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“This guy…” Rich tosses down his beer and walks to the wet bar to make himself a drink. “We’re NFL champions. We make up our own rules, Terrance.”
Rich making up his own rules has landed him in his guesthouse, an act that’s becoming too common with him. His wife Monica expects this will be enough punishment for his philandering ways, yet she’s getting nowhere in getting her husband to understand the effect of his cheating. I love the guy but don’t know what else to say about it except that he should really spend some time thinking about how important family is to him so that he won't lose them behind an affair with his otherwomen. I want to talk with him later because tonight is meant to catch up as friends.
My cousin, Dilan, who has always been the life of the party, rounds the corner with a stack of dollar bills in his hand, yelling, “What’s up? What’s up?”
"What's up, man?" I say, standing to give him a hug.
Dilan looks around the room and shakes his head in disapproval. "Aunt Marjorie and Louise are here, so does that mean I won’t need these singles? Where's the strippers?"
Rich jumps in before I can respond. "That's what I said!"
I roll my eyes, knowing that this will be a long night. I grab Dilan a beer and explain that the pre-wedding fun he’s expecting will happen next month. He and Rich start chatting it up, talking about their bachelor’s party ideas.
As we watch ESPN, Eddie, Mark, and a few more guys from the team arrive. We laugh, eat, talk, catch up, eat some more, and eventually, all join in planning my bachelor’s party. The guys have different ideas for how I should celebrate my last night as a bachelor next month.
Mark wants to fly out to Vegas and have a secret weekend filled with paid escorts and something that sounds close to an orgy. Rich wants a mega stripper event where we rent out a venue and have every stripper on the West Coast fly in to do a twerking competition. Dilan is entranced by both ideas, but he’s the only one of the three that’s single.
"We could hit up a few bars," Terrance suggests.
“How original,” Rich barks.
"Well, what about renting a limo and going on a brewery tour?” Terrance asks.
“Uh, that could work,” Mark says. “If we were senior citizens.”
The room erupts in laughter.
Rich inserts, "I still say we at least hit up the strip club tonight to test a few ideas, and as Kobe would say, ‘The party’s just getting started. The strip club is where the fun starts.’”
“That is not what he said,” Eddie, who’s been quiet during all of the bachelor party negotiations, chimes in.
“Okay, how about we have a regular bachelor’s party at a hotel or something. If you guys want to hire a few strippers, fine. But I’m not touching them,” I say.
Dilan grins mischievously. "Why not do all three? We could make a night out of it—rent a limo, go on a brewery tour, and end the night at the strip club."
We all laugh at that idea, but as the night wears on and we become more and more intoxicated, it starts to sound like a great plan.
“Okay, I’ve let you talk me into having strippers at my party the night before I get married. If we do it at a club, we must buy the place out for privacy, and all phones must be taken.”
Rich looks at Mark. “Trust me man, we know how to make sure nothing gets out of the room.”
Sure he does.I roll my eyes away from Rich to Mark and Dilan. “And I can’t promise I will stay long because there’ll be only one woman I want shaking her ass on me.”
Eddie leans close to me and whispers, “Don’t let these fools talk you into getting divorced before the wedding.”
I chuckle. “I would never do that.”
After the bachelor party plans are solidified, we catch up since we’d last seen each other a few months ago. There’s talk of new endorsements, girlfriends, wives, football, vacations—it felt like no time had passed.
At the night's end, I thank everyone for coming with a little speech. I clink my glass down on the table and say, “Listen up, fellas. I just want to thank you all for being a part of my wedding day. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of guys tostand beside me on the field and in life.” I swell with gratitude. “Eddie, you have been a great big brother worthy of looking up to. Though I might not agree with all of your advice, I can honestly say you have always held my best interest. And the rest of you guys are like family to me—my bonus brothers. I’m so grateful for everything you do for me.”
Eddie claps me on the shoulder and looks me in the eye. His tone is heavy but gentle. “Love isn't enough to enter into a marriage. To make a marriage work, you’ll need trust, communication, and sacrifice.” He chokes up but continues, “You have to be ready to give up some of your individual wants and needs for the benefit of each other. You have to be willing to let nothing come between you." His gaze intensifies as he says, “And I know I have pressured you to do some things that go against this, but I only did it because I didn’t want you to ever feel the hurt of loss that I have felt.” He steels himself before adding, “I’m glad you found the strength within you to find your own way. It wasn’t fair to ask you to live out my trauma. You couldn’t live with the fear of what I lost.”
“We all suffered trauma. It was all of us,” I admit. He lost a wife, and I lost a big sister. Though it hit him the hardest, his pain was mine and mine was his. Death has a way of sucking everyone connected to a person in. No one who cares is spared from losing a piece of themselves during the loss.
“I hear you, brother, but you and Leslie deserve to face the world in your own way. Live for you and Leslie because you’re about to unite as one. Protect her with your life. Trust her and communicate with her. Everything else will work itself out,” he assures.
Every man in the room looks as if he is holding his breath. The conversation hangs heavy in the air.
