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Drunk With Love

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Everyone knows that being an exceptional mother involves making the best choices for yourself as well as your family on a daily basis. The adult experience on the opposing end of the spectrum? Participating in a hen night. You’re expected to depart from the norm to be completely hedonistic for the evening as you drink and carouse to show support for your fellow woman. These two contrasting expectations just didn’t make any rational sense to Dr. Claire Beauchamp but when Marsali asked her to attend, she felt she couldn’t decline. Her future daughter-in-law was far too sweet to disappoint by not spending a short amount of time at the event.

Seven hours and multiple adult beverages later, a more than slightly drunk Claire called her husband to pick her up. She had struggled just trying to find her mobile in the dimly lit pub and had dropped it several times when she was talking to Jamie. He let out a snort when she failed to remember her own location.

“I can’t have you being sexy when I’m trying to concentrate!” she slurred. “Wait! I remember now. We’re at The Last Drop, on Grassmarket.”

“I’ll be there shortly, mo nighean donn.” he soothed. “I’m glad you had fun at Marsali’s wee party.”

“You think I’m pissed out of my mind, don’t you?” she demanded. “I’m your wife! I know you.”

He summoned all his strength to not laugh out loud again. It wasn’t easy, but he used the din of last call to pretend he couldn’t hear her.

“I love you, too! I’ll see you soon.”

He arrived to find her waiting out front chatting to Marsali and Fergus. His son had arrived in town the night before and hadn’t made the trip to his parents’ house yet.

“I see you’re taking good care of your Mum!” Jamie called. “That’s a good lad. Marsali! It’s good to see you as well.”

He hugged the pair closely, “Thank you for giving me a ring, Marsali. You’re absolute gold.” he whispered.

Claire tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Can we stop and get something on the way home? I’m starving!” she said with a yawn.

He took her hand gently and kissed it. “You have a date with our bed, love. I happen to know we have some delicious Shepherd’s pie at home.”

“Cruel!” she sighed. “You’re not the man I married.”