Brunch At The Marbury (Part 3)

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brunch-at-the-marbury-part-3

Brunch At The Marbury (Part 3)

Pastor Greg stepped into The Marbury. He had gotten through the administrative tasks in record time. He had a notion that Jeb might invite him to breakfast, so he had gotten to church early to take care of as much of it as he could ahead of time. He looked around for familiar faces.

“Can I get you a table, Pastor?”

“Hi, Meghan. I’m looking for the Kwocks. Are they still here?”

“There’s a large table in the main room. I believe they saved you a chair. If not, I’ll have one brought over for you.”

“Thanks, Meghan. You’re the best. Say, are you going to come to the Christmas Eve Ball?”

“I haven’t got a date, Pastor. Are you asking me?”

“I’d be a lucky man if you said yes, but I’m the MC. I’ve got to go stag.”

“Enjoy your brunch, Pastor.” Meghan said with a sly smile.

Greg made his way to the table. “Hi, folks.” Something struck him oddly but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Take a seat, won’t you?” Phyllis tapped on the back of an open chair between her and Fran Kwock.

“Gee, thanks.” He went and hung his coat on the back of the chair. “I’m going to go grab a plate. Anybody up for seconds?”

“I could go for another plate.” Jeb stood up a little too fast for everyone’s comfort. “I’m going to try the pancakes.”

“Anybody else?” Greg asked. He looked over the table and got the feeling he was looking at the start of a feud. He followed Jeb to the buffet.

“Boy, am I glad you got here.”

“Jeb, what’s going on? It looks like World War III is about to kick off over there.” Greg spooned some fried potatoes onto his plate.

“I wish I knew. I was here getting my first plate with Aundrea. When I got back to the table, the temperature had dropped about fifty degrees.”

“What’s going on with you and Trilby?”

“Trilby? She said she wanted to come visit and see my decorations.”

“I bet she would.” Greg laughed. “You’ve been off on your own little island a bit too long, buddy. You’re caught smack dab in the middle of your own personal love triangle. Aundrea is smitten with you and Trilby is smitten with you.”

“No.”

“Yeah. What’s more,” Greg speared a couple of sausages. “the war that’s threatening to break out over there means that folks have taken sides.”

“Wow.”

“You really know how to nutshell things, Jeb.” He slid the food to one side of his plate to make room for an enormous Belgian Waffle. “Do you see the raspberries?”

Jeb pointed to the bowls with the raspberry topping and the whipped cream. “So, what do I do?”

Greg covered a laugh with his free hand. “Do I look like Cupid to you, Jeb? That is definitely not my area of expertise.”

“So, all that talk about joy is just giving us the business?”

“Oh, that’s cold.” Greg laughed as he slathered raspberries on the waffle and dabbed whipped cream on the raspberries. “Save the knives for the steak and eggs, Jeb. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“Innocent bystander, he says.” Jeb looked over the buffet. “Look, Greg. You got me this far. Don’t bail on me now. I don’t get people. I had no idea that either of those ladies had more than a passing interest in me. I’m completely lost.”

Greg looked over the buffet to see if there was anything he could sneak onto the plate. He set it down to butter some toast. “And he plays the lost sheep card. It’s a bold move. We’ll see if it pans out.”

“You’re a riot, Pastor. What kind of joy am I getting out of starting a war over there?”

“None, of course. You’re not one for stirring the pot. You didn’t even know there was a pot. The lost sheep act isn’t going to save you from those women and their supporters.”

“So, what in the world am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Jeb, but I can’t keep piling stuff on this plate. They’re going to think I have a tapeworm when I get back.”

“Well, grab some eggs. I’m not ready to go back to ground zero.”

“Thanks. I believe I will. Did you promise them anything yet?”

“I told Aundrea that I wanted to speak with her about stuff after we were done here.”

“Not in front of Trilby, I hope.”

“No, she was in the ladies’ room with Marta.”

“What about Trilby coming over?”

“That was kind of open-ended. I had said I’d realized I was feeling lonesome lately.”

“That must have been like dropping a cat into a bag of freshly chopped catnip.”

“She did volunteer to come keep me company.”

“And you didn’t say any of that in front of Aundrea?”

“No, it was before she and Phyllis arrived.”

“Thank God. There may be hope for you yet. Can you grab me a cup of coffee?”

“How do you take it?”

“Right now, I need it strong and black. I’ll save the fancy stuff for the Zavijava.”

Jeb grabbed a mug and poured a cup of coffee. “So, what do I do?”

“Well, which one do you like better?”

“How can I possibly say? I don’t know either of them very well. I don’t know anybody very well except for my cousin, Brendan.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jeb. I hope you know that.” He looked past Jeb to see the storm clouds gathering over the table.

“I’m sorry, Greg. I just wanted to have some friends out for breakfast. It’s such a beautiful day and now…”

“It’s still a beautiful day, Jeb. We’ve just got to get through breakfast without getting you in the doghouse with either of those women. I’ll drive the conversation. I need you to spill something on your pants.”

“Spill something on my pants?”

“Not right away. Let me steer the conversation away from the danger zone. I’ll get everyone back into the holiday mood and you can tip something into your lap and bow out gracefully. I’ll cover your bill. Don’t worry about that.”

“Spill what?”

“How do you feel about grape juice?”

“Grape juice?”

“Yes, do you like purple grape juice?”

“It’s kind of sweet but I can grab some bacon and home fries to take the edge off. Why purple grape juice?”

“If you drop coffee on your lap, you might burn yourself. If you drop apple juice or orange juice on your lap, it will look like you wet yourself. Purple grape juice looks like a legitimate accidental beverage spill. I’m trying to protect you here. Okay?”

“And what about the girls?”

“If you have to bail because you spilled juice all over your pants, they’ll know that whatever arrangements they think you’ve made with them will have to wait. It’s perfect. Trust me.”

“Purple grape juice, here I come.” Jeb poured himself a tall glass and filled a plate with salty and savory foods to go with it. Greg nodded and they headed back to the table. ‘I sure hope this will wash out…’

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