by Dave Barry
Mike and Marcia put on welcoming smiles and stepped forward to greet their guests. Manly handshakes and delicate air kisses were exchanged, followed by a flurry of How was your flight?s and So thrilled you could make its and Delighted to be heres. Standing at a discreet distance to either side, the Corliss and Clark security details eyeballed each other appraisingly. A team of bellmen, supervised by the Corliss chauffeur, was transferring the Corliss luggage to a cart. Wendell Corliss himself seemed to be in a good mood. Mike was also pleased; so far, things were going smoothly.
And then they heard it, a series of booms, like casinos being rhythmically imploded in the distance. Heads turned toward the source: a black Escalade pulling up to the hotel. The booms were in fact the bass line to a tune by the rap artist Dirt Nasty titled “Fuck Me I’m Famous,” a phrase repeated often in the lyrics, which came through loud and clear as the Escalade doors opened.
The first person to emerge, to the slack-jawed horror of the Clarks, was their future son-in-law, looking as though he had not slept, shaved or bathed since they saw him the night before, which in fact he had not. Next out was Cyndi in her very tight, very short dress, carrying a grocery bag and a large package of Huggies. Then came Rose and, with Seth’s help, Sid, in their matching tracksuits. Then came Big Steve; then Kevin, in his boxers; and finally Marty, still wearing only a shirt, but not in the manner a shirt was intended to be worn.
The Clarks and the Corlisses regarded the new arrivals with frozen faces. A bellman hefted the pink suitcases out of the Escalade and then a valet drove it away, the speakers still blasting Dirt Nasty.
Seth caught sight of the Clarks, did a double take. “Mike!” he said. “Marcia!”
The Corlisses’ heads swiveled toward their hosts, their eyes asking You KNOW these people?
“I don’t think you met my parents,” said Seth. “This is my mom, Rose, and my dad, Sid. Mom, Dad, these are Tina’s parents, Mike and Marcia.”
The two sets of parents approached each other warily. Mike extended his hand.
“Sid!” said Rose. “Don’t stand there like an idiot! Shake his hand!” She turned to the Clarks. “He’s tired from the trip, he can’t get comfortable on the plane. He has a hip condition, plus he has a sore on his leg that won’t heal. You see that stain? On his pants? That’s from the oozing. He’s in an experimental program for that, they pay all the medical expenses and give him this drug that’s supposed to help, but he still has the oozing. You wouldn’t believe how much I spend on laundry detergent. Sid, I said SHAKE HIS HAND!”
“My God,” said Marcia, quietly but audibly.
“So!” said Seth, herding his parents toward the door. “I’m sure Mom and Dad want to freshen up. We’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner! Really looking forward to it!”
“Why are you pushing?” said Rose.
“Who was that?” said Sid.
They disappeared into the hotel, followed by Cyndi, then the Groom Posse. Greta Corliss recoiled visibly as Marty walked past.
There were several seconds of utter silence.
“So,” said Wendell carefully, “he’s marrying your daughter?”
“Yes,” said Mike. “But he’s not usually . . . He usually doesn’t look like that.
“He’s really a fine young man,” said Mike.
“He is,” said Marcia.
“The one who wasn’t wearing pants,” said Greta. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” said Mike. “Not of ours, of course. He knew Seth in college. But he’s not really anybody. We don’t really know him.”
“At all,” said Marcia.
“And the woman carrying the . . . with the diapers?” said Greta.
“Nobody,” said Marcia.
“I see,” said Greta.
“It’s just the usual pre-wedding bachelor hijinks,” said Mike, smiling to indicate how comical it all was. Neither Greta nor Wendell smiled back.
“So!” said Marcia. “I’m sure you two want to freshen up after your trip.”
Greta and Wendell said they definitely wanted to freshen up.
13
Seth, having finally got his parents checked in, was back in the elevator, blissfully alone for the moment. His plan was to check on the situation in his suite, maybe grab a quiet nap, then head down to Primate Whatever—to retrieve his suitcase and the ring. He slumped against the wall, exhausted, closing his eyes and fantasizing, briefly, that when he got to his room everything would be all right and he could simply go to sleep.
This was not the case, of course. Wesley, remote in hand, was still overflowing the sofa in front of the flat-screen, surrounded by plates; apparently there had been more deliveries from room service. The bedroom—theoretically, Seth’s bedroom—was a combination hospital and nursery. Cyndi and LaDawne had put Huggies on the baby; LaDawne had it cradled in her arm and was feeding it formula from a bottle. Stephane, eyes wide with wonder, was sitting on the floor, watching SpongeBob SquarePants on TV.
Laurette, her dark skin in sharp contrast to the fluffy white Ritz bathrobe, was sitting up in bed, looking a little better than before but still very weak. When she saw Seth, she smiled and reached out her hand to him. He went over and hesitantly reached his own hand out; she took it in hers and spoke to him in Creole, her voice soft and raw from swallowing seawater.
“I think she’s thanking you again,” said Cyndi.
“You’re welcome,” said Seth to Laurette. He gently pulled his hand away and turned to LaDawne. “Did anybody call here?”
