Kit had only ever seen the Las Vegas Strip on television. The bright lights from the many clubs and casinos were almost iconic, recognizable by anyone anywhere on the planet who had ever seen them.
And now he was there. Riding in a rented limo, through the heart of Vegas on the way to Ian's sister's place, where he and the rest of the groomsmen would be staying this weekend.
It was the trip of a lifetime.
"Wow . . ." Beside him, Adam was gazing out at the wondrous light show with his nose pressed against the window, in utter awe.
"What was it like growing up in the middle of all this?" Chance asked Ian.
"None of this was here when we lived here. It was all just desert."
"Really? All of this was just empty sand?"
"More or less."
"And you're sure Rosalie knows we're coming?"
"Well, I didn't talk to her, exactly. I talked to her granddaughter, Caitlin. But she said she'd talk to her about it."
"Okay . . ."
"I can't wait to hit the clubs later," said Nolan.
"Get lots of pictures!" Kit insisted. "Since I can't go with you. I hate being under twenty-one."
Len just sat there taking it all in, never saying a word. Maybe he was just nervous. Kit couldn't tell. And he didn't want to ruin the mood by asking.
The limo pulled out of the city proper and out into the outskirts. Eventually they came upon an ornate two-story house that looked like it didn't belong out here in the wilds of Nevada. It was much more a San Francisco-type house.
"This is home," Ian said. "This is where I grew up. Wait till you see the attic!"
"We'll see it later," said Chance. "Right now, grab the bags."
"All of them?"
Chance rolled his eyes. "Yours! You packed enough stuff for a whole month!"
"I didn't want to have to do laundry. Besides, I have so much to show Rosie. I hope she's home."
"You're not sure she's home?"
"Like I said, I talked to her granddaughter. She should be here, at least. Is this everything?"
"The rest is all yours. I'll help you carry some of it." Chance picked up one of Ian's bags in addition to his own, and then slung a third bag across his shoulders. "Come on, guys."
The rest of them picked up their bags and followed them up the walk. "I hope she's home," said Kit, "or we're gonna have to go stay at a hotel."
"There's a car," Nolan pointed out. "Someone's home."
"Yes, but is it the right someone?" asked Adam.
"We'll soon find out. Go ahead, Ian, ring the bell."
"You ring the bell!"
"She's your sister!"
"Oh, for -" Len reached between them and pressed the bell.
"Yes? Who is it?" It was definitely an older woman's voice.
"Ro? Is that you?" Ian was staring at the door as if trying to see through it.
The woman in the doorway looked good for her age. It was hard to tell exactly how old she was - Ian had said she was younger than he was, but not how much younger - but Kit guessed her age at about seventy-five, the same as his grandmother.
She fumbled for her glasses and put them on. "Bean?"
"Ro-Ro!" Ian leaped forward and threw his arms around her. "Oh, my baby sister!"
"Baby sister?" Kit was shaking his head. "This is too weird."
"Tell me about it," said Chance. "Sixty years in and out of suspended animation makes for some awkward family situations."
"Ian seems to be taking it okay."
"Yeah, well, that's Ian for you. Nothing ever bothers him."
As soon as they separated, Rosalie said, "You and your friends may come in. Just leave your bags by the door; you can bring them up later. I have some nice homemade cookies for you."
"Peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal raisin?" Ian asked eagerly.
"God, stick to one ingredient at a time, will you?" Chance rolled his eyes.
"Ro, this is Chance, my . . . um, that is, we are . . . he and I -"
"We're together," Chance explained, extending his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. . . Mrs?"
"Oh, just call me Rosie," she said. "We're practically family already. When you say together, you mean . . .?"
"Yeah. That."
"Oh. Oh, I see. Well, I hope you two will behave yourselves under my roof."
"We were planning on misbehaving somewhere else," said Adam. "Only Ian can't come cause we don't let him have alcohol."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"It's Len's bachelor party," Kit explained. "We wanted to take him to Vegas, since none of us have ever been, and when Ian told us that you live here, we decided to kill two birds with one stone and come visit. That's okay, isn't it?"
"Who's Len?"
