(One-shot)
Ryan hadn't been in Newport long, but he'd been here long enough to know he didn't fit in. His clothes were different, his mood was different, everything about him was just different. Blending into Newport was going to require more effort than he originally planned on.
Tonight was just another shining example. These Newport people were insane with their charity functions and tonight he was being dragged to another one. Thank God Seth would be there to cushion the difference between Chino and Newport.
Taking a seat at the banquet table, Ryan stared at the amusingly ridiculous number of utensils and plates and cups in front of him.
"Why do they put all of this out?" he complained to Seth. "Can't people just use the same fork for their entire meal?"
"Well what's the fun in that? Besides, if the table doesn't look like this, then it's not considered a 'gala' and those are the parties that really rake the money in."
Shaking his head, "So, can I just use this fork and forget about the rest?"
"Ah, no Ryan, that's your salad fork. The one next to it is your dinner fork."
"Oh. What the hell is this little, tiny fork for?"
"That's your hors d'oeuvre fork."
"They have a fork just for that?"
"Yeah, but don't worry about it, you probably won't like any of it anyway."
"Gentlemen, your ice teas," the server interrupted, setting their drinks down.
"Finally something I recognize," Ryan mumbled. "Pass me the sugar."
Ripping open a packet, he emptied the sweetness into his glass and reached for a spoon to give it a stir.
"Ah, no, not that one Ryan. That's for your soup. See how it's fatter than the normal spoon?"
"Oh." Setting it down, he reached for a different spoon.
"No, that's a coffee spoon, for after dinner. See it's short" Seth warned, watching Ryan leave it and reach above his dish. "No, that's a dessert spoon."
"What the fuck! I just want to stir my tea!"
"Shhh! Easy. Here, use this one."
Grabbing the spoon out of Seth's hand, "Where did this come from? I don't have one of these."
"One of what?"
"A normal fucking spoon, that's what!"
"Jesus Ryan, flame much? It'll get easier I promise. Look, the bread is coming. All you have to do is pick a piece of bread, or a dinner roll, of your choice then use the tongs to put it on your dish. Do not grab it with your hands, the Newpsies will be horrified."
Bread. It's just bread. He could handle bread, couldn't he? When the person next to him passed him the basket, he followed Seth's instructions and chose a slice of sourdough, pinching it between the tongs. And then he froze.
"Seth? Where do I put this?"
"On the little one, the little dish."
"I have three little dishes, which one?"
"One on the right."
Following suit, Ryan was happy to relinquish the tongs and the breadbasket to Seth.
"Ryan, make sure you grab a pad or two of butter when it goes by."
"A what?" he asked confused.
"A pad."
"A pad?"
"Yeah, look," pointing at the approaching dish of butter, "see these squares, these are pads."
"Figures. In Chino it's just fucking butter!"
"Shhh. Boys, pass the butter down. Ryan, no swearing at the table," Kirsten reprimanded. "Oh, and put your napkin in your lap."
"My napkin?"
Reaching over, Seth unfurled Ryan's 'bird of paradise' and folded it in half. "Here, put this across your lap."
Leaning into Seth, "I thought only girls do this."
"Maybe in Chino, but here in Newport, everybody does it."
"I feel like a girl," Ryan complained.
"Look at the bright side, it's under the table, no one can see it."
At Seth's comment, Ryan scooted his chair in just that little bit more to hide his napkin. The guys in Chino should see him now. Man, would he get a pounding!
Ryan felt it was a wise choice to pass on appetizers altogether, luckily the soup followed shortly after.
"Soup…soup…fat spoon, right?"
"Right. See, you're getting it."
Glaring at Seth, Ryan picked up his spoon and quietly tended to his own cup of soup.
"Ryan? Honey?" Kirsten called.
In mid swallow, Ryan looked to her hesitantly.
"Sweetie, you're holding your spoon like you want to strangle it. Relax. Hold it this way."
Watching Kirsten, Ryan turned to look at his own hand.
"You are looking rather caveman-like there buddy," Seth added.
"Now you're telling me I don't hold my spoon right?"
"Considering you're at a gala…no. You're not."
Dejected, "I need some air." Standing up, Ryan tossed his napkin down on his plate.
"Hmm, not there buddy. When you leave the table, men's room or whatever, napkin goes on your chair."
"Whatever!" Ryan succumbed, leaving the banquet room.
Ten minutes later, Sandy found him sitting outside on the steps by the garden, staring at the ocean.
"Hey, you should have told me you were coming out here, I would have joined you," Sandy said, taking a seat.
"I guess I'm just not cut out for this stuff. I don't even hold my spoon right."
