Unexpecting (Unexpecting #1)

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Relationships can often be strained during pregnancy since not all those closely connected with the expectant mother display the support they should, due to fear of how a baby will affect the dynamics of the relationship and often because of jealousy.”

A Young Woman’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood

Dr. Francine Pascal (1941)

I felt queasy again when I met Brit and Morgan after work at the dress designer’s for a fitting for the bridesmaid dresses. Morgan was just being zipped up into her dress when I showed up.

″It’s a beautiful colour,” she was telling Brit as I was shown in.

The dress was gorgeous, and I had to give myself some credit since I was with Brit when she found it. Well, found a picture of it in a magazine, but I went with her to the designer to get her to make it. It’s an amethyst colour, ankle-length, with a flowing skirt and an Empire waist with tiny iridescent straps. Simple, but very pretty. Plus the colour goes well with my hair, which is why I fought against the harvest orange which was Brit’s first colour choice.

″Hurry up and try your dress on,” Brit told me impatiently. I decided to humour her. I’d also decided not to pretend I was happy with her lack of excitement about my pregnancy, but that would wait until later.

″So I’ve decided not to take anyone to the wedding next weekend,” Morgan told me after we’d put on the dresses and were standing at the mirror while a seamstress bustled around us with pins. I tried to stay still so I wouldn’t get pricked.

″What wedding? My wedding isn’t until September!” Brit cried.

″No, Marie and Michael’s wedding, remember? There are other people getting married in this world, you know,” Morgan told her mildly.

″Well, it’s kind of difficult to remember that, since I’m pouring my life energy into making this the best wedding ever. I thought you were taking J.B. to that one?” she added curiously.

″I was, but because of recent events, I’ve changed my mind,” Morgan said self-righteously. “He’s being an ass to Casey.”

″Thank you,” I said quietly.

″And this has nothing to do with the fact that Anil is laid up with poison ivy over half of his body?” Brit asked archly.

″Really?” I laughed.

″I didn’t know that.” Morgan didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Marie told me he wasn’t coming, but that’s not why I decided not to bring J.B. I was actually debating whether I should invite Derek.”

″Who?” Brit asked.

″You don’t mean…” I trailed off weakly.

″I know, it’s kind of weird for you,” Morgan said apologetically. “But he’s really, really nice. We’ve texted and talked on the phone a couple of times, and he’s always sending me these funny e-mails… Casey’s mother’s new boyfriend’s brother,” she said to Brit, who was practically bouncing up and down with frustration that she didn’t know who we were discussing.

″Oh, my God!” she cried with disgust. “You can’t be serious!”

″He’s nice,” Morgan told us defensively. “You’re okay with it, aren’t you, Casey?”

″Other than feeling extremely nauseated, just hunky-dory.”

″Really?”

I looked at Morgan and saw the disappointment in her eyes. “Do you really like him?” I asked despairingly.

″Kind of,” she admitted. “I think he’s waiting for me to give him the go-ahead before he asks me out. I wanted to clear it with you first.”

″Oh, Morgan,” I closed my eyes. “Fine. Go ahead; date the man who might be my step-uncle, but I do not want any details. And please, please, please, don’t start inviting my mother to parties and stuff.”

″Really? Oh, Casey, thanks! I know you’ll like him when you give him a chance. Eric sounds great, too. Derek says he and your mom— ”

I held up my hand. “No details. Please.” Especially since I was feeling wretchedly guilty about my run-in with Terri this morning. I’m truly a horrible daughter. How was I going to be able to be a good mother if I kept messing up my own mother-daughter relationship?

″He’s a nice guy,” Morgan was saying happily. “I’m going to text him and ask him for dinner tomorrow night as soon as we’re done here.”

″At least Morgan’ll have a date now for my wedding,” Brit said, as always bringing the conversation back to her. “I was getting worried that my whole wedding party was going to show up single and miserable.”

″I’m not miserable about being single,” I said coolly.

″Whatever,” Brit waved my protest away.

″Is—?” Morgan began. “Is he still standing up for Tom?”

″Who?” Brit was leafing through a magazine, impatiently waiting for the seamstress to be finished.

″Anil,” I supplied, so Morgan wouldn’t have to say the name.

″Well, of course,” Brit said with irritation. “Tom can’t dump him from being one of his ushers just because the two of you aren’t together! It would screw up the numbers, and really, he hasn’t got another friend he’s close enough to. Do you think that would be a nice thing to do? It’d be like me dropping you because of Anil. Tom and I need to stay neutral during this difficult time with you two, until you can begin to coexist civilly. I’m really hoping that will happen by the wedding, you know,” she finished pointedly.

″You’re not making her still be paired up with him?” I asked, incredulous. “Because that’s just mean.”

″No, I wouldn’t be that mean,” Brit said with a roll of her eyes. “Casey, you’ll be with Tom’s brother Richard; then Morgan with his other brother, Henry; then my sister and Anil. Lacey’s not too keen about going last,” she told Morgan meaningfully.