"That would be me," Len said, stepping forward. "This is Senior Mischief Maker Nolan, and my two best men, Kit and Adam."
Rosalie blinked when she saw them. "Oh! Twins."
"Kind of," Kit explained.
"Mirror twins," Adam went on. "Same genes, different dimensions. That's why I'm old enough to drink, and he isn't."
"Which totally stinks."
"No, it doesn't!" Ian exclaimed. "You get to see the house! I'll show you everything . . . um, you haven't changed things too much, have you, Ro?"
"No, I haven't. I kept it exactly as it was, just for you."
"The attic, too?"
"I've had some cleaning done up there, but I haven't touched anything that's yours. You can take some things with you when you go, if you want."
"That's okay, it can stay here."
"I think she's trying to tell you to get rid of your junk," Chance said to him. "Go through it and see what you want."
"Okay." He started to head for the stairs, but Chance, laughing, stopped him.
"Not now! We're having cookies now!"
"I can have cookies?"
"Of course you can have cookies."
"Even with sugar in them?"
"I think you can handle it."
"Okay. Let's go have cookies. In the parlor?" he asked Rosalie.
She nodded. "Someone needs to bring in extra chairs. There are only four with our dining set."
"On it." Len and Nolan went in search of the chairs.
"Did you take down those awful portraits?" Ian asked.
"Lord and Lady Rottenham? Yes, I got rid of those ages ago. And those heavy gold drapes are gone, too. They made the place such a cave, but Mother was so paranoid about people being able to see what we were doing."
"I thought nobody lived here then," said Kit.
"Well, the houses on either side were just being built when we were children. Most of this neighborhood was built after the war, though."
"Which war?"
"The Second World War, dear. Oh, no, not those chairs. Those are antiques, and I don't want anything spilled on them. I'm sorry, I should have said. We have some chairs in the Gold Room that'll suit. Ian, show them where that is."
"Don't eat all the cookies while I'm gone!"
"Don't worry," Adam said. "Nobody could eat this many cookies." The platter in the center of the table was literally piled high with very odd-looking cookies. He took one and examined it. "Peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal raisin . . . three cookies in one."
"Ian used to rave about these cookies," said Chance. "It was his mother's recipe. Probably not so much a recipe as 'I can't decide what kind of cookies to make, so I'll put everything together in a big bowl and see what happens.'"
"Are they any good?" Kit asked.
"They'd have to be. She was never this disorganized unless it was on purpose. I could never bring myself to try them."
"Well, try them now."
"You try them!"
"You were the one who said they were good!"
"I said I thought they were. I may be wrong."
"We'll all try them," Adam suggested. "On three."
Though somewhat dubious, Chance and Kit each picked up one of the misshapen cookies.
"One . . . two . . . three!" As one, they bit into the crazy confections.
It was some time before any of the three was able to speak, probably due to the raisins. When Kit got his jaw unstuck, he swallowed and said, "Not bad."
"Kinda tasty, actually," Adam observed.
Ian came back with Len and Nolan, each carrying a functional wooden chair, which they arranged around the table.
"I see you've tried the cookies," Rosalie said. "They're quite . . . filling, aren't they?"
"They're great," said Chance. "You may have to bake some more before this weekend's over."
"Oh, I don't do the actual baking anymore," she said. "Katie mostly handles that for me. She's a very helpful girl. I never asked her to move in with me and help me out; she just did it on her own. I don't know what I'd do without her."
"When do we get to meet this Katie?" Len asked.
"She should be home later. She takes classes at night, you know. She's going for her degree."
"What in?"
"I don't know. She's explained it to me a hundred times, but I can never remember. When she gets home, you can ask her."
"She sounds like quite a girl," Chance said. "Is there anything to drink to go with these delicious cookies?"
"Well, let me see. I know I have some iced tea, but I'm not sure there's enough for everyone. I'll be right back."
When she was gone, Ian said, "Maybe I should come with you guys. I'm not sure I can trust Chance in strip clubs."
"Oh, for crying out loud! Is this because I mentioned in group last time that I thought I might possibly be bi?"
"I don't want you leaving me for some girl!"
