East Meets West: Brad and Elly get married

Elly’s parents and older brother arrived at San Francisco International Airport from Okayama, Japan to their daughter and sister get married. On their wedding day, Brad went up to their room at a nearby Marriott, and Elly introduced them as Otosan and Okasan, which meant Father and Mother. They bowed politely and spoke in Japanese which Elly translated. Okasan was bent over, leaned on a cane with one arm, and gave Brad a kind smile. Otosan stood rigidly, eyes like coals burning through thick black framed glasses, supporting his wife by her other arm. They were slightly shorter than Elly’s 5’ 3” and almost as petite. The brother shook Brad’s hand, and they made their way to the parking lot where they all fit nicely into his black Nissan Xterra.

Brad made small talk during their drive “Otosan, what do you think of the U.S. so far?” Elly translated.

“Oki desu ne!” he said, meaning, it is big! They arrived early at the wedding hall, which gave Okasan time to hobble around and sniff the gorgeous displays of flowers that Elly had selected. Tables with white cloth, opened bottles of wine, and bow-tied servers stocking a long buffet with Japanese and American cuisine made an elegant atmosphere.

The minister arrived, chatted with the newlyweds in a small side room, then met the rest of the Yamashita family. Otosan was very respectful, bowing twice. They took the seats that were reserved for them in the front row seats, near the flowery gazebo at one end of the great room. The couple went to stand in their places by the minister.

“You’re not starting without us!” a voice boomed from across the hall. A tall grey-haired man ushered in Brad’s mother, Natalie, who was shortened and bent from spinal osteoporosis.. It was brother Glen. Brad steeled for a disturbance. Natalie was dolled up in her best lavender dress, huffing from the exertion, and the two took seats in the back row. Brother Jeffrey and wife, and several of Elly’s and Brad’s friends were already seated.

“Friends and family,” began the minister, “we begin by asking for God’s blessing…”

“Don’t bring God into this!” Glen’s voice rang out from the back row. Natalie put a hand on his shoulder and said something in his ear. “Oops, sorry everyone, I’m an atheist.”

The holy man went on, and wedding vows were exchanged. He handed them their rings which they donned, and introduced Mr. and Mrs. Rosedale to the audience.

Cheers, applause, and Glen’s thunderous “YEAH!,” filled the air. The people left their seats to line up at the buffet, and the newlyweds stood in the arch of the lovely gazebo for photos. Otosan beamed proudly next to his gorgeous daughter in her white wedding dress. Brad thought he looked odd standing so bolt upright, like a military commander.

Glen staked out a table and announced “Rosedales over here!” Then he took Natalie to the front of the buffet line. “Excuse me! Groom’s mother goes first!” Guests backed away to avoid getting struck by the big man’s elbow, and Glen grabbed plates for himself and Natalie. Then he went ahead and piled food on his plate, leaving Natalie to pick her way slowly through the variety of foods while the line backed up halfway around the tables.

Aromas wafted up to the hungry wedding guest that would please carnivores and vegetarians. Prime rib, sautéed mushrooms, Japanese curried fish, handmade sushi rolls, and mixed season vegetables were offered, and more. Brad spared no expense on the meal selection, as if it would cure the trauma of childhood hunger the Rosedale brothers had known.

Elly broke through the line and fixed a small plate of sushi for her parents who had moved to a table due to Okasan’s difficulty navigating the crowd. It past their normal mealtime and Otosan got mean when he was hungry. Across the Pacific ocean, away from his roots in Okayama, he would never show it. But Elly wasn’t taking a chance.

“Hey Brad! There’s a problem.” It was brother Sam. “Bob locked himself in a room and won’t come out. I think him and Darla got into it, they arrived late and she was holding a rag over her eye.”

“What can I do? It’s my wedding bro! Do me a favor, get security.” Here comes the family drama,  thought Brad. He looked for Elly, who was busy with some of her guests.

