Page 130 of The New Place

“What’d’ya say, Pega-saurus. We’ve got a party to get to, don’t we?”

And with that, Abbot follows them down the sidewalk, off to his wedding.

27

ABBOT

Pat’s isn’t far. Nothing in Portland is, and Abbot knows these streets far better than the maze of Boston, so he finds a place to park quickly and locks his car, heading up the salted, slushy sidewalk on the edge of campus.

Liesl throws open the door of Pat’s cafe before he’s even halfway down the block. “We are going to have cake,” she yells toward him as if it were in question.

“Are we?” he asks, making sure the door shuts behind him. “What is all this?” Because the cafe is in the midst of being transformed, tables pushed to the side.

When Pat spots him, he sets down the stack of chairs he’s carrying and comes over to crush him in a hug. “I am so fucking happy,” Pat says and shakes him a little in his excitement. “I am officially official. I can marry anyone at any time. And I have Miss Liesl here, my chair-arranging assistant and cake consultant.”

“And you met my father?” Abbot guesses.

“Sure did. I’d heard so much. Just: wow, you know?”

Yes, Abbot does know. His father is standing in his long black coat, sternly looking around the room with its scuffed floor, worn bar, and the chalkboard on the wall with a drawing of a bottle of champagne, two rings looped around its neck. The specials still show through the drawing, the list not thoroughly erased, like a lingering ghost of what today intended to be before it took a sharp turn. Which was clam chowder, a salad with butternut squash, and a chicken bacon ranch grilled sandwich, and Abbot can guess what meal will be served tonight.

What would he and Ned have picked? He can’t even guess.

“Isn’t it great?” Pat hooks a thumb back toward the kitchen. “I got the creatives working on the decorations and also the cake.”

“Thank you,” Abbot says. “Really. You didn’t have to do this.”

“My man!” Pat laughs like Abbot’s joking. “You are making my every dream come true.”

Abbot gets slapped on the shoulder, and then Pat’s off again, half galloping toward the opening door with its jingle of bells. “There he is! The groom to be!” Pat yells.

Ned comes in, Peggy and his parents in tow, all of them laden with shopping bags.

“Just a few things,” Cheryl says, setting them on the bar. “Pat, we got the balloons like you asked.”

“People!” Pat yells toward the kitchen. “The balloons are here! Can we have all hands and mouths on balloon duty!”

“I’m doing them.” Peggy climbs onto a stool to start rifling through the bags.

“Balloon duty,” Ned whispers. “Pat.”

“I fucking love you.” Pat wraps Ned in a hug. He glances at Liesl and Peggy. “Freaking. Whatever. My beautiful little Ned, all grown up.”

“You are having too much fun with this,” Ned says, muffled in Pat’s grip.

“It’s your damn wedding day,” Pat says.

“I heard that,” Liesl says.

“Well, darn.” Pat grins at her. He’s so happy. All of them are, the swirl of Ned’s family and Pat, and Liesl and Peggy too.

And Ned is too, right?

“Ned?” Abbot asks, and Ned turns to him.

Abbot has no idea what he’d meant to say. Hello, but he just saw Ned moments ago, and before he can decide, Ned is pulled away.

“The two of you,” Chris says, holding onto Ned for a long time.