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22 MEG

22 Days Until the Wedding

Meg sat down in front of the television to watch something mindless after the busiest day she’d had in a long time. On the screen in front of her, a group of women were at a dinner and dramatic cuts were getting faster until everybody was shouting and somebody threw a drink over somebody else. While watching, she was trying to make a caramel chocolate bar last but each of the six parts only made her want to eat another and soon it was finished. Hannah would be home soon; maybe she should message her to bring something else back?

She’d had a deadline to meet, so that morning she had woken up at half six to work on designs for some children’s bedding based on the characters from the show she used to work on, and she hadn’t looked up until ten o’clock when the grumbling coming from her stomach was impossible to ignore. Quickly, she had showered and eaten to be ready for David to come over, since they were meeting the man who would marry her and Hannah.

When the celebrant, Caleb, arrived, Meg couldn’t get over how tall he was.

She had found him through David’s online group, which now had over thirty members. In his post advertising himself to the group, he said he was queer, and had officiated over a hundred weddings, so Meg felt like they were in good hands. He was young, which she felt was important, as she and Hannah didn’t want the ceremony to feel formal and she really did think they should have a man rather than a woman, though she couldn’t work out why.

Seated at the kitchen table, he had run through the different options and some of the practical things he needed from the couple. Meg knew Ailie would be doing a more personal reading during the ceremony, so she told Caleb they were happy with the quickest and simplest ceremony script. He passed them the usual one, saying it could be tweaked where necessary, and there were a couple of places he usually inserted somewhat more personal touches.

David had gotten really into this section of the meeting, for some bizarre reason. Meg had felt bad when Caleb said how nice it was for the father of the bride to be this opinionated, and she could see him looking oddly chastised for his enthusiasm. It wasn’t, of course, that she didn’t want his help, just that this bit, more than anything else they’d had to arrange, felt so extremely personal. After five minutes of quiet, he had got involved in how they would exchange rings and sign the legal documents, and Meg had had to jokingly tell him it wasn’t his wedding. The meeting came to a close fairly soon after that, and Meg felt happy that they had decided on what she and Hannah would want.

Later, David’s friend Carl came round as David had suggested he, a copywriter, could help with the problems she was finding writing her speech. They all caught up briefly standing in the hall and Carl told her how excited Matty was to be her photographer. Meg had been so glad he had agreed, as she wanted somebody who came recommended and had left it too late to find many people who would be available.

Carl asked after Savage Lilies and David said how the online group had led to him hosting wine tasting classes on Tuesdays. The shop next door needed more space, and would give David a cut of their takings. He suggested he leave houseplants out for sale, and he had sent a text to Benji to advertise the night online and the wine bar had done the same.

Soon, David made his excuses, something about filing expenses, and left them to it. She told David as he left that at least her speech would be one of the few surprises he’d have on the day.

She and Hannah were both keen to have simple vows but to have time in speeches to speak about each other more informally; of course, Meg was nervous, but she wanted to do a speech, for Hannah and for herself. Carl was more sarcastic than David, and harsher. Where he didn’t like something she had written, he said so, or aggressively scratched it out on the sheets she had paid 5p a page to print at a local computer café, but his harshness was ultimately helpful. He gave her a couple of better turns of phrase for things she had already written, but she still only had down half of what would be needed for a full speech, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep all of it. He kept suggesting she make these bold and dramatic statements of love, talking about the entire universe, and many lifetimes, but it all felt different to what she loved about Hannah, which was small details, simple pleasures and lazy days.

She kept imagining speaking, her hands sweating and her parents glaring at her, and every time it stalled all cogent thoughts in her head. Nothing spilled onto the page, and this had happened every time she had tried to write the speech.

‘What’s the block, do you think?’ Carl had said. ‘David told me about your parents.’

‘I think it’s them,’ she told him. ‘What will they think, or say? How will everyone else be thinking about the situation with them too? I know what I’d say to Hannah alone in a room, but … it’s the public aspect.’

‘Well then, just pretend it’s Hannah and you alone, at home, and write from the heart,’ Carl said. ‘Remember, it is a wedding. It’s not you just sitting talking. There’s an audience, but it’s not the public, it’s people who love you and who want you to be mushy and romantic. It’s a celebration! When Matty and I got married, at the start of his speech, I thought he was going a little overboard, but then I started weeping and people loved that! The photos are hilarious.’

That made sense, Meg knew, and yet when he had left to go and catch up with David in the shop afterwards, she still couldn’t get anywhere. What was too much? Some of how she felt about Hannah was so deep and so huge that to say it might sound melodramatic. To try to put it into words felt impossible. Could she just draw it instead? Words weren’t her strength, and Carl could help edit, but he couldn’t write it. Could he? No, that was going too far.

As she was watching the television that evening, thinking about the day, the familiar sound of a key in the lock caught her attention, and she got up to go to the door to welcome Hannah home. It was a silly little tradition, one of the many tiny routines that make up a relationship that had its roots in a first time she couldn’t even remember. It was so nice though, and she was glad they had it. It warmed her soul every time, whichever side of the door she was coming from.

‘Hey,’ Hannah said, nuzzling into Meg’s neck. She could feel Hannah’s frizzy hair mould to fit as Meg rested on her too.

‘So I was thinking …’

‘Let me put my suitcase down first.’

‘I just wanted to say, please don’t contact my parents,’ she said. ‘I like the offer, and I appreciate it, and I’ve thought about it a lot, but I’m going to remind them of the rehearsal day, see if they show up, and go from there. That’s when I’ll either know they are coming to the wedding, or, if they don’t come to that, I’ll tell them not to.’

‘Okay,’ Hannah said, pulling back from the hug to look at Meg’s face. ‘Whatever you want, if you’re sure.’

‘I am,’ Meg said. ‘They’ve got as much information as they need. I love you and we’re getting married. They need to just decide.’

‘Okay,’ Hannah said, taking something out of her bag. ‘Also, I’m home now. No more travelling, no more suitcases. I’m here with you.’

Meg kissed her. ‘Good.’

‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too, Han. No more travelling. Except the honeymoon.’

‘Except the honeymoon, of course!’

‘What’s that in your hand?’

‘Just a little souvenir,’ Hannah said, and passed her a tiny box. Inside was a ring, a kind of cobbled silver, indented with impressive detail. It was only cheap, the kind of random thing you’d find in a gift shop, but it was lovely. ‘I know you’ve got a ring, obviously. But I saw this, and thought of you and … I’d buy a ring and get married to you a million times if I could.’

Hannah leaned in for a kiss.

‘Welcome home.’