"I'm not leaving you! Baby, why do you do this? You think I don't love you? You think I don't want to be with you, and only you? I'm not going anywhere. Maybe I wasn't sure about this in the beginning, but I know now that you're the only one I want. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate a nice set of -"
"Here we are!" Rosalie delicately placed a huge pitcher of iced tea in the center of the table, next to the cookies. "And there's plenty more where that came from!"
"But we don't have any glasses," Ian pointed out.
"Oh, of course! How silly of me! I'll go get them." And she disappeared again.
"Don't go," Kit begged Ian. "Don't leave me here by myself while these guys go out and party without me. You said you were going to show me the attic."
"That's right!" Ian suddenly jumped up out of his seat, scattering cookie crumbs everywhere. "Let's go, right now!"
"Right now? Let's finish our cookies first, buddy. Then we can figure out who's sleeping where, and unpack all our stuff. Then after that, we can go exploring. That sound good to you?"
"I suppose you guys will want to go out as soon as possible?" he asked the rest of the group.
"Well . . . it's still pretty early," said Nolan. "Let's all take the tour before we head out to find a good time."
"And you're going with them?" Ian asked Chance.
"I promise I won't stare, touch, tip, or otherwise interact with the young ladies."
"And don't drink too much!"
"When do I ever drink too much?"
"Christmas. You had four cups of punch and sang Village People songs all night long."
"You sang backup!"
"Yeah, but I wasn't drunk. I was just there to keep an eye on you."
"We weren't even together then!"
"I think in some way, I've always loved you. I just didn't know that I did."
"Here we are! It took me a while to find the paper cups - honestly, I think Katie hides them from me! I didn't want to risk the good crystal. Maybe tomorrow night." Rosalie placed a cup before each of the boys, and one at her own place. Then she finally sat down. "So, what have you been talking about?"
They all looked at each other and laughed.
"There are three bedrooms on this floor," Rosalie said, leading them upstairs. "One of them is Katie's, but the other two have two beds each. I use them for guest rooms."
She opened the door to the first of the two guest rooms. "You might not recognize it anymore, Bean, but this used to be your room."
"What did you do? I hope you changed the wallpaper. I'm a little old for circus animals."
"Come in and see."
The group took a few steps into the room. No, there were no circus animals on the walls, which were painted a light green. The matching bedspreads were a green floral print, matching the curtains over both windows, and the carpet was a darker green.
"I like it," said Chance. "Guess we're staying here, huh, Ian?"
Ian was looking around as if searching for something. "Where's my dresser?"
"It's right there. Joseph - that's Katie's father - painted it white a few years ago. It matches the wardrobe."
"Oh." He opened one of the drawers and saw the original color inside. "There it is! Top two drawers are mine!"
"Why don't we leave them to unpack, and we'll move on?" Rosalie suggested. "The other room is a bit bigger - it was once the master bedroom."
"Where's your room?" Kit asked. "Shouldn't you have the biggest bedroom? It is your house."
"My room is actually downstairs, behind the kitchen. It used to be a pantry back in the day. Katie suggested I move so that I wouldn't be climbing up and down stairs all day."
"Oh, okay. That makes sense."
The other guest room was similar to the first, except that it was done all in blue, and had a second, wider, dresser. Also, the beds were doubles instead of twins.
"This'll do," Len said, and lay down on the closest bed to test it out. "Nice and firm . . . I like it."
"I don't think we'll be doing much sleeping this weekend," said Nolan. "Get dressed, and we'll take you somewhere special."
"I am dressed."
"The packet in your bag with the number 1 on it. That's your outfit for the first night. Trust me, you'll love it."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure! Come on, guys, let's give him some privacy."
Kit and Adam set their bags down beside the tall dresser and followed Nolan and Rosalie out of the room.
"It's very nice," Kit said. "Does the closet door open?"
"There's nothing in there but old clothes and some of my mother's hatboxes. Nothing you'd be interested in."
"Old clothes can be fun. I noticed the door has a keyhole. Is it locked?"
"That lock hasn't worked in years. But as I said, there's nothing interesting in it. All these rooms are full of old junk, because I can never bear to throw anything away. It's all my parents' old things, all I have left of them. I suppose I could donate some of it to the Historical Society, but I can never remember to get around to it."
