Chapter 4

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The cocktail hour was winding down, Emmett's minions, under the strict eyes of Emmett and Sean, were discreetly shifting and tidying up tables for dinner. The rolling bar was pushed back out of the way and yet still available to the guests. As per Sharon Brenner's request, special three-tiered platters were on each table filled with Emmett's canapés. Sarah Kingsley had one all to herself.

Place settings were set, water glasses filled and dainty elegant salads appeared at each setting. Molly had won a minor victory regarding the choice of dressing. Sharon had insisted on something fruity. Molly wanted something light and not too overpowering. So over a selection of crisp colorful greens, a light balsamic vinaigrette was drizzled.

"Fuck them all," Molly muttered to herself as she plastered an ear to ear smile on her face. "Fuck them all."

"What did you say, honey?" Owen, the new husband, asked his bride as he guided her towards the head table.

"Nothing, just admiring the table decor," Molly said sweetly. Owen was not quite convinced.

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The DJ was making himself comfortable in his corner. He had instructions to keep the music romantic and muted but not enough to put the guests to sleep during the dinner. After the first dance, Benny had liberty to play whatever he wanted as long as most of the selections included what Molly and Emmett had chosen. It was a selection of music that spanned several generations. They wanted everyone to find something familiar to dance to.

"Carl, why does that DJ look so familiar?" Debbie asked.

"That's Benny from the club. Emmett wanted to hire the best and Benny is one of the best."

"And Brian agreed?"

"Sweetheart, do you really think Brian could refuse Molly Taylor?" Debbie and Carl directed their gaze over to Brian. He was standing amidst Molly, Justin, Jennifer, and holding Bree. He was the tall brunette head among his blond Taylors. And apparently proud of it.

"Nope!" they both said at the same time, then dug into their salads.

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Brian and his Taylors, minus the bride, went to their table to begin dinner. Emmett had booster seats ready for the younger members of the guests and family. Brian smoothed out Briana's dress around her so she looked like a princess upon her throne.

"Thank you, Dada!" Bree said as Brian tied the large napkin around her to protect her dress.

"You are most welcome, Squirt."

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"Gus," JR leaned into her brother to whisper in his ear. "I think those girls over there are making goo goo eyes at you." Gus rolled his eyes but snuck a peek at the aforementioned young ladies.

Through the veil of his eyelashes, Gus could see some young debutantes giggling and looking at him. Gus groaned then snatched a piece of tomato off of JR's plate and popped it into his mouth.

"Hey, Lindz, I think Gus may have some admirers," Mel said smugly.

"He may not look at it that way," Lindsay replied.

"You really think our son inherited the gay gene?"

"Yes, I do. So please don't push him. He should make his own choices."

"Whatever you say, Lindsay."

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"He's cute," Diana said to her cousin, Marcy.

"Yes, but his mother is a dyke. Both his mothers are dykes," Marcy replied smugly and with the disdain she had learned from her parents.

"So, what difference does that make? People are just people."

"Oh really, well my father said that his mother faked evidence and made my father lose his case. You can't trust a dyke," Marcy spat.

"Maybe if your father hadn't cheated in the first place, he wouldn't have lost his case," Diana stated then took a sip of her soda. She shuffled her chair as far away from her cousin as she could.

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"Seth, where are you?" Jennifer slipped into the ladies room again to call her missing date for the night.

"Damn, I am so sorry. I got a flat. When I tried to fix it, the crowbar slipped and nicked my arm. I had to wait for the auto club to come fix my car and he suggested I get a tetanus shot. I'm still at the hospital. As soon as I'm seen, I'll go home and change then head on over. What have I missed?"

"The cocktail hour and we're about to have the salad and the main course." Jennifer was so disappointed.

"I promise to be there for the dessert," Seth said.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Jennifer, I am sorry. I'm not handling our first date very well, am I?"

"No worse than other dates I've had. You just get your arm taken care of and then get here."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye." Jennifer went back to her table.

"Where's Seth?" Justin asked his mother when she returned.

"Long story," Jennifer stated as she took a sip of water and ate her salad.

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"Looks like Jennifer has been stood up," Craig said to Susan.

"I hope not. Seth Harris seemed like a nice man."

"What do you know about him?"

"Not much, other than Jennifer handled the sale of his building to Emmett."

