High C

11. Special Guests

The family home was in a wild state when the shoppers returned that afternoon, with the trucks of caterers, florists and seasonal decorators crowding the street and driveway of the house as though the Loys were under extreme federal surveillance.

For the annual Christmas party, furniture had to be arranged to make room for additional tables and rental seating. The family Christmas tree had been black-bagged and dragged off to another room, its place usurped by a much grander, professionally decorated imposter. The kitchen was off limits as food staff prepped for guests arriving later that evening. It didn't stop DeeDee from sneaking in to ask about the menu, much to the joy of those already wringing their aprons. It was still too early to see any hors d'oeuvres being put together, which was all she was really interested in anyway.

Natasha announced she and Bob were going upstairs to take a nap before the party as an excuse to phone Rodney. Bob decided he might as well nap. He was going to need plenty of energy to keep up his bozo act for guests curious about Natasha's new man. The rest of the evening's entertainment would be provided by a jazz quintet, and later a surprise appearance for Alvin by his favourite tongue-in-cheek lounge singer, Peps Freberg. Bob figured he'd need just enough material to make it to Peps' morning-after torch song, 'Why Won't She Leave?', and then the room would forget he existed.

But first things first. After he and Natasha had dressed and gone downstairs, just before guests started arriving, Bob asked Mr. Loy if he could have a private word.

"If we must," Alvin said.

They moved into a corner near the guest washroom, one of the few places not buzzing with party staff.

"I've been feeling pretty guilty about not asking your permission to marry Natasha before I proposed," Bob said.

"It's the 21st century, Bob," he said, which Bob thought ironic considering his out of date demands forced Natasha's whole scheme in the first place.

"What can I say? I'm an old fashioned guy and I'd like to pay my respects to the man who's raised such an incredible woman."

"That's fine. Thank you."

"I'd also like your permission to get her in the family way as soon as possible."

"What?"

"Pregnant."

"What the hell's that got to do with me?"

"You sort of hold the patent."

"I can't give you permission for that."

"What about the first thing?"

Alvin stared at him for the longest time, weighing what he wanted to say with what he wanted Natasha to know he said, all the while wondering why he should have to answer the idiot in front of him at all. "We'll see," he finally grumbled.

"Great!" Bob said with a celebratory hand clap. "See you around the punchbowl!"

Once the party was in full swing, Alexis latched onto Bob's arm in order to drag him around the room and present him to everyone. It was only natural that she should want to show him off and therefore only necessary for Bob to have to make her regret it.

There wasn't an eager smile of new acquaintance which could not be shrivelled by a ganglion cyst anecdote or the description of a k-wire skewering a hammer toe. No welcoming curiosity extended past stories of gliding ants being tested in wind tunnels or cannibal ants escaping nuclear bunkers. With each introduction Alexis made, she became less and less willing to do so, and soon tales of Bob's troubles with mother - "I didn't even meet her new boyfriend until he got Athlete's foot!" - and bad blood with brother Ivan, - "So I spoiled the ending of the movie for him? Was that any reason to throw me out of the car?" - seemed like categories on a WTF Bingo card for which everyone had a stamp.