"This whole house could be a museum," said Adam. "Maybe the Historical Society would be interested in buying it, and opening it to the public."
"And where would I go?" she asked him pointedly. "This is my home. I won't turn it over to strangers until after I'm dead and gone."
"It was just a thought."
"Well, just think again."
"I didn't mean they should kick you out or anything -"
"They'd better not try. I know several lawyers who can make their lives very difficult. They can do what they want with it after I'm gone, but while I'm still alive, no one's turning me out of my own home."
"Uh, yeah, okay . . ." Adam, at a loss, finally gave up.
"It is nice, though," Kit said. "I can't wait to see the attic. Sounds like there's a lot of cool stuff up there."
"We used to play up there," Rosalie told him. "There was a trunk full of old clothes, and we used to play dress-up. Ian used to make up different characters that we'd play, tell whole stories about them. Mother always said he should be a writer. If you could get him to sit still long enough to get the words on the page, that is."
"Yeah, that would be the problem. He never stops moving. I mean, literally, never stops moving. It's fascinating to watch."
"What is?" Ian said, coming up behind him.
Without missing a beat, Kit said, "The way Alicia pulls my bed together. It's like a dance, in fresh linen. I could watch it all day."
"Does she know you're watching her?" Chance asked him.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Who is this Alicia, then?" Rosalie asked.
"His girlfriend," said Ian. "She's a maid."
"She's on the housekeeping staff," Kit clarified. "We've been going together for . . . six months? Seven? It's hard to figure, cause I don't know whether to count from our first actual date or the moment when we admitted we both liked each other."
"What's the difference?"
"Not much, really. About two weeks. So I guess it really doesn't matter."
"Well, as long as you're happy, I suppose. I'll be downstairs if you need me." And they heard her carefully-measured footsteps on the stairs, moving away from all the confusion.
"Are you done yet?" Nolan called out to Len.
"What is this? Am I supposed to wear this?"
"It's not that bad! Let's go!"
"Okay, but . . . what happens in Vegas better stay in Vegas. If pictures of this end up on Facebook -"
"They won't! Stop worrying about it! Tonight is a night to cut loose and have a good time! So let's get the show on the road already!"
"All right, all right! I'm coming!"
Based on Len's reaction, Kit was expecting something a little more outlandish than what the groom to be emerged wearing. It was just a light blue T-shirt with "Groom" across it, and white bell-bottom jeans. It was, however, so out of character - he'd never seen Len in anything but black before - that he laughed anyway.
"Thanks," Len said, rolling his eyes. "I needed that."
"Sorry, man. I couldn't help it. That's . . . quite a different look for you."
"That's the idea!" said Chance. "Can we go already?"
"If this is number one," Len groaned, "I can't wait to see number two. Probably something even more humiliating and embarrassing."
"Nah, we wouldn't do that to you." Nolan slung an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "It's really cool. Far-out and righteous."
"Oh, no. I have a bad feeling that tie-dye is gonna be involved in some way."
"Hey, don't knock tie-dye! I hear it's coming back again!" Kit said. "Have a good time, guys! But not too good, okay?"
"Get me a traffic cone!" Ian called out, as the group went out the door.
Kit looked at him. "Traffic cone?"
"A traffic cone is the sign of a really wild evening! The next morning, the guy wakes up with a traffic cone, a tattoo in an odd place, and an item of women's underwear. I've seen it in all the movies."
"Well, you watch too many movies, then."
"Can we go up to the attic? I want to see if all the cool stuff is still there!"
"I want to see what's in the closet first."
Just as Rosalie had said, the lock was broken. The door opened easily as soon as Kit put the slightest pressure on the knob. The closet was bigger than he had expected, a walk-in with shelves on both sides.
"Oh, wow!" Ian was already poking through the shelves.
"What?"
"They still make Buster Brown shoes?" He held up the box.
"It's probably an old box. Are there shoes in there?"
Ian cracked the lid and peeked inside. "No, looks like cards or something." He pushed the box back on the shelf where he had found it.
"Wait, what's this?" Kit found a square of paper on the floor and picked it up. "It's a photograph. Are these your parents?"
