it's the uncle of the groom

"Hey." The man was average height, graying hair and beard, wearing stylish glasses along with a burgundy V-neck sweater over a white shirt. He was in his late fifties or early sixties.

"Hi," Abbie said pleasantly. She began to turn back to head into the bathroom.

"Excuse me," the man said. "I -- never mind, I'm sorry."

Abbie stopped and smiled. "What is it?"

The man sighed deeply. He looked lost and perhaps a little sad. Then he chuckled a bit under his breath.

"Who would have thought that the friendliest person I'd meet today would be a young girl outside the bathroom, after the party was over." The man shook his head, still chuckling to himself.

Abbie was confused, but didn't want to be impolite. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Yes." He stood up straight, attempting to shake off whatever was bothering him. "Top tier." He took off his glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and cleaned his lenses.

"I'm Abbie," she said to him. "What's your name?"

He put his glasses back on and tucked the handkerchief into his pocket again. "Hello. I'm Darryl. Darryl Asbury. Of the once-Canadian-but-relocated-to-Minnesota Asburys. That was a while ago, of course." He looked around the hallway. "I left Minnesota myself just to come to this party. I mean, I left back in 1984, but I'm at this party now, so it's kind of the same thing. My nephew is getting married, you know."

"Really?" said Abbie. "Is your nephew ... Phil?" she asked slowly, wondering if there were possibly multiple pre-wedding parties at the country club that day.

"Yes!" said Darryl excitedly. "Phil. Great guy. His mom is great too. She's my sister, you know."

"I did not know that," said Abbie.

"Diane. She's only been married once, you know. Phil, zero times. Diane, once. Me, three times." Darryl let out a rather melodramatic sigh. "I met a guy today who has seven children. Can you imagine?"

Abbie smiled, but furrowed her brow. The man seemed intriguing, but a little off-center. "Do you need anything?" Abbie said.

"Oh, nothing a basic time machine couldn't fix. Go back, not fuck up marriages to three now-ex-wives, you know. The usual."

Abbie giggled. "Sorry to laugh -- you're funny. But maybe that wasn't meant to be a joke?"

Darryl waved her off. "Of course it's a joke. I mean, unless you actually do have a time machine."

"I wish!" said Abbie. "That would be amazing."

"Would you also go back and undo problems with three ex-wives? Whoa, if you have three ex-wives at your age, this planet is doomed."

Abbie giggled again. "I don't have any ex-wives!"

"Ah! There's hope for you yet," muttered Darryl. "Don't do it. It's a terrible idea. I mean -- look at me."

"You look okay to me," said Abbie.

"Do I really?"

"Sure," said Abbie.

"Well, what do you know. You really are the friendliest person I've met today."

Abbie smiled. "Oh, surely there have been plenty of friendly people at the party today. I talked to a whole bunch, everyone seemed really nice."

"Yes, yes of course," said Darryl. "I just ..." He let out another sigh. "It was kind of overwhelming, you know?"

Abbie nodded. "It was a lot of people."

"It was a hell of a lot of people." Darryl leaned against the wall. "And I don't know, but looking at everyone, especially the younger folks, looking at Staci and Phil and all their friends and sisters and brothers, and looking at -- you were probably there too, weren't you -- and so much potential, so much hope, so much optimism, and I'm just ... old, and looking at all these vibrant young people who have their whole lives ahead of them, and meanwhile I just ... I just retired after thirty-eight years of teaching geometry, and you think, what on earth does a 62-year-old former geometry teacher have to offer anyone anymore ... and I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I probably sound kind of pathetic, but it was hard, you know? Hard to look at all these folks who haven't ever taught geometry or done anything for even thirty-eight days, let alone thirty-eight years, and they have such a good attitude about it all -- you know, people like Staci and people like Phil -- he's my nephew, you know that? His mother Diane is my baby sister. But I just fucked it up too many times over the years. Probably had my best shot way back when I was ... oh, no, not even then, I was never gonna marry that girl, I knew I wasn't good enough for her. But you know, you know, you know, you look around, and you see people who are so alive and vibrant and you want to say, you want to tell them to watch out and not fuck it all up, because the next thing you know, you're a 62-year-old geometry teacher with three ex-wives and you don't even know how to talk to anyone anymore. It's like, it's like ... it's like you finally let your guard down and open up to someone, and you wind up rambling and spewing all this crap about whatever, and the poor girl is just wondering when the fuck you're going to shut up and go away."

He took a long sigh, catching his breath.

"I mean, that is what you're wondering, isn't it? You're smiling and you're pleasant and you're polite and you have to be wondering what the hell went wrong in your life that you got dealt this weirdo hand of talking to a half-drunk stranger in a hallway outside the men's room."

He looked around, and noticed the other bathroom door. "I guess there's a women's room too. But it's not like you're looking at a guy like me and thinking, 'wow, now there's a catch,' you know? I know. I know, I know. I'm not a catch, I'm not anything. Just a geometry teacher. And I'm not even that anymore. Did I tell you I retired? Just this past spring. And you know what I've done with my retirement? Nothing. Not a thing. Actually, that's not true. I've been learning to cook. I never knew how to cook anything, so I'm learning to cook. Isn't that nice?" He paused and stared at Abbie through squinted eyes. "Tell me the truth, do you really want to be here right now listening to me blather on?"

Abbie chuckled, then opened up into a bigger laugh.

"Sure, laugh. I'm laughable. I get it. It's fine." Darryl laughed a little to himself.

"Actually," said Abbie. "I am enjoying listening to you."

"Oh please," said Darryl. "I'm a fucking weirdo. You couldn't possibly be the least bit interested, could you?"

"Sure I could," said Abbie. "Why not?"

"Why not?" repeated Darryl. "Do you want a list of reasons why not? No, never mind. I'm not going to give you one." He stopped again and looked at Abbie. "You really are just standing there. Not leaving." He got more serious. "You actually are just ... listening to me?"

"Yup," said Abbie.

"Why?"

Abbie looked at him for a moment and then answered. "I think you just need someone to listen to you for a minute."