Free A Lowcountry Wedding by Mary Alice Monroe

guess he was a minister.
    He and his friends met on the basketball team their freshman year and were inseparable for four years. Though Marcus and Atticus had gone off to graduate school, after graduation they’d returned to Atlanta to work. It was quietly understood that they’d all stay in Atlanta . . . stay in touch. On weekends they played pickup games of basketball. They stood up for each other’s weddings and funerals. Atticus couldn’t have gotten through his mother’s funeral were it not for them. If all that wasn’t enough to bind them for life, the car accident the fateful night of their college graduation was. They were blood brothers.
    The photographer did his duty and got the picture. Two of the bridesmaids, seeing the action, came running over, their high heels clicking on the wood floor.
    “Wait,” one called out, arm waving. “We want a picture with us in it.”
    They trotted up to the men, giggling and smoothing out their dresses, while the men gave them the once-over. The two women were young and sexy in their off-the-shoulder, silver-sequined gowns that reflected the light and accentuated their ample curves. Keisha, a sloe-eyed beauty, wiggled in beside Atticus, leaned her ample breasts against him, and pressed her cheek against his.
    “That’s the way,” Marcus teased him, chuckling low. “Real close now.”
    When the photo was done, Keisha turned in Atticus’s arms, her body close to his. “You’re Atticus Green, aren’t you?” she asked coyly.
    “That’s me.”
    “I heard about you.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah. I heard you’ve got the most beautiful eyes. And know what? It’s true.” She pressed closer. “I could look in your eyes till kingdom come.” Her intonation clearly indicated that she’d look at them at least until morning.
    “You like them blue eyes?” Beau teased her. “Them’s white-boy eyes. Look at mine, deep, dark chocolate. Not too sweet. African grade.” He laughed.
    Atticus smirked and said nothing. All his life his blue eyes had been the butt of jokes among the boys. And a magnet for the girls.
    “Hey, Atticus,” Marcus said. His arm remained around the other bridesmaid. “Mattie and I are going out after the wedding. Come with us.”
    “Oh, yes,” Keisha urged, wiggling closer.
    “Can’t,” Atticus replied. “Sorry.”
    “Why not?” Kwame asked, slapping his back. “Keisha wants to go out with you, don’t you, baby?”
    She nodded. “Sure do.”
    Beau complained, “Why aren’t you asking me to go out with you?”
    “ ’Cause you’re married, fool,” Marcus shot back. “Your wife’s home about to have your baby.”
    “So what? Don’t mean I can’t have a good time.” Beau laughed as Marcus slapped his back.
    “Not with me you can’t,” Keisha said in his face. “Come on, Atticus. We’ll have a good time.”
    “Wish I could, but I have a service first thing in the morning.”
    “All work and no play makes Atticus a dull boy,” Keisha said, twiddling with his collar.
    “I’m sure it does.” He gently removed her hands and kissed them before returning them to her. “Maybe another time.” He ignored the loud groans of disappointment from his friends.
    “But don’t you be forgetting me now.” Keisha slipped a piece of paper in his pocket, then patted it. “Call me,” she whispered in his ear before slowly disentangling herself and strolling off with her friend.
    “Are you crazy?” Beau asked him when they were out of earshot. “That was a sure thing. Back in college you never let an opportunity pass.”
    Atticus shrugged. “I’m not in college anymore.”
    “No. You’re a priest now,” Beau fired back. “Celibate.”
    The men laughed at his expense.
    “Not a priest.” Atticus gave them their laugh. “And not celibate. Just more choosy.”
    Marcus gave him a gentle punch. “Yeah, right.”
    “Hey, I get that,” Kwame said, wrapping both arms around Marcus and Atticus. “I knew when I found my