Weekend With The Best Man. Leah Martyn

her judgement about men. How did you work out which of them to trust and recognise those who were into game-playing? And right now, after the rotten morning they’d had, it was all too heavy to think about.

      * * *

      Leo’s was five minutes away from the hospital, the unpretentious little café drawing the hospital staff like bees to puffy blossoms. Chef Leo Carroll kept his menu simple. And he’d done his market research, opening at six in the morning to accommodate the early shift who just wanted a coffee and a bacon roll. Lunch began at noon and lasted until three. Then Leo closed his doors, cleaned up and went to play guitar at a blues bar in town.

      Dan settled into one of the comfortable side booths and stretched out his legs. Already he could feel the tension draining from him. Nathan’s continued support had steadied him in ways that were incalculable. Dan recalled the day he’d flown into Sydney from the States. He’d been standing feeling a bit bemused in the passenger lounge, getting his bearings, when he’d heard his name called. He’d spun round and found himself looking into a familiar craggy face lit with a lopsided grin.

      ‘Nate!’

      Before Dan could react further, he’d been thumped across the back and enveloped in a bone-crunching hug that had almost undone him. ‘Glad you made it back in one piece, dude,’ Nathan had said gruffly.

      Dan had swallowed. ‘How did you know I’d be on this flight?’

      ‘I have my ways.’ Nathan had tapped the side of his nose. ‘Now, come on, let’s move it. I’m short-term parked and it’s costing me a fortune.’

      Dan had booked into a boutique hotel near the harbour, intending to stay there until he could find an apartment. As they’d driven, Nathan had asked, ‘Do you have some work lined up?’

      ‘Starting at St Vincent’s in a week.’

      ‘Still in Casualty?’

      ‘It’s what I do best. You still in Medical?’

      ‘It’s what I do best.’ Nathan had shot him a glance. ‘Uh—not going to see your folks, then?’

      ‘Not yet.’ His family lived in Melbourne and while he loved and respected them, he just wasn’t up for receiving their sympathy all over again.

      A beat of silence.

      ‘I’ve met a girl.’ Nathan’s embarrassed laugh eased the fraught atmosphere.

      Dan spun his friend an amused look. ‘Serious?’

      ‘Could be. Think so. She’s a flight attendant. Samantha Kelly—Sami.’

      ‘Get out of here!’ Dan leaned across and fist-bumped his friend’s upper arm. ‘Tell me about her.’

      ‘She’s blonde.’

      ‘Yeah?’

      ‘Funny, sweet, smart...you know...’

      ‘Yeah. And she’s got you wrapped around her little finger. Nice one, mate. I hope it works out for you and Sami.’

      ‘Uh—if it doesn’t pan out for you in Sydney,’ Nathan said carefully, ‘you could come across the mountain to us at Hopeton District. Get some rural medicine under your belt. We’re always looking for decently qualified MOs.’

      ‘Mmm—maybe.’ Dan gave a dry smile. Nathan went on to enthuse about the vibrant country city a couple of hours from Sydney across the Blue Mountains.

      ‘And would you believe you can still fossick for gold around Hopeton?’ Nathan concluded his sales pitch emphatically.

      And six months later Dan had taken everything on board and made the move and now here they were, with Nathan’s and Sami’s wedding just a week away and he was Nathan’s best man.

      Dan looked at his watch just at the moment Nathan burst through the door.

      ‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he apologised, sliding his big frame onto the bench seat opposite. ‘Would you believe I’ve just had to cannulate three old coots on the trot—no veins to speak of, dehydrated as hell. Why don’t old people drink water, for God’s sake?’

      ‘Because it’s a generational thing,’ Dan said patiently. ‘They drink tea. Probably have done so since they could hold a cup.’ Dan turned his attention to the short menu. ‘We need to get a wriggle on. What are you having?’

      ‘If there’s pasta of some description, I’m your man.’

      ‘There is,’ Dan said. ‘And I’ll have the steak pie.’

      Leo was there in a flash to take their orders. ‘Won’t be long, Docs,’ he promised, batting his way back through the swing doors to his kitchen.

      Nathan sent a narrowed look at his friend. He was well aware of the significance of the day in Dan’s life. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked quietly.

      Dan’s mouth bunched into a tight moue. ‘Getting there, as they say.’

      Nathan wasn’t so sure and he knew his friend well enough to ask, ‘It’s got to be hard for Caroline as well. Have you tried contacting her again?’

      ‘What would be the point? She couldn’t wait to dump me and our marriage—such as it was.’

      ‘Yeah—well.’ Nathan decided it was time for some straight talking. ‘I don’t want to be brutal, but it was never going to work after the babies died, was it?’

      ‘Probably not.’ Dan frowned. ‘But she wasn’t even willing to try!’

      Nathan shook his head. They’d had this conversation before—or one similar. ‘Listen, Dan, I’ve known you for a thousand years. It’s in your DNA to be decent and, to use a very old-fashioned word, honourable. But you and Caroline weren’t in love and, believe me, that’s the only reason you should get married. And stay married. For your own sanity, you can’t keep second-guessing all the what-ifs.’

      Dan knew what Nathan said made sense and, God knew, he’d tried to let it go. His mouth gave a wry twist. ‘The last time I spoke to Caroline, she said she’d moved on.’

      ‘Then maybe it’s time you did as well,’ Nathan said frankly. ‘Hey!’ He injected an air of enthusiasm around them and beat a little drum roll on the table. ‘It’s Friday and Sami’s decided we need a night out. There’s a new club in town. Why don’t you join us?’

      Dan’s insides curled. He could think of nothing worse than tagging along with a completely loved-up pair like Nathan and Sami. ‘Thanks, mate, but I’ll be fine. You and your bride-to-be have better things to do—or you should have.’

      ‘Speaking of brides...’ Nathan picked up the pepper mill and spun it between his hands. ‘Sami wants us to wear cummerbunds.’

      Dan snorted. ‘I’d rather shove my head in a bucket of prawns.’ He took a mouthful of water, very carefully replacing the glass on its coaster. ‘I’d probably walk through fire to save your butt, Nathan, but I am not wearing a cummerbund at your wedding.’

      Nathan gave a bark of laughter and confided, ‘Sami reckons it’s modern vintage.’

      Dan looked unimpressed. ‘Tell her the menswear shop in Hopeton have never heard of cummerbunds, let alone stocked them.’

      ‘She said she’d order them online—but don’t panic.’ Nathan held up a hand in a staying motion, deciding to let his friend off the hook. ‘I’ve talked her out of it.’

      ‘How?’ Dan’s interest picked up. From what he’d seen, Sami was one determined lady. In the nicest possible way, of course.

      ‘I had a mental picture of us with bulging satin waistlines and fell about laughing. Sami wasn’t amused. She wrestled me to the sofa and belted me with her slipper. Then she saw the funny side and laughed too.’

      And then they’d