"Hmm, that's a prime piece of property. She must have made a nice commission on that one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Craig sneered then finished his salad.

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"Ma, why are we all sitting together on this side," Michael asked Debbie.

"Because sometimes the bride likes to group people who know one another together. I've been to weddings where they like to mix strangers together thinking that everyone will get to know each other. But that never works. I was bored out of my mind. I sat all night with some pompous old biddies who hated that I liked to have a glass of wine."

"Or two," Carl added.

"And that I like to dance," Debbie said.

"A lot. She organized the husbands into a conga line. Needless to say the ladies were not pleased."

"Well I can't help it if the men wanted to dance and the ladies didn't. Maybe if they loosened up a little, they wouldn't have looked so dour. I'm just so glad that my Carl likes to dance." Debbie smiled appreciatively at her husband.

"Anything for you, babe." Carl beamed back.

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"Drewsie, honey, I'm sorry I haven't been spending any time with you," Emmett said apologetically as he stood by their table.

"Emmett, I'm fine. Teddy and Allen are keeping me company. I know you must do what you have to do. But Babe, let Sean do his job. You have time to sit and eat your salad with us, don't you?" Drew pleaded with his partner.

Ted and Drew each took an arm to make Emmett sit. As Ted took a napkin and draped it across his friend's lap, Drew stuck the salad fork in Emmett's hand.

"Eat!" they both commanded. Emmett smiled contritely and began to eat.

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Bree was picking at her salad. Mostly she was pushing the greens around her plate. She had tasted one of them and found it bitter, not at all like the salads her daddy made her at home.

"What's the matter, Squirt?" Brian asked as he observed her actions.

"Don't like it," she told him.

"No? Is the dressing too strong?"

Bree shook her head. She kind of liked the dressing. "Tastes bad."

Brian studied the plate. Maybe it was the arugula or the dandelion leaves or some of the other strange greens that Emmett had come up with. Brian was quite enjoying his salad, but it wasn't the kind of thing that children would probably take to.

"How be we have a lesson in etiquette?" Brian asked her.

Justin snorted.

"What?" Brian demanded. "I know etiquette."

"I know you do, but mostly you choose not to use it."

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Brian asked. "Everything I say tonight, you tell me I only use it when it suits me. I can't possibly be as bad as you let on or why the fuck are you here with me."

Justin was immediately sorry. "Brian, I'm really, really sorry. I … I'm just in kind of a funny mood. I can't believe that Dad actually came to the wedding, and there he is over there staring at us. He hasn't run from the room with his hands over his eyes. And I'm getting nervous. Do you think he's plotting something, something to sabotage the reception?"

"Why would he do that?" Brian asked.

"I don't know, but I'm worried, so I pick on you."

Brian smiled. "I'm strong enough to handle it. Pick away."

Justin smiled back. "I'll try not to," he promised.

"Dada, tetiquette," Bree said, having waited patiently for her fathers to finish their discussion. It was something about Gampa, but she hadn't quite figured out what. She wasn't sure what sabbertawge was.

"Okay, Squirt," Brian said turning his attention to Bree. "If you get some food that you don't like, you don't want to make a scene about it, especially at such a lovely affair as this."

Justin snorted again, unable to control his reaction. He knew how much Brian detested these exact kinds of affairs.

Brian gave him a look before continuing. "What you do is take a very small taste of each of the things on your plate. For example, you might like this." He speared a small bit of bib lettuce and held it out to Bree.

"Do I have to?" Bree asked with a frown.

"No, but I thought you wanted to learn etiquette."

"I learn tetiquette," Bree declared, and pulled Brian's hand towards her mouth where she bit off the piece of lettuce. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Good!"

"See," Brian smiled. "There are often some parts of what tastes bad that can taste quite good."

"That sounds like a philosophy of life," Justin observed. He was thinking about the wedding. It was a great day for Molly but the bad part was still his father, and the uncertainty he brought with him to the reception.

"It is," Brian stated. "Try this, Bree, but just a tiny bit."

Bree took the small piece of arugula off Brian's fork. "Bad!" she declared.

"Then you remember what it looked like and you leave those pieces on your plate. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Dada." Bree picked up her own fork and started testing the other greens on her plate. She ate all the bib lettuce and most of the spinach. The arugula and dandelions and some other unidentified greens she left to the side of the plate. When she had done that she carefully set her fork down on the side of her salad plate just like her Daddy had done.

