The Hangover: Part IV

Meeting with the priest was surprisingly not as nerve-wracking as Phil had thought it'd be considering he wasn't Catholic, Sam was raised in a household with both Catholic and Jewish faiths, and neither of them were religious. What he had thought to be quite amazing was that out of their love for each other, Sam's mother and father attended religious services together at their respective houses of worship. Saturday evening they went to temple, Sunday morning they went to mass. Phil couldn't help but respect that level of compromise and devotion. Even though Phil and Sam were going with a Catholic-based ceremony, they would be tying in Jewish elements of the Chuppah, or wedding canopy, and of The Breaking of the Glass. The one thing Phil had mostly been concerned about was with most church weddings, the bride and groom have to meet with the priest or pastor several times. However, with the ceremony taking place in Ibiza there was no way the two of them would've been able to afford to fly back and forth over the last six months for the typical classes. Fortunately for them, and thanks to Sam's mother Colleen, she was able to ask a favor of her church's priest to marry the pair. Sam's parents were even paying for the priest's plane fair and hotel stay, and the priest, Father Carmichael. He remembered Sam from when she was younger. He had, in fact, been one of the younger priests at the time of Sam's first communion many a moon ago.

After their meeting which had been just the two of them with Father Carmichael, Phil and Sam had walked into one of the hotel's restaurants where her parents had reserved half the place for everyone in the wedding party along with close friends and family who had flown in for the wedding in two days' time.

Phil looked devilishly handsome as usual, dressed in a pair of black dress slacks with matching black dinner jacket over a blue silk dress shirt. His hair was slicked back naturally, and without the need for product and he was clean shaven. As they approached the restaurant together, Phil looked down at Sam who looked, to him, incredibly sexy in a strapless black dress that had some slight ruffle to the bottom of it. It reminded him of the pink dress she wore in New York when they were searching for Doug and Amanda, just in black and this fit her better. She had flattened her hair with a straightening iron but the heat was already starting to cause the ends to curl slightly, just as his hair seemed to naturally curl at the ends.

When they entered the restaurant and joined everyone, their guests clapped or clinked their glasses with their spoons. They took their seat at the head of the three, wide rectangular tables that had been put together for everyone in attendance. Immediately kitty corner to Phil was Stu, his best man. He was chosen over Doug simply because of Sam's connection to him, having been his hygienist for the last five years. Lauren, of course, sat beside her husband with the exception of a high chair between them for Henry to make sure he stayed put during dinner. Doug and Tracy were next, with their daughters also between them; Sarah sitting in on a booster seat and Megan also in a high chair. Alan sat beside Tracy, his eyes constantly migrating toward Phil and Sam. On Alan's left was Eli, then Penny and Phil's dad. At the opposite end of the table from Phil and Sam sat both their mothers; Phil's mom kitty corner to his father, and Colleen next to her. Kitty corner to Colleen was Sam's dad, Dr. Ira Simmons, followed by Father Carmichael, Sam's friends Yolanda and Sean, and then her sister-in-law Emily. At Emily's left and kitty corner to the right of Sam, was Amanda, also the matron of honor.

This wasn't all the people who would be attending the wedding, but it was those immediately involved with it and this dinner was for them to celebrate the bride and groom before the wedding.

"I'd like to make a toast," Colleen announced, halfway during dinner. She stood up with her glass of wine and looked down the table at her daughter and future son-in-law. "I know I have never been the easiest mother," she began which garnered a look from Sam that said, Gee, no kidding. "My husband and I always wanted the best for our girls. We wanted them to not only shoot for the stars but to shoot for new galaxies." Colleen focused on Sam. "As soon as my Samantha graduated high school, she sought out her new galaxy and it happened to be Los Angeles, some two and a half thousand miles away. She was our explorer, our adventurer. She had her own ideas and plans for her life that we never saw coming. We wanted her to go to NYU, she went to USC. We hoped she'd become a doctor, she became a dental hygienist..."

