George walked through the room, greeting folks and asking how things were. He put his hand on Mikey’s shoulder and said to his date, “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met.”
Ned extended a firm hand, “I’m Ned. Mikey invited me and, I must say, this has been fantastic.”
He’s cute, dammit,George thought. Got the whole nerdy-bear thing going on.
“I’m so glad you could come. Mikey’s the absolute best.”
“And Fabio iswonderful,”said Ned. “He’s been entertaining us with stories of the old world.”
George could feel Mikey’s neck tense via his resting fingers. He gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Please stick around. After everyone is gone, I’ll be less busy and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
He continued moving, people reaching out for his attention.
“David would have been so proud...”
“The food was delicious...”
“You’re going to be so successful.”
When he reached Jack’s table in the back, he leaned down to Tommy. “How was that cheese bread?”
Tommy gave him a thumbs up. “And the ravioli, too. Just like Chef Boyardee’s.”
Demarco’s face fell into his palms.
George laughed. “That’s good to hear, Tommy. The Chef was a pretty high standard in my family too.”
“Thanks again for inviting us,” Jack said. “It’s been a wonderful evening. Sorry if I got you a little tipsy earlier.”
“I needed it. It’s been building for a while,” George said, and then to Demarco. “Thanks for bringing Andrew and Aaron. They were very complimentary.”
“Andrew’s a sweetie—always has been. Tell me, George... is that Mikey the mailman I saw you talking to?”
“Yes, that’s Mikey. You know him too?”
“We do. I hardly recognized him when I saw him go into the kitchen earlier... being out of uniform and all. Jack didn’t tell me you guys were dating.”
“Oh, we’re not. He’s with Ned over there. I’m with Fabio.”
“Oh,” said Demarco, bemused. “My mistake.”
George reached over to Demarco’s mother, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m George.”
The woman held out a small hand and George found it soft and warm. “I’m Abigail, young man. I’ve never had a casserole like that before, but it was delicious.”
“It’s Greek. Moussaka. Lamb, eggplant, béchamel...”
“Well, I didn’t know it was that fancy, and that’s probably a good thing, or I might not have eaten it. But it sure was good. So, thank you. And I loved the apple pie for dessert. Nice touch.”
George smiled. Rachel waved his way, and he waved back, noticing that May was still deep in conversation with her. He decided to leave the two of them alone and made his way back to the kitchen.
Before entering the door, he turned. “Everyone, thank you again for coming. I hope to see your faces light up this place often. Stay as long as you want. We have after-dinner cordials—ouzo, port, limoncello, Galliano—oh, and espresso, cappuccino, whatever you like. Theresa will be around to take your requests.”
Mikey signaled him before he turned, pointing to the empty seat at their table.
George went to him. “I’m coming. I promise. Let me get a few more of these folks out of here. I can’t abandon the crew just yet.”