"Excellent, sweetheart," Jennifer said, having watched the whole production. She never ceased to be amazed at Brian Kinney the father. He had not only taught Bree a valuable lesson about eating in social situations, he had kept her occupied when she might have got cranky or whiny because she didn't like the food. He was pretty amazing. Her granddaughter had two very smart and caring parents. She felt tears well up at that realization.

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"Are you practicing your etiquette too?" Bobby asked Patrick, as his son picked through the greens on his salad plate and then carefully laid his fork down on the rim of the plate. He was copying what Brian had told Bree.

"Yes, Poppa," Patrick replied solemnly.

"You did very well," Brian told the boy. He was happy to have taught the little ones something valuable for later in life. John winked at Brian from across the table.

"Mom, he'll be here," Justin said, as he watched his mother look sadly at the empty chair beside her.

"I know," Jennifer sighed. "He's doing his best to get here."

"He won't let you down," Brian added, deciding that if Seth Harris didn't show up at the fucking reception, he would receive a rather unpleasant visit from Brian Kinney the next day. After all, Brian had orchestrated the whole dating fiasco for the two of them.

"I just wish I didn't have to sit beside this empty chair. I can feel Craig gloating from across the room," Jennifer said.

"Want me to move over there?" Justin asked.

"Of course not, sweetheart. I'm fine."

Everyone knew Jennifer was far from fine, but there was little they could do about it.

At that moment everyone began tapping their water glasses to get the bride and groom to stand up and kiss.

"Fuck!" Molly griped. "I was hoping they wouldn't do that."

"Don't you want to kiss me?" Owen asked.

"I love kissing you, but I like doing it when I want to do it, not when they order me to." Molly gestured at the assembled masses.

"Let's pretend we're on our honeymoon," Owen suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"You shouldn't say things like that without thinking about the possible repercussions," Molly warned as she stood up. She grabbed Owen's lapels and pulled him into a kiss that sizzled and went on and on, until they were both breathless. "Maybe that will keep them satisfied for a while," Molly said with a satisfied look on her face as she sat back down.

Owen looked stunned, and remained standing, until Molly pulled him back down into his chair. The waiters began removing the salad plates.

"It's all right, Owen. That was just a taste of things to come."

"I know," Owen said uncertainly. Maybe he didn't know Molly Taylor Brenner as well as he thought he did.

"Poppa," Patrick whispered to his father. "I hafta pee."

"Okay," Bobby acknowledged his son's predicament. He was in a similar situation. "John, Lil Red and I are going to the men's room. We'll be right back." John nodded. He was going to have to go soon too.

Waiters were floating about the room, meandering in and out of the guests, removing salad plates, refilling water glasses and placing carafes of a variety of wines on each table. Since Molly and Owen chose a Winter wedding, Emmett thought soup would be a nice next course. Working in pairs, the first waiter placed a soup dish on each place setting then the second waiter filled it from large tureens. Tortellini soup, garnished with fresh herbs and freshly grated Romano cheese.

"Mmm! Dada, I like this soup. Gamma Debbie makes this!" Bree exclaimed. She required no lessons in etiquette to enjoy this course. Brian readily agreed. This was comfort food for him.

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"Ma, this soup!"

"Why that sneaky little bugger," Debbie groused then laughed. "Well, that's one way of getting us to enjoy ourselves." The Liberty Avenue table laughed as they really enjoyed their soup.

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"Dad!" Patrick excitedly addressed his dad when he returned from the rest room. "You should check out the bathroom. There's a guy in there to give you towels and soap and cream and fancy smelly stuff! Smell me." Patrick craned his neck so John could take a whiff. Bobby had a mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh my! You smell very manly, Patrick," John commented, winking at his spouse.

"You really should check it out, John," Bobby said.

"Don't mind if I do. Excuse me all." John stood up to 'check' out the men's room.

As John strolled toward the men's room, Bree wanted to know what Patrick smelled like.

"Paaatwick, can I smell you?" Bree coyly batted her lashes at Patrick.

"Sure," Patrick said as he got down from his chair to go to Bree's side of the table. "Smell." Bree stuck her nose on Patrick's neck and took a big sniff. She promptly sneezed.

"Sorwwy, Patrick."

"Yeah, yeah. Yuck," Patrick grumbled, as he went back to his own seat to eat his soup, swiping at his neck.