“What the hell is this?”
Knight looked down at the plate that Paulie held out to him. On it was the remains of a pork chop, some mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables and…
“Parsley.”
“Parsley! I don’t have parsley in this pub!”
“It looked like i’ needed s’m color.”
“The colors are brown and white and – what’s this with the vegges? You grilled them?”
“F’r flavor.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Said one of the waitresses, “Paulie, he’s scared.”
“The hell – scared of what?”
The waitress giggled, “Getting married.”
Knight flushed red, the first time Paulie had ever seen him like that. The waitress put a hand on Paulie’s arm. “Leave him alone, Paulie.”
“I won’t have you wasting money on…on…parsley!” He bellowed as he was led away.
“‘kay.” He could use sliced scallions instead…
Kue came out from his hiding place near the door. “What was that all about?”
“Paulie don’ wan’ th’ place t’ be fancy, an’ t’ him parsley means it’s fancy.” Knight tossed the remnants of the dinner in the trash and tipped the plate into the dishwasher.
“Knight, honey, order up,” called Glyn at the window. Knight took the slip of paper and tacked it up above the grill, starting to make the two steak and cheese sandwiches, one with mayo, one with mustard.
“Knight?” called Glyn.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be scared.”
He snorted.
“I’ve been married twice now, and both times were a breeze.”
“Cuz y’r the bride.”
“The groom has it just as tough, what with the ring, and keeping a rein on the best man -”
“Don’ think I don’ have nightmares ’bout the ring.”
“Wear it.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t put it in your pocket, wear it.”
“What’f I can’t get it off?”
Glyn paused, then laughed. “Oh, Knight!” She walked away, back to her tables.
His mind was full of what if’s. What if some of Mal’s exes showed up? What if Mal didn’t like the trip he had planned for the honeymoon? What if something happened with the catering? Well, that wouldn’t be his fault, but still – canapes would be flying and it would be ugly.
Knight finished making the sandwiches, and placed them on the window sill, ringing the bell twice, which was Glyn’s call sign for the night.
What if, what if, what if…he was going to drive himself to drink over it if he kept thinking about it and worrying over it.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Mal would be sullen. But then, Knight would still be married. For the rest of his life, as far as he was concerned. Mal would get out of being sullen, and they would then live their lives together. And maybe, years later, they would laugh over the time someone spiked the punch, or when Knight couldn’t get the words of the vows out of his mouth, or that Scott was so tipsy on Manhattans that he messed up the toast.
“What’re you smiling about?” asked Glyn as she picked up the food.
“Wait,” he said, and tossed a sprig of parsley on the fries.