It was fun, though, and I’m not bitter about it because the relationship brought me my greatest joy in life: my daughter, Zora. Of course, the divorce cost me a fortune in alimony, but had I not married Renee, Zora wouldn’t exist. My beautiful, talented, intelligent, kind daughter who looks just like me hardly seems to even remember her mother at this point. It was tough as a single parent, but I like to think that Zora’s turned out just fine. My daughter’s got lots of friends, a good job, and a love for gardening and crafts. She’s well-rounded and seems energetic and happy.
Her husband is nice, too. I like Tim because I know he’d never hurt my daughter. They’ve been together since high school, and he’s always treated her very well and acted like a gentleman. Of course, my new son-in-law has two left feet and can come across like an eager puppy sometimes, but he makes her laugh, and they want the same things in life. It’s clear that my daughter’s making a much smarter choice than I did when it comes to selecting a life partner.
As Lisa finishes her speech with a hiccup and tears in her eyes, I applaud with the rest of the room, and then, the best man stands to speak. I sigh internally although a smile remains plastered on my face. Tim’s brother Jack is nice enough, but his stories are mostly only funny to their family.
Fortunately, the speech ends after a few minutes and waiters begin to bring out plates of food, much to everyone’s relief. Tableware begins to clink and folks are already tearing into their salads like it’s their last meal on Earth.
Meanwhile, I find my thoughts drifting back to the girl whose eyes I met earlier. She’s gorgeous with a curvy figure, brown curls, and a sweet smile. Is she one of Zora’s friends? She’s young, definitely, judging from the way her breasts bounced naturally, and the slimness of her waist not to mention the bloom of youth on her cheeks. It doesn’t matter if you have the best plastic surgeon in the world. Doctors can’t replicate what’s natural and God-given, no matter their skill with the scalpel
But then I grimace internally and turn to chat with the old lady sitting on my right. I shouldn’t be thinking like this because the mystery girl is Zora’s age, which means that she’s likely more than two decades younger than me. Shit, I’m such a dirty old man, and force myself to laugh at whatever Mrs. Snood is saying.
But as the conversation continues, suddenly a voice pierces the air. It’s from the other side of the ballroom, and a momentary hush descends as everyone turns to look in that direction. The voice belongs to a handsome young man, who’s suddenly leaped up from his chair.
“My chicken is cold!” he curses at a nearby waiter, who’s standing frozen in shock. “If you’re going to seat us right next to the damn kitchen, shouldn’t my food at least be hot?”
To my chagrin, the beautiful mystery woman appears to be his date because she’s pulling at his hand and there are tears in her eyes. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I can see her mouth moving, and it looks like she’s pleading with him to sit back down and not make a scene.
Poor thing. The gorgeous woman looks absolutely mortified as she shoots apologetic looks around the ballroom. Her eyes are shining with tears, and her bosom heaves with shallow breaths.
Meanwhile, a member of the hotel management appears out of nowhere.
“Sir, if you sit back down, I can send your meal back to the kitchen, but—”
“And make me wait another two hours for this shitty food?” he demands obtusely. He shoves free of his date’s grasp and his face goes mottled with rage. Then, to everyone’s horror, the young man reaches for a basket of breadsticks in the center of the table and throws it to the floor as hard as he can. Rolls bounce out harmlessly, and to be honest, the entire scene is a bit comical. What does he think he’s going to achieve by throwing around some breadsticks?
Nonetheless, a woman screams, some kids start crying, and the pretty girl gasps loudly in horror. Then, the young man storms out, leaving everyone staring in his wake. The pretty girl hesitates for a moment, still looking horrified, and then runs after him, her curvy body swaying.
As the silence breaks and people begin to murmur, I sit there stunned. Fortunately, my daughter looks fine. Zora merely resumes talking to her new mother-in-law, and I can see them laughing at the hilarity of the situation.
“I think maybe someone had a little too much champagne,” I remark to Mrs. Snood. “Will you excuse me? I’ll try to sort this out.”