Ian looked at the photo. "That's funny," he said.
"What?"
"That's my father, all right . . . but that's not my mother."
"Maybe it's a sister or a female cousin or something. Half the people in my grandparents' albums are uncles and aunts of theirs that I never met."
"No, he didn't have a sister, just two brothers. One was married, but the other wasn't. And that's not Aunt Tilda." He turned it over. "Nineteen twenty. That's the year my parents were married."
"But that's not her."
"Nope. Don't recognize her."
"Do you think your sister might?"
"I don't know. If I could find the photo albums, there might be more pictures of her."
"You don't know where they are?"
"In the attic, I guess." He looked down at the unknown woman. "Who are you?"
The limo pulled up in front of a flashy club with blacked-out windows and a man at the door, taking names on his little clipboard. "ID," he said, at their approach.
Len, who was first in line, handed over his ID. The doorman looked at the date of birth first, and did a double-take. "Nineteen twenty-six?"
"Look at the name," Chance urged him.
He did so, and understanding dawned in his eyes. "Gentlemen," he said, holding the door for them.
Len raised his eyebrows at this, but went inside without a word. The others followed him.
Once inside, he could see the reason for the unusual outfit. The place was a perfect replica of an old disco, right down to the mirrored ball hanging from the ceiling.
"What, they didn't have the white John Travolta suit in my size?" he asked.
"But that would have given it away!" Adam insisted. "We did find a shirt with the Seventies font, though. Took two hours of Google searching, but we found it."
"You didn't put this trip together at the last minute," Len said to the group as a whole.
Nolan shrugged. "We had some ideas. I was the one who came up with the Seventies theme. There was an ad for this place on another site, so we checked it out. The T-shirt came later."
"We were going to Vegas no matter what," said Chance. "Ian wasn't gonna come, originally, but he found out what we were up to, and then he mentioned that his sister lived here, and so we figured why spend money on a hotel, so . . . long story short, that's why he's here."
"Now go have a good time!" said Adam. "What song do you want me to go request for you?"
"Oh, I don't know. I don't know that many disco songs. You pick something."
"Okay," the younger man said with a wicked gleam in his eye, and he headed off in the direction of the DJ booth.
"I don't know about you," said Chance, "but I think I want a few drinks in my system before I strut my funky stuff. I'm going to the bar. Anyone want anything?"
The other two weren't ready to begin their drinking just yet, so he went off alone.
Just then, the sound system vibrated with the opening notes of "Play That Funky Music." Len shook his head and sighed; this had to be Adam's request.
A rather attractive young lady in a blue silk dress brushed up against him. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said.
"No problem. A little crowded in here, isn't it?"
"Are you kidding? This place is always like this!" She threw back her head and laughed. "You wouldn't think there were so many people who still loved disco, but it's the nostalgia factor."
"Funny how people can be nostalgic for something they barely remember. Nobody here looks over thirty."
She laughed again. "You're right! I don't think they do remember, but they love it! I'm Ashley, by the way."
"Len."
"You know, you look familiar . . ."
He braced himself for the inevitable recognition.
"You look like that guy on TV, you know, the host on Survivor?"
He looked at her skeptically. "That's not one I've ever heard before."
"No? Well, you do. It's the jawline, I think. That rugged jawline."
"Really?" No one had ever complimented him on his rugged jawline before. "Thank you."
"You want to dance?"
He looked out onto the lighted dance floor. There were some people dancing - not a lot, but enough so that they wouldn't stand out too much. "Sure, why not?" It was his last weekend as a single man. Why not make the most of it?
"Boys?" Rosalie called up the stairs. "Katie's here, if you want to come say hello."
When they got downstairs, Katie was seated in the overstuffed armchair in the family room. She looked nothing like Ian or his sister. She had strawberry-blonde hair, worn gathered into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, and amazingly clear green eyes.
"Caitlin," Rosalie said, "this is your Uncle Ian."
"We spoke on the phone, didn't we?" She stood up and came over to him, and then suddenly threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad to finally meet you! Gran's told me so much about you, I didn't know what to believe!"
"Oh, believe it all," he said. "It's probably all true. Oh, this is my friend Kit. He's, um, he works with me."