"Aw, it's not you kid. This Newport bunch has their own idea of how people should look and act…and hold their spoons. Who knows, maybe you'll start a new trend."
Snorting, "Yeah I doubt that."
"You hungry kid?"
"I'm starving. It's just…" Glancing over his shoulder, Ryan silently explained he wasn't comfortable eating dinner Newport-gala style.
"I've got an idea. Follow me."
They walked a bit until they were no longer in the crowded areas of the banquet hall. Ryan followed Sandy down a bunch of steps and around a corner where they found themselves on the outskirts of the kitchen.
"Jacque? Jacque, you around?" Sandy called, looking for his favorite Frenchmen.
"Mister Cohen, so nice to see you," the man greeted, heavy on the French accent. "It's getting a little bit stuffy upstairs, no?"
"Yes, very much so. Can you help us out?"
"Anything for you Mister Cohen. Only the best for you and your guest."
"My son, this is my son, Ryan.
"Mister Ryan, a pleasure. Please, follow me."
Crossing through the kitchen, Ryan marveled at the busy work going on. Once on the other side, Jacque led them to a private patio overlooking the ocean.
"Peace and quiet, no?"
"Perfect!" Sandy beamed, taking a seat with Ryan following suit.
"And what I can get you?" Jacque asked.
"Something simple that we can eat like the men that we are. Do you know, my table setting had four forks and five spoons set out?" Sandy explained, much to Ryan's amusement. "I don't know whether I'm coming or going up there."
"I know," Jacque agreed. "The ladies…you know how they like the presentation…" Shrugging, as if to admit to the ridiculousness, "I bring you something for very much your enjoyment. I be right back."
Jacque was barely around the corner when Sandy noticed Ryan looking at him and smiling.
"What?"
"Why do I get the feeling you do this often?" Ryan asked, still smiling.
"Hey, I said the Newpsies have their standards, I never said I agreed with them."
Nodding, Ryan got it now. He wasn't alone after all.
When Jacque returned, he placed two plates down on the table. Overstuffed beef sandwiches with cups of au jus for dipping, grilled vegetables, stuffed jacket potatoes and a side salad to boot. Most important, he turned back to his tray and retrieved a single place setting for Ryan and Sandy.
"Jacque, I think I love you," Ryan declared.
"It looks good, no?"
"Perfect!"
"I couldn't agree more. This is wonderful Jacque, thank you."
"Please, enjoy. I will give you a few minutes to see what else you like."
After Jacque slipped away, "Cheers kid. Eat up."
That was music to Ryan's ears. Both men wrapped their hands around their sandwiches and dunked them before diving in. Sandy could see Ryan had clearly relaxed a bit, and he was indeed starving.
Halfway through their meal, "Now Ryan, make sure you save some room. We'll go back downstairs for dessert."
"That's the spoon above my dish?" Ryan asked absently, still chewing his sandwich.
"That's the one. They have amazing desserts here. Just delicious."
"Okay," he nodded. "I think I can handle dessert."
After taking a few moments to absorb their food, Sandy and Ryan returned to the main ballroom and sat back down at the table.
"Ryan, is everything okay?" Kirsten asked, concerned.
"Yeah. Fine."
Reaching for the napkin on his seat, Ryan folded it, sat down and placed it back on his lap.
"Hey, where have you been?" Seth inquired. "You've missed all the…excitement. Everyone is doing exactly what they were doing when you left."
"Just talking with your Dad."
Gasping, "You got to eat downstairs! You suck!"
"Sorry. I would have told you to come with but I had no idea where I was going at the time."
"Fine. Since you're new at this, I'll forgive you. Next time, we stick together…you leave the table, I'm coming with you."
Ryan smirked at Seth as the server set a large sundae down in front of each boy.
"But you came back at the right time. You don't ever want to miss these!"
Reaching for his dessert spoon, "So I've heard," Ryan responded, spooning up a generous mouthful of whip cream.
"So," Kirsten started, turning to Sandy with a smile. "Did he eat anything?" she whispered.
Chuckling, "Poor kid was starving. He ate everything!"
"Really? Poor Ryan!"
"Did I miss anything?" Sandy asked, dipping his spoon into his sundae.
"Surf and Turf. It was delicious. Sorry you missed it. What did you have?"
"French Dip au jus, grilled veggies and jacket potatoes."
"That actually sounds pretty good."
"It was. It was delicious."
"I guess we'll have to work on Ryan's table manners, help him feel more comfortable so we can all eat together next time," Kirsten suggested.
"I don't know, I kind of like sneaking off with my boys. It's nice having some one on one time."
Stealing the cherry out of Sandy's sundae, Kirsten sucked the whip cream off of it, drawing Sandy's complete attention. "In that case, I should forget my table manners more often."