by Payne, C. D.
For any concerned parent who wants to know, I can report that Uma was wearing quite an attractive one tonight, although not for long.
OCTOBER
FRIDAY, October 14 – On the bus to Las Vegas. Sorry, blog readers, for skipping all these weeks. Sometimes life is just too hectic for rigorous introspection. Now, facing many hours of enforced idleness on a bouncing bus, I’ve brought along my $5 laptop. Amazingly, I also brought along darling Uma, who is sitting next to me and reading a book by some long-dead Russian. There’s a butterfly on the cover, but she says it isn’t about insects.
Frankly, I was flabbergasted when her father agreed to let her come along on this trip. Unaccountably, the guy really likes me. He always takes the time to chat when I’m visiting their house or manning the breath-mints kiosk at the Silver Sluice. Yeah, Uma got me a part-time job there–much to fat Marvin Tuelco’s annoyance.
The reason we’re going to Vegas is that I’ve been roped into being the best man at my brother Nick’s wedding. He probably wants me for the job since I’ve had so much professional experience at the Dixie Belle. You don’t want amateurs bungling the ring handoff when you’re paying top dollar to get shackled for life.
10:38 p.m. I quit the party early to come up to my bedroom to work on my speech. My brother informed me that I’ll be expected to propose a toast at the reception tomorrow. I have to do this despite the fact that I am legally too young to drink. That’s called getting the short end of both sticks.
Nick hosted a catered wedding-eve buffet dinner at his house tonight for the families and close friends. Great eats, although it was a bit nervous-making sitting on the sofa with Uma, Veeva, and Miren lined up beside me. The famous actor Trent Preston snapped a photo of us that could be captioned “Jake Twisp and His Many Conquests.” The girls are getting along fine so far. They’ve found a common ground in teasing me mercilessly.
This is the first time Veeva has met her new cousins. Seeing them side by side, I can now discern a family resemblance. I’d say the actor they most resemble is Meg Ryan. All three are quite taken with my nephew Tyler, although Veeva has the advantage of being parked all weekend on the same floor at the Normandie as my sister Joanie and her family. Miren and Nerea are staying here at Nick’s house with us. Uma has her own bedroom opposite mine. Fortunately, there are no land mines or barbed wire in the hallway and I’ve always had fairly acute night vision.
My brother said he thought about inviting our mother, but decided there was no reason to spoil everyone’s good time. She missed his first wedding too, so I expect she’s used to being snubbed. Needless to say, our dad will be missing the fun as well. Both will have to shape up drastically to be invited to any of my weddings.
Well, this isn’t getting my speech written. Damn, what do you say in a wedding toast? I suppose everyone expects some snickering allusions to the forthcoming wedding night. But can a nervous 15-year-old really carry that off?
SATURDAY, October 15 – My brother didn’t chicken out. He got married at 1:30 this afternoon to Ada Olson in the Art Deco chapel of the Normandie casino. Performing the service was the sharply uniformed “Captain” of the Normandie. He’s this very distinguished silver-haired gent, ramrod straight and dripping with gold braid, who normally functions as the maitre d’ in the Main Salon. Like my former employer Mr. Dugan, he has a mail-order minister’s degree, so everything was totally legit.
Then we all trooped up two decks to the private “Captain’s Salon” for the lavish reception and banquet. The Normandie management provided piles of shiny silver dollars on every table so the guests could feed the slot machines that lined one wall of the room. I put in a dollar, didn’t win, and pocketed the rest. Uma won $437–proving once again that it pays to hang out with us Twisps.
It’s a good thing Grandma made me take those wretched dancing lessons back in the seventh grade. Nick had sprung for a live (but not lively) band. I had to slow dance with countless females, including the bride, her mother from Connecticut, my own sister, and Violet Preston (Trent’s wife), who was grossly pregnant. As you’d expect, my competitive nephew Tyler danced circles around me all afternoon. He also had the most partners lining up for taxi service. If the sports thing doesn’t work out, he could have a great career as a gigolo.
Fortunately, the waiters at the open bar weren’t checking IDs. The champagne flowed like wine and quite a bit of it flowed into me. At last I’ve discovered something alcoholic that’s an improvement on the original grape juice.
