He laughed, promised to keep his beer intake low, and gave me a kiss that left me breathless. I spent an hour doing household chores I should have done weeks ago, half an hour paying bills, then figured I’d done enough for the night and flopped on the couch to watch Gilmore Girls with Eddie stretched out on my legs, his chin on my knees and the tip of his tail gently whapping the soles of my slippers.

Rafe got home early enough for us to do a smidgen of wedding planning. Neither one of us was overly excited about spending thousands of dollars on a big formal event. My parents had said they’d be happy to pay for a large share of whatever we wanted, but when Rafe and I told them we were planning something informal and (relatively) inexpensive, the sighs of relief were audible.

But now we had to figure out what that something was.

“We figured the third Saturday in September, right?” Rafe asked.

Maybe? I knew that was a date we’d discussed, but we’d talked about a lot of dates and now they were all mixed up in my head. “I thought you knew.”

Simultaneously, we reached for our phones, and, after a short period of tapping, we simultaneously said, “Third Saturday in September,” and grinned at each other.

Rafe held up his fist for a bump. “Okay, what do we do first?”

“No idea. And if you say I’m supposed to know because I’m the girl and girls just know that stuff, the wedding might be off forever. I’d ask Kristen, but I don’t want to bother her right now. Pending baby and all that.”

“Maybe she’d like the distraction.”

“She probably would, but you know Kristen. She’d get all into it and then wear herself out when she should be resting.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” There was a short pause. “There must be websites out there to tell us what we should be doing. We’re, what, five months away, so there can’t be much to do right now.”

I smiled at him fondly. So smart, yet so very silly. Even I knew enough to know that we were way behind. But we did have some things in hand. Kristen would, come what may, do our catering for cost and deal with the cake. A good friend of Rafe’s had already volunteered to take photos, and after seeing his outstanding professional portfolio, I’d happily agreed.

“We need to figure out where we’re going to have it,” I said.

“Here?” He looked around, including the living room, front entry, dining room, and, judging by the way he stretched his neck, kitchen. “Should be warm enough in September to use the deck and backyard.”