Page 62 of That Reunited Feeling

“Come on,” Hannah says. “Pick up your penis.”

“I could learn to dislike you, you know.” But I do, indeed, pick up the bendy pink rubber mold.

“Slide it in,” Bridesmaid #1 says to a peal of laughter as Katie puts hers in the fridge.

“Mine’s a tight fit, but I think I can squeeze it in,” says Bridesmaid #2.

Now they’re all laughing so hard they might be in danger of puking.

“Tom, Hannah. Don’t lurk at the back. Come on.” Delia beckons us toward the fridge and the gaggle of giggling, penis-headgear-wearing women.

“Do you always come last, Tom?” Maid of Honor asks as she cocks her hip and rests a hand on it.

The reaction is deafening.

Mother of the Bride throws her head back and howls. Katie leans on Bridesmaid #1’s shoulder as she doubles over. Bridesmaid #2 grabs her belly and cries, “Oh, too much,” while Mother of the Groom leans against the wall, her whole body rocking.

Hannah stops in her tracks, laughing. “Stop it, you guys.” She tries to focus on the chocolate mold she’s carrying. “Or my penis is going to slop everywhere.”

And they’re off again, all blocking my path so I can’t even get to the fridge.

“Tom,” Delia says, coming to my rescue and holding out her hand. “I’ll put it in for you.”

“Oh my God,” howls Mother of the Groom, as she slides down the wall till her backside hits the floor.

“Everyone has to stop,” Katie says, straightening her veil and wiping her tear-stained face. “I can’t breathe.”

“My stomach hurts,” Bridesmaid #2 says, gasping for air.

“Best. Bachelorette. Ever,” Bridesmaid #1 says between snorts.

I pass my mold to Delia with a quiet “Thank you,” only moderately confident that those words don’t contain some innuendo that’ll set them all off again.

Delia takes Hannah’s mold too, slides them both into the fridge, and takes out two more bottles of sparkling wine before closing the door.

“I’m delighted you’re all having such a good time,” she says. “I wanted Choc Full of Love to be a place of joy, and it looks like we’re managing that already.”

She pops open one of the bottles. “You can all enjoy another glass of fizz and browse the other goodies while we wait.”

“Is this really what women laugh about in private?” I ask Hannah, cupping my hand over my mouth. “Dick jokes?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes. Not usually in quite such a concentrated amount. But sometimes.”

“Here you go.” Delia arrives to top up our glasses. “Thank you for being great sports and joining in. Especially you, Tom.”

“It is quite the education. But I’m driving, so no more wine for me, thanks.” Which is a terrible shame because getting smashed is exactly what I could do with right now.

Delia smiles and heads off to refill the ladies’ glasses.

Hannah’s brow furrows as she watches them. “Does the bride seem a bit off to you? I know she was laughing along with everyone, but there’s kind of a sadness about her too.”

I hadn’t noticed, but looking at the women now, she’s right. Katie’s smiling and joining in, and she’s shrieked at the dick jokes, but she has an air of melancholy, a distant look in her eye.

“Cold feet?” I suggest to Hannah. “That happens, right?”

Hannah turns her attention to me. “Did you get cold feet before your wedding?”

My stomach knots. Thoughts about my wedding, my marriage, my ex-wife, are not something I want to invade our evening.

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