Nick rolls his eyes at Dunc’s absurdity, and I get the distinct feeling that this is a natural routine for these two. He stands and offers his hand. “Hey, Ev, nice to meet you. I’m Nick. And you’ve clearly met Duncan.”
The bearded guy, the third in their trio, stands as well. “And I’m Gavin. Have a seat. What can I get you? We’re pretty well stocked out here, as far as beer goes.” He gestures to a cooler in the corner that is brimming with bottles. “And Dunc nabbed a deli tray and a few bags of chips, so we’re in decent shape. We ran out of mustard in an alarmingly short time span, though, so you might want to grab a sandwich while you can.”
“Thanks for the heads up.” I take stock of the cooler and notice that Elaine included my favorite beer. She’s the best, my sister. I grab a Chimay Gold and take the seat that’s been offered to me. It affords me a perfect view into the kitchen, and my parents are nowhere in sight, so I’ll save those hellos for later, which is no hardship.
“So, we were just discussing the bachelor party,” Dunc informs me, as he sets about piling deli meat onto a roll.
They all look at me expectantly, and for a split second, I’m not sure what to say. Sure, I’ve hosted bachelor parties before, but those have been lavish (and somewhat lascivious) guys’ weekends in Miami or Atlantic City. Hell, for Barrett’s, we flew to Monaco.
I’m not quite sure Monaco is in the budget. But I’m completely sure my sister would murder me if I hired a bunch of women to do lap dances. And honestly, Simon would probably blush like a teenager and bow out.
So, I opt for noncommittal. Always a good bet at the start of negotiations. “Sounds like fun. What do you guys typically do around here?”
“So, for mine, we were still in college,” Dunc volunteers. “And Simon was only 19, so we drank like fools at our place and ate pizza.”
That seems uncharacteristically tame, given the few stories I’ve heard about this crew.
“But no bachelor party is complete without strippers…” Nic says.
“So, Nic and I surprised Dunc with a striptease,” Gavin finishes. “We were gonna jump out of one of those cakes, but those things are expensive as hell, and we weren’t making much bank back then. So, we improvised and jumped out of a tower of empty pizza boxes.”
“The sentiment was lovely, but the execution was shit, if I’m being honest,” Dunc says. “So, we definitely don’t want a repeat of that.”
“Fuck you very much,” Nick says indignantly, stealing the rest of Dunc’s sandwich right off his plate and taking a huge bite. “Gav and I are flawless specimens of manhood. I rocked that G-string, and when Gav ripped his tank top off, I think we all got a little lightheaded.”
“For fucking sure. You’re beasts, the both of you. I’d never say otherwise. But the whole thing kind of lost its appeal when you slipped, knocked down all the boxes, and cut your head on the corner of the coffee table. You needed ten stitches!”
“Pepperoni and industrial grade parquet are a dangerous combination.” Nick nods solemnly and takes a pull of his beer before continuing, “It wasn’t the first or last time I went to the emergency room drunk and bare-assed, but it was memorable all the same.”
“Ten stitches?” I question.
“Yeah, that coffee table was a mistake from day one. It was this glass and brass monstrosity. I think it belonged to Simon’s aunt,” Gavin says.
“Yea. That thing was as lethal as it was ugly. And it’s true what they say. Head wounds bleed like a bitch,” Nick explains.
“Dude, you’re telling me. I had to scrub that floor forever,” Dunc grumbles.
“Oh, quit your bitchin.” Gavin rolls his eyes. “I’m the one who had to clean mouse shit for weeks and then trap those little fuckers humanely, because you guys couldn’t stand to hurt them.”
“Wait a minute. Mice? Jesus,” I interject.
“So, you know how I said they were empty pizza boxes? They were, mostly. They just weren’t clean. That never occurred to us. And we stockpiled those motherfuckers for three solid weeks. So, yeah… our apartment became a bit of a mouse paradise there for a while.”
“That’s it. I’m calling it. None of you are allowed anywhere near the planning of this shindig.”
“Okay, to be fair, that was almost six years ago. I think we’ve all learned a few things since then,” Nick protests.
“Have we, though?” This question comes from Gavin. “Pretty sure I got a call last week about you stripping down naked—”
“Dude, that doesn’t even count. Why was it even a big deal? I was in the nurses’ lounge, not where they do actual medical shit.”
I finish fixing my plate and settle back in my chair. Dunc passes me a cold beer, and I nod my thanks. “No question. You guys need to leave all the planning to me.”
“Fair enough,” Gav concedes.
“But will you take suggestions?” Dunc asks.
They toss around ideas, and I’m vaguely aware of the wordsbowling, weekend at the cabin,andpoker, but most of my attention is focused on the scene in front of me through the glass and in my sister’s kitchen. For a moment, I swear, the whole world stops. It’s her. It’s got to be her.