"That is so amazing! I would give anything to do what you do. Tell me something: is that armor really heavy to wear?"
"It takes some getting used to," said Kit. "But now I hardly feel it at all. It's like a part of me."
"Really? Wow!"
"I've only been doing this for about a year, but now I can't remember a time when I didn't. But there's nowhere I'd rather be."
"It's good to like what you do," she said.
"Your grandmother said you're going to school. What are you studying?"
"Medical office management. I actually want to become a patient advocate, but they make you learn the whole thing first. At least I'm not dissecting anything."
"That is a bonus."
"But I have to learn all the jargon so I can translate it into English. Whoever said Latin is a dead language never went to medical school."
"Is it hard?" Ian wanted to know.
"It is. But it's worth it if I can get a good job in my chosen field. Some of the entry-level jobs pay forty thousand dollars a year."
"Is that a lot?"
"That's about eight hundred dollars a week," Kit said. "Three thousand dollars a month. Which could get you a pretty decent place, depending on where you look."
"I'm not even thinking about that yet," Katie admitted. "But I know I will before I finish school. The real estate market's starting to rebound out here, so hopefully I won't have to look too hard to find a nice place."
"My father," Rosalie said, "had this house built in 1924 for just over five thousand dollars. The furnishings were extra; I believe they were another hundred dollars. And the moving company charged him extra because they had to come way out in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing here but desert and a few leftover mining towns with a population you could count on one hand. He had no idea that anyone else would build anything out here, let alone what it became."
"Ro, where are the old photo albums?" Ian asked abruptly.
"I think they're in a box in the attic. Don't go looking for them now. I'll take you up there tomorrow. I have everything labeled, and I don't want you poking through all the wrong boxes looking for something."
"I wasn't gonna! I would have waited for you! Ro, I'm not gonna go tearing around up there pulling stuff out of boxes and just throwing it anywhere! I would have put everything back where I found it!"
"If you could remember where you found it," she said, with a knowing smile.
"That's where I come in," said Kit. "I'll remind him."
"Why the sudden interest in photo albums?"
Ian had his hand on the old photo, but he slid it into his pocket. "No reason," he said.
Ashley was a good dancer, but after three numbers in a row, Len was starting to get tired. "Can we sit this next one out?"
"Sure! Wanna come up to my room?"
"Room?"
"I have an apartment on the third floor. I share with a couple of other girls, but they're out right now. We'd have the place all to ourselves."
Okay, this had to stop. Dancing was one thing, but being alone with her was, he was pretty sure, something that Kase would not approve of. "I think I'd better just go find my friends."
"Aren't you havin' a good time? You looked like you were enjoying yourself."
"I am. I, uh, I should make sure they're not getting themselves into trouble. It was nice meeting you, Ashley -"
"Hey! What are you doing?"
A burly guy in the loudest shirt Len had ever seen crossed the dance floor in a few quick strides, stepped between him and Ashley, and gave him a look of utter fury. "That's my girlfriend you've got your paws all over, pal!"
"What?" He looked at the man, then looked at Ashley, who for some reason had trouble looking him in the eyes. "Look, I was just going to find my friends. There's nothing going on, I swear. I'm getting married next week."
"And you thought you'd have one last fling with my girlfriend?"
"Lonnie, stop it," Ashley said, to the floor.
"Shut up, you -" He raised a hand as if to slap her. Len caught it before it made contact.
"If you want to take this outside, I'll be happy to. But you don't ever hit a woman." Even as he said this, he thought of all the times he and Kase had sparred. But that didn't count, did it? Combat practice wasn't the same as beating on your girlfriend.
"Mind your own business, jerk."
"You just made it my business. Let's step outside, and then no one else will get hurt -"
Lonnie, enraged, broke free of Len's grip and charged him, which Len ducked and then grabbed the man by both arms, forcing him to the floor. The bouncer, who was even bigger than Lonnie, came over and hauled the guy out.
Ashley was still standing there, awe-struck. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"I'm a Kamen Rider."
Her mouth dropped open. "You mean . . . Lonnie got his butt kicked by a Kamen Rider? Cool!"
"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to find my friends now."
