Ironically, Hannah was full of her dream, too. It wasn’t Jennifer’s wedding she wanted to hash over with Tammy, but visions of her own.
Grant Summers, the guy she’d met at Terrigal over a year ago, was definitely getting serious about planning a future with her. Hannah was now spending most weekends with him and loving every minute of them. He owned a sports shop in the main street of the beach resort and served as a surf life-saver on Sundays, playing a leading part in the club’s activities and competitions with other clubs. According to Hannah, who had always been the most sport-oriented one in the gang, he was a fantastic athlete with legions of friends.
Tammy could see the tight circle of their school gang rippling outwards, gathering more and more people who would belong to it. It made her even more sadly conscious that Fletcher chose to stand apart. If only he could learn to take an interest in others, widen his world to encompass people who had their own worth in different fields to his, they could share a much fuller life than the one contained in their private home.
Whether it was possible to draw him out she didn’t know. It wasn’t easy to keep fighting his rejection of what would mean a lot to her, yet she knew walking away was not a viable alternative. That struck her forcefully as she stood alone in the studio apartment after Hannah had left the next morning. It felt very empty. Her life was not here anymore. It was with John and Fletcher and she had to make the best of it.
Her resolution took a direct hit the moment she walked into their home. Fletcher was in the living room, his face darkly brooding as he stared out at the view, one hand clutching a sheaf of papers which he was slapping against his thigh. He waited until the door clicked shut then swung on her, his eyes hard, angry, accusing, instantly throwing her into emotional turmoil.
What had she done to deserve such an attitude from him? She felt herself bristling at the unfairness of whatever judgement he was making. He could have been at Jennifer’s wedding. He had no right to be critical of her for any reason.
‘Where have you been?’
The totally unexpected demand and the violent feeling in his voice knocked the breath out of Tammy. She stared at him in utter bewilderment. ‘You know where I’ve been. I told you I was spending the night in my old apartment with Hannah.’
He attacked again, his eyes blazing with cynical disbelief. ‘Did you? Or was that a cover for more illicit pleasure?’
She shook her head, unable to even guess where he was coming from. ‘What are you accusing me of, Fletcher?’
He came at her, shaking the sheaf of papers as though they were weapon to strike her with. ‘Celine e-mailed these to me this morning.’ He flashed them at her one by one—photographs of her laughing with Jason, dancing with Jason, very graphically enjoying Jason’s company.
Tammy instantly realised what this was about. Celine…smacking Fletcher in the face. Celine…stirring the pot behind Tammy’s back because she didn’t approve of how her brother treated her friend. Celine…deliberately inciting jealousy and apparently succeeding.
And maybe that hadn’t been a bad idea since it had put a burning burr under Fletcher’s skin, goading him into demonstrating that Tammy was more important to him than she had allowed herself to think. She sent a mental thank-you to her friend and seized the chance to attack her.
‘You could have been there, Fletcher, dancing with me, having fun with me. You chose not to. You waved me off, telling me to enjoy myself. Don’t you think it’s incredibly perverse of you now to be angry that I did?’
‘Just how far did you enjoy yourself?’ he snarled.
‘If you’d been at the wedding, you’d know there are no grounds for this stupid suspicion.’
‘Stupid?’ he bit out, his eyes seething with black resentment.
‘Yes, stupid!’ she hit back. ‘Jason Pierce is gay. Openly gay. Even you, with your habit of blanking out other people, would have seen something so obvious.’
‘Gay…’ His breath hissed out as though releasing some of the steam inside him. His eyes glittered with fury. ‘I’m going to wring my sister’s neck next time I see her.’
‘The two of you do seem to have a strained relationship. Celine occasionally expresses the desire to kill you.’
‘I have never attempted any interference between her and Andrew.’
‘They have a marriage, Fletcher. A solid marriage that gives a lot of emotional security. That’s somewhat different to a partners-in-parenthood contract, which Celine sees as falling a long way short of being a good relationship for me.’
That visibly pulled him back from any further uncontrolled outburst. He turned an intense scrutiny on her. ‘Do you see it as not good enough for you?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she answered with point-blank honesty. ‘I’d prefer to have a partner who actually wants to share in my life, what’s important to me, but for John’s sake, I have to learn to live with the loneliness you inflict on me every time you separate yourself from what I want to do. Every time you separate yourself to do what’s important to you without telling me what it is, not letting me share in it, even if only in a limited way.’