Suddenly, Shane and Amanda’s moment was interrupted by a loud voice coming over the DJ’s microphone a few feet away. “I’d like to make a toast,” Ben bellowed. Oh God. “I’m not really great with words. But I make up for it with my good looks,” he quickly added. The guests chuckled a bit, and Ben nervously continued. “My brother’ll probably kill me for telling this story.” He glanced over at Shane who seemed to be trying to figure out a way to murder him with his eyes. “So of course I’m gonna tell it.” Ben focused his attention back on the guests. “When we were growing up, we had this chain link fence that wrapped around our backyard. Maybe about three feet tall or something. Anyway, we used to climb it all the time so we could cut through our neighbors’ yards to get to different parts of the neighborhood faster. I usually had to help him get over it because I was so much bigger and stronger. That’s still true today,” he quickly added. “But one day when I wasn’t there, he tried to climb it by himself.”
I looked over at Shane, who was already red with embarrassment. Next to him, Amanda was grinning from ear to ear, waiting for Ben to continue. “I guess when he made it over the fence, his pants snagged on the top, flipping him upside down.” Ben hinged at the waist and made a goofy face to imitate Shane dangling from the fence. Shane’s mother was already laughing nearby. “And there he hung for almost six hours, screaming for someone to help him. Finally, our mom,” Ben pointed to her, “must’ve wondered where the hell he was. He was only six at the time. So she went outside to look for him.”
“I didn’t hear him screaming because I was doing the laundry all day,” she called out in an effort to defend herself.
“It’s okay, Mom, we all know you love me more,” Ben corrected her. “Anyway, by the time she got outside and found him, Shane’s face was beet red, his pants were so ripped that his superman underwear was showing, and his face was covered in dirt because the neighbor’s dog had taken a shit nearby and kicked mud on him.”
“Does this story have a point?” Shane asked, embarrassment plaguing his voice.
“Does this story have a point? You believe this guy? Of course it has a fuckin’ point. Why else would I tell it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Shane joked, “because most of your enjoyment comes from seeing me suffer.”
“Well, yeah, that’s definitely true,” Ben admitted. “So I guess this story really has two points then. The first time Shane stopped screaming was when he saw our mom finally coming to help him. She picked him up off the fence, carried him inside, gave him a bath, and put him to bed. My point is that he waited for what seemed like forever for the woman he loved to come along and make his world right side up again.” Ben turned to his right to face Shane and Amanda. “And Amanda did the same thing for him twenty-four years later.” Both Amanda and Shane smiled broadly at Ben. It had probably been the first time either of them had seen him this sentimental. “To someone I admire and respect,” Ben said, raising his glass and prompting the guests to do the same. “And to my douchebag of a little brother,” he said, smiling as he took a sip of his beer.
Shortly after Ben’s speech, Amanda’s mom followed suit, recounting a tale about when she’d pulled down their street to find Amanda and her friend trying to pass off bags of sand as cocaine to sell in front of the church on the corner. “Even in second grade, Amanda was a firecracker,” she said. “Now has anyone seen my shoes?” she asked, looking down at her bare feet on the dance floor. “I took them off when I got here, and I still haven’t found them. Oh yeah, to Shane and Amanda,” she quickly added as she threw back her champagne like a shot of tequila. There was a murmuring among the crowd, but they all followed Angela’s lead, raising their glasses and drinking to Amanda and Shane’s big day.
“What was that about?” Adam asked, practically doubled over with laughter. “That was a strange speech.”
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “I think she just wanted the microphone so she could ask where her shoes were. That story was funny as shit though. Who the hell sells fake drugs when they’re seven?” I hadn’t even anticipated that anyone would give a speech because Amanda had told me not to prepare one. But if Ben and Angela could deliver, I sure as shit could. “Wait!” I yelled from above. “I’d like to make a toast too.”
I hurried down the stairs, taking the few seconds I had on the way to decide what to say. Unfortunately, when I got to the microphone, I still had no fucking idea where to begin. “I didn’t prepare a speech either,” I said, “and I don’t think mine will be as good as Ben’s or Angela’s. By the way, Angela, I saw a pair of blue heels over by the salad bar.” The guests laughed, and I used the moment to catch my breath and compose my thoughts before continuing. “I don’t have any funny stories like they do . . . or at least any that can be shared with the general public,” I corrected myself. When people laughed again, I realized maybe I wasn’t doing as horribly as I'd anticipated. I made eye contact with Amanda, who mouthed an appreciative, “Thank you,” presumably because I’d decided to keep any embarrassing stories to myself.
I smiled sweetly at her. “I just want to say congratulations to the happy couple. Amanda and Shane are special people.” I already felt a tear working its way out of the corner of my eye, but I made no attempt to keep it there. “And they’re even more special together,” I added. “Their relationship is one that many of us can only hope to have one day. I was watching them dance earlier . . . like all of you were. And by the way, Shane, you’ve got some killer moves,” I said with a wink.