CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
How long does it take to say I do?
I know he’s thinking the same thing from the other side of the aisle. I’m not sure marriage was the best idea, but at this point I guess it’s too late.
Though I suppose he could just never say I do.
There’s been days to second guess the decision…
Patrick and I got back from Berlin a couple of days ago. He still has his place here so going back and forth between here and Berlin has worked out nicely. Cass housesits/stays there when she’s off again with Mark, but they’ve been on-again for months now, so the place is like we left it when we were last here. It’s a much milder June than when we first met last year, though things between us have been even hotter.
The apartment is like an aphrodisiac; the first thing we have to do when we come in is ravish each other. We’d gotten that out of the way, then had to stick to the schedule: the rehearsal dinner, a night out, and in the morning there was the wedding.
The rehearsal dinner was at Pizza and Bubbles. The pizza was up to par, as usual, but this time there was real champagne. Rachel’s parents, who are practically my parents, where there. I tried to raise my concerns with them but they told me I worried for nothing. They’re great judges of character, I give them that, and they happen to love me and Patrick, but still.
Of course Rachel’s love does carry the most weight, and if she approves, that must surely mean something. That said, she’s pregnant and due any day now, so the hormones could be doing any number of things to her brain. Marriage is probably the best route considering the circumstances though, she loving Matthews and him having knocked her up and all.
During the rehearsal dinner Kevin was drunk on love and champagne and told everyone about how he’s been in love since they first met—and hooked up—during the on-boarding. He also talked about their on-again off-again relationship that went on for years.
Rachel had already told me before Patrick and I moved to Berlin last year—when she also confessed to throwing the phone at Mason—but her parents were shocked, as the Kevin and Martin timelines certainly overlapped; that said, they never liked Martin in the first place, and they constantly gush over Kevin.
Lots of truths came out with the bubbly, the most significant being that Kevin’s not as terrible a guy as I’d like to think. He loves Rachel genuinely and has proven stable since his exit from Guano, now working at Nellson, a global data and research company, and running a team of his own that seems to actually like him. He also gets along well with Patrick, both of them being into sports.
Rachel updated me about Guano North America, where she’s still head of HR. Seems there’s still lots of firings and job hopping, Weismann taking Mason’s job in Texas and a new woman taking the director role here in NYC. Weismann is sleeping with someone at the company, according to Rachel’s connection in San Antonio HR. Surprise.
My truths all involve confessions: that I probably did drink a bit too much and that I could have made some better choices. But hey, that’s life—sometimes you’ve got to make some bad choices to know and appreciate the good ones.
It was a good choice to take the job in Berlin; and a fortunate one for me that Patrick chose to come with me. He’s doing fine for himself there. It hasn’t been a full year and he’s already set up shop and is speaking German. His waiting list is a couple of months and he makes more than enough to keep the apartment in Queens and split half the costs in Berlin. We’re both pretty ok with finances nowadays.
Devante also spilled truths, but to me rather than Rachel. He’s happy for her but sad for himself. I think somewhere in the back of his mind she was his ace in the back pocket. They even had a mutual marriage pact that went into effect when they turned 30. It’s laughable but I saw something in Devante’s eyes that made me feel bad. That said, he was there with a new guy who stared daggers into me all night. I would have given him a conciliatory hug but would have probably ended up stabbed.
The night ended with Rachel’s dad talking my ear off. He’s a coach and is responsible for all the cliches and truisms that as I get older, I realize are true and make sense. He politely pushed that Patrick and I take the next step. He said he wanted to see me as happy as Rachel.
I told him I already was. It was something I realized the truth of as it came out.
He gave me a hug, told me he was happy for me and proud, and said I was like a son. After all the champagne it gave me a lump in my throat.
Patrick and I didn’t end up going out. I already saw everyone I was interested in seeing, and after a few glasses of champagne I was already tipsy. I tried to push Patrick to go out but he whispered something in my ear about being horny and wanting to be horizontal, so we stayed in.
We woke up this morning to Jay using his key again, at an inopportune time. It was early enough for us to shower and have breakfast at the diner, where Andreas dubbed us the International Lovers.
I’m glad I had a big breakfast, since Kevin is now stalling the ceremony.
Just say I do already! I think.
I can hear Patrick’s stomach grumbling from across the aisle. I’m praying that he doesn’t let one slip. He gets this way when he’s nervous and I’m pretty sure he’s got a bout of stage fright. Serves him right for agreeing to be one of Kevin’s groomsmen.
His stomach grumbles again. This time Rachel hears it and she’s a blushing bride, but for a different reason.
Finally, a spine is born: Kevin says, “I do.”
I see the relief on Patrick’s face as the reverend tells Kevin he may finally kiss the bride. The celebration turns into panic, though, as during the kiss Rachel’s water breaks.
Within minutes there’s a mad dash for the exit. Sure, there’s the rush to get Rachel off to the hospital, but there’s also the flee from the smell.
At the hospital I say hello to little Kevin and warn him of the guano world he’s been born into.
As we leave the hospital room and head down the hall Patrick pulls me into a closet.
In an attempt to get over my PDA issues, he’s taken to spontaneously pulling me off somewhere to make out. He has an eye for spotting hidden spots and closets now, and I think it’s become exhibitionist. Whatever it is, it’s hot.
“I love you,” he tells me between kisses in the closet. “Let’s make this permanent.”
His stomach grumbles and I know what’s next. I say “yes,” and make a mad dash out of the closet. He tries to follow me but I hold the door shut. “I love you,” I say from the other side.
Hopefully he won’t be nervous at our wedding.
~~~~~