LaDawne nodded. “A man called, a Haitian man said you knew him from the beach.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said tell you no luck so far.”
Seth’s shoulders slumped.
“He’s still looking,” said LaDawne. “He’ll come over here later.”
“How much later?”
“He didn’t say.”
Seth rubbed his weary face with his weary hands. “This isn’t gonna work,” he said. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“So, you get married tomorrow.”
“But I can’t have . . .” Seth gestured toward Laurette. “I mean, I feel bad for her and everything, but she can’t stay here.”
“Really? You gonna kick her out? With two babies? In her condition? She can’t hardly stand up, you really gonna kick her out?”
Seth looked at Laurette, who was looking at him fearfully, picking up on his gestures, his tone. He made himself smile at her. “No,” he said. “I’m not gonna kick her out.”
“’Course you ain’t,” said LaDawne. “By the way, somebody else called.”
“Who?”
“Girl named Tina. With a attitude. Wanted to know who I was.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“Talking to me like that? I told her none of her damn business who I was.”
“Oh God. That’s my fiancée.”
“Well, she got a mouth on her.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“I don’t know. I hung up.”
“Oh God,” said Seth.
A minute later he was knocking on the door to Tina’s suite. It was opened by Meghan, wearing a bathrobe.
“Call me old-fashioned,” she said, “but I believe it’s traditional for the stripper to leave at some point before the actual wedding.”
“Listen, I can explain . . .”
“You don’t need to explain to me,” said Meghan, waving Seth into the suite. “I’m just the pothead younger sister.”
“Where is she?”
“On the balcony. Good luck.”
Seth walked through the suite, which was even bigger than his, and found Tina outside on a lounge chair, tanning in a white bikini, looking stunning as always.
“Babe, I’m sorry,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.
She accepted the kiss but did not return it. “I’m not insecure,” she said.
“I know that. You’re the most not insecure person I’ve ever met.
But this—”
“I was fine when I saw the stripper last night—”
“OK, she’s not really a—”
“Let me finish.”
“OK, sorry.”
“I was fine with the stripper you were with last night because it was your bachelor party and I knew she was just some tramp Kevin and Marty hired and you would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. Also she is nowhere near as hot as I am.”
“Of course not. But listen, she’s not even—”
“Let me finish. So even though you embarrassed yourself last night in front of me and my parents with the bimbo and the snake guy, I was OK with it because I understand guys get drunk and act like idiots for their bachelor party, and, above all, I trust you. OK, so that was last night. Now it’s today, the bachelor party is over and it’s the day of our rehearsal dinner. I call your room and a woman answers, apparently a different woman, definitely a rude woman, and she won’t tell me who she is and she hangs up on me. A woman in your room hangs up on me.”
“Tina, I can explain this.”
“Good. Because, as I say, I’m not an insecure person. But I really, really would like an explanation.”
“OK. There’s Haitians in my room.”
“Haitians!”
“Right. Three of them. A mother and two kids. One’s a baby.”
“And that’s who hung up on me? The Haitian mother?”
“No, that was LaDawne.”
“And LaDawne is?”
“A stripper. But I swear to God she didn’t strip. She was there when I got back last night because Marty hired her, which I told him not to. But she never took her clothes off. Thank God.”
“But she’s still in your room.”
“She’s taking care of the Haitians. With Cyndi.”
“Who’s Cyndi?”
“She’s the woman who was with the snake guy. But she’s not a stripper. She’s just helping out with the Haitians.”
“OK,” said Tina, “exactly why are there Haitians in your room?”
Seth quickly summarized what happened—his falling asleep on the beach, hearing the child’s cry. Tina sat up, hands over her mouth, when Seth told her about pulling the Haitians out of the ocean. When he was done, she said, “Ohmigod, Seth, why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
Seth explained about Laurette’s fear of the authorities. When he was done, Tina said, “I need to talk to Daddy about this.” She reached for her phone.
Seth put his hand on her arm. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I promised Laurette.”
“Laurette?”
“The Haitian woman. She’s terrified she’ll get sent back. I promised her I wouldn’t tell the police.”
“My father’s not the police. He knows a lot of people. He can fix things. He can help this woman.”
Seth thought about Laurette, the way she’d looked at him. He shook his head again. “Teen, I promised her. She trusts me. I know your father’s a powerful man, but the kind of people he knows are exactly the kind of people this woman’s afraid of. Listen, she has a sister here in Miami. A guy who works for the hotel, a Haitian guy, is looking for the sister. When he finds her, she can take Laurette and the kids and they’ll be gone. Let’s just let that happen, OK?”
It was Tina’s turn to shake her head. “Seth, this is our wedding weekend. We have family and guests here from all over the country. There’s a rehearsal dinner in a few hours. We’re getting married tomorrow. Tomorrow, Seth. We’ve been planning this wedding for the better part of a year. I think it’s great what you did for this woman and I’m happy to give her some money, or maybe we can pay this Haitian man to help her out. We can get her a lawyer . . .”
“She doesn’t want a lawyer. She doesn’t want to deal with anybody official. She just wants to find her sister.”
