“I guess this is your wedding reception,” announced Julie as a teenage girl placed a giant pizza on the table.
”The best one I’ve ever had,” replied Gina.
Chartan cleared his throat. “This is more than a reception. “
Gina gently poked Chartan in the side with her elbow. “Don’t get heavy on us, after all this is a pizza parlor.”
Chartan smiled to cover up his reaction: I guess I’ll be losing my identity in this journey to be a husband. It’s okay. I want to share life with Gina and that means …
“A toast,” blurted Brazil.
Chartan eyed his friend—he was smiling with Julie clutching his arm. Brazil and Julie had known each other for a few minutes but acted if they were in the midst of a budding relationship. Chartan clicked his glass with the others, but they were fuzzy to him, instead, he was thinking about how quickly Gina and he had gone from meeting at the restaurant to living together to marriage. Had it been six months? Maybe that is a long time these days?
“Chartan, are you day dreaming?” asked Gina.
He looked at his wife. “Of course, I am—I think it’s the beer.” She laughed. He looked across the table—Julie and Brazil were kissing.
My god, they’ll be married by the time we finish eating, thought Chartan.
Suddenly, Gina grabbed and kissed Chartan.
The teenage waitress, mouth agape, watched the foursome kissing in the afternoon.
“What’s up with them?” asked the cook, standing behind her.
“It’s a wedding reception,” she said.
“All of them, I think.”
To be continued next Sunday…