Unexpecting (Unexpecting #1)

38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“During the pregnancy, the expectant mother should make a conscious effort to remain calm and relaxed in order to ensure the health of the baby and herself.”

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

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

“ Y ou okay? Coop said you weren’t feeling well.”

″Um, yeah, but I’m okay now. Just had to toss my cookies.”

He made a face. “Ah. Great. Is it this bad every day?”

″Most days, but I’m getting used to it.”

J.B. remained in the doorway, casually leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb, his arm stretched across, like he was preventing me from leaving. “Do you want to lie down or something?”

″No, I’m fine. Do you want to lie down or something?” I teased. He’d loosened his tie but still had on his jacket. “Have a nice time with Lacey?”

″Man, she’s a piece of work.” His hair fell in tousled waves, looking exactly like Lacey ran her fingers through it. “I practically had to fight her off.” Eyes narrowed, he glanced at me. “You jealous?”

″Of Lacey? She’s harmless.”

J.B. guffawed and came in the room. “I don’t think she’s harmless. Doesn’t she, you know, know about—well, us? About the babies and stuff? Aren’t you two friends? ”

″I don’t think it would matter to Lacey if you had two wives and sixteen babies. She likes to play. She tried to play with me this morning.”

″Really?” he asked with interest in his voice. “Now that might be something to see.”

″Men are so predictable.” I sat back on the bed and wished fervently to be able to take a deep breath.

″When it comes to two women, definitely. So how’s it going?”

″Good. Only a couple more hours to go.”

J.B. sat down on the bed. “I feel bad that you have to go through all this,” he said, looking as guilty as he sounded. “All the throwing up, not being able to eat what you want to. Coop told me about the chocolate.”

″It won’t last forever. My mother said she had it too, so it’s one more thing I can blame her for.”

″Are you really okay?” he asked, leaning closer and running a finger down my nose. “You’ve been crying. It gets red when you cry.”

″A little,” I admitted. “It’s just Brit—seeing her get married and everything. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

″Is she being nicer to you about the babies? ’Cuz I’ll really have to hurt her if she isn’t.”

″Oh, Brit just likes to be the centre of her own universe,” I said. “My getting pregnant just disrupted her orbit for a bit. Morgan more than makes up for it. And Cooper and Emma and Libby and… and you.”

″Now.”

″Now is all that matters. There’s no point living in the past.” J.B.’s hand was resting on his leg and I picked it up, rubbing his palm before linking my fingers with his. “Seeing David again taught me that.”

″Glad it taught you something.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “You know, I always thought I’d lose her if she went ahead and had a baby. Betsey,” J.B. said suddenly. “I thought a baby would split us up. And it did, only not in the way I first thought it would. Ironic, isn’t it? And that was then. You’d think I’d grow out of it—this being selfish and childish, but the thing is, I can’t help this feeling. And with you…” he trailed off here and took a deep breath. I could see his Adam’s apple bob, and it’s not even that pronounced.

″But with you,” he continued slowly, “it’s like it’s bringing us closer together.”

″Do you think that’s a good thing?” I whispered.

Instead of answering, J.B. raised our hands, still clasped together, and kissed my fingers, all the while looking into my eyes .

My pulse was racing and my heart was hammering loudly in my chest…

No, that was the door. Someone was pounding on the door.

″Casey, are you in there?” It was Brit, shrieking loud enough for the party to hear her downstairs. “Open the door.”

″She’s got great timing,” J.B. murmured.

″It’s her room.” Reluctantly, I pulled away, slipping sideways as J.B. tried to grab hold of me. “She won’t go away.”

″I’ll make her go away,” he grumbled.

I smiled over my shoulder at him as I pulled the door open. “What’s the matter?” I asked. Brit was holding up her voluminous skirt and was red-faced, like she just ran up the stairs. I never thought she could run in her dress, or her shoes for that matter.

″Get downstairs right now and stop Morgan from ruining my wedding!” Brit screamed in my face. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

″What’s she doing?”

″She’s telling off Anil in front of everyone! All I wanted was for everyone to get along today, and then she can do what she wants to the little dickhead, but no, she can’t do one little thing for me. Go downstairs and make her stop!” Then she burst into tears, noisy sobs that had her chest heaving and sounding like she was about to hyperventilate.

″Okay, okay, don’t cry,” I said hastily. I pulled her inside the room. “Come in and calm down, and I’ll go down and fix things. Everything’s fine. J.B.,” I looked at him beseechingly. “Could you stay—?”

″Not on your life,” he said, and quickly jumped off the bed. “I’ll come with you. You might need my help with her.”