Sam's smile began to become slightly forced. She was loathing where her mother might be going with all this. Phil could sense the tension oozing from her and grabbed her hand on the table and gave an assuring squeeze.

"She's tough and strong and beautiful. She might not like to admit to it," Colleen continued, taking her eyes off of Sam to glance around at everyone around the table, "but she is just like me. It was expected of me to marry a good, Irish Catholic boy from the neighborhood and to be doting housewife, seen and not heard. But instead I married myself an amazing Jewish man and I forged a successful career for myself as a psychiatrist. And this amazing man and I," she looked down at her husband, touching his shoulder, "created not one, but two amazing daughters. And in two days, my eldest amazing daughter will start a new adventure of her own as she marries a man who sees her for the amazing creature she is now, has been and will be for many years to come."

Phil looked at Sam and saw she had tears rolling down her face and was brushing them away with her right hand as soon as they appeared. He gave her left hand another squeeze.

"To Samantha and Phil," Colleen cheered, raising her glass a little higher, signalling the clinking of glasses.

Phil gave a nod of his head to the older woman and then turned to look at Sam once more who was now looking at him as well. They came together in a kiss and smirked, touching their foreheads together for a moment afterward. As Colleen sat back down, Stu stood up and all eyes were on him as he held his own glass of wine out.

"I think I should say something, too," he began just as he noticed Alan standing up out the corner of his eye. He made eye contact with the portly man who was wearing a white and dark blue, hemp poncho. "Alan, no." Alan frowned and sat back down, allowing Stu to turn back to his two friends. He smiled upon Phil and Sam and gestured Colleen with his wine glass. "That's a pretty hard speech to follow and I know I'll be making one on Sunday at your wedding reception, but I need the two of you to know that, despite everything we've been through in the past, be it childhood memories of the mischief we made while we were boys together, or as recently as two years ago in New York City and the events which shall not be specified, to protect those involved," he commented with a smirk, which garnered the same reaction from the engaged couple. "No matter what we've done or haven't done or have left to do in this lifetime, you're my friends, and I look forward to seeing all our lives blossoming together. We may not be related by blood, but you're my brother, my sister...you're my family. I love you both and I wish you both the best of everything. Cheers."

Everyone clinked their glasses a second time. Phil leaned over and gave Stu a slap to the shoulder as a way of saying thanks for the kind words, just as Alan stood up again.

"Can I just add something?"

Stu gave a wave of his hand as he sat down. Lauren met his eye and touched his arm, knowing how Alan tended to get under her husband's skin at times.

"I know I made my own speech on Monday, but I just wanted to say thank you for letting me be apart of your wedding. I know I can be weird and I tend to fudge things up when we're all together. I mean well, I really do."

"We know you do, buddy," Phil assured.

"I'm just so happy you wanted me as a groomsman and I think this hotel is the bee's knees. Also, Sam, I know you're thirty-five and you're not exactly a spring chicken anymore, but I hope your marriage to Phil is fruitful and you can bear him some more children because they would be very cute kids." Alan moved to sit back down as Doug facepalmed, though chuckling a bit. Stu knitted his brow together but really wasn't surprised by what Alan had said at all. It was just such an Alan thing to do.

"I'll try my best," Sam replied as Alan began to stand up again.

"Also, if Phil puts a baby in you, I would be available for babysitting and I wouldn't charge."

Phil let out a laugh but tried to cover it as a cough as he brought his wine glass to his lips. "That's sweet of you to offer. We'll keep you in mind."



After dinner ended, it was followed by a few cocktails on the veranda outside the restaurant that led out to a freshwater pool. Phil and Sam, Doug and Tracy, Stu and Lauren, Amanda and Emily, Yolanda and Sean, and Alan all stood around discussing where they were going to head to for the Jack and Jill party. Meanwhile, Phil's parents, who had known both Doug and Stu since they were boys with their son, had agreed to watch all the kids and make sure they got to bed. Mr. Wenneck was going to stay with his grandchildren in Phil and Sam's suite while Mrs. Wenneck was going to keep an eye on Sarah, Megan and Henry in Doug and Tracy's room.

