“Time passes,” said Carver’s father, Doug.
“Profound,” Conway said.
Something Carver found funny was that Chip and Conway, Doug’s favorite and second-favorite, seemed to lack patience with him these days. This started around the time Chip’s son was born, for no reason Carver could identify. He was perpetually out of the loop and had never discussed this with them, but he had kept up his loyal campaign of tepid obedience, which currently made him Doug’s most filial child. Carver nodded across the room to his father and said, “Dad.”
“Son,” Doug said, lifting his whiskey glass.
One of Chip’s children hurt the other in play and they both ran out of the room crying and shouting. Conway got up to go investigate, and Scott looked concerned. Everyone else ignored it, even Maggie. Those children were terrorists and they all knew it.
“Does anyone mind if we open this wine we bought?” Lillian said to break the silence. “It’s supposed to be pretty good.” She got up, looking at the crowd expectantly. They made noises of assent, and she went to the bar cart in the corner to rummage for an opener.
Scott looked at Carver as he said, “So, Lillian, how long you two been married?”
“Four years,” Lillian called over her shoulder. “Right?”
“Four and a half,” Carver said.
He could tell by the look on Scott’s bisexual face that he was impressed by the caliber of woman Carver had bagged. When they fought over Carver’s refusal to come out to California, Scott had snapped at him, “So you’re gonna find some poor woman to fake it with? You actually think you’re a good enough liar that people can’t tell exactly what you are?” Yet what did itreally matter what anyone thought they knew, if the faggot still brought home a ten? And when had Lillian ever needed anyone’s pity?
Conway returned, and they all started talking about the wedding. Nora wanted to know if anything odd happened at gay weddings which she should know about in advance. Doug assured her that the country club would not agree to host a wedding at which anything odd was expected to happen.
“I just want to be prepared, so I can make sure not to react,” Nora said in perfect WASP.
“They scissor at the end of the ceremony,” Conway said. Lillian let out a loud laugh at this.
“Connie,” Nora scolded half-heartedly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean, Mom?”
“I just don’t want to be culturally out of my depth.”
“Gay people are the same as straight people,” Conway said.
“I beg to differ,” Doug said. He was now double-fisting red wine and whiskey. This was the kind of thing he only seemed to do when Carver was sharing his air. “I think there’s a significant way in which they’renot. I think gay people would agree.”
“Letty says it’s gonna be a very low-key ceremony,” offered Priscilla. “I don’t know if she mentioned this, but she and Sana are actually already married, they eloped last week. So the ceremony is just for you all, and they mostly care about the reception.”
Nora and Doug looked at each other.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Doug said.
Nora made a noise of agreement. “If it’s for us, then why not have it at the Episcopal church?”
“Mom,” Conway said, laughing.
“I’m not saying that because I’m so religious, you know I’m not. I’m just saying — who wants to get married at a countryclub? Weddings used to take place at two separate locations, back in our day. Church, then reception hall.”
“It’s more expensive to do that,” Maggie said. “And weddings have gotten so fucking expensive.”
“Well, they’re getting help and a deal on the club from us,” Nora said. “And it’s not like our wedding was cheap, even back in the day.”
“No, we were paying that one off for a while,” Doug agreed.
“Why go into debt over it?” Lillian said. She was now perched on an ottoman near the unlit fireplace, and wasn’t looking at any of them but was admiring the buck head mounted on the wall over it. The golden retriever sat in a dog bed in front of the fireplace, and was looking up at Lillian, wagging its tail, but she didn’t take notice of him.
“We already had a hill of law school debt,” Doug said, shrugging. “We just threw it on top. It worked out eventually.”
“Is this a fifteen pointer, Doug?” Lillian said, indicating the buck.