″At least you have one of your sisters in the wedding party,” I muttered. “What about Sierra?” referring to Brit’s younger sister.

″More than three attendants on each side make the church look cluttered,” Brit pronounced. “I’m not having a whole gang up there while I’m saying my vows. And the two of you want to be in my wedding party, don’t you? Besides, Sierra’s too young and irresponsible for such an important duty. Although she isn’t pregnant.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow at me, but I didn’t rise. I was waiting for my moment. The attitude I’d been getting had been going on long enough. Morgan seemed fine with the idea of me producing offspring, although I got the picture it was making her a little skittish, but plain and simple, Brit was being a bitch about the whole thing. I’d come to the conclusion that Brit was either with me, or not. I thought it might be difficult to cut her out of my life, since she’s been there for more than half of it, but if she were not with me, then changes would definitely need to be made.

I waited until the three of us were sitting at the restaurant around the corner from the shop. Brit was on a high because the dresses looked fantastic on both Morgan and me. It was too early for me to have put on any weight. In fact, I must have lost a couple of pounds in the past week since the dress was a little loose around the waist.

″So I’ve been thinking,” I began as soon as I could get a word in edgewise. “About this baby.”

″You’ve come to your senses?” Brit asked with a patronizing smile. She was playing with her glass of wine, and to make it worse, she’d ordered a glass of the New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc that I always get if it’s on the menu. Either she’d managed to pick up some wine knowledge from me over the years, or she was totally rubbing it in my face that I couldn’t drink. Tonight I’d tend to think it was the latter.

″That’s exactly what I mean. I am so happy about this baby.” I held my hands protectively over my belly. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, and I’m very excited. Ecstatic. Over the moon. And so are Cooper and Emma and Libby. And Morgan. The only person who hasn’t expressed any excitement or sincere good wishes or happiness for me is you, Brit—who claim to be my BFF.”

″Well, J.B. doesn’t seem to be too happy about it either,” Brit said in a snotty voice.

″Brit,” Morgan chided.

″I think I can handle things with J.B., thanks,” I told her icily.

You know he’ll come around, Casey,” Morgan told me reassuringly. “He’s just scared. He feels—he’s like this big stud, right? And he feels that he’s about to be taken off the market, against his will. It’s like he’s some stallion, and it’s his time to become a gelding.”

″What’s a gelding?” Brit asked.

″It’s a horse. A stallion is a boy horse—”

″I know that!”

″—and a gelding is what he becomes after they take away some of his boy-horse parts.”

″How do they…? Oh.”

″So he thinks I’m going to cut off his balls, so to speak?” I asked .

″Not you, but the baby will. Not your fault, of course. I think he’ll come around,” Morgan assured me. “Just give him a little time.”

″How do you know about this gelding thing?” Brit suddenly asked.

″You forget I grew up in the country,” Morgan told her imperiously. “You have no idea the stuff I know that you don’t want to know about.”

Brit waved her off. “The reason behind it doesn’t matter. He’s still being an ass. I think you’re a fool not to just blow him off. All this he’s-scared-he’ll-come-around crap—stop being a martyr, Casey, and grow a pair. Tell him to step up. It takes two to tango, and you better tell him he’d better grow up and put a big fat ring on your finger pretty darn quick. It’s the only way you’ll ever get one now, if you insist on going through with this nonsense.”

″Nonsense? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” I marveled. “What kind of friend makes comments like that? It’s just—really, it’s shitty of you, Brit, and it needs to stop. Be happy for me, or else.” After such a good start, I hit a hurdle at the end. But from the expression of surprise on her face, I think I got my point across. I took a big drink of water. Confrontations make your throat dry.

″Of course, I’m happy for you,” Brit began.

I snorted. “Of course you’re not. You’ve been a horrible friend since I told you this is what I want. I’ve listened to you for years about how you want the perfect wedding and plan its every last detail, so the least you can do is pretend to be happy for me. I don’t even get the dignity of you faking it.”

″I don’t fake,” she announced haughtily. “And I am perfectly happy for you. You and your surprise offspring have been taking up so much of my mental energy these days, I barely have enough time for wedding planning.”

″You bitch,” I say with amazement. “This is what I can expect from you when I tell you the biggest news of my life? Surprise offspring? It’s a baby! My baby! And news flash for you—it’s a wedding, not some last-minute G-8 summit in Israel. With your attitude, I can’t believe I still call you my best friend!” My voice increased in volume with every word, so I was practically yelling at the end. But that was still not enough impact for me. Without a second thought, I picked up my water glass and hurled the remaining water right in Brit’s face.

″Casey!” she shrieked, sending water droplets flying. There wasn’t more than a mouthful left in the glass, and I directed most of it toward her mouth. “What the hell has gotten into you? ”

″You,” I told her calmly. “You make me sick. Morgan’s my only best friend now.” Then I ruined it by beginning to cry. Like I said, I don’t do confrontations well.

