Blake didn’t look forward to more of the combo’s amateur antics and Carlton’s drunken behavior. He opened the door and grimaced: he faced a rush of air that carried a blasting trumpet and a sax inhibited by a broken reed. He slammed the door, listened to the room vibrate and wondered if the manager could read minds. 
“Hey John,” he said grabbing a friend he hadn’t seen earlier. Blake’s head began to pound. He had to shout to make himself heard. “When did you get here?” 
“Just before Carlton opened his cake and that gal stepped out.” 
“ Jenine? When did Jenine and the cake get here?” Blake shouted and laughed. 
“About ten minutes ago.” John leaned close to Blake to make himself heard. “The two of them have been dancing on those tables since then. Sorta sexy, don’t you think? Although you can see almost everything they have, if you get my meaning?” 
“I can’t miss what you’re saying!” Blake shouted. 
They laughed. 
“Interesting, I would say. See you later,” Blake said, as he took his hand off John’s shoulder. 
Blake strolled among the swaying men, shaking hands and patting backs of his and Carlton’s buddies, some were members of the wedding party, others were school chums. They shouted, clapped hands, and whistled, shouted and greeted Blake and traded remarks and jokes about Carlton dancing in his shorts, which were hanging on Carlton’s hips. 
Carlton and the pretty redhead shimmied toward each other and rubbed hips, bumped pelvises and buttocks keeping time with the combo. Blake unbuttoned his shirt and opened his collar as he began to perspire. Other guests had taken off their ties. The floor and empty chairs were strewn with discarded ties. Blake saw another buddy take off his shirt and quickly step out of his trousers. 
He rushed to him. “What are you doing, Mortie?” 
Blake picked up the tie, the shirt sand slacks.. 
“Carlton said we could all dance with the cake lady, Jenine, I think her name is, up there, but he shouted we had to strip first. We had to look the part--” He laughed. His eyes were glazed and he kept time with the combo. 
Blake guessed Mortie had drunk too much liquor. 
“What does that mean?” Blake asked. “You have to look like what? Do you have to be buck naked?” 
Blake heard a Texas yell from across the large room. Blake recognized Navy Jones, a school chum since grade school, as he kicked off his loafers. He handed Mortie his clothes and rushed to Navy, who stepped out of his slacks and pulled off his undershorts. 
“Navy, what in heck are you doing?” 
“Getting ready,” Navy shouted and wiggled his hips. 
“Navy, you’re drunk!” 
“What better excuse.” 
Thoughts suddenly streamed through Blake’s mind. He thought back many years. The loud music dimmed. He recalled that Navy Jones got his nickname because he always wanted to play battleships and not Knights as Carlton and Blake preferred. 
“You guys always play Knights and someone always gets killed. I want to play battleships and that’s that.” 
Blake recalled how Navy, named Patrick Jones at birth, sulked and finally played Knights with him and Carlton, but only after Carlton promised they would play battleships one day. Blake chuckled. Poor Navy, he thought. We never did play battleships.  
“We gotta strip down. Get naked and nasty like Carlton, there. And show our stuff. And I’ve got a lot to show.” 
“That would really bring the cops. Try to keep your pants on, Navy.” Maybe it’s me who’s not in the swing of things.  
Blake imagined he and Jenine, stripped and dancing. He shivered at the feeling. I wouldn’t mind dancing with her. She has a great body! Wouldn’t mind, well? He enjoyed his thoughts and his togetherness with Jenine.  
He moved closer to the table as Carlton shimmied as he bent down and slowly tugged at Jenine’s panties. Everyone roared approval and clapped their hands as the combo played sour notes: their eyes on Carlton and the curvy dancer. 
“Was Carlton always that good?” 
“Good? What do you mean good, Charlie?” Do you mean chaste? He enjoyed his sarcasm.  
“He looks pretty sexy and well, quite a man, if you understand me. You know. He’s always had his clothes on when I’ve been around him in the locker rooms and all. I didn’t notice he had that much before. That is that much to offer.” Charlie blushed. 
They frowned, trying to hear each other above the clamor. 
“Even when you guys were at law school?” Blake asked. 
Charlie arched his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?” 
“Didn’t you two go to the same law school?” 
“Yeah, but we didn’t see each other that often.” 
“Well, Charlie, my friend too, and he’s always had his clothes on when I’ve been around him, at least until recently, tonight,” Blake shouted and shook his head. “No! He’s definitely a lawyer but not a stripper . . . ” 
He watched Carlton’s hips and suddenly agreed with Charlie. Carlton stepped around Jenine with smooth body movements and gave strutting a new meaning. His foot moved closer to the table’s edge as he rotated his hips and made suggestive pelvic thrusts toward Jenine. She invited him, with her hands and her mouth, to come closer. The men roared. Jenine’s and Carlton’s provocative dancing aroused Blake. 
Suddenly, Carlton missed the table and fell on top of Blake, who reached out to catch him. Carlton grabbed Blake. They sprawled on the floor. Some men gathered around Carlton, other paid attention to Jenine who frowned as she knelt on a table. Navy jumped on top of the long table and tapped Jenine’s shoulder. She turned and screamed facing Navy, who wore no clothes. He had even taken his watch off. 
Navy’s really blond in both places, Blake thought. He gave up trying to bring propriety to Carlton’s bachelor party and jumped up, rubbed his behind and the back of his neck as he tried to help Carlton stand. He slipped again and held onto Blake, tearing his shirt on the way to his knees. 
Blake laughed at Carlton. “Are you all right, tiger?” Blake asked. 
“Hm-ugh!” Carlton squinted to see Blake. “Blake? What’s going on?” 
“You fell.” 
