Page 63 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
Eugene gets it.
Elinor doesn’t.
And I don’t care.
“You’re exhausting.” Elinor sighs.
“Back atcha, girlfriend,” I say sarcastically.
“Whatever.” Elinor turns her full attention to her fiancé. “Romantic dinner for two tonight? Down by the water?” She does this weird nibbly thing to Gene’s earlobe, and I look away so I don’t involuntarily gag.
“Sounds great, baby.” He sounds surprised. “I’ll, uh, I’ll make us a reservation.”
“That’s my man,” she coos. “Love you, mah-boo-boo.”
“I love you too-too-too,” Eugene says in a goofy voice I don’t even recognize.
Forget gagging, I’m about to barf.
One more air-kiss and she’s off his lap and sauntering toward the exit, bringing an end to my torture.
“Have the day you deserve, Matt!” Elinor says over her shoulder.
There’s a moment of silence after she’s gone. This isn’t unusual. It’s that recurring moment when I want to scream, “Wake up, man! What the hell are you doing with this woman?”
But I’ve learned my lesson and opted for a more acceptable, “Well. You two seem to be getting along better these days.”
“Yeah…” Gene purses his lips. “I’m not exactly sure why she’s being so chill this week, but what the hell, I’ll take it!” He laughs, though I can’t help but notice he doesn’t sound all that happy.
I also don’t agree that she’s being all that chill. She’s being shmoopy. From what I’ve observed, she’s almost never shmoopy.
“How’s the wedding planning coming?” I ask.
Gene’s eyes widen. “You’re asking me about my wedding?”
“I’m attempting to be a good friend.” I sigh. “I mean, I am still your Best Man, right? Much to Elinor’s displeasure?”
“Of course you are.”
“Then I should keep myself abreast of the situation, shouldn’t I?”
“You incorporate the word ‘abreast’ into way too many of your sentences, you know.”
“I do know that, yes. Stop micromanaging my grammar.” I nudge him with my foot. “Come on. Gimme the scoop!”
Up until now, I’ve avoided the subject of Eugene getting married. Mostly because I had very little faith that he’d actually go through with it. But here we are, less than a month away from the big day, and it looks like I was wrong. For better or worse, he’s really going to marry this woman.
“Not much to tell,” Eugene says. “Everything’s pretty much done at this point. We’re keeping it small for this first one.”
“First one? You already planning a divorce?” I ask hopefully.
“No, you schmuck. My dad’s friend owns this amazing bar lounge overlooking Times Square.” His voice gets genuinely excited now. “It’s small, but he offered it to us for free, and we thought saying ‘I do’ up there would be a really special way to ring in the new year.”
“This dude is offering you a Times Square-facing venue on New Year's Eve for free?” I marvel.
“I know, right? He’s my dad’s war buddy. I guess if you save someone’s life, they’re pretty generous with you moving forward.”
Gene smiles. He always does when he talks about his father. He’s so proud of the man his dad is. I push away the ache in my chest when I think of my own dad. It doesn’t happen as often these days, but this time of year has a way of bringing back all the old feelings.
