1. Mandy
1
MANDY
“ I honestly thought I was going to die before you got married.” Gran pops the cork off a bottle of champagne.
My mom and Amy are flitting around me as I sit for my hair and makeup in the bridal suite.
Mom sniffs. “I can’t believe my little girl is about to get married.”
“Are you excited? Nervous?” Amy steals my glass of champagne with the fresh raspberries floating in it before I can