Orla was first to arrive. "Hey hey hey!" She said.
Assumpta's answering 'Hey' was a bit on the pathetic side.
Orla turned to Peter. "Don't suppose you're staying. I once went to a bachelorette party and, let me tell you, the priest was the highlight."
Peter turned beet red, "No, I'm on my way out the door."
"Ah, go on, pour us girls a little something to get us going. What do you say, Assumpta?"
Trying not to laugh, Assumpta caught Peter's eyes, their green than usual compared with the blush of his skin. "Why not?"
He complied, putting two generous glasses of wine on the counter. "Have fun." He said and made a bee-line for the exit, nearly running into Niamh on his way out. Niamh held up a veil, "Look what I found in my closet, ooh, one of them for me?"
"It is now." Orla went around behind the bar and nudged Assumpta out, then poured another glass.
Siobhan arrived next, in all her glad rags, "Evening girls."
"Evening." Assumpta smiled, hiding her dread.
"Are we heading out or staying in?" Orla asked.
"We probably don't need to be here." Assumpta turned to Siobhan, "Brendan won't be in, so no chance I'll make a profit."
"He better not be in. He's babysitting." Siobhan took a seat at the bar. "Yes please, Wench." She said to Orla.
"I should've brought my wench's outfit." Orla tipped the last of the bottle into a glass and then opened the next.
"What does a wench's outfit look like?" Niamh tugged on Assumpta's arm and then started attaching the veil to her hair.
"Imagine that," Orla pointed to the rather generous veil, "and not much else."
"Oh, then I do have one of those." Siobhan said.
Orla nearly choked on her drink.
"I brought videos, and popcorn too." Niamh said, plonking her open purse on a bar stool. "We have 'The Bodyguard', 'Titanic', and 'Liar Liar'."
"Ooh, Jim Carrey. Always a good laugh. Put the sinking ships and sap away." Orla happily took over, turning on the stereo rather than the television. Assumpta just laughed. How bad could it be? They put drinks in her hand, they danced, they kept the music loud enough that no one's terrible singing voice broke through the din. A while later, all worn out and border-line drunk they collapsed in the lounge and watched their video.
"Should have brought my pyjamas." Siobhan shifted to get more comfortable. Assumpta hoped to god they wouldn't actually sleep over. She cracked out the chocolates. Maybe sugar would counteract the alcohol and no one would fall asleep before the movie was over.
Peter was terrible at bowling. He'd always been terrible at bowling. But tonight it turned out rather fortunate. Ambrose was obviously feeling low, but at least he wasn't losing. Aidan, on the other hand, was on fire. He bowled strikes. He captured the attention of fellow bowlers, girls in fact, and that was even before he told them he was a priest. He was dangerously innocent, but Peter felt ill-qualified to question his methods. He certainly made friends with remarkable ease considering he'd spent so many years in a monastery.
"See you again some time." The girls held up their chips in salute.
"Well, there's mass every Sunday at St Joseph's." Aidan said.
"God and chips." The girls laughed, and so did Peter, wondering if he'd have tried the same bold invite, back in the day. Probably.
"If I had a pound for every time I heard that, I'd have three or four pounds by now." Aidan munched down on a chip.
"You could pay our bus fare then."
Peter outright laughed.
"Don't push it." Aidan waved them off.
"See you round."
"Goodnight." Peter said.
"God Bless." Aidan put in.
As soon as the girls were out of earshot Ambrose spoke up, "If someone had seen us – I'm a married man, you're a priest, and you," he paused on Peter, "well you're engaged."
"Worse than that, I was priest." Peter said, feeling just a little guilty for enjoying Ambrose's silly over-reaction.
"So?" Aidan asked.
"It could have been difficult." Ambrose waved a chip as if that explained it better than he could.
"It wasn't." Aidan said, easy as that. "Relax." Maybe he was related to Orla after all.
Peter pointed out a table and they all sat down and then Ambrose apologised.
"What for?" Aidan said.
"I don't relax, you know, enjoy things. Like with those girls, you just talked to them, got on with them. But I couldn't. I always see things turning out for the worst."
