Drop Dead.

Our wedding planner, a forty-something divorcee named Marcy, picked me up from David and my apartment around two on a Saturday afternoon. She was taking me to pick out invitations and check up on the caterers. I suggested we shop for bridesmaid dresses, but since the only bridesmaid who would be in the wedding was Marcy, I didn’t see a point. However, as an afterthought, I bought a dress for Melanie. It was sitting in its box at the bottom of my closet, just waiting to be worn. Somehow, though, I figured the only purpose it would serve was to gather dust and eventually get thrown out.

It took us a whopping thirty minutes to pick out invitations and then we headed out for lunch. Marcy generously paid and we spent another hour or so after we’d eaten to discuss more plans.

“’ow many people are yeh invitin’?” she asked me as she stirred her iced tea. I pursed my lips and twirled my hair around my index finger idly. Sighing, I made an indecisive face and shrugged.

“David and I only want about a hundred, fifty each. Only close friends and family,” I responded absent-mindedly. All of this wedding planning was really taking a toll on my stress level and I found I was more tired than ever. Marcy had plans to go speak to the caterers, but really, all I wanted to do was go back to the apartment and sleep until tomorrow. She seemed to notice my distress.

“Yeh know, Char, we don’t ‘ave to do the caterin’ today. Yeh look like yeh really need some sleep,” she observed comfortingly. Smiling thankfully, I nodded, and we got up from the booth.

Marcy took me home and I promised her that we’d finish the catering some time next week. David was on the couch when I walked in and we smiled brightly at each other. Even months after being with him, his smile still made my heart skip a beat. I sank next to him on the couch after pulling off my shoes and immediately his arm pulled me into his side.

“Pick up the invitations?” he asked, kissing my temple lovingly. I nodded and tucked my head underneath his chin, watching whatever show was playing on Spike.

“Yeah. We can fill them out and mail them out some time next week,” I added, a yawn escaping my lips. David chuckled and pulled me closer.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, love,” he said quietly. I shut my eyes for a brief moment and nodded once, yawning again. “Come on; let’s get you to bed then.”

I made a noise of protest and when David glanced at me, confused, I just pulled him down on the couch with me, lying so that he was behind me and my head was resting on his arm. His free arm wound around my stomach; David kissed the back of my neck a few times, making me giggle from the tickling sensation. We fooled around like that for a little while, until my exhaustion reared its ugly head and I finally yawned loudly. David chuckled and kissed my hair, ceasing his tickling and letting me fall asleep.

When I woke up about two hours later, a delicious aroma was wafting into the living room from the kitchen. Rubbing my eyes and sitting up, I took notice of the fact that David was no longer beside me. So I figured he was the cause of the smell that made my mouth water and stomach growl. I stood up and stretched, sighing contently when my back cracked, then sauntered into the kitchen. David was standing at the counter, chopping vegetables. I snuck up behind him and looped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek into his back. His back shook as he chuckled.

“Morning sleepyhead,” he greeted jokingly, turning his head to peck my lips. I hummed out a response and overlooked what was cooking on the stove.

“What are yeh making?” I asked him, breathing in deeply. My stomach growled again and I pressed a hand to it, as if it would silence it.

“Just an old Irish dish. Mom used to make it all the time,” he responded easily, returning to his chopping. I breathed in deeply again.

“It smells amazing.” He blushed slightly and I giggled, moving towards the fridge to pour us a couple glasses of red wine.

David and I hadn’t had a night like this for a while. A home-cooked meal followed by a movie in the living room and then off to the bedroom, where we wouldn’t actually sleep until about midnight. All the wedding planning had put our love life on hold, wearing us out until all we wanted to do with each other was fall asleep. I could only hope that a night like this would happen often after we were married.