Saint teased me on Whipped Cream Night. He wanted to know if I was ready.

I am so ready.

The fleet of M4 airplanes is ready.

Invitations are out.

Gifts are flowing in and they sit perfectly wrapped, waiting to be opened.

The invitations specify only the time and date we leave from O’Hare, and the date guests will be flown back. Apparently nobody is going to know where we’re going beforehand.

Everything is set.

Malcolm Saint and I are getting married next weekend.

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