“I’m out.”Bash throws his cards down on the table on Friday night. He’s the last of us gathered in his dining room to fold his hand.
We’re all here at Sebastian and Lenny’s brownstone in the city, while Len spends the night in her old bedroom at Dad’s with her best friend, Juliet. Amelia and Scarlet planned to stay with them for a while before they head home.
Lenny decided Bash wasn’t allowed to see her until she walks down the aisle tomorrow. So, she’s there, and we’re here.
Bash wanted low-key tonight. Poker, top-shelf liquor, and a small group. He’s not one to enjoy the spotlight, something we have in common. And with the group gathered here tonight, anywhere we went, we’d have been in the spotlight.
Ten of us are sitting around a mid-century modern dining table, while Bash’s dog, Butkus, snores in the corner of the room. An old-school playlist of songs you’d hear at the bar Lenny and Bash met at a few summers ago has been playing all night. I keep catching Bash quietly mouthing the words. It’s funny to see and is in direct contrast to the way his best friend, Murphy, sings the entire seven minutes of Billy Joel’s“Italian Restaurant,” at the top of his lungs. He’s gotten more words wrong than right.
It’s a good thing his sister is the singer in the family.
Aiden Murphy and Brady Ryan both drove up from Baltimore with their wives, and the three guys fall into old habits right away, reminding me of Jace when he was sixteen. It’s funny to watch Bash revert to his inner teenager. He’s always so damn serious.
Sawyer reaches out and gathers all the money in the center with an asshole grin plastered on his face. “Thanks, guys. I think you’ve just paid my rent for the month.” Fucker’s won the last three hands of Texas Hold’em.
Jace is drunk. He’s been chasing beer with shots of whiskey all night. Not my finest parenting moment, but the kid’s nineteen, and he lives in the hockey house on his college campus. No way he’s not drinking there too. At least here, he’s surrounded by us. And as he does another shot, I have a bad feeling about the state he’ll be in tomorrow.
When he slams his empty shot glass down on the table and demands another, Becks pushes back from the table. “I call ‘not it’ when Jack-off pukes later.”
Sawyer, Hudson, and I all simultaneously chime in, “Not it.” Guess we all revert back to our younger years when we’re together.
Everyone else laughs, but Hud points a finger at Bash. “You’re the newest family member. I think it’s a rite of passage.”
Bash scans the room, trying to gauge how serious we are.
He must not like what he sees. “Dude. I’m the groom. I need my beauty sleep.”
Murphy throws his head back and bellows out a deep laugh. “Aww... Pretty boy needs his beauty sleep. You’re not getting any prettier, man. Might as well hold little Kingston’s hair while his head’s buried in the toilet.”
“How about you do it and tell me all about it tomorrow?” Bash picks up a piece of pepperoni bread and throws it at Murphy’s face.
Murphy catches it midair and pops it into his mouth. “No thanks. I’ll be going home to my very pregnant, and therefore, very horny, wife tonight. And my head will be buried somewhere way, way better. Where’s your girl sleeping again? Oh, that’s right. Not in your bed.”
“Dude, that’s my sister.” Hudson’s lip curls up in disgust, and Jace gags. I think it’s a fake gag, but he’s a little green, so I’m not 100 percent sure about that.
Declan jumps to Murphy’s defense. “I hate to break it to you, but your sister’s three months pregnant. I’m pretty sure they’ve had sex.”
“Kinda like your dad and his mom. Right, Murphy?” Bash ducks his head when the food flies his way. This story circulates whenever you get these guys together. We’ve all heard about the time Murphy walked in on his mom bent over the table while Coach Sinclair plowed away with his pants around his knees. It was before anyone knew they were together. I can’t even fucking fathom how bad that had to be.
Hudson covers his face with his hands. “No talking about my sister and sex. Seriously fucking gross.”
“Sister jokes aren’t the same without Coop here, anyway.” Bash stands from the table and raises his beer in his hand. “To Cooper. The only single one left. Wish he could be here with us tomorrow.”
Brady, Murphy, and Declan all raise their glasses, followed by the rest of us.
Cooper Sinclair is Declan’s little brother and Brady’s wife, Natalie’s, twin brother. From what I’ve heard and seen through the years since his dad started coaching the Kings, he was the fourth musketeer for these three guys. He’s a Navy SEAL now. I heard he wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding.
Bash’s older brother, Sam, comes into the room with a box of Cuban cigars in his hand. “Anyone care to join me?”
Sebastian points toward the backyard. “Outside, Sam. If Lenny smells that shit in here, she’ll have my head.”
“Sounds like she’s already got you by the balls.” Jace smirks, thinking he got a good dig in. Poor drunk bastard.
“She does. You should see what she likes to do to them.” Bash sips his beer and watches Jace cringe. Again. I swear, he’s fallen on the ice too many times.
Becks grabs a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, and Sam and I follow him outside. The three of us sit around a blue-flame firepit as cigars are passed around.
I sink into the overstuffed outdoor sectional and kick my feet up on the edge of the firepit. Relaxed. Everything went smoothly today. Lenny’s rehearsal took less than thirty minutes, then she kicked us all out. My sisters are having a girl’s night while we’re here. Pajamas and a movie, they said. A flash of Daphne on the couch last weekend, laughing at Ghostbusters, crosses my mind. And for a moment, I wonder what Daphne would think of them if she actually had the opportunity to spend time with them.