“Fine, help yourself to just one,” I say, opening the Tupperware. Anu has the patties labeled and divided into beef and chicken. I like them both and I can’t tell Aaron which one to pick. “Beef or chicken?” I ask, turning to him.
“Can I have one of each?” I frown at him.
“You have no idea how they taste, and no idea if you would like it, now you want one of each? How about we cut each one in half and, if you like it, you can have the whole? I don’t want you to waste it. My wife would be mad at me.” I stress the wordwife.
“She expected you to share is why she made you a dozen of each. So quit whining about waste and share the pastry.” How the fuck did he count it that fast? And he’s right; she probably thought I would share it. She should have known better that I’m not in the habit of sharing what’s mine.
“Fuck you, Aaron.”
“Right back at you, cuz,” he says, grabbing one of each before I can say more.
He takes a big bite of the chicken in his right hand. The crusty crumbs fall as he closes his eyes to savor the warm moist chicken filling.
“Damn, this is good,” he says, taking a bite of the beef quickly and I watch as his eyes widen. “Fuck, no wonder you didn’t want to share. This is some good stuff.”
I watch him take a bit of each, like he can’t decide which one to finish first, getting crumbs all over my desk as he eats fast, grabbing the other halves and finishing them.
“I know, asshole,” I retort. “Can you go away now and clean up your mess while you are at it?”
“Fuck no. I need one more of each, if you want me to leave,” he hastily responds.
“No way in hell is that happening.” I put the Tupperware away. I know my brothers will be happy when I show up at the corner with the pastries.
“Come on, man. I know you warned me but for real please, just one more” he pleads stressing the please.
“No, that’s why I warned you about tasting it.”
“It’s your wife’s fault for bringing something this good for just you. Where can I buy some?” His tone is unrelenting.
“No idea where you can find one; I can ask. But you are not getting any more of my share,” I firmly state.
“Just one, I don’t care which one,” he says, like I’ve agreed to bargain with him.
Noticing my stern face, he shrugs.
“I just might call my dad to let him know you got married and didn’t invite our side of the family. Imagine how well my parents will take that.” His tone is fierce with a game face, and I can tell he’s going to make that fucking call. Mother fucker is about to cause a family rift over my wife’s beef and chicken patties.
I can almost see his mom making a big deal of something that neither adds nor takes away from her. The only problem is my dad will not hear the last of it. Plus, it doesn’t help that my dad was at the wedding. My aunt will exhume all buried stuff just to make a point. She wouldn’t believe that it was a quick wedding. In her mind, everything is intentional.
“Take one of each, and take your skinny ass out of my office,” I snap at him.
“You are far too kind,” he mocks. “But just out of curiosity, why didn’t you invite us to your wedding?” he asks as I debate if I should just tell him. I figure it’s best I let him know.
“I proposed to her in New York and got married within twenty-four hours. Like I mentioned earlier, I didn’t give her any chance to think long and hard about it. My sisters were not there, just my dad and my friend, Adam.” I lie, if I mention Maggie he would overreact. “Her parents weren’t there either. So, now do you see why stirring up shit would be a bad idea?” He shrugs again.
“Well, if you had just shared the delicious pastry with me, we wouldn’t be analyzing who you did or didn’t invite to your quick wedding.” He raises his brow, like it should sink in that it was all my fault for him trying to stir up some bullshit. “By the way, did you knock her up? Is that the reason for the shotgun wedding?”
“Fuck you, Aaron! Shut the door behind you. I didn’t have a shotgun wedding. I just wanted to marry her the moment she said yes.” No way am I telling this guy, how badly I wanted to marry Anu, and how freaked out I was when she left town and didn’t answer my phone calls. No, he’s not hearing about her pregnancy either.
“So, she’s pregnant. And when should we be expecting to meet the new Wyler?”
“Out! Before I take my pastries back.”
“Fine! I’m leaving and, please, tell my new cousin-in law that I’ll be stopping for more of these delicious pastries.”
“That would be a no. Now, get the fuck out and keep your mouth shut about my wife.” I snap. He’s really hitting my last nerves.
“My lips are sealed, as long as you share the pastries.” I don’t say another word as I watch him close the door. But few seconds later, he pops his back in. “She wouldn’t, by any chance, be the woman Spencer wanted to go on a date with?”