While dancing with Veeva, she told me her mother got monumentally pissed when her husband filed for divorce and completely blames her daughter. To get back at Veeva, she suddenly got honest and informed her that Paul Saunders wasn’t her actual father. Nope, Mrs. Saunders claimed she was forced to resort to a sperm donor–some USC student at the time named Bruno Preston. We agreed that her “confession” was a vile maternal mind-fuck and completely bogus to boot. Young Bruno may have been whacking off for dollars, but anyone with eyes can see it was Veeva’s daddy who did the deed. The family resemblance is too strong for any doubt on that point.
Veeva also confided that she found out the lawyer Nick shot was her own Bible-banging grandfather in Ukiah. Jesus, my brother nearly killed his own ex-father-in-law. Well, at least he kept it in the family. Now Veeva’s worried her grandpa will keel over from shock on that gala future day when she announces her engagement to Tyler Twisp.
I also danced with Miren, who commented that Uma was extremely pretty and seemed very nice. Could be, but I’m still keeping Vrsula Herczegh as backup. Miren reported that Joe College only lasted another week after I left. While he was dusting the office trailer, Mrs. Patsatzis came in and caught him treasure hunting in one of her cash bags.
The Lurrietas will be on the road one more month, then head back to Bilbao for the winter. Miren’s promised to e-mail me regularly.
The main course was poached salmon with lobster sauce. While we ate, Nick talked a lot with Nerea and Miren about life in the circus. He said he’s thinking seriously about buying a trailer and going on the road with them next year. Ada smiled graciously at this news, but even I could sense she was thinking “over my very dead body.”
Glamorous Trent Preston gave by far the best speech. He said he was thrilled to be here at Nick’s wedding, since Nick had single-handedly engineered his first marriage and also had played a major role in his subsequent divorce. This drew a much bigger laugh than my lame toast, but then I’m not a suave movie star who makes $18 million per picture. The less said about my effort the better.
Then there was more music, more dancing, and more champagne. I remember a big wedding cake being rolled in and Nick juggling some more cutlery. No, Uma didn’t catch the bridal bouquet. It went to a surprised waitress in a low-cut sailor’s suit. Then things got a little hazy; I remember spending a good deal of time in the lavish nautical-theme restroom throwing up. It was either a nervous stomach from my traumatic toast, a gut-wrenching LSD flashback, or too much champagne.
SUNDAY, October 16 – On the bus to Winnemucca. Since my brother isn’t leaving on his honeymoon until tomorrow, Ada roped me into her dental chair this morning to deal with my dead tooth. I think it embarrassed her professionally to have such a trailer-trash smile in the family. She yanked it out, stuck in a fake one that’s a perfect match to my other choppers, and–while my jaw was numb–filled two cavities and cleaned out the excess gunk.
While she worked, she told me more about how she met my brother. She noticed him in the skydiving class because he was the only student who proved too chicken to jump out of the plane. She thought that was rather endearing and also indicated that he was a guy with both feet on the ground. She also was attracted by his excellent oral hygiene. The irony is that Nick was attending that class because his philosophy is “When life gets dull, try something new.”
Although Ada is a high-priced dental surgeon, she didn’t charge me one cent. Nor would she accept a tip. She did make me promise
on my sacred honor as her brother-in-law that I will floss faithfully from now on. I had to agree because by then the Novocain was wearing off, and she was still poking around with sharp instruments.
All in all, I’m glad Nick took my advice and married the dentist.
We had to clear out of Nick’s house by noon today because his real estate agent was preparing for an open house. My brother claims he’s selling his pad so he and Ada can get their own place, but Veeva speculates the sale was motivated by his bride’s refusal to live in the same house where Nick did the ugly with Reina. Could be, but I will always regard it as Ground Zero of my burgeoning sex life.
Nick took us all out to lunch, then came another round of hugs and sad farewells (plus the obligatory $100 hug payout from Nick). Damn, it’s tough suddenly having a family that you keep saying good-bye to. I’d like to hang around those guys some more, although I suppose that impulse wears off.
Uma says she had a good time and enjoyed meeting all those Twisps. She also thinks we should use some of our profits to buy a nice gift for the newlyweds. I suppose, but what could they possibly use that I don’t need more?
Traveling with Uma was great. I love her so much I can barely stand it. I suppose the odds aren’t very good that we’ll wind up together in the future. Uma thinks teen romances are just practice for the real thing when we get to be adults. Could be, except you do hear about people who marry their high-school sweethearts and live happily ever after.
Well, we’ll just have to see what happens.
Can’t write any more. I see the bus restroom is free now. Time to duck back there again to check out my great new smile.
See you all down the road!
[To be continued in the future Book 7: Son of Youth in Revolt: The Continued Twisp Journals]