The buzz of speakers filled the air as whoever was DJ took their place. “Well? What do you have to say?!” The Gwiffin’s voice had become downright clownish.
I did the only thing that seemed appropriate: I opened the nearest cooler, reached in, took a hard lemonade, popped the top, and said, “I guess you better catch up!”
That was all the party needed to get started. Music kicked in, and people started raiding coolers and food trays as if there were gold coins stacked upon them. I took a sip of the sweet booze in my hand, and draped my arm around Catherine’s shoulder. “You set this up?”
Bert answered for her. “Been planning it for weeks.” He slugged me in the shoulder and I didn’t even care. “Almost had ya there for a second, didn’t we?”