“OK, fine, but she can’t stay here, Seth, not during our wedding. She’s a distraction, and she’s also, to be honest, a legal risk. Technically, you’re harboring a criminal, Seth. She has to go.”
Seth stared at her for a few seconds. “Wait a minute. You’re worried that I’m breaking a law?”
“I’m just saying that, technically, that’s what you’re doing.”
“The way you were at the airport with Meghan’s weed in your suitcase?”
“That’s hardly the same thing. That’s an idiotic law.”
Seth thought about that, then said, “OK, remember the time we were going to the Giants–Redskins game?”
That stopped the conversation for a moment, Tina and Seth both remembering. It happened right after they got engaged. A friend had given Seth a pair of tickets to a Giants–Redskins game, great seats. Seth, a passionate, lifelong Giants fan who rarely got to see his team play live, was pumped. He and Tina were walking to the Metro, Seth in his vintage Lawrence Taylor jersey, exchanging some mostly good-natured smack with Redskins fans also heading for the game, when they came upon a protest demonstration at a bank branch that had an ATM lobby open Sundays.
There were about a dozen protesters, mostly youngish males, their attire traditional urban protest scruffy, in some cases accessorized with bandannas. They had signs and a bullhorn and were chanting slogans critical of this particular bank, which according to them was exploiting The People.
The protesters were blocking the entrance to the lobby, which did not make them popular with several local residents who wanted to get inside and use the ATMs. Particularly unhappy was a fiftyish woman, who, as Seth and Tina paused to watch, was trying to push her way past the line of protesters.
“Let me through!” she shouted. “You people have no right to block this door!”
“This bank has no right to exist,” said the bullhorn holder, speaking through the bullhorn despite the fact that the woman was perhaps eighteen inches away. “Do you know how this bank does business?”
“I don’t care! My money is in there and I want to take some out.”
“Let me explain something to you about the foreclosure practices of—”
“I don’t want you to explain anything to me! I want you to get out of my way so I can get my money!”
The woman lunged forward; the protesters closed ranks. It was getting ugly. A police car arrived and two officers emerged. This was when Seth said, “Let’s go, Tina,” and Tina replied, “Just a minute.”
The officers waded in, told the protesters they had to let the woman use the ATM. The protesters said no. The police told them they had to step aside or get arrested. Four of the protesters locked arms in front of the door; the rest whipped out cell phones and began recording video. The police got on their radios and called for more police. That was when Seth said, “Tina, we really have to go if we’re gonna make the game,” and Tina again replied, “Just a minute.”
Ten minutes later, she was on her way to jail. She’d gotten into it with the cops, and they’d told her to step aside and she’d told them they couldn’t tell her to step aside. She wound up getting arrested along with the Armlock Four, and Seth wound up going to the police station, where he waited uselessly until Tina, with the help of her father, was released. She got out fairly quickly, as these things go, but nowhere near quickly enough for Seth and Tina to make it to the Giants–Redskins game.
Outside the police station, Tina told Seth she was sorry but she hoped he understood why she had to do what she did. Seth told her that, to be totally honest, he did not understand. Tina explained that sometimes you have to stand up for what you believe in even if it was inconvenient, and she was not going to just walk away and let the police run roughshod over a bunch of people who were trying to make a difference by fighting against injustice. And Seth, who usually did not argue with Tina about issues, or really about anything, but who had just missed his first chance to see the Giants live in fifteen fucking years, said that it didn’t look to him like they were fighting injustice, that it looked to him more like they were a bunch of self-righteous punks with expensive ph
ones who claimed to care about regular people but were in fact keeping regular people from getting their own money out of an ATM. And Tina said, yes, maybe some people were temporarily inconvenienced, but the protesters were creating public awareness of a greater injustice. And Seth asked who, exactly, the protesters were creating this awareness in since the only people watching the protest were the police and the people trying to use the ATMs, all of whom clearly thought the protesters were assholes. And Tina, whose cheekbones at this point were deep red, said that was exactly the kind of cynical thinking that prevented anything from ever getting changed and if Seth truly felt that it was more important to go to some stupid football game than to stand up for what you believe in, even if it meant getting arrested, then maybe he would be happier being with somebody else because she, Tina, did not ever want to be the kind of person who would just walk away. And Seth, who was still trying to get used to the idea that a person as hot and smart and sought after and (usually) funny as Tina was willing to commit herself exclusively to a guy like him, elected at that point to back right down, telling Tina that he was sorry and that he respected her for standing up for her convictions and getting arrested. Tina asked if he really meant that, and he, not one hundred percent sincerely, said yes, and she said she really was sorry about making him miss the game, and he said, again not one hundred percent sincerely, that it was fine, and that night they had unbelievable sex.
Now, on the balcony of her suite, Tina said, “I remember that.”
“And remember what you told me outside the police station? About doing the right thing no matter what?”
A pause, then a soft “Yes.”
“OK. I’m just trying to do the right thing here.”
Tina nodded. “OK,” she said. “But you have to swear to me you’re not going to screw up the wedding.”
“Teen, I swear.”