Page 110 of Fathers of the Bride

“Stop making jokes,” he said. “I’m bereft. Oh my God, who is that?”

I followed his stare and saw that he’d picked out Lindsey Bickingham, who, with his band, was setting up behind the string quartet. I looked back at Lucas and said, “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean you’re going to leave my eighties band alone. I’ll give you their numberafterthe wedding.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lindsey Bickingham.”

“Oh my God. It would be like star-fucking without the annoyance of dealing with a celebrity.”

“That’s what I like about you, Lucas. You always look on the bright side.”

“Uh-huh,” Lucas said as he drifted off. I had the feeling he would not be honoring my request to leave Lindsey Bickingham alone.

Near the bar, I noticed a gaggle of Andy’s clients. Unfortunately, he wasn’t with them. At first glance, they looked as though they had nothing in common, but when you took a second look, a closer look, they all seemed just a bit desperate—and desperate to hide their desperation. They all wanted to be noticed but didn’t want anyone to notice how much they wanted to be noticed. There was nothing new about them. Not really.

Yes, they had apps and followers and TikTok videos. All of that gave the appearance of newness. But idealistic, talented and, yes, desperate young people had been coming to Hollywood for more than a century. They weren’t really that different from the kids who rushed out from the Midwest to make their mark in silent movies. And they weren’t that different from Andy and me. Which made me a bit sad and a lot nostalgic.

Pudge and Lissa had patched up their very slight differences and were now holding court with a thicket of women who all resembled them. Nearby, Bradley and Terry were doing the same thing with men who looked like them. I was wondering how they all managed to look so much—

When suddenly Jeffery was standing next to me, looking in the same direction. He said, “Straight white people. They all look the same to me. I can never tell them apart.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. Then I couldn’t resist saying, “Seriously, Raj?”

“You’ve been married forever. You have no idea what’s out there, do you?”

“I—” I started but of course he was right. Yes, I’d downloaded a few apps after Andy and I broke up. And that was enough to frighten me into many nights alone with a bottle of wine. I wished him luck and went onto other guests.

Finally, I found Andy, next to the bar. I probably should have looked there first.

“Is that Grey Goose and tonic?” I guessed. It had been his drink for most of the nineties.

“Just tonic. I thought I’d wait until after the service.”

“I’ve already had two chardonnays,” I admitted. Then I laughed awkwardly, like a teenager actually. I had so much to say.

“Andy, I’ve been thinking—”

Someone was pulling on my sleeve. I turned to see Evie Nicks standing next to me. She pulled me down and whispered in my ear. “The caterer won’t give us drinks.I can’t sing if don’t have drinks.”

I was very tempted to say that she should have thought of that before she arrived. Instead, I leaned over to the bartender and said, “Could you send drinks over to the band? Thank you.”

“Southern Comfort for me,” Evie said. “I’m in a Janice Joplin mood.”

I glanced at the bartender who nodded. He had it. Well, I’d said full bar and apparently Dermont listened. Evie was already at the bar snatching the bottle out of the bartender’s hand, so I turned back to Andy.

“Anyway, there are things… I want to say… I’m hoping…” And then I chickened out completely. “Andy, strangest thing. I ran into Suzie Langdon and she congratulated me on something that wasn’t my daughter’s wedding.”

“Did she? And she didn’t say what?”

“No. Are you up to something?”

“You know me, Sweetie, I’m always up to something.”

“Andrew Lane what have you done?”