The sun was starting to set in the sky across the bay. Further out across the sea, too far away for them to sea, was the east coast of Spain, but what they could see was the magnificent sunset Alan had read about in the pamphlet he'd picked up that morning from the reception desk. Phil, Doug, Stu and Amanda pulled their significant other closer as the sun began to disappear below the horizon, casting an array of deep shades of reds and oranges across the sky.

"That is the most beautiful thing ever," Tracy cooed.

"Second most," Doug replied, kissing her temple.

The friends looked among each other and finished off their drinks.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road," Phil announced, clapping his hands together.



An hour later the group was walking together down the hill of San Antonio's West End, looking for a bar to head into for drinks and some dancing.

"How come some of these places aren't even open?" Stu wondered, looking around him.

Alan pulled his pamphlet out again. "Popular bars include Viva, Hush, Koppas, Soul City, Acanthus, Funky Flares, and Tropicanas. The West End's bars are open seven days a week from May through to the end of September, with a limited number of bars open throughout the week in April and October," he read. He looked up from his pamphlet and pointed to some people heading into a bar. "Let's go in there," he pointed to Hush, one of the bars listed in his pamphlet.

"As long as we can get our drink on, I don't really give a shit," Phil muttered. He placed his hand on the small of Sam's back as they walked in.

They headed toward the bar first which was slightly crowded. Music was pumping from a DJ spinning the tunes. Phil approached the bar with the guys while the girls all seemed to hang back talking among themselves.

"I think we should start out with shots first," Doug announced.

Phil grinned and pointed at his friend. "That's what I'm talking about," he remarked, trying to wave down one of the bartenders. He then looked over his shoulder to Sam. "Babe, you got my wallet?"

Sam opened up her clutch purse and nodded. "Yeah," she answered handing if over to him. "See if they have any Southern Comfort if we're doing shots."

Phil chuckled and nudged Doug. "SoCo, right off the bat...I love her."

Doug snickered and looked over at Alan who was leaning on the bar, looking confused. "What's wrong, Alan?"

"I was wondering if they had cheese sticks here. I have the taste for them."

"Um...hola, can I get some assistance down here?" Phil called out like a jackass.

Stu rolled his eyes. "Perdóneme, señor!" he shouted in Spanish.

Phil just gave him a look. "You, too?"

"Phil, we're on a Spanish island off the coast of Spain. The people here speak predominantly Spanish. It helps to know a few phrases. No different than expecting people coming to the States to speak English."

It worked, however. A bartender walked over to the guys. "Hola...qué puedo hacer que usted beber?"

Stu was stumped then. He wasn't fluent in Spanish. "Uh...shots?"

The bartender smiled and nodded. "Ahh, Americano?"

Stu nodded. "Si."

"What shots you want?"

"Southern Comfort, por favor."

The bartender smiled again. Perhaps he was pleased at Stu's attempt to bridge the gap with the language barrier or by not being a typical tourist who only spoke their native language instead of the local one. "Por supuesto...how many?"

Phil turned around to count heads. "Uh...eleven," he replied, flashing all ten of his fingers and then one finger.

Eleven plastic shot glasses were lined up and the bartender poured the amber liquid into each shot glass in one sweeping motion. As Phil went to hand over his credit card, Stu stopped him.

"It's your Jack and Jill. I got this," Stu insisted.

Phil shrugged. "Sounds good to me." He slipped his credit card back into his wallet and then put it in his pocket. He was no longer wearing the dress jacket from dinner, having decided to leave it back at the hotel before they left. They guys had all seemed to have done the same, except for Alan who was still in his poncho.

"Can I start a tab?" Stu inquired, hoping the bartender understood what he meant.

Unfortunately the bartender seemed a little lost, so Phil stepped back and tapped Sam on the shoulder and gestured for her to translate. "You seem to be the fluent one, tell him Stu wants to start a tab."

Sam gave Phil a withering look and glanced at the bartender with a smile. "Hola. Puede iniciar una pestaña?"

