Primo and I arrive first at the restaurant. Bayou, one of
our favorites, serves excellent New Orleans style food.
I worked with the chef to create a menu that would make
everyone – the lactose intolerant, the lactose fakers, the hemochromatosis, and
the whatevers – happy.
The booze issue. Lord have mercy, Sly and Doris could put us
in the poorhouse with their alcohol bill. We have to manage this.
“We have some guests who – like to drink,” I explained to
the owner. “How do we do it so everyone knows that they only get one drink on
us? We are bringing the wine, but I can see my in-laws running up a bar tab
higher than the dinner costs. Not to mention I don’t need them to get smashed.”
He laughed. “I promise your situation is not unique. We’ll
handle it. Our waiters know what to say.”
Two tables at the back of the restaurant are set
beautifully, with a small menu at each plate. At the top of the menu, it says,
“Primo and Goldie Rehearsal Dinner,” which is wrong.
Should I be a bridezilla? Throw a fit?
Nope. Not a big deal. Who cares? We are married and that is
all that matters. Perhaps they aren’t used to Friday afternoon weddings.
Me: Where is everyone going to sit?
Primo: My mom and dad will be upset if they can’t sit with
me. But this is our wedding. They have had me mostly to themselves since
Saturday. Let’s sit with your brother and sister.
Me: Let’s hope they get here before your mom and dad do.
Primo: I hope they get here soon.
Me: I don’t!
Primo: No. I mean – I didn’t even think about it before I
gave them the car keys, but they went back to the house to drink.
Me: Oh crap. Really? Your dad is going to be driving drunk?
Primo: I don’t think so. When I am with them and we go out
for dinner, he doesn’t drink as much as he usually does. I think this was more
for my mom.
Me: You mean he was trying to be nice to your mom? That’s a
switch.
Primo: I know.
My mom, Dr. J, Greg, and Jenny arrive.
Me: Mom, would you do me a huge favor? This would count as
your wedding present to me.
Not really. She already sent me a Kitchen Air mixer and I
have no intentions of returning it. This is wedding present number two.
Mom: Sure. What do you want?
Me: Would you sit at the table with Sly and Doris so I don’t
have to?
She raises her eyebrows. I have
not told her anything about the bad blood between Primo’s parents and me. I am
not a Reliable Narrator. I didn’t wanted to poison her against them before she
met them. Maybe I am wrong and Sly and Doris are right. Maybe they were right
to tell Primo not to marry and to threaten to boycott our wedding. Maybe I am a
golddigger.
Maybe my mom will see them in a different way. Maybe I am
the problem, not Sly and Doris . Maybe they are
really lovely people who are easy to get along with and I’m the one who has no
friends or relationships that I have sustained across decades, oceans, and
languages.
Hahahahaha! I just had to say that.
No.
I just hadn’t wanted to burden her with the knowledge that
she was going to have to spend several days in the same house with people who think
she and I are stupid because of our political and religious beliefs.
“OK,” she says. “Sure.” She takes Dr. J’s hand and moves to
the other table.
I grab my brother and sister. "Sit here," I say. "We've hardly had a chance to see you!" There. Now I am surrounded by people I like. I am throwing my mom, Dr. J, and Pastor Gail to the wolves of Sly and Doris, but they are taking one for the team.
I grab my brother and sister. "Sit here," I say. "We've hardly had a chance to see you!" There. Now I am surrounded by people I like. I am throwing my mom, Dr. J, and Pastor Gail to the wolves of Sly and Doris, but they are taking one for the team.
Besides, let Sly and Doris
prove me wrong about worrying about how they would behave in public. They were
insulted at the insinuation that they would be rude to Pastor Gail? Show me I
was wrong. I’d be happy to be wrong.
Not to be all bridezilla-y, but it is my wedding, in theory
and probably in reality because I am one and done, the only wedding I will ever
have. If you can’t sit with the people you want at your own wedding, when can
you?
Once everyone has arrived, the waiter offers everyone a drink.
He says something like, “The hosts are offering one complimentary cocktail
before dinner.” He makes it sound good but he also makes it clear that if anyone
wants more than one, they can get out their own wallets.
Sly and Doris order only the one drink each, which seems
like not a lot for them, but during dinner, there is a lot of wine being
consumed at the other table and it sure isn’t by my mom, Dr. J, or Pastor Gail.
No comments:
Post a Comment