“Go Henny! Go Henny!” Kat shouts, and the crowd around Henn on the dance floor joins in on the chant, goading him on.
How much has Henn had to drink tonight? He’s always entertaining, but this right here is a gift from the comedy gods. I can’t tell if he’s trying to break dance or if he’s going into cardiac arrest; but either way, I’ll never forget the sight of him as long as I live.
I look up at the band as I dance with Kat. The horns players are swiveling in synch as they play. Two women in fringed dresses and go-go boots are shaking their asses and singing their hearts out at center stage. And the guitarist is totally laying it down. I don’t know who was responsible for finding this awesome band, whether it was Jonas or Sarah or Kat—but whoever it was, they deserve a medal. I’ve never had so much fun dancing in all my life. Even Jonas has been dancing all night long.
The band begins playing a new song—“Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars—what else would a wedding band play these days?—and Uncle William grabs Kat’s hand and steals her away from me, twirling her around.
Kat doesn’t know this, but during dinner, while Kat was chatting with Sarah, I pulled my uncle aside and told him the news about my impending fatherhood—and also about my nascent plan to ask Kat to marry me. It was the first time I’d told anyone my intention to make Kat my wife, having only formed the idea two hours earlier—and my uncle’s reaction was better than I could have imagined.
“Hallelujah! The Faradays are multiplying!” Uncle William exclaimed, hugging me enthusiastically and patting me on the back. “This is the second best day of my life.” And then he poured me a tall glass of fifty-year-old Scotch from the bottle he’d brought with him from New York—a bottle of Glenfarclas 1955, exactly like the one he’d given me for Kat’s dad—and we clinked glasses.
“You got yourself a knockout with that one,” Uncle William said, looking at Kat across the room. “She looks just like your mother.”
I swigged my Scotch rather than reply.
“And don’t you worry, Joshua,” Uncle William continued, taking a long sip of his pricey liquor. “I’ll make sure Kat’s dripping in diamonds for you every bit as much as Sarah was for Jonas today—you can be sure of that.” He winked and leaned into me like he was telling me something confidential. “Like Ialwayssay, we Faraday menalwayskeep our women dripping in diamonds.”
It was a truly bizarre statement, given that, one, I’d never heard Uncle William say a damned thing about women and/or diamonds before, and, two, I have no idea who “our women” would be in relation to “we Faraday men.” But, still, the fact that my uncle was so effusive about my news and immediately wanted to spoil my future bride every bit as much as he’d spoiled Sarah today sent electricity shooting through my every nerve ending.
“Fuck yeah, Uncle William,” I said, clinking his glass. “Cheers to that. That’s how we Faraday men keep our women—drippingin the biggest fucking diamonds the world has ever seen.”
“Fuck yeah,” Uncle William replied, making me laugh.
It was an unexpected (and supremely ridiculous) conversation, to say the least, and so fucking awesome, I’ll never forget it as long as I live. And now, on top of all that awesomeness, Uncle William’s dancing with Kat like a madman, laughing with her and throwing his hands up every time the singer in the band commands everyone to “hit their hallelujah.” Best night ever.
I look to my left on the dance floor, and there’s Jonas, sweating like a pig, smiling from ear to ear, dancing with Sarah like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Jonas dance before tonight—but if I have, I’ve certainly never seen him dance likethis. He’s the epitome of that old saying, “Dance like no one’s watching.”
Through the dancing bodies on the dance floor, I glimpse Kat’s parents at the back of the restaurant, sitting all alone at an otherwise empty table, and I realize now’s my chance to steal a private momentwith them. I glance over my shoulder at Kat, and she’s still happily cutting a rug with Uncle William, so I move quickly off the dance floor toward the back of the restaurant, taking a brief detour at my uncle’s table to pour two tall glasses of his rare Scotch.
“Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan,” I say, sauntering up to their table. “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”
“Thomas and Lou, remember?” Kat’s mom says warmly. “And,of course.”
Louise pats the chair next to her and I take a seat.
“I brought you a present, Thomas,” I say, putting one of the glasses of Scotch in front of him. “It’s a Glenfarclas 1955 from my uncle’s private collection. Fifty years old.”
“Oh my God,” Thomas says. “Really?”
“You want to try it, Lou?” I hold up the second glass to her.
Louise crinkles her nose. “No, thank you. I’m not a big Scotch drinker. I’ll just take a little sip of Thomas’.”
“How about some more champagne, then?”
Louise’s face lights up. “Ah, nowthatI’ll happily accept. We’re staying at the hotel across the street, so I’m really letting loose tonight.”
I flag down one of the roving waiters and grab Louise a flute of champagne and she takes a greedy sip.
“Okay, Thomas. Ready to have your taste buds ruined for any other Scotch?”
Thomas lifts his Scotch in reply and we both take sips at the same time.
“Oh my God,” Thomas says, his eyes bugging out.
“Amazing, right?” I say.
“Damn. That stuff should be illegal.”
