Page 43 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

The Horseman, known as Death, took a bow.

“How do you like your hair, gal pal?” Fred asked, excitedly bouncing on his stiletto-clad toes.

Fred had spent even more time on my wild, curly, dark hair. He’d swept it into an up-do, finishing the style with wispy tendrils that framed my face. After, he’d woven in sparkling crystals that shimmered and peeked out from underneath my curls.

“I feel like a princess,” I whispered, squeezing his hand.

Fred preened then danced around the room, flapping his long muscular arms like he was a chicken.

“Ohhhhhhh, you’re bad,” Dirk shouted at Fred. “Don’t give her any hints about the extravaganza yet.”

Fred’s peal of laughter made me laugh. Of course, I had no clue as to why. What kind of hint was a dancing chicken? Did they buy—or rather steal—a chicken coop for me? Shit. That would suck. That couldn’t be the reason for a party.

“It’s fine,” I told Dirk. “I don’t understand the clue.”

“Not to worry,” Carl said, running to my closet. “You will soon.”

“You know, darling,” Fred announced as he sat down at the vanity next to me and reapplied his lipstick. “I’m feeling quite punny on this fine day. Shall we have some pun?”

“You mean fun?” I asked, in awe of his lipstick prowess.

“Nope,” he said with a wink. “I mean pun.”

“Oh yes!” Carl yelled from my closet. “It’s a punderful life, and I say we celebrate it.”

I groaned. They laughed and kept going.

“It’s quite a difficult pun-dertaking, but I’m up for it,” Dirk said with a wicked chuckle. “However, this is the pun-house.”

My second groan was louder, and it only served to egg them on.

“I’ve got one,” Carl said, popping his head out of the closet. “What’s the best part of a wedding?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “The reception. It usually takes the cake!”

“Nice,” Wally told his fellow Horseman. “Did you know the lucky couple that hired a fabu vegetarian DJ for the reception? It was because he could really turnip the beets!”

Dirk plopped down on the bed and grinned at me. “I heard the couple were both pianists. They were always in a chord.”

I squinted at him. I might be wrong, but I thought I was catching on. However, not a word left my lips. It would be mortifying if I was incorrect.

“If we’re talking music…” Wally watched me carefully. The nutbag was cheesing from ear to ear. “When the famous musician proposed to the love of his life, he did it with a kneel diamond.”

My mouth fell open. I was positive I was onto them, but still too terrified to say it.

The puns were flying fast and furious.

“I heard the dentist had strong fillings for his new spouse,” Carl said.

Wally jumped in. “For butter or worse! A toast to the newlyweds!”

“I hear vampire weddings really suck,” Dirk added with a waggle of his brows.

“Yes, well,” Fred said with a shimmy and a jazz square. “Marrying in July is very brave, for the personal trainer couple, but what can you expect from sweat-hearts?”

Carl would not be outdone. “Now that they’re married, they’re both footloose and fiancé free!”

I realized I was trembling. Not from fear, but with excitement. “Wait. Stop. I want to take a guess.”

“It’s about time, Girlfriend,” Wally said.

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