It was full of a fizzy champagne-tinted liquid and had a long glass swizzle stick in it.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Sherry Spritzers,” she said. “Light and breezy and damn good.”
She squeezed several lemon and orange wedges into the pitcher as he stirred, and then tossed them into the mix. She filled two tall highball glasses with ice, put it all on a tray and carried it into the living room. She placed it on the table in front of the sofa and they sat down. She poured their drinks.
“Another toast!” Hannah said, holding up her glass. “To my handsome, new son-in-law. Or stepson-in-law, or something like that. I’m so happy for Ella. And proud to have you in the family.”
They tapped glasses and drank.
“You’re right,” Max said. “This stuff is good.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from, Honey, so enjoy. Let’s celebrate.”
They didn’t say anything for a minute and listened to a smoky tenor solo on ‘Cry Me A River’.
“Thank you for saying that,” Max said.
“What?”
“That you’re proud to have me in the family.”
“Aw, Honey,” Hannah said, and put her drink on the table. She scooted a bit closer, put her arms around him and hugged him. He hugged her back, too, smelled her hair and felt her breasts press against his chest.
“You don’t have to thank me, Max,” she continued. “You’re a good man, and just right for Ella. The first night I met you, I knew.”
“Knew what?”
Hannah picked up her glass, took a swig and put it back down on the table.
“I knew you were the one. And I told Ella that. I told her it was okay to marry you. Not that she needed my okay, she’s twenty-six years old, she’s an adult and can make her own decisions. But we are close and I knew she would like my approval, so I gave it. She hadn’t been with a man for quite a while after her Dad died. Then she introduced me to you, I met you, and liked you immediately. You had the look and the qualities that I would want in a man. I thought if you’re good enough for me, you’re good enough for Ella.”
—-
The bachelorette party was being held at the house that one of the bridesmaids shared with a couple roommates. There was a large, open great room and the bar had been well-stocked. The roommates had invited a few other friends too, so the room was also well-stocked with boisterous, half-lit women. Most of the gals were into their second or third drink when the doorbell rang. The entertainment had arrived.
A male stripper had been hired for the occasion. In strode a good-looking, light-skinned black guy, probably no older than nineteen or twenty. He set a boom box on a table and didn’t waste any time. He turned it on. A tight, funky groove kicked in and he went into his act.
“Who’s getting married?” he shouted.
Everybody pointed at Ella. He shuffled over to her.
The guy was athletic. He moved with smooth precision, his knees, hips and ass locked into the pocket of the beat. He was dressed in a red silk shirt, a navy blue tie, and white jeans. Red, white and blue. His body writhed and his groin was about a foot in front of Ella’s face. He moved around the room as the girls giggled and hollered.