He left her standing on the dance floor. "I don't need this drama. I want to go home."
"This bed is too small," Ian said, as he got his nightclothes out of his bag.
"Looks big enough to me," said Kit.
"Not for two people."
"So you sleep in separate beds for a couple of nights. It's not the end of the world. Besides, you're only six feet apart. It's not like you're in separate rooms."
"When do you think they're gonna be back, anyway?"
"How should I know? I just hope they're having a good time. Whatever they're doing."
"I can't wait till the wedding," said Adam.
"'S gonna be pretty." Nolan finished what was in his glass and signaled for another round of drinks.
"Wait till you see my shirt," said Chance. "I found the ugliest Hawaiian shirt ever!"
"What's it look like?"
"It's green. Kind of khaki green. With black and yellow flowers. I think. I think there were other colors, too."
"Sounds nice," said Adam. "Mine's just black and white."
"Nothing's black and white," said Nolan. "Everything comes in shades of gray."
"The shirt. It's black with white flowers. There isn't any gray."
"There's always gray."
"I think you guys have had enough," said the waitress who brought them their drinks. "I hope you've got a designated driver."
"Got better," said Chance. "Got a limo. Somewhere."
"Well, why don't you look outside and see if it's here?"
"Can't," said Nolan. "Not without the groom. Where's he?"
Adam looked at him. "I thought you knew!"
"How would I know?"
"Well, I don't know! Chance, do you know?"
"Know what?"
"Where Len is."
Chance shrugged. "Somewhere."
"We gotta find him."
"But - but he could be anywhere! 'S a big place! We'll never find him!"
"Split up," said Nolan. "We'll find him faster that way."
"But how'll we find each other when we do find him?" asked Adam.
"Good question . . . we meet back here in ten minutes, with or without him. Then we look again, and meet in another ten minutes, and we keep doing that till we find him."
"Sounds good to me," said Chance, and the three went their separate ways.
Len was beginning to regret letting the guys talk him into coming here. Sure, when they arrived, the faux-disco kitsch had seemed almost charming. Now the flashing lights and pounding beat were giving him a headache.
And he hadn't even had anything to drink yet.
As soon as he found the guys, he was going to call the limo and have it take them back to Ian's sister's place. It was time to call it a night. He couldn't deny that it had been fun (at least until the unfortunate Lonnie incident), but the fun must now come to an end.
He went to the bar first, but they weren't there. For a moment, he thought about ordering himself a drink, but he decided that he couldn't afford to take the time right now, and he moved on to the tables near the bar.
No sign of them there, either.
Should he ask someone? Would they know who he was asking for?
Was he pressing his luck after the dust-up with Lonnie?
If these people would just stop moving for a minute, maybe he could spot one of his friends in the crowd. But just when he thought he saw one of them, somebody got in his way, and by the time they moved away, the person he thought he saw was long gone.
This was getting him nowhere.
Maybe if he went to the DJ booth and had him make some sort of announcement . . .
And just then, he literally bumped into Adam, coming out of the little alcove where the restrooms were.
"Scuse me, I'm sorry - oh, it's you. Where've you been?"
"I was looking for you guys."
"Well, we're looking for you! We're supposed to meet back over there . . . or was it over there? Wait, I'll find it . . ."
"I should never have left you guys," Len muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. Never mind. Wait, I think I see them over there." Len headed toward a table by the left side of the dance floor. Sure enough, Nolan and Chance were waiting there.
"Hey, guys, look who I found!" Adam announced proudly.
Len sat down in one of the empty chairs and brought out his phone. "I'm calling the limo now, guys. Don't go anywhere till it gets here."
Chance slid sideways and fell off his chair. He lay sprawled on the floor, blinking in rhythm with the flashing lights.
Len sighed and began to punch buttons. It was definitely time to go home.
By the time the limo pulled up in front of the house, Chance and Adam were either asleep or passed out, and Nolan was beginning to fade.
"Come on, guys, we're here." Len nudged the two sleepers. Adam woke up, but Chance was out like a light. Well, no problem. He picked the younger man up and carried him in the house, Nolan leaning on him for support.
It wasn't until they got up to the bedroom and started to get undressed that he noticed someone was missing.