″I can’t believe you did that!” Brit cried. She grabbed all the napkins from the table and blotted her face. I knew she didn’t wipe it in one fell swoop because that would undoubtedly ruin her makeup.

″You shouldn’t have done that,” Morgan said softly to me. She pushed her glass of merlot toward me. “Next time, use this.” I felt a laugh bubble up and watched as she handed Brit a Kleenex from her purse, then one to me before reaching out and taking my hand across the table.

″You’re insane,” Brit cried. “You completely ruin my makeup, humiliate me in front of dozens of people—what has this goddamn baby done to you?”

″Brit,” Morgan warned. Abruptly my tears stopped, and I glared at Brit. I pulled my hand from Morgan’s and reached down and grabbed my purse. I’d had it with her.

″She threw water on me!” Brit complained. “And called me a bitch.”

″You deserved it,” Morgan told her. “You’re lucky there wasn’t food on the table.”

″You damned my baby,” I practically growled at Brit.

″Oh, I did not. I didn’t damn anything. I didn’t mean anything.” Brit had managed to wipe her face without doing too much damage to her precious makeup and was now rummaging in her tiny purse for a compact and lipstick to reapply. It was an easy way to avoid looking at me directly. “Oh, sit down,” she told me. “You look like an idiot just standing there.” But the hostility was gone from her voice, and because I did feel like an idiot standing beside my chair, I sat down. As soon as I did, the waiter appeared with our dinners.

By the time he finished laying the plates in front of us with the usual warning about the plates being hot, Brit had fixed any damage to her face, but she was still not looking at me. I waited, my eyes narrowed, and imagined ways in which I could destroy her wedding.

″Fine,” Brit huffed. “Your hormones are just insane. Maybe I haven’t been as excited as you want me to about the baby. Sorry.”

″Tell her why,” Morgan instructed.

″What do you mean, why? I said sorry.”

″Tell her why you’ve been such a bitch about it. There’s got to be a reason, or is this just your natural bitchy side that we’re stuck with? If so, I’m not happy about it either. ”

Brit huffed again. “Fine. You want to know why I haven’t been on board? You never talked to me about it before you went and got pregnant. You just had your silly little idea, then went and got knocked up, and what about me? I tell you everything.” I honestly didn’t know what to say to that, but before I had a chance, Brit continued, “Then there’s the whole baby thing itself. Do you realize how much this baby will change everything?” she cried, really warming up. “Did you think about that? Did you think about how I’m going to feel never being able to see you without some kid attached to you? We’ll never be able to do this again,” she waved her arms, almost hitting Morgan on the side of her head; “nothing will be the same. And I think that sucks.”

I had to laugh. “What about the fact you’re getting married? Did you think about how things will change then?”

″You have to deal with that, not me.”

Morgan started laughing as well. “You are so selfish,” she said, shaking her head.

Brit looked affronted. “So? I’m selfish and shallow and materialistic, and you both still love me, so what’s your point?” By this time Morgan and I were practically howling with laughter. “What?” Brit asked.

We had a good laugh, which was preferable to me crying; I apologized to Brit for the water; Morgan apologized to me for not being happier and even Brit grudgingly said she was sorry. Even thinking I might have to rush into the bathroom to rid myself of the pasta I ate didn’t spoil the rest of the evening.

″Now that you’re not in a snit any longer,” Brit said to me just before we left, “will you please tell us what’s going on with you and David? I think we’ve talked about everything but that, and I don’t know why you haven’t said anything for a while. Morgan told me about him being in your room at Cooper’s party. What’s going on?” She smiled coquettishly at me. “What’s he think of the baby thing? Any chance of wedding bells there?”

I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “Brit, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want to get married! And if I ever have a moment of insanity and do decide to tie the knot, trust me, it won’t be with David.”

″But I thought,” Morgan began, but I cut her off.

″David,” I said dramatically, “is gay.”

″What?”

“David is now a homosexual and has been one for some time. He did ask if I wanted to have a baby with him, but before I had a chance to get it on with him, I found out I’m already pregnant. He is also in love with an Italian stallion named Marco. He’s going to Italy to make hot, homosexual love with him, the thought of which might excite me if I wasn’t trying so hard not to vomit right now.”

″Oh, you’re not feeling well?” Morgan clucked at me.

″Morgan, focus on the important things!” Brit admonished. “David’s gay? I knew it,” she crowed triumphantly.

″How do you figure?”

″He never once tried to hit on me!”

I could only stare at Brit. As I said, there’s hope for her, but she is still very much a self-centered, egotistical woman, and that’s never going to change.

″Does every man have to hit on you?” Morgan asked dubiously. I was glad she said it and not me.

″Most,” Brit replied matter-of-factly, without a trace of ego. “And quite a few women. And it doesn’t seem to matter if they’re in a relationship. Men like to flirt with me.”

″But not David.”

″No, never.”

″So because of that, you suspected he was gay?”

″Of course. You never knew?”

″No! Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Brit rolled her eyes at me. “I’m not that horrible a friend.”