"Why is that, do you think?"
Ambrose thought for a minute. "Maybe it's my job."
"But if you look at your life, it's obvious things can turn out great. You're good at your job, you've a lovely wife, a fine son. I'd say that's pretty good."
"Yeah, you're right. I should look at it like that."
Peter spoke up, "It's easy to forget what you've got, take it for granted. We all do it."
"Yeah?" Ambrose wasn't convinced.
"Absolutely." Peter nodded. "Even after a near-death experience."
Ambrose smiled at that.
"Just think how easy it would be for me to envy you two." Aidan said, "Mad in love with these incredible women. I might easily forget the things I love about being a priest, the privilege it is."
"I might easily forget how hard it was to be a priest. I might long for that simple life, the clear purpose and mission, the privilege, exactly."
Ambrose watched him, skeptical. "Really?"
"I might." Peter said, smile giving him away. "Sometimes, bits of it. Alright, I don't actually regret anything. But you and Niamh have been married for three years. Things that are special at first do often become ordinary. It's unavoidable."
Ambrose nodded and ate his chips.
"Doesn't mean it's not special. Just means you forget to notice it." Peter said, feeling a bit silly. Who was he to give advice on marriage? Once upon a time it had been his place, under-qualified though he'd been. Without the collar he was even less qualified. Mad in love, as Aidan had put it, was absolutely correct. Mad to the point of delusion, probably. What could he offer Ambrose?
"I can drop you at Brendan's." Ambrose said, driving them back into Ballykissangel.
"No, don't go out of your way. I like the walk." Peter said, and it was true, he did like the walk. He did it nearly every day. Aidan and Ambrose were inside their respective homes too quickly, giving Peter plenty of time to see that the lights were off at Fitzgerald's before he'd taken two steps toward Brendan's. Either the girls had gone out, and were still out, or they'd gone home and Assumpta was upstairs, in bed.
He let himself in the back door and slipped off his shoes, padding silently up the stairs. Half way up he realised he knew the place well enough that he didn't need lights. He smiled wide, unseen in the dark. Standing at Assumpta's door, he searched the lump in the bed for a form, and stopped on her bare foot. It'd give her such a fright she'd probably throw him out, but he so wanted to tickle the underside.
"Are you awake?" He whispered, instead.
"No." She said then groaned, "Don't tell me I have to get up."
"You don't." He touched the bottom of her foot and she snatched it away. He followed it under the covers. "It's the middle of the night. We just got back." He ran his hand up her leg, then skipped over all the dangerous territory and arms around her middle, he lay down, his face in her hair.
"I can't believe we got out-partied by a priest, a guard and you."
"Hey!"
She covered his cool hand on her belly with her own warm fingers. "Good night?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."
"You're not as drunk as you thought you would be?"
"No. No, I am."
He laughed, kissed her neck, "Is that right?"
"Need I remind you, you don't condone drunkenness. Or that." She lifted her shoulder, cutting him off from her neck.
"Oh, I was always pretty quick to blur the line for that particular vice." He brushed her hair aside and tried to get at the soft skin beneath her ear.
"Always?"
"Well, early in the proceedings."
"Ambushing me in Niamh's kitchen, you mean."
A mention of Niamh reminded him of Ambrose's concerns, of this downward spiral their friends seemed to be stuck in, but before he said anything Assumpta spoke up.
"I sold my wedding ring."
"What?"
She was playing with his fingers, her mind evidently wandering a different path to his. "I used the money to pay for the divorce. Didn't want to accidentally spend your money on my divorce. But the thing is there's a bit left over."
"How much do wedding rings cost?"
"I don't want to accidentally spend it on our wedding, is all. Silly I know, but there it is."
"Not so silly."
"I was thinking I might buy the prize for the quiz night with it. Or would that taint all the takings from the night?"
He laughed. "So long as you don't ask Father Aidan to launder it, it's fine by me."
She squeezed his hand and they lay there in silence for a while. "I found us a cottage." She said eventually.
"Yeah?" He felt her nod, her hair grazing his chin.
"It's cheap, but I've no idea how we'll pay for rings."
"We'll think of something."