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“Geez, Louise,” Poppy said to Daisy. “Give yourself a break. It’s your fecking wedding day.” It was the second time Daisy had asked a question about the food for the evening reception party since we’d arrived in Daisy’s apartment.
“I never got to invite anyone,” my wife complained, after Poppy walked away.
“Yep, you did. Only you didn’t know anything about it,” Belle said.
“Who did you all invite?” Daisy asked, frowning.
“All my flatmates from London, all Poppy’s too. Let me see … our friends from here. And…” She tapped her fingers against her lips like she was deep in thought, and I saw a wicked glint in her eye. “Then there are all your ex-boyfriends, Maria and Frances of course and all your other girlfriends… oh, Archie, Seamus and Ronan as well. Jamie only wanted his family and bandmates, their wives, and girlfriends.
“Archie, Seamus and Ronan?” she repeated, and her face softened. Daisy had a special place in her heart for those three old regulars from her bar. “How many in total?” she responded, ignoring the ex-boyfriends comment Belle had slipped in to goad her sister.
“Twenty-six for the meal and a hundred and twenty in the evening… well that’s how many are invited. But who knows what could happen if word gets out that Jamie and the band are all here.”
“And what’s the entertainment for later?” Daisy asked.
“What else? We’re having a Ceilidh of course,” I chimed in. “What do you want to dance to, baby?”
“Did last New Year’s not teach you anything?” Daisy asked, chuckling because it was a wild New Year’s party.
“It taught me I need to keep a closer eye on my sister with your horny barman, Terry.”
“Oh. My. God. Right!” she exclaimed. “They haven’t seen one another since the New Year’s party?”
“Not in the flesh,” Nick chipped in, coming over to join the conversation. “But I’m sure I’ve heard them sexting.”
“Fuck, Nick, that’s gross,” I chipped in, to the image he’d lodged in my head about my sister.
“I know, at her age as well,” he mock judged, and shook his head in disgrace.
“I meant you listening,” I joked. “You need to find a woman to hang with. Only a loser would live vicariously through their mother,” I joked.
“Unc, you’re a sick man,” Nick retorted, frowning as he tried not to laugh. “That’s your sister you’re talking about.”
“And your mother,” I countered with a wink.
“And you’re both in bad taste talking about Catrina like this,” Daisy remarked, putting us both in our place.
“Your Auntie Daisy’s right. Drop the eavesdropping and spreading rumors about your mom and Terry sexting.”
Nick squinted at Daisy. “I have one hot auntie…” but before he could finish what he was saying Catrina chimed in.
“Nicolas, that is a lie. We do not sext. What the hell are you going around telling people? What you heard that night was Terry with a cold. His chest was wheezy, that’s all.”
“Yeah, mom, you said that at the time and here we are almost six months later and you’re still protesting his innocence… and he’s had that wheeze more than once. You know what they say about those that protest too much,” he replied with a wink. Catrina swiped him upside the head and Nick backed away with his arms in the air. “I’m out of here. I think Ryan needs a hand with something,” he muttered.
“Believe me, there are things Ryan doesn’t need a hand with from anyone,” Belle replied in another double entendre.
Daisy’s eyes flared at her sister’s remark. “Bejesus, there’s something in the water with all this fecking hormonal honesty flying around.” I chuckled and slipped an arm around her waist. Belle and Catrina followed Nick downstairs leaving Daisy and I alone.
“Talking about hormones,” I whispered close to her ear. “Mine are running rampant looking at you in this dress. Is it bad I want to dirty it?”
“Jamie, you were born wanting to dirty things,” Daisy replied dryly.
“I think my wife knows me too well,” I teased as I drew her closer for a kiss.
“But I love that you want to dirty my dress,” she whispered back, as her eyes glittered with mischief.
“You know what I think, Mrs. Fontaine?” I muttered close to her ear.