“Oh, Blake, if you knew how I felt. Something’s going on in my gut!” 
“That’s OK. Can you stand?” 
“Where?” Carlton asked. 
Blake laughed and remembered other times when Carlton was past feeling good and into drunken numbness. He recalled high school dances, parties in college and the few affairs at Carlton’s law school. Most of his life, Carlton was somewhat prudish and upstanding. Then, every once in a while, he would ‘let loose,’ as he said and get himself into unbelievably unenviable situations. 
Blake laughed, amused, at Carlton’s stupor. The man cannot drink. A few slugs and he’s ready to boogie and then die. 
Blake knew his life-saving days with Carlton were over. He didn’t like the thought. He had always known he had to protect Carlton. But through most of life he didn’t now why. 
The heavy door slammed as Blake struggled with Carlton and held him close. Dungeon-like sounds of the door echoed through the large ballroom. The combo stopped playing. High heels on hardwood, stomping with a purpose, echoed throughout the large room. Blake held Carlton’s sweating body and was aware Carlton breathed rapidly. 
“Can you feel anything, Carlton? I hope you’re OK for the wedding.” 
“Wedding?” 
“So this is what it is?” Val asked. 
Heads turned. Silence dominated the room. 
Blake hated her accusatory tone. He’d heard it too often. “Who is she?” Val asked pointing to Jenine. “A friend of yours?” she shouted at Blake 
Blake glanced at the dancer. 
“An entertainer,” a Navy said. Blake thanked Navy. Somehow Navy had never looked more naked. 
“What is really going on here? He’s naked. Get him some clothes!” 
“Looks like the party’s over,” Charlie said, as he finished his drink. Blake wondered if Charlie knew Val. 
“You gonna hold my naked husband all night?” She folded her arms. Her manor was threatening. 
“Come on, Carlton. Let’s get you dressed, buddy.” Blake ignored Val. Charlie helped him support Carlton as Carlton continued muttering. 
“Is he speaking English?” Charlie asked. 
“I don’t know,” Blake said. 
They stumbled to the close end of the table; Carlton swayed as he looked down at his clothes. 
Val grabbed Carlton and told everyone it was time to leave with the finesse of an Army command. “It’s after three,” she said shrilly as if everyone should have known. 
“After three, what?” Navy shouted at her. He spread his legs wide and made no attempt to dress. Jenine stood still with her legs together. 
“That attitude will kill a party faster than--” Charlie said and blushed. 
Val shout a defiant glance at Blake and Charlie. 
Blake nodded and started for the door. “Carlton, it looks like you’re in good hands. I’ll call you tomorrow, buddy,” he said as he walked away, joining other revelers as Val struggled with Carlton’s slacks. 
“Blake! What?” Carlton managed to be understood. “Wait.” 
“Tomorrow, buddy,” Blake said and followed Charlie and the group as they left the room. 
The crowd mumbled their displeasure. Navy jumped down from the table and mooned Val. Bitch, he said to himself and put his clothes on. 
“Some friends you have, Carlton,” Val said. 
Carlton looked at Val. He couldn’t see her clearly. He mumbled, “You might, if you tried harder, sound more like my mother than my fiancé.” 
Blake watched Jenine stagger into the lady’s powder room and met the musicians at the door. “After you gentlemen.” He turned to Charlie. “Are you leaving now? I’ll walk out with you.” 
“After I go to the head. I gotta pee and bad. If she doesn’t mind,” he said. He pointed his head toward Val. “She’s really a winner, isn’t she? Poor Carlton, Charlie said whispering to Blake. 
“Indeed, she is. And, poor Carlton is right” He shoved Charlie gently and patted his back as they parted. “OK, then Charlie. See you at the wedding?” 
“Right.” 
“Too bad, Mr. Forge,” the tenor sax man said. “It was a great party until she showed. I really thought that blond guy was gonna get . . .” 
“And I was afraid that he might,” Blake said. He was still aroused thinking about Navy and Jenine You old voyeur, he thought. 
They laughed and continued walking slowly through the near empty diningroom. “I even thought maybe I’d get to dance with that Jenine. She is really pretty, isn’t she?” 
Blake searched the diningroom for Jaime. The lamp wasn’t lighted on the reservation stand. Darkness covered that end of the room. Only one bartender, Barney, still working, listening to some guy with a tall or sorrowful tale. He watched Barney listen and wash glasses.  Washing glasses. There’s an occupation for you. Jaime must have departed. Departed. Departed. Too bad. 
Blake shuffled his feet on the thick carpet as they left the diningroom walked slowly through the long hall and avoided the hotel’s main lobby. He enjoyed the soft sound of their footsteps and shuffling on the thick carpet. 
It’s later than I thought. Hardly anyone here. Don’t know what I thought. Feeling pretty good myself. Wouldn’t mind some company. He saw his empty bed  
Blake held the door for the musicians as they walked out into the early morning chill and he leaped down the flight of ten stairs onto the parking lot macadam. 
“Talk about casting a pall--” the pianist mumbled and kicked a stone. 
“Is she a friend of yours?” the leader asked. 
“Not mine, Vern. I scarcely know her,” Blake replied and chuckled. ‘And that’s the good part.” He put his hand on his car door handle. “Well, thanks again. If nothing else, you play loud,” he said, his tone friendly. They laughed. “But seriously, thanks. You did a good job.” 
They waved, he climbed into his sports car, placed a hand on the wheel, closed the door and adjusted his rearview mirror to watch the somber combo walk toward their van. He started the engine, backed up and slowly drove out of the parking lot; he couldn’t wait to get home, get a shower and climb into bed. He thought about taking a shower and sleeping naked. He smiled as he turned onto the onramp that led to his home in the country. He floored the accelerator.