Unexpecting (Unexpecting #1)

37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Pantyhose should be worn at all times to avoid swollen ankles.”

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

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

D espite everything, it was a beautiful wedding. A beautiful day, even though I couldn’t really breathe naturally because my dress was like a steel band around my lungs and I had a constant fear of throwing up.

At the reception, my seat was at the head table, trapped between Tom and an already-intoxicated Lacey, who was determined to flirt with every male in the place, including the sixteen-year-old waiter who cleared her plate. Plus, she kept making inappropriate comments about my breasts, which was embarrassing to me; but Anil, on Lacey’s other side, found the comments hilarious. The reception took place downtown at the Royal York Hotel, in the historical Imperial Ballroom, where prime ministers and royalty have dined and danced. Or so Brit says. It is a beautiful room and the dinner was lovely; I managed to eat a few mouthfuls. The speeches, usually a bore at wedding receptions, were tolerable, and even the one Brit’s father made welcoming Tom into the family was amusing, in part because Mr. Spears was well on his way to being three sheets to the wind, just like his daughter Lacey.

As maid of honour, I had to say something, and I didn’t have the luxury of a drink or two to soothe my nerves. Speaking in public isn’t a favourite pastime of mine, but I thought I did okay, producing a couple of laughs and a collective aah from the guests as I finished with a poem by Christopher Marlow. After Brit and Tom had their first dance, and after Brit danced with her father and the wedding party all joined in, I finally escaped my duties and headed over to the table where Coop and Emma were sitting. J.B. had been seated with them, and I wondered where he was.

″Ah, freedom,” I sighed with relief as I sank into a chair beside Emma, propping my sore feet up on the next chair.

″You did great,” she praised. “I liked your speech. Your feet okay?” she asked in a worried voice when she noticed me inspecting my ankles.

″I think they’re swollen,” I told her incredulously. “I’m only three months. Does that mean I’m going to swell up like a balloon by the time this is over?”

″I’m sure you won’t,” Emma soothed. “You’ve been on your feet all day and in those shoes. Even my feet hurt.”

″No more shoes for me tonight,” I decided, slipping them off my feet. “I should have brought my Uggs to wear.”

″Oh, I’m sure Brit would love having you galumphing around in that dress and your boots,” Coop said sarcastically.

I tilted my head back on the chair. “I’ll be sooo glad when this wedding is over,” I said to the ceiling. “I need my life to go back to normal. Not that I know what normal is going to be like,” I said suddenly, with my hands over my belly.

″At least it will be interesting,” Emma smiled at me.

″I can’t even imagine what those babies are going to do to my kitchen,” Cooper muttered. “Don’t they, like, go through drawers and everything? And no way am I getting childproof locks on the cupboards!”

Emma and I laughed. “I think you might have a little time before we have to start worrying about that,” I giggled. “Who knows where I’ll be when they’re running around being little holy terrors?”

″You’re not moving out, are you?” Emma asked worriedly.

″Eventually,” I told her. “But no plans right now.”

″Good. I’m kind of excited about having a baby around all the time,” she said shyly. “Or three of them.”

″I can see that wearing off after the hundred or so diapers I get you to change,” I teased. But I also gave her hand a squeeze as I heaved myself to my feet with difficulty. The tightness of the dress inhibited ease of movement.

″Where are you off to?” Coop asked .

″I think I’ll go throw up now, so have fun.”

″You can just decide like that?” Coop asked in surprise.

″Pretty much. I feel the need to vomit most of the time, but I’ve found out it’s fairly easy to control. If I have the time and a decent bathroom, I throw up. Or if I want to feel better for a bit. Brit gave me the key to the bridal room just in case, so I have the decent bathroom and I think now’s a good time.”

″That’s… odd.”

″But very helpful. I’m thinking of making it into some sort of a party trick, what do you say?” I gave a smile and a little wave as I headed off across the dance floor.

I think most of the two hundred guests were on the floor, including Brit’s father, who was doing an odd version of the Chicken Dance despite the song playing not being the Chicken Dance song.

″Casey!” Will Spears bellowed across the floor at me. “Come on and dance with me!” Because the reception was in full swing and Brit’s father had been full swinging into drinking, it sounded like, ‘C’mon dans w’me!’

″Not on your life,” I said under my breath and cheerfully waved. Mr. Spears waved back and accosted someone else. I could see Lacey doing her best bump and grind with J.B. She saw me and gave me a coy wave, but J.B. rolled his eyes and gave me a pleading look.

″Save me,” he mouthed. There was no way I was going over there because I was sure Lacey would try and pull me into whatever action she was trying with J.B. I wiggled my fingers at him and kept moving across the dance floor.

I began to weave my way around another group of dancers until someone stepped directly in my path.

″Why do you keep showing up like this?” asked a male voice. It took me a moment to recognize him. It was the cute guy from the subway, the one I threw up in front of at the wine store the day the nausea began. I didn’t recognize him because he looked smart in a black suit.