The bartender nodded and smiled appreciatively. "Si, si. Gracias por hablar en Español. Mi Inglés no es muy bueno."

Sam waved the bartender's comment off. "No es ningún problema. Pasé un verano en Madrid, cuando estaba en la universidad. No te preocupes por mi novio, él es ignorante a veces," she spoke fluently, gesturing to Phil who looked at her with a questioning stare. The bartender just let out a good laugh.

"What did you just say?" Phil asked her.

"Oh nothing you need to worry your pretty, little head over," she teased, helping him hand out the shots to their friends.

One everyone had shot glass in their hands, they held them up and cheered, then downed them. Stu 'wooed' and slammed his shot glass back on the counter, gesturing to the bartender for another.

Phil laughed when he noticed some guys they didn't know at the bar, with some sort of bright green drink being poured over what looked to be sugar cube on some sort of strainer. "Hey, what's that?"

Stu, Doug and Sam's friend Sean followed Phil's gaze, but it was Sean who spoke up. "I think that's absinthe."

"Isn't that the drink from the movie EuroTrip?" Alan questioned. When he got blank stares, he added, "Or Moulin Rouge? Those were fantastic movies. Didn't any of you see them? Especially Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor totally should've been nominated for an Oscar for that one."

"I've seen Moulin Rouge, and I agree. I totally shunned the Academy when they passed over Ewan over for a nom," Sean commented, looking at Alan.

Alan just stared at him, practically glaring at the gay male. "What's this have to do with a school? I'm talking about movies."

Knitting his brow together, Sean just looked away. "Right..."

Stu giggled. "Don't mind Alan. He's not always as up to speed as the rest of us," he spoke into Sean's ear so Alan wouldn't overhear.

"I say we try some of that," Phil said, ignoring the banter and pointing to the absinthe the other guys were drinking.

"Isn't absinthe supposed to be illegal in, like...every country?" Stu questioned, seeming uncertain. "Not to mention...hallucinogenic," Stu stressed, trying to allude to their last foray with LSD in New York.

"It's actually become legal since the late nineties because the whole hallucinogenic claims were being disproved," Alan remarked.

Of course he would know that.

"Perfect!" Phil exclaimed happily to which Stu flashed Doug a nervous gaze. "Bar man! Absinthe, por favor!"

The bartender moved away from the men he was finishing up with and returned to Phil and the guys while the girls began to return their focus to them, curious about what they were going on about.

"Absinthe?" Amanda asked, warily.

"Once absentas?" the bartender questioned.

"What's once?" Doug wondered.

"Eleven," Sam replied.

"Oh."

"Yes, once," Phil confirmed to the bartender.

"I dunno about this, Phil." Stu was looking over at the bartender putting out eleven full sized glasses and making drinks in all of them.

"Relax, Alan said it's not supposed to be hallucinogenic."

"And we're relying on Alan's word?"

"Sure," Phil shrugged. "Alan's full of random information that ends up being surprisingly helpful."

"But what if we get crazy?"

"That's what the girls are here for, to reel us in and babysit our asses."

"Yeah, but we're all about to drink absinthe. Even the girls."

"Well, we'll only do this one drink of absinthe and then we'll dance it off, okay?" Phil stared Stu down, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's my Jack and Jill and I say it's okay." Phil was bumped suddenly and he looked to his left at Sam who was frowning up at him.

"It's my party too, jackhole." She turned her green eyes upon Stu. "It's okay, Stu. One drink isn't going to kill us."

"Yeah, see? We'll be fine. How much more assurance do you need?"

The drinks were soon made and once again everyone was being handed one. Despite the excitement of imbibing this drink that spent almost a century being banned in many countries, everyone was a little apprehensive at the same time.

"On the count of three?" Phil remarked as more of a question.

They held their drinks up.

"One," Doug announced.

"Two," Tracy added.

At once, they all shouted, "Three!"

Clinking their glasses all together, they brought them to their lips and let the sweet, green spirit pass down their throats.