″Okay, Brit, just calm down,” I said soothingly. Brit’s breathing was still coming in quick gasps, like she couldn’t take a deep breath. “Do you need a paper bag or something? Try to breathe slowly—”

″Stop her!” she shrieked. Then she looked up and noticed J.B. and the rumpled state of the bed. She shot him an icy glare. “I sincerely hope you are not trying to make a move on her during my wedding and using my bride’s room. I would gut you like a fish if you did that.”

There was not much J.B. could say to that.

″Go stop her! Now!” Brit shrieked, and I headed out of the room at a run, J.B. right behind me.

″I hope she doesn’t pass out or anything,” I said as we hit the stairs. I was glad I took off my shoes downstairs, or I’d be more worried about me falling headfirst down the stairs than Brit’s breathing. “What could Morgan be doing that’s so bad?”

As we reached the doorway to the ballroom, I could quickly see what Morgan was doing. It wasn’t so bad, but it was causing a bit of a stir. She was standing in front of Anil, who was seated at a table with his new girlfriend and a few mutual friends. Morgan is a tall girl, so I could see her through the crowd gathered around them—a crowd gathered obviously to hear the venom that Morgan was spouting.

″Oh, Morgan, don’t,” I pleaded. Of course she couldn’t hear me. “He’s not worth it.” I headed straight for her.

″Tell me how this isn’t about to get really funny?” J.B. asked, reluctantly following me. “He deserves everything he’s going to get.”

I couldn’t hear what Morgan was saying, but as I moved closer, dodging the interested wedding guests grouped together, all of a sudden Anil’s new girlfriend rose up from her chair. “Go away!” she shouted at Morgan. She was short and dark, very cute, but no match for Morgan, who could eat her for breakfast. She also seemed, based on unsteadiness on her feet and serious slurring of words, to be very drunk as well. “Can’t you just leave us alone? It’s bad enough he’s had to stare at you and your fake hair and your fake boobs all day. Can’t you just leave us alone?”

Oh dear. Angry and drunken girlfriend feeling insecure. That can’t be good. I braced myself for the drunken catfight. Brit was going to love this. No wonder she was hyperventilating. Was I just thinking about how she was getting the wedding she’d always wanted? I pushed myself through the crowd and finally reached Morgan.

″Her boobs aren’t fake,” I said, but no one was listening. Now the group gathered was ducking for cover as the new girlfriend began to throw wineglasses at Morgan. Not just the wine, but the entire glass. There were quite a few glasses on the nearby tables, so there was plenty of ammunition for her. I jumped back as one hit Morgan on the side of the head, leaving a splash of wine on her shoulder. Luckily, Morgan’s hair took the brunt of the attack, so she was not cut. People scrambled to get out of reach, and the deejay stopped the music as he ran over to get a closer look at the action.

″You psycho bitch!” howled Morgan as she sidestepped another glass. Luckily the girl’s aim wasn’t very good. Smash went another glass on the floor, but not before my dress was splashed with red wine.

″Hey!” I cried out. J.B. attempted to move me out of harm’s way, but I was not leaving Morgan. “Stop that! ”

″Did she hit you, Casey?” Morgan asked and turned to me, just as a glass hit her right below her mouth. I don’t know how it didn’t break on impact, but it must have hurt like hell. There’d be a bruise tomorrow. “Do not hit Casey! She’s pregnant!” Morgan screamed, and striding through the growing pile of glass like some sort of avenging Amazon, she landed a beautiful right hook against new girlfriend’s face. The girlfriend instantly went down, landing on her bum on the floor. Anil was so stunned he didn’t even have a chance to try to catch her. I always said Anil wouldn’t want to meet Morgan in a dark alley, and I guess I was right. He looked like he was ready to abandon the girlfriend and get the hell out of there. But before he did, Morgan turned on him and, with a quick jab, popped him right in the nose.

″You son of a bitch,” she cried. “That’s for the six years I wasted on you!”

In the instant of silence that followed, all we could hear was Brit’s cries.

″What the fuck are you doing to my wedding? Casey, I told you to stop her for God’s sake!” She pushed herself through the crowd, holding armfuls of dress. “You’re the maid of honour! Do something!”

I couldn’t help but start to laugh at this. The look on Brit’s face was priceless—horror and rage and fear all mixed together with perfectly applied eye shadow and long-lasting lipstick. Then there was Morgan, with her heavy breathing and obviously very sore fist, but glaring at Anil with a triumphant expression on her face. I was laughing too hard to look at anyone else. Sure, make the pregnant woman clean everything up. After this, I thought my maid-of-honour duties would finally be over.

″Great wedding,” I overheard someone say.