″Hey! What are you doing here?” I blurted out. “Sorry, that’s really rude. But really, what are you doing here?”

He smiled, which made him look less like Matt Damon but still cute. “My girlfriend is Tom’s assistant. There’s no need to ask what you’re doing here.”

I dipped into a brief curtsy, which at the last minute, I realized gave him an amazing look down my cleavage. “Maid of honour, at your service. ”

″Are you feeling better then?” he asked. “With the whole pregnancy thing?”

″Not really, actually. It hasn’t gone away. The throwing up, that is. The pregnancy hasn’t gone away either. Other than that, I feel great. Other than the fact I found out I’m having triplets.”

″Wow! Triplets? That’s—”

″Very scary.”

″I was going to say amazing. And you look—great. I mean, I don’t know you very well, but I’d say pregnancy agrees with you.” I noticed his eyes dip down to my chest.

″It agrees with my breasts anyway. Since you’re a doctor, I can say that, right?”

He gave a little cough. “Sure. I’m Adam, by the way.” He held out a hand.

″It’s nice to put a name to the stranger who keeps popping up,” I laughed. “I’m Casey.”

″I know. I read the program at the church. Eve, my girlfriend, thinks—”

″Your girlfriend’s name is Eve?” I asked skeptically.

″I know. I call her Evie, makes it a bit better. Look, I better get back to her. She only knows Tom and a couple of people from work. They put us at a table with—over there.” He pointed to the table I was just at with Cooper and Emma.

″This is way too weird. They’re my roommates.”

Adam gave a nervous laugh. “Okay, this is getting a little too strange, so I’ll be going now. But I bet we’ll bump into each other sometime again.”

″Probably,” I agreed. “See you.”

Strange, I thought as I left the dance floor. And nothing against Adam, but after talking to him, I really felt the need to throw up, so I headed directly to the bridal suite, ignoring all eye contact with people who might want to stop and talk to me.

I finally made it to the bridal suite on the second floor above the ballroom, and I rested a minute after I did the vomiting thing. It was cool and quiet in there, but I could still here the thump of the sound system below as it headed into some retro eighties’ song. I saw Brit’s going-away outfit hanging in the closet, and her makeup had already been strewn across the vanity .

I couldn’t believe Brit was married. I was there, I watched it happen, but it was only hitting me now. My oldest friend was no longer Brit Spears, but now Mrs. Tom Smith.

Brit was married. Because it had been an emotional day—an emotional month—I started to cry a little. I wondered if I’d ever get married. I know I always say I’m not into it, but hey, every girl really wants a fairy tale, doesn’t she? For the first time, I began to wonder if I did the right thing refusing J.B.

I think this must be why men assume single women at weddings are so easy to pick up. They’re desperate for some reassurance they won’t be alone forever.

But I won’t be alone for long. I’ve got three babies that will occupy my every moment, and if I have any left over, there’s always J.B. He proposed to me. The enormity of that was finally reaching my baby-addled brain. It had taken almost a month and for me to actually take part in someone else’s wedding, but it finally hit me. J.B. Bergen, whose conquests are numerous and legendary, asked me to marry him.

And I said no.

I said no because, honestly, I don’t want J.B. to be stuck with me just because I happen to be having his babies. It’s like being the last one picked for a team—you know they don’t really want you, but they had to take you. I don’t want to feel like that. And I definitely don’t want J.B. to start resenting me, thinking it’s my fault that I’ve clipped his wings. This way is better, I keep telling myself. We’re having the babies together, but both of us are free to live the lives we want. That’s the way it should be.

But then when I’m repeating this over and over and over again, there’s a little voice that keeps interrupting—what if his proposal wasn’t just about the babies?

But why would it be about anything else? I’m attracted to J.B. more than any other man I know, plus I like J.B. more than any other man, save Cooper. I’m not sure what goes on inside J.B.’s head concerning me, but my self-esteem isn’t damaged enough for me to believe that it’s only convenient sex that draws him to me. There’s something between us that I can’t explain, but I think it’s more than sex. Is that a good enough reason to marry him?

I wiped away the traces of my tears and checked my makeup, borrowing Brit’s lipstick since mine was long gone. I would have liked to fix my hair, since it felt like it could collapse down my neck at any moment, but there was so much hairspray I couldn’t really move it. Good to go. I smiled in the mirror at myself, hoping I didn’t look as forlorn and melancholy as I felt. I could just chalk it up to hormones if anyone asked. Not that I really thought they would. This was Brit’s day and I was just standing in the shadows, but there’s no sense crying in the shadows.

I got up and, after a final glance at myself in the mirror, decided I’d better get back out there. I was sure Brit had something for me to do. But when I pulled open the door of the bride’s room, I saw J.B. on the other side, his hand raised as if to knock.

″Hey,” he said.