Love and All This

The olive fell off the toothpick onto which it had just been speared, and landed with a soft "plunk in Alison's martini.
"Thanks, she said, fishing it out and popping it into her mouth. I chewed on the end of my toothpick for a second, sucking out the absolute last of the gin from my own martini before tossing it onto the table beside the just-emptied glass.
"No problem, I told her. "I'm glad I have someone who'll always eat my olives; I hate the damn things.
"That's what friends are for, she promptly smart-assed, washing down said olive with the last of her drink. "Oh good, here she comes.
Erin was wending her way back toward us between dancing people and many small red-and-beige-cloth-covered tables, somehow keeping a hold on the three precariously balanced cocktail glasses in her hands. When she reached our corner and our own small red-and-beige-cloth-covered table, I stood up and took two of the glasses from her and she sat down.
"Oooh, cosmos, Alison noted the pink drink as I passed her one of the glasses. "Thanks, Erin.
"Yeah, good choice, I told her. Erin had volunteered to go to the bar and bring us back a surprise.
"Glad you agree, she answered, then sipped her drink and looked around the room. Then she wondered aloud the thing we'd all wondered aloud at least a hundred times that day: "Can you even believe it? For we were there at last, at the event that had been impending almost since we were sixteen years old: Kim's wedding to Peter. We were actually here, seven years later, at the reception, in our bridesmaids' dresses. We had witnessed the ceremony, made speeches, danced with so-and-so's roommate's cousin, and now we were stealing some time by ourselves; the three still-single members of the dream team. From our corner table I could see the back of the gleaming white dress of our Fourth Musketeer, quickly blocked out by black as her dad turned her around. Kim is facing us now, catches my eye over her dad's shoulder. "Are you guys drunk already? she mouths, but she's not mad, she's grinning.
"Of course not, I mouth back, only somewhat sarcastically. "Are you?
She laughs. "Maybe a little bit, and I know she's only somewhat sarcastic too. Alison and Erin have caught on now, Erin giggles while Alison mimes swigging exaggeratedly from an empty champagne bottle, causing Kim to crack up again. Then her dad hands her off to Peter, and the charade is over. The three of us in our red and beige corner (or, in wedding terms, the "apple and bisque corner) sipped pensively for a few seconds, during which time I realized that I've managed to slosh the remaining contents of my glass down my top. I reached across Alison to steal her napkin and was inwardly thanking God that our tops were black and therefore stain-resilient, when Erin spoke again.
"Are you guys afraid that this is it? That from now on it's going to be the three of us and her, never the four of us?
More to delay answering than because of the spill, I continued to dab at my top with the napkin. Alison seemed to have procrastination in mind as well; she swiped an open bottle of champagne from the next table and began pouring thoughtfully. But she's always been braver than me, and sure enough she spoke first.
"Yeah. I'm not going to lie. I really think that's the way it is now.
Abandoning the napkin and taking my cue, I voiced my own somewhat guilty thought. "Don't you think it's sort of always been that way? Erin lowered her champagne glass carefully while Alison tipped hers even further into her mouth. "I mean, I stumbled on, "that she's, you know, always had this serious boyfriend and we, well, haven't. I was gesturing with my now-empty glass, which Alison took the liberty of removing from my hand and replacing with the not-quite-empty champagne bottle. "And we, us three I mean, have always been sort of cynical about, like, love and all this, (I indicated our nuptial surroundings with the bottle) "and she's always been more of a believer in it. Which is quite possibly why we're drunk in the corner, and she's on the dance floor in white, I concluded, finally bowing to the inevitable and sipping directly from the champagne bottle in the ultimate display of class.
My head was buzzing and I felt slightly overheated, but I couldn't contribute it entirely to the alcohol. I'd suddenly felt more overwhelmed with emotion than I had at any point during the ceremony. Speaking the truth aloud made everything seem more real somehow, even though it could be argued that the certificate Kim and Peter signed made everything real too. Erin and Alison were still quiet, looking thoughtful. A decade of knowing them had taught me to know when they felt the same as I did, and I knew that they too were feeling the intense reality, which was far more unsteadying than anything we'd had to drink that day. Erin broke the silence.
"I guess she always has been kind of separated from us, like you said," she began. "But now, she's officially separated from us. Legally and otherwise, there's no going back."
Alison joined in. "And we knew it was coming. I mean, this is what happens when people get married. Things change; they have to. But you still..." She trailed off, searching for the words.
"Nothing can prepare you for it," I supplied, as Erin turned around and accepted another bottle of champagne from Kim's Uncle Mike, who was passing our table. "You know it's coming, but when it actually does, it still - "
"Knocks you on your ass," Erin finished, refilling all of our glasses from the fresh bottle. As she passed them around, the fourth chair at our table was suddenly obscured by an avalanche of wedding dress.
"Glad you guys are taking full advantage of the open bar," Kim teased, taking the champagne bottle from Erin. She started to reach for a glass, then shrugged, and took a swig right out of the bottle. "I am too. That's why I told my dad we had to have one. Looks like he's taking advantage of it too, because he's dancing with Uncle Mike right now. Erin, Alison and I laughed; except for the mass amounts of taffeta crowding the table, it was just like it used to be ' the four of us together in a gigglefest.
"Okay, Kim announced abruptly. "I'm the bride and I get to do what I want. And right now, I want a toast with my girls. We composed ourselves and reached for our glasses. (Alison had to get a new one, as she had spilled hers while laughing.) When we had ourselves together, Kim raised her bottle.
"To friendship! she declared.
"To the bride and groom, Erin offered.
"To love, pronounced Alison.
"To getting knocked on your ass, I rounded out. Three glasses and one bottle clinked together (with a reasonable amount of sloshing). We left them in our corner, where we knew we would return, as the four of us headed to the dance floor.