Page 98 of Husband of the Year
“Marvin, you have a baby now.” Sheldon pats Greggie, who is doing his best to take in the whirling dervish that is Sheldon Soleskin.
“Having a baby doesn’t preclude us from leaving the house,” Olan says.
He’s on the stairs, freshly showered, wearing his favorite cream T-shirt and navy joggers. One sign of the warming spring days—Olan’s bare feet. When it’s not freezing outside, he enjoys going sockless, and there’s an undeniable allure to the extra flash of skin as he approaches us in the foyer.
“I told him that,” Theo says.
“He hasn’t even been here a week.” Sheldon rubs the back of his fingers on Greggie’s chubby cheek, eliciting a soft smile. “Next time you can come to us.”
Sheldon drops his assortment of boards and bags onto the dining room table, then starts unfolding, unpacking, and arranging what looks like a rather elaborate setup.
“Next time?” The words come out without thinking, and I cringe as soon as I say them.
“Marvin, planning a wedding this size is a marathon, not a sprint. The meeting we had with your mother was just the kick-off. The amuse-bouche.” Sheldon winks at Theo, and then assembles some sort of stand from one of the bags and places a large board on it.
There are photos and fabric swatches, more sticks and twigs, and a large seating chart. My head spins and I pull a dining room chair out from the table to sit. Olan moves behind me, the scent of freshly applied cherry ChapStick soothing me as he rests a hand on my shoulder.
“Here’s your seating chart.” Sheldon points to a diagram of tables and chairs. “You’ll notice it’s empty.” He taps the board with his finger. “The Ocean Inn provides tables, but we’ll need to discuss linens. Once you finalize the invite list, we can start working on seating. And speaking of, we need to order the invitations soon. Like yesterday. I have some samples here.” With a swift flip of the board, a fresh sight emerges—stationery of various hues and delicate tissue paper dance in the air, stirred by the gentle breeze caused by Sheldon’s movement.
“Do you want plain or printed vellum inserts? Printed are slightly more, but worth it in my opinion. It says ‘We care about the details. Also, we’re not cheap.’ Technically, this will be a destination wedding for some of your guests. We should probably include an information card with places to stay, eat, sightseeing spots, maybe arrange some tours.”
More flipping, this time a giant collage of photos is displayed.
“What about seating?” Sheldon points to a section with pictures of various chairs. “The venue only provides folding chairs.” He sticks his finger in his mouth and pretends to gag. “We’ll have to rent chairs. Totally worth the extra expense. But there are options.”
“Rent chairs?” I ask.
“Yes. I’ve got it all. You just pick which ones.” Sheldon motions to the choices. There’s at least five and they all look very similar to me.
“This seems like a lot,” Olan says.
“I told him that too,” Theo says. He’s unpacking his cooler, taking only a small corner of the table to display the plate of bagels, what looks like three different cream cheese options, and lox with all the fixings.
“Boys.” Sheldon pauses from his setup and turns toward us. “You’re inviting a hundred and fifty people to celebrate your union at a gorgeous seaside venue. We’re not tossing them bagels and cream cheese and calling it a day. No offense, baby.”
“None taken.” Theo makes himself a plate and my stomach grumbles, watching him pile lox on a bagel.
Olan sighs and I sense bubbling tension. My hand brushes Greggie’s hair. The complete softness of it on my fingers soothes me as a massive yawn appears on his cute face.
“Yes, Gregory,” Sheldon says. “Weddings aren’t for the faint of heart.”
“I think baby boy might be hinting at a nap,” Olan says. “I’ll take him.”
Olan lifts Greggie from the sling. His chunky arms attempt to grasp around Olan’s neck, but his fingers land near his mouth instead.
“I’ll come too. We’ll be back in two minutes,” I say.
“I’ll have all this”—Sheldon motions to his displays—“ready when you’re back.”
“Take your time,” Theo says between bites. Walter and Gonzo have taken a break from playing to sit at his feet, praying he drops something.
Upstairs in the nursery, Olan gently places Greggie in his crib and starts the mobile. The bright plinking of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” plays, filling the room, and Greggie waves at the brightly colored orange fox and blue owl that appear to dance above him.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. It’s just… overwhelming.”
“I’m fairly certain if you looked up overwhelming in the dictionary, there would be a photo of Sheldon wearing his Wedding Planner shirt.”
