Father of the Bride by Edward Streeter Read Free Book Online Page B

tablecloth, and the spirit of hospitality fled from him. That evening he had a business dinner in town, but the following morning he faced the shaving mirror with the set jaw of leadership.
    Someone had to take the helm. Someone had to tie up this disintegrating situation before it fell apart completely. For three seventy-two a unit he would undertake to tie up a wounded lion.
    “I’ll tell you one thing, Ellie,” he announced as he rubbed in the shaving soap vigorously. “Only a hundred and fifty people are coming to this reception. You’ve got to cut down the list. I don’t care who you leave out. I don’t care how many just get asked to the church. Pack ’em in. Build a grandstand in the chancel if you want. All I say is that the hundred and fifty-first person to enter this house gets thrown out on his ear even if it’s your own mother.”

    He had reduced everything to neat figures.
    Mrs. Banks looked at him with an astonishment that experience never seemed to dim. “Why, Stanley, that’s what I said at the very beginning. And you said it was an insult to ask anybody to the church and not the reception. I’m willing enough to cut and have been right along. Now people like the Sparkmans can just as well—”
    Mr. Banks winced. “It’s not a question now of insulting people. It’s a matter of survival. What’s the world going to say when we land in the gutter just because we insisted on giving a wedding reception like a Roman emperor? No sir. It’s no use arguing with me now, Ellie. I’ve made up my mind. One fifty is the limit.”
    Things looked better after he had had his breakfast, but he didn’t weaken. “Now, Ellie,” he said, as he left the house, “I want you to take that list today and slash it down to a realistic basis. I leave it all to you.”
    •  •  •
    He felt masterful and composed that evening as he entered 24 Maple Drive. Next to achieving sudden riches, acquiring financial equilibrium is almost equally gratifying.
    “Got everything fixed up, Ellie?” he called into the living room.
    “Yes, only—”
    “Pops.” Kay came out and threw a slim arm around his neck. “Pops, you big stupid. Do you know what you did? You forgot Buckley’s list. It just came today.”
    Mr. Banks’ psyche collapsed like an abandoned bathrobe. He walked slowly to the big wing chair and sat down heavily. “How many?” he asked. His voice sounded choked.
    Mrs. Banks came boiling into action beside her daughter. “He couldn’t have been cuter,” she declared. “He only wants a hundred and twenty-five including everybody. And I mean that’s everybody . And he’s marked those that he doesn’t think will come—like the officers in his squadron and so on.”
    “Oh, they’ve got to come.” Kay clasped her hands ecstatically.
    Mrs. Banks hurried on. “There are about fifty ‘P.N.C.s’ on the list. So that really cuts it down to seventy-five. And if you figure only two thirds of those will show up—”
    “O.K.,” interrupted Mr. Banks firmly. “That just means cutting seventy-five more from our list. If I haven’t got a friend left when this thing is over—why, I haven’t got a friend left—and that’s that.”
    All evening the list was slashed. Everyone finally got into the spirit of the thing until bosom friends were thrown out with a whoop of joy. By eleven-thirty it was reduced to two hundred and four. If a third of those didn’t come there would be one hundred and fifty-three at the house. Beyond that point they could not go.
    •  •  •
    Two nights later Kay came into the living room and sat on the arm of her father’s chair. She ran her fingers through his thinning hair.
    “Pops darling, are you going to miss me?”
    He swallowed quickly and patted her knee. “Don’t let’s talk about it, Kitten. If you’re happy, I’m happy. That’s straight.”
    “You’re so sweet, Pops.” She kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Do you know something? I hate to tell