“Stupid legacy,” Chris muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame it as much as possible before the ceremony. Usually, his legacy meant learning to deal with demons and saving innocents and always having a small part of his life that most people couldn’t know about. Today, however, his legacy was the reason he was wearing itchy clothes that he was afraid to move around in.
Plus, he wasn’t sure how normal it was to have himself and his brother referred to as the “legacy of their parents’ love.” It weirded him out a bit, but whenever he mentioned that to his mother, she shot him the standard look and waved him off.
So there he was. In his old room. Dressed in a tuxedo that was too small on him with an unmanageable piece of hair that would surely gain his mother’s ire (“Christopher, why couldn’t you cut your hair?”), Chris felt like a huge dork. He wasn’t tall and broad-shouldered like his brother. Suits and tuxedos didn’t fit Chris right, and he wondered if that was something that would ever change. Doubtful though, considering he was already twenty-two and finished with his growth spurts.
Chris glanced at himself in the mirror again, tilting his head to the side as if that would make his reflection seem more real to him, and maybe a little less…geeky. It didn’t. He rolled his eyes, played with the cummerbund (still unsure exactly what it was or why he needed it), and called out, “I look like an oversized monkey.”
A head peaked out from around the corner and Wyatt responded, “We can’t all look as debonair as I do dressed up.”
“It’s not bad enough that our parents are reaffirming their vows, or that they’re demanding our presence at the event, but now I’m donning a tie that’s choking the life out of me,” Chris commented. He pulled the bow tie free again and tossed it on his bed. It was then that he caught his brother’s weird expression and asked, “Okay, what’s with you?”
“You heard me. You look like Aunt Phoebe did when that euphoria spell of yours misfired and hit her,” Chris paused for a second and said, “You didn’t—”
“Magic is not the reason for this grin, buddy. Don’t accuse me of things just because you’re an unromantic grouch.”
“And you’re a romantic soul, huh? The guy who compared his feelings for his last girlfriend to NASCAR. Sure. Right,” Chris replied. He moved aside when Wyatt playfully swung at him and added, “You’re up to something.” Chris frowned and crossed his arms, “Wy, if you have some sort of surprise up your sleeves for the wedding renewal, I’m begging you to rethink it. If something goes wrong – and it always does – mom will freak out and we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“—And please note the ‘we’ in that sentence, as in she will hold me as responsible for whatever you do.”
“Chris, you really need to learn how to relax,” Wyatt replied. He plopped down on the bed, paying no attention to the wrinkles it created in his tuxedo.
“Relax? In this family? Or with you for an older brother?”
“Unless you’d prefer to have an ulcer by the time you’re twenty-three,” Wyatt said. He focused his eyes on the poster adorning the wall and said, “But to ease your mind a little, I have no plans, no tricks up my sleeves, no nothing. I’m simply in a good mood.”
Chris rolled his eyes, everything suddenly dawning on him. He sat down in his desk chair, turning it to face his brother, and asked, “What’s her name?”
Wyatt didn’t even attempt to deny that his sudden pleasantness was caused by a pretty girl. He sighed and answered, “Maggie.”
“And you’re totally in love with her?”
Wyatt’s head snapped up and he replied, “I know what you’re going to say – but she’s different. I’m different when I’m around her.”
“And she’s your date to the renewal ceremony?”
“Nah. Trying to explain the Wiccan rules or why our dead great-grandmother is not exactly dead at the moment – I tend to wait until the third date before scaring them with the truth.”
“You don’t even know what a third date is,” Chris replied with a laugh.
“We don’t all meet our true love when we’re seven-years-old, Chris,” Wyatt countered, his eyes falling on the photograph on Chris’ bureau from his high school graduation. It was one of Chris’ favorite pictures in the world, this moment between him and Lia when he realized that no matter how much else changed, how far apart their lives grew, they would always be together.
Chris smiled and said, “Yeah, I did get pretty lucky. Who could’ve predicted that my gangly bookworm of a best friend would grow up to be a gorgeous—”
“Don’t forget mentally unstable. I can’t think of any other reason a girl would fall madly in love with my baby brother,” Wyatt comment.
“I know. Is Lia coming to the ceremony?”
“Of course. She received her own invitation. Besides, she already knows everything anyhow.”
“You better pray that our wonderful family doesn’t plant any thoughts in her head, Chris.”
Chris choked on the air around him. He glanced at his brother and said, “They wouldn’t.”
“Girls and weddings. It does funny things to their brains, man. I bet even mom would be willing to sell off her precious little baby today,” Wyatt replied. He chuckled under his breath and said, “Will I get to be the best man?”
“Shut up! I’m not getting married. I’m twenty-two years old and...we...I...she...” Chris stumbled over his words, his face growing a crimson shade. He gulped down air and said, “Just shut up.”
“Whatever you say, bro.”
Chris glanced at the clock on his wall and said, “We better get going before the family freaks out and thinks we were attacked by demons.”
Wyatt tossed Chris his bowtie and, with the flick of Wyatt’s wrist, the bowtie fell into place in perfect order. He said, “Let’s roll.”