He calls Gerri while he's standing at the bar, having had enough of googling his new soon-to-be stepdaddy. She answers on the second ring. "Hey."
"Hey. Can you talk?"
"Sure." He hears her shut a door. "What's up?"
"I just found out my mother," he puts on his best British aristocratic accent. "Is getting re-married, and failed to let us know."
"Caroline?" She sounds surprised and he's relieved that she didn't know either. "Who to, Rory?"
"Nope. Someone named Peter Munion. Do you think he'll want to fuck me? I'm looking at his photos online and I think he'll probably wanna fuck me."
"When is this wedding happening?"
"In the summer. Italy. You've probably got a save the date somewhere in your emails."
"And she only just told you?"
"Oh no, she didn't tell me. I had to find out from some random Brexiteer. You think this is her revenge, because we didn't go for Christmas?"
"She probably didn't want your father to know yet," she reassures him. "The divorce settlement… it's complicated. I'm sure she would have told you soon."
"Mmm hmm. Take my mind off it, what are you wearing?"
"I'm busy, Roman. How's the Republican circle jerk anyway?"
"Good. I met the new Hitler. He seems nice."
"Well, have fun. I gotta go."
"Bye." He hangs up before she can cut him off and resumes scrolling through Munion images.