head, his sequins shine back at me like I’m watching a burlesque show.
“He’s the King, and we are in Vegas.”
“Okay, so again, why the Elvis costume?”
“Because I’ve always wanted to dress up as him, and seriously, I can’t do this in Brooklyn.” He shakes his head in disbelief as another waitress attempts to serve us a shot. “When I caught wind that you were planning it, I didn’t expect this.”
The response does not satisfy me, but hey, his prerogative, I guess. We make our way to the bar and sit on the stools waiting for the rest of the party to turn up. Over the next hour, four of Elijah’s college friends arrive as well as two of his cousins. He does the introductions, and they are a laid-back bunch, not as geeky as I expected, except for the one dressed up in some sci-fi costume. When the hell did this become a costume party? It isn’t long after that my father arrives.
“Andrew, I’m glad you could make it.”
Elijah shakes his hand as my dad eyes him up and down, amused by his attire.
“How could I miss my favorite son-in-law’s bachelor party?”
“I’m your only son-in-law.” Elijah chuckles.
My dad pats him on the back. The mutual admiration they have for each other is always evident, and in ways, I’m envious of the relationship they have because all I ever seem to do with my father is butt heads. I turn away, not wanting to be caught looking.
It’s been months since I have seen Dad. In true Andrew style, he hasn’t aged one bit. He looks to be in his forties, at best, even though he’s in his mid-fifties. His brown hair is still slicked back in the same style it has been for years, his emerald-colored eyes an exact match to mine. He turns my way with a slow and steady gait.
“Son, nice to see you.” He extends his hand, and I shake it like it’s a fucking business meeting.
“Dad, always a pleasure.”
“So, I hear the merger at Lexed was quite a success. Well done.”
“We are where we projected we’d be. Even better, actually.”
“Your dedication has paid off. Your sister tells me you’ve been spending quite a lot of time in New York.”
I’m certain he knows. Adriana tells my parents everything. She can’t keep a secret to save her life. Hence, why she’s their favorite. There’s no avoiding this. Watching him furtively, I can’t believe we are back to talking about this subject again. We never saw eye to eye about Charlotte, and as far as my father is concerned, I broke marriage vows, and that’s the crux of it.
“Just spit it out, Dad. What do you want to know?” I throw back whatever liquor is inside the glass in front of me, wiping my mouth as I finish. Turning to face him, I stare into his judgmental eyes. “That I saw Charlotte again? That she looks utterly amazing? That she’s successful and moved on?”
“I’m glad she’s doing well,” he mentions, calmly. “She always was a smart one.”
“Seriously, Dad, that’s all you’re going to say?”
“Lex, what would you like me to say?”
“I don’t know. That I should leave her alone? That I shouldn’t have started all this shit again?”
“You’re a grown man. What you do with your life is your decision.”
Laughter erupts inside my head. The hypocrisy, years later, from a man who controlled my life when I needed to make it out on my own. Now it’s my decision? How very parental of him.
“Funny, because that advice is nine years too late. Maybe if you let me make my own decisions back then, I wouldn’t be living this fucking nightmare right now.”
“Son, listen to me—”
His sentence is cut off as Rocky enters the room. “I’m here, motherfuckers!”
Rocky cowers as soon as he catches wind of my dad standing next to me.
“Oh, sorry, Mr. E.”
“Rocky, please, your language doesn’t offend me. Besides, it’s a bachelor party. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Shit,” he mouths with a grin. “Then let’s get this motherfucking party started.”
Rocky walks over to the sound system and cranks up some music, Sir Mix-A-Lot’s ‘Baby Got Back’ begins to play loudly. As the beats plays, Rocky makes himself designated bartender for the night.
We are in trouble.
“A toast to Elijah, Mr. Kama Sutra himself. Oh, shit, sorry, Mr. E!” Rocky blurts out realizing his Kama Sutra comment may not have gone down well with my dad.
“Please, call me Andrew.” He taps on his chest as the aftermath of the shot