Beautiful Beginning(11)
“It’s about time,” Henry said, cutting in front of them to walk toward me. Both fathers looked in our direction as Henry continued, “I was worried you two wouldn’t show up and I’d have to drag you naked from your hotel room.”
“That’s a horrifying image,” I said, hugging my brother. “And for the record, I’m having you banned from our floor.”
“Bennett,” my father said, hugging me next. “Frederick and I were just discussing the seating arrangements.”
“And what a disaster it will be if we split up Judith and Mary,” Frederick added, directing his words toward Chloe.
Chloe hugged my dad and then moved on to hers. “This isn’t going to win me any points with Susan,” she told my father, “but I have to agree with my dad here. Keep them together; we don’t want them taking over more real estate than necessary. There will be fewer casualties that way.”
With that settled, I pulled my dad to the side to give Chloe a moment alone with Frederick.
My mother had rented out the entire beachside restaurant, and I had to admit it was perfect. Tucked away in a quaint little neighborhood, meticulously maintained boxwoods lined the walk and flowering vines and greenery clung to every available surface. Now that the sun was starting to set, the huge outdoor seating area twinkled with strings of tiny lights. The tables were beginning to fill, and I realized I couldn’t identify half the people who were smiling in our direction.
“Who the hell are all these people?” I asked.
“Perhaps a little louder, son. Your great-grandmother might not have heard you,” he said. “And they’re family. Cousins, aunts . . . first nephews twice removed.” He furrowed his brow as he took in the line beginning to form at the open bar. “Actually, I’m not sure I even know. Those ones are already drinking, so they must be from your mother’s side of the family.” He tightened his grip on my shoulder. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Great. Everyone else here?”
“I think so,” Dad said. “Your uncles are out on the patio. I haven’t seen your cousins yet.”
I winced inwardly. My brother, Henry, and I spent the majority of our summers growing up with our two cousins, Brian and Chris. Brian was the oldest of the four Ryan boy cousins and a quiet, serious child, much like I had been. He and I had always been close. But Chris—or Bull as he insisted on being called—made me want to chew off my own limb to escape. My mom used to say that Chris only wanted to be like us, and preferred the nickname so he would be one of the B’s: Brian, Bennett, Bull. I always suspected this was bullshit. After all, Henry started with an H, and the personalized beer cozy Bull brought to parties, along with his unbuttoned shirt and gold chains nestled in a thicket of wild chest hair, suggested he was totally fine being his own person. Chris just liked the idea of being called Bull because he was an idiot.
“I’m sure Bull is excited to see you,” Dad said with a knowing smile.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said. “And I’m sure Lyle has remembered a couple of colorful navy stories he’ll pass along to you over dinner. Maybe the results of his last prostate exam?”
Dad nodded, eyes twinkling in restrained amusement as he waved to someone across the room. Dad’s eldest brother, Lyle—Bull’s father, go figure—seemed to have no filter for the inappropriate. Over the years I’d lost count of the number of stories Lyle had told about his adventures in the navy, disgusting bodily functions, how people in rural towns had “relations” with animals, and the various moles his wife had to have removed from her back. “Maybe I should suggest he offer one as a toast?”
Laughing I said, “I’ll give you one whole American dollar to suggest it, Dad.”