“I ask your indulgence because I’m going to start my remarks by quoting Aristotle. Especially yours, Penelope. And Alexa.” George tipped his head to Penny and her mother, who both smiled and nodded. This was the sort of spotlight for which a man like George Blakeman was uniquely qualified, having grown up in a pretentious family where toasts were common at holidays or special occasions or Tuesday night supper. George carried on the tradition by nabbing prizes for public speaking at school. He often stood at his dining club in college to give a welcome speech. And during his professional life, the partners always let him give a rousing victory hurrah at the annual sales meeting, the only task he was truly superior in executing. For George, any day could be his personal St. Crispin’s Day and he was going to savor the moment.

“Abigail, Sarah, and I welcome you to this humble gathering for our star couple, Penny and Chase. Aristotle wrote, ‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ And now that you’ve all had a chance to meet Penny and to see our son and his future bride together, you understand why that is the quote I chose to start with. To Penny and her mother, Alexa, we welcome you into our family and we are honored to be connected with yours. Love gives us the extraordinary gift of expanding our world in so many ways. And now we can say that we have family in California and Greece. And you can claim a branch here in Fair Harbor. We’re all the bigger for their love. To Chase, your mother and I are proud of all you’ve accomplished in your work life. But your choice of a life mate in Penny will count as your greatest accomplishment. Well done. So, if you please, lift your glass to Penny and Chase—two bodies, one soul—and their bright future. Yiamas!”

The crowd roared back in various versions of the traditional Greek toast. Abigail beamed at her husband, joining him at the front of the crowd. He surprised her sometimes with his confidence. You would never know from looking at George, in his blue blazer and the green gingham tie from his own wedding, that their world was collapsing around them, both in terms of their personal finances and place in society. Fewer and fewer people cared about the opinions of a man like George Blakeman, too old, too pale, and too privileged. But on this day, he was triumphant as lord of the manor. Even in the presence of a real British lord.

Suddenly there was a blast of three boat horns and the distinct booming of an amplified accented voice. “Ahoy, Blakemans! Can I get a wee hand?”