“Dude, it’s our brother!” said Sam. “Would you go talk to him? He’ll listen to you, you’re the oldest.” He turned the beer bottle bottoms up and finished it off. “I need another one.” Then he left for the liquor table.

“My mother and I do not drink alcohol! I have been clean and sober for 18 years. Get that shit away from me!” Glen’s voice was so loud that everyone stopped and looked. “This is a nonalcoholic table now!” He declared.

Jeffrey and his wife got up. They could have complied with Glen’s alcohol ban, but it was a good excuse to get away from the most emotionally unstable of the brothers. “Sorry, Mom,” said Jeffrey, as they  left.

Sam and his wife weren’t about to stop drinking, and immediately moved to another table. Bob’s girl Darla was now wearing sunglasses to cover up her black eye; she got up and moved too.

Glen smirked in triumph, stretched his neck, and looked around like he owned the place. A server scurried around the table which now only had two guests, and took away the wine glasses and all bottles containing alcohol. White-knuckle sobriety, they called it. And after 18 years. No one could stand to be around him for more than a few minutes, except Natalie. But she had taken her share of abuse too.

The minister on his way out stopped and asked Brad, “Would you like me to talk to your brother?”

Which one? Brad almost asked. Instead he handed him a small roll of cash for his tip and said “My best advice is to get out while you can, Pastor. None of my family is going to change. ” They shook hands and the minister exited.

Brad went to find Sam, who was at the liquor table with a freshly opened bottle of Heineken. “Let’s go talk to Bob,” he said.

“I gave Bob a shot. It’s your turn, room 237.” Sam put his lips around the bottle and turned it upside down.

Brad went toward Jeffrey, who was seated with his wife at a table with several of Elly’s Japanese friends. He saw how they were being cordial with each other and enjoying the food with sips of wine. He took a detour. Enjoy yourself brother, he thought, even if I can’t.

He wondered about what had happened between Bob and Darla. He had looked at the girl’s eye and there was nothing more than a bad bruise that needed ice. She said it happened from hitting the car door on her way in. That sounded far-fetched but despite the nasty fights their parents would get into while they were growing up, the Rosedale brothers had never  been  known to hit women.

He arrived at room 237. “This is Brad, open the door Bob.” He knocked for several minutes. “Bob!” There was no answer, so he threatened to get the manager.

“F–ck you….I’ll be right down,” came the reply. The older brother went back to his wedding reception and updated Sam. They were smart to keep Glen out of it, to avoid a predictably bad scene.

Soon enough, Bob staggered into the reception looking like he had cleaned out the mini-bar. Brad rushed over to keep him away from their guests, and Elly brought some coffee.

“That f–kin’ bitch,” said Bob. “She’s killin’ me.” He went on, but the words were slurred and nonsensical. Darla made no effort to come over.  They decided he should go back to the room and sleep it off. Then Sam came over.

“What the hell Bob, are you trying to ruin our brother’s wedding, or what?” Sam was carrying another bottle of beer, it would have been at least six by now, but he could hold his liquor. Sam told Bob where he should go, and the conversation heated up. Bob waved his arms, and knocked over a bottle of wine which poured out on the white tablecloth, looking like a streak of blood. Fortunately, no blood would be shed at the wedding today.

Brad jumped in, “Guys, hey! Glen’s over there, if he sees you acting drunk it’s all over.” The threat registered. Nobody wanted to see Glen go nuts and endure the fallout from it: Police, ambulance medics, emergency room visits, an arrest or two.

“Sorry, brother,” Sam said. “I’ll handle this.” From somewhere deep inside surfaced some goodness. Sam stuffed the macho act and took Bob back to room 237 where the blurry eyed brother passed out for the rest of the evening.

The Yamashitas sat politely at their table, and Elly attended to them. Guests were milling around, gathering their things, and leaving earlier than expected. Glen had told a horrible crack addict recovery story which had someone crying.

The unruly Rosedale family was a hard contrast of cultures to the orderly Yamashitas. Brad marveled at what lied behind the destinies that had brought he and Elly together.