"Where's Adam?"
Nolan looked around. "Wasn't he right behind us?"
"That's what I thought. I'll go check if he's outside. You stay here."
With any luck, he thought, Adam would be curled up in the bushes at the front of the house, safe and sound. But when he looked, there was no sign of him. He looked all around the house, out to the street, and then he had a chilling thought: what if Adam had never made it out of the limo?
"Hope it's not too late to call," he said to himself, and got his phone out again.
Halfway to his next job, the limo driver saw something odd in his rearview mirror. When someone in the back sat up suddenly and asked, "Where am I?", he nearly ran off the road.
One quick call to the dispatcher later, and he was on his way back to bring Adam home.
By the time they finally got it all sorted out and got everyone to bed, it was nearly two in the morning. They slept until almost ten, and Rosalie had breakfast ready, even if they didn't feel much like eating.
"I can't believe you left Adam in the limo!" Kit said to Len.
"I thought he was right behind us! I kinda had my hands full at the time. If we go out tonight, I'll make sure to check that everyone's out of the limo before we go inside. Are we going anywhere tonight?"
"I think that's the plan. If these guys can manage to get themselves out of bed before dark."
Just as he was saying this, Chance shuffled into the kitchen, followed by his better half. Len had put Chance down in the room with the two double beds, since Kit had taken the other bed in Ian's room, but somehow the two seemed to have found each other in the night. Chance was holding Ian's little stuffed animal, Shelldon, in one hand, and it made him look like an overgrown five-year-old.
"Good morning," Kit said, with a touch of amusement in his voice.
Chance just grunted in reply, tried to sit down in a chair, and missed, knocking it over. Ian, who was not used to being the responsible one, picked it up, and then helped Chance sit down properly.
"What did you do last night?" he demanded.
"I don't know. We got separated, and by the time I found them again, he was pretty well gone. So don't blame me for this."
"Just gimme some coffee," Chance grunted.
Rosalie gave him a sharp look. "You can ask for it properly," she said. "I don't know what you were up to last night, but that doesn't excuse you being rude in my kitchen. Now, try again."
He sighed. "Could I please have some mumble coffee?"
"That's better." She got up and poured him a cup. "Do you take cream and sugar?"
"No."
"I'm sorry?"
Sigh. "No, thank you."
"See, it's not so hard, is it?"
"It is today. I hurt."
"Well, next time, don't drink so much, then."
Chance just grunted in reply and drank his coffee.
"He's not usually like this," Ian explained. "But then, he doesn't usually drink a lot, either. Just at Christmas. He'll be okay later on."
"You wanted to look at photo albums today?" Rosalie asked him.
"Could we? Please? When?"
"Let's finish breakfast first, and then I'll go and get them."
"I'll get them! Where are they?"
"Settle down. I don't want you tearing through everything trying to find them."
Ian's mouth dropped open. "I wouldn't do that! I'd be really careful!"
"Bean, I know you. You have this tendency not to remember where things go sometimes. Everything in that attic is exactly where I want it, and I want to keep it that way. I know you mean well, but I don't want to lose anything by accident."
Nolan shuffled in, looked around, found the coffee pot, and poured himself a cup.
"I just . . . there's something I'm looking for."
"What?"
Adam came in, looking very unhappy. "You left me!"
"I thought you were right behind me," Len said.
"You didn't check! Why didn't you check?"
"I kinda had my hands full at the moment. Honestly, I didn't mean to leave you! Stop being a brat and sit down. You want breakfast?"
At the mere mention of food, Adam's face went green, and he rushed out of the room.
"Oh, dear," said Rosalie. "I hope he's all right."
"He will be," Len said. "He just likes to be dramatic sometimes."
"Do you know who this is?" Ian put the old photograph on the table and slid it over to his sister.
"Are you telling me you don't know your own father?" she said with a smile.
"Not him! The woman! Who is she?"
"I can't see her. I don't have my glasses on. I'll look at it later."
Chance saw the photo on the table, and slid it over to his side. "Who's this guy in the picture with my mother?" he asked.
Ian stared at him. "Your mother?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"That's my father."
"Oh, boy," said Kit.
