Damn it. Get yourself under control, Katherine. This is a family dinner.
I clear my throat. Ella is talking about the wedding. “Your friends will be here tomorrow, is that right?”
I nod. “Libby and Bailey will be here tomorrow night. Caulter’s friends should be here in the afternoon, I think.”
Caulter slides his hand across my thigh under the table, and his touch is electric. It's totally appropriate, until he moves his hand slightly, reaching between his legs. The movement is subtle, and he looks up at Ella, his face not betraying what his fingers are doing.
“Did you have a bachelorette party, Kate?” Ella asks. “Caulter, have you had a bachelor party? You're supposed to do that weeks ahead of time. That's what my wedding planner recommends."
"We have not had bachelor or bachelorette parties," I say. "Our friends are coming from all over the place, and won't be here until right before the wedding, and I'm pregnant, so…"
Ella looks horrified. "So you're not having parties?" she asks. "It's traditional."
I cover my pregnant belly with my hand. "This bride is knocked up, so this wedding is already pretty non-traditional, I think."
Ella waves her hand dismissively. "Pish-posh," she says. "Pregnant weddings are a thing now."
"Did you just say pish-posh?" Caulter asks, laughing. "Did you suddenly become British?"
Ella ignores him. "Who's your maid of honor? And your best man? The wedding planner can help make the arrangements."
“Kate wants strippers,” Caulter says. “I told her to make sure to get a private dance.”
My father’s face reddens and he clears his throat. “Are there male strippers in Lake Winnipesaukee?”
“I don’t want strippers,” I say, laughing at my father’s attempt to treat this like a serious conversation. “Seriously, the idea of staying up past nine p.m. makes me tired just thinking about it. And it's not like I'm going to be doing shots off some guy's abs, anyway."
“We could go to a strip club during the day,” Ella offers helpfully, spearing a piece of salmon on her fork. “You know, I find strip clubs to be an aphrodisiac. Tacky, but sometimes hot.”
“Really?” My father asks, his eyes fixated on Ella. She laughs, casually brushing her hand against his forearm, and I give Caulter a look again.
Caulter makes a gagging sound and mock-vomits. “I don’t need to hear about aphrodisiacs, Ella,” he says. “Or my mother talking about going to strip clubs.”
“You know, I was doing an interview in one of those women’s magazines the other day, and the interviewer said that I’ve become somewhat of an icon for women of a certain age – that sexuality doesn’t disappear with age. In fact, it gets even better. I think you become more willing to try new things, and --"
“And, I’ve finished my dinner,” Caulter says, putting down his fork. I snort at his obvious discomfort. Ella has actually grown on me. She really gets under Caulter’s skin, but I kind of like her. And she was totally right about her wedding planner, too. The planner was a godsend, breezing in and taking over all the minutiae that had become major annoyances for me.
“You can’t really object to this conversation after, well, what happened the other night,” my father says, pointing his fork at Caulter.
Oh my God, my father is talking about walking in on Caulter and I having sex. Now it’s my turn to be embarrassed.
“Could we please all just forget about that?” I ask. Caulter looks at me and raises his eyebrows, his expression a smug that's-what-you-get-for-laughing-at-me, and I give him my best glare.
"Well, I for one am glad that you and Caulter are keeping up an active sex life during the pregnancy," Ella says. "It's very important."
Beside me, Caulter sips his wine to cover the fact that he's about to fucking laugh, while my face feels like it's on fire. I'm stuck sitting here totally sober, and now mortified.
It's bad enough that we broke the bed and everyone walked in on us, but do they have to keep bringing it up?
"Okay, okay," Caulter says, holding up his hands. "Kate and my sex life is officially off-limits for dinner conversation. Next subject."
"It's not like we're talking about sex toys at the table," Ella says. "Really, Caulter. Don't be such a prude."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Caulter
It turns out that there were plans for a bachelor and bachelorette party after all, encouraged by Ella, I'm sure.
"You dickheads better not be taking me to Vegas or something," I say, as I'm pushed into the back of a limo. My friends – my best man, three groomsmen, and a couple of guys from Boston – are crammed inside, drinking beers and being loud and obnoxious.