Page 89 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“How can you be so calm?”
“Not sure this will work.”
“What will work?”
“Our plan.”
“What plan?”
“The one we don’t have yet.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, dude.”
“It’s not like we’ve got a lot of options. And all hinge on whether she decides to marry him. You can’t force her not to. My thought is you call her and hope she’ll talk to you.”
“No, that’s no good.”
“Why is that no good?”
“I don’t know. It seems impersonal or something.”
“Okay, you could interrupt the wedding right when the guy asks if anyone objects to the union.”
“Nah, that’s too Mrs. Robinson.”
“She’s not the one who interrupted the wedding. Dustin Hoffman did. And it was so he could steal Mrs. Robinson’s daughter.”
“You’re just proving my point, man.”
“That doesn’t prove your—”
“Focus, G. I need a plan that will work.”
He shrugs. “Go see her before the wedding then.”
“Go see her? In person?”
“How else will you stop her from marrying him?”
“Good point.”
“Eat breakfast first, because it’s almost ready and it’s the most important meal of the day. You don’t want to go on an empty stomach and get distracted.”
“Good point. Okay, the wedding starts at four o’clock, right?”
He laughs. “Right.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Yes.” He hands me a plate half-filled with some sort of omelet and potatoes.
“Dick.” I take a seat and start eating. “This is really good, G,” I say, my mouth only partially full.
He thrusts his chin in response and takes a seat across the table from me. His own plate is near overflowing with the largest omelet I’ve ever seen.
I start talking my thoughts aloud. “Okay, so I go see her in person.”
He nods.
