questions in his greetings, none of which requires a response.
âEverythingâs good.â
âGood to see you, William!â Jack gives him a push and a laugh.
âHi, Jack. Good to see you.â William is a little starstruck. Weâre the customers, the Chappy guys have to entertain us, but Jack is a sort of legend. No one goes at it harder, and William and hisfriends have been repeating Jack Wilson stories for the last few years to the point theyâve created a demigod for themselves.
âCocktails on the table, boys.â Jack turns to the bar, where six more vodka sodas are already poured. Two to me, two to William, and one more each to Jack and Woody so there isnât a free hand among us. âMichael!â Jack calls to the headwaiter and they exchange nods and we walk to our table in back.
We drop into our seats, go to work on our drinks, and survey the restaurant. For an old New York restaurant known for its steak, this place always has pretty girls, and usually a few doubtful ladies loitering by the bar. âWilliam, I hear youâre engaged.â Jack shakes his head. âYou stupid bastard.â
âYeah, I guess it was time.â
âTime for what?â
âTime to get married. She was ready and Iâm okay with it. I caved on this one. Sheâs talking about kids, but Iâm not caving on that.â
âNo? Never?â
âNo way. Never.â Williamâs emphatic.
âSo, you just decided to screw the same woman for the rest of your life?â
The table is quiet for a moment, appreciating the question. Jack has a point. âWell, I just didnât want anyone else screwing her.â
âHer little sister is just as hot,â Woody says. âWhen are you setting me up?â
âNot a chance. I have enough to deal with right now.â Apparently William isnât completely devoid of common sense.
âYeah, whatâs up?â I ask. I know it isnât anything from the office monopolizing his time.
âWedding planning. Iâm getting pulled into more of it than I thought I would.â
âWhat kind of stuff?â asks Woody, inquiring about a foreign land.
âYou canât imagine how much. The place, the menu, the invitations, the kind of silverware, napkins, and chairs, the centerpieces, even the kind of doily under the drinks. Thatâs just part of it. Thereâs transportation and hotels, photographer, videographer, flowers, minister. All I want to do is the band.â
âAre you guys planning this yourselves?â
âNo, we have a guy. Flaming guy. We still need to see stuff and make all the decisions. Every time I show a hint that I donât care about something, she gets pissed.â
âLet me give you some advice, William,â I say. âDonât tell her it doesnât matter to you. They donât care what your opinion is. Only that you have an opinion. Just pick something, then get out of bounds. Sheâll probably pick something else, but sheâll appreciate that you offer an opinion.â I donât totally believe this, but I do about fifty percent of the time, and itâs safe advice.
âSpoken like the only married man at the table,â laughs Jack.
âOnly six years, but Iâve learned some survival techniques.â And I realize they were just that. Julia and I have been only surviving.
âWilliam, you should listen to your boss. A wise man.â Jack makes a toasting motion with his glass. âDid you act like a gentleman? Did you ask her fatherâs permission to marry her?â
Woody rocks back in his chair, laughing with a hand over his mouth. âWilliam, tell the story. You have to.â Apparently Woody has heard the story already and itâs a good one.
âI did ask.â William looks at the center of the table, smiling. âIâm going to need a bump before I tell this one. Anyone have a white
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