There was talk of a storm coming, but everyone expected it to happen in a few weeks.
They would move the wedding up, just in case.
And so now, the wedding was a few days away. It would happen on Friday, and over the weekend Becky and him would get away and stay at a neighboring town for a few days before coming back to the rest of their lives.
Aunt Polly was always talking about it. That week, every dinner they ate, she would be talking about the etiquette and the clothes and the proper way to be married. Tom tried his best to listen, but really the thought of it all just made him feel swirling and pounded.
Those dinners, Sid would be looking over at Tom with a smile at first, and then it faded to a blank face, watching. And Sid moved Aunt Polly's attentions to church, or their schoolwork, or different teas to fill her interests. Tom gave him glances back, thankful but ultimately distracted.
After one of those dinners, three days before the wedding, Tom excused himself to his room. Aunt Polly couldn't be distracted by Sid anymore, and Tom's head was swimming with marriage facts and practices and clothes. They would go shopping tomorrow, Aunt Polly had said. Tom needed a good new dress coat, vest, boots... This was of no interest to him.
Tom walked up the creaking steps, exhausted. He never had any energy to do anything-the thought of going to the woods and escaping had started to encompass his mind, but he hardly had enough energy to keep up with his schoolwork and with Becky and with getting married, and so he was unable to find a relief.
He was trapped. But it didn't matter-it never did. Tom went to his room and closed the door and laid on his bed. He closed his eyes. He needed rest. It never helped make him happier, or more lively, or less helpless, but it gave him the closest to peace he could reach.
His door opened. Tom couldn't bring himself to look up, to say anything. Tom then heard Sid's small steps-Hopefully he would think Tom was sleeping and just leave. Tom didn't want to say anything to anyone; he just wanted rest.
"Tom." Sid said, walking closer. Tom stayed silent, hoping.
Sid exhaled sharply and took more steps in, leaving the door open.
He nudged Tom. Shook him. Tom kept his eyes closed a moment longer, feeling the softness in those worn sheets, feeling his own hot breath being pushed back into his face from the blanket. Tom wanted to be left alone. He wanted to think as much as he could-he felt he never got the time to do that. Never enough time.
But Sid was still standing there. Still looking at him, watching the unsteady rising and falling of Tom's body. Sid nudged him again. Tom opened his eyes, narrowed with tiredness and disdain.
It faded to silence. Sid looked around Tom's room.
Tom let him just stay there, not protesting at all to Sid's judgmental examinations. He was too tired, anyway.
"Tom, are you okay?" Sid asked. Tom couldn't say anything without a risk; his eyes already showed enough. He shrugged. Sid looked up at the ceiling with annoyance before looking back at Tom.
"Tom, I know how upset you've been. And Aunt Polly hasn't noticed yet, but I'll call her in right now if you don't tell me what's--"
"Sid."
"I swear, Tom." Sid watched him. Tom thinned his eyes to an almost-glare, waiting for him to leave. This wasn't helping-it was bringing up these feelings he couldn't handle. It was bringing up the sting in his eyes and the shake in his throat, and Sid couldn't see that. Tom was supposed to be getting his life together. No one could see this.
"I wouldn't want to ruin her picture-perfect image of your marriage." Sid watched him for a reaction again and got none. "Come on." Sid glanced around Tom's room, drawing in a long breath. Tom took the seconds to re-center himself. To remind himself that all this would be worth it, eventually, hopefully, maybe. He didn't know yet.
"Aunt Polly!" Sid turned away from Tom, shouting out to the house. Tom pushed himself up, across the old sheets, grabbing Sid, yanking him towards the bed and putting a hand over his mouth. Sid scrambled, too, pulling Tom's hand away, turning back towards him. They stared angrily at each other for a moment, breathing harshly, wanting to end this already. "Tom." Sid's voice was quiet and rageful and sharp. "We ain't ever gotten along. Okay? But what's going on? Ain't no one else saying anything, but I can see you've been weird, past few months." Sid said. He pulled himself up away from Tom, standing by the bed. Tom sat at the edge.
Tom could hear the creak of the stairs. Sid could, too-they both glanced out to the hallway past the door, seeing the shadow of Aunt Polly walking slowly up the old steps. They looked back at each other quickly.
"Sid," Tom said quietly, slowly, running a hand through his hair. "...Just let me deal with this."
"Are you still wanting to get married to her?" Sid asked quietly, hardly anything but air. It plunged deeply into Tom as all these things did-right to the cut of the pit in his stomach, right to the rising sting of his eyes.
Tom closed his eyes, shook his head slowly, shrugged tensely. "We'll find out, I guess." Tom sighed, looking at Sid, giving a small smile. Sid smiled in that same sad way, and then Aunt Polly was there at the doorway, having shuffled, wobbled, all the way up. They both looked at her, and Sid gave one last look, one last nod, at Tom before turning away. Sid gingerly put a hand on Aunt Polly's shoulder. Tom watched them for a moment, his mouth opening to form quick words.
"Sid," Tom said faster than the air came, and Sid glanced back. "Thanks for caring." Tom said softly. Thanks for noticing. Sid nodded and smiled and turned, pulling Aunt Polly away before she could question anything.
"Aunt Polly, I wanted to ask you a question," He led her away from Tom's door, leaning back and closing it quietly as they walked away. "What's the proper etiquette for family attendees at a wedding?" Sid asked, muffled, the sound pulling through the walls of the house.
Tom sighed out an exhale and fell back down to laying on the bed, thinking as best he could.