Word spread quickly. Isn’t it Virgil who employs that metaphor about rumor’s dark-winged flight? Only this, of course, was not rumor but truth. I wondered, bringing in the mail, turning on the machine to hear the morning’s messages, if it could be said that truth flies as quickly as rumor. Socrates would dispute that. However, if I named it not truth but fact—except that the air is so full of flying facts, like bats in a boathouse, that all one can do is swing at them with a tennis racquet, bringing down as many as one can. Of Mr. Theo’s engagement, however, it could be said that word spread quickly. An event of some note, it seemed.
Whirr, beep. “Teddy, it’s Lisette. Congratulations, I think. I sure congratulate her. The truth is, if I’d known you were on the verge of marriage, I’d have handled you a little differently. And if that pleases your vanity, it’s meant to. Best wishes to you, Teddy, best of luck. Sorry about…it all.” Beep.
Whirr, beep. “Theo, Dad here. We’ve changed to a Thursday evening flight, so we can be rested up to join you Saturday. I’m sure you know how pleased we are.” Beep.
Whirr, beep. “Well, I am impressed, little brother. It’s Babbsy, remember me? Mother called last night and I’d hoped to catch you this morning before you went to work, but I guess—it’s seven twenty-five, our time—But I’m impressed, the way they cut their stay short to come home and celebrate. Remember how much trouble we had fitting my wedding in between a trip to London and the Member-Guest Tournament? Comes from being a boy, you think? Or marrying the right person. Although I can’t imagine why Prune is marrying you, unless she figures she knows you at your worst so there’s nothing horrible to discover. I guess you know what you’re doing, you two. I should say congratulations. I guess I do. Sorry to be cynical, and I do hope everything goes well for you. You’re older than I was; maybe you’ll be smarter. I don’t get too excited anymore about weddings, mine or anyone else’s, but I’ll be there, with bells on, you can bet on that. If you’re happy, I’m happy for you.” Beep.
Whirr, beep. “Ted. Kyle. What do you want to go and do a thing like that for? Just kidding, buddy. Seriously. I lay claim to hosting your bachelor party, so give me a date. We’re falling like flies, have you noticed?” Beep, whirr.
Beep. “It’s Christine Rawling, Theo, to say first that we are all glad to accept your invitation to dinner Saturday, and second how pleased Martin and I are at your news. We think you’ll be very happy with our girl. We’ll tell you so in person on Saturday. That’s at seven thirty, isn’t it?” Beep, whirr.
Beep. “Theo, Davy here. Well done, little brother, the parents are all in a dither and Alice and the kids are pretty excited too. I’ll be proud to be your best man—returning the favor. Call me tonight. I’ll be in meetings most of the day, then coaching, so it better be after dinner. You won’t regret it, Theo, that’s my brotherly advice.” Beep.
Whirr, beep. “This is Reverend Smallquist’s office returning Mr. Mondleigh’s call. If Mr. Mondleigh could get back to us as soon as possible, with the date he wants, the Reverend is holding all open spaces in his calendar until he hears from Mr. Mondleigh.” Beep, beep, beep.