Reba needed a Maid of Honor, and her choices were limited. She had few close friends. These were mostly fellow artists, with all the advantages and flaws of artists. For instance, Sarah Baxter, the jeweler, brought a sharp sense of style and keen organizational skills. With one week left, Sarah could be relied on in a stressful, and even chaotic situation.
She also recommended they get married in the nude. “Naked before God!” she cried, quite serious. A memorable wedding, she said. One could be sure.
Catherine Baker, by default, rose to the top of the list. She loved Reba. And however unconventional her private life, she could be relied upon, as the former CEO of multiple companies, to be fairly appropriate.
“Baker?” Walt asked Reba. “Are you certain?” He was having his own problems. He needed a Best Man. Fast.
“Why not? She knows what she’s doing. Besides, I don’t have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“She kind of decided she’s the one. She can be a very forceful woman.”
Forceful is the word. Reba’s new Maid of Honor had quite a history. Catherine Baker muscled aside a smug cadre of male insiders to become CEO of Lock and Key. They hardly knew what hit them. Then she quit, and married the owner of a competing company. Divorcing him, she somehow took control of that company, too, gleefully watching as her ex-husband was led to the curb by security. It was not a stretch to say Reba, in picking Catherine, made a deal with the devil. Walt said this to her.
“Better the devil you know,” Reba replied. “Or do you want to get married in the nude?”
***
You could choose me,” John Schatz said, stirring his coffee.
Walt hadn’t considered this. To cover his embarrassment he lied, telling him he didn’t think he would accept.
“Really? I would love to be Best Man. You kids are like family.”
Kids? Walt thought. He and Reba were forty. Or forty-ish.
Schatz continued. “And you need someone as a counterweight. Baker can be a very forceful woman.”
“You’re right,” Walt said. He marveled at the man’s lightning perception. “She’s already got Reba in a seven-thousand dollar wedding dress.”
“Seven-thousand?”
“Have you seen how pregnant she is? It will take two dresses. Believe me, if Catherine wasn’t paying…”
“She’s paying?” Schatz was thoroughly offended. ”She’s one-upping us already! What are you doing about flowers?”
Walt hadn’t thought about it.
“I know a florist. You’ll also need catering.” Schatz jumped to his feet. “Let me know if Baker tries to pay for anything else.”
“Why?”
“I’m the Best Man.” He grabbed his coat. “And this means war.”
***
That night Walt and Reba ate homemade pea soup. Reba had him on a vegetable diet. He was starting to get used to it. He ladled another bowl and returned to the table. “We’re going to have to reign in Ms. Baker and Mr. Schatz,” he said.
“Schatz? What about him?”
“He’s my Best Man, and he’s trying to pay for everything.”
Reba dropped her spoon with a clank. “What do you mean, Best Man?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I decided he was the guy. Actually, he decided.”
Reba was appalled. “Are you crazy? Don’t you know his history? He’ll hijack the wedding. He’ll use it to polish his reputation, or what’s left of it. He’ll brag and bluster and get handsy with the help.”
“How is that different from Catherine Baker?”
Reba thought about this. Then thought some more. “You’re right. Better the devil you know…”
“…than the devil you don’t,” Walt finished the old adage.
They saw things the same way, something that didn’t happen very often. At least lately. They also agreed if they had to invite the devil, they could have done worse.
Richard Donnelly lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Classic flyover land. Which makes us feel just a little… superior. He publishes a weekly column of essays on the writing life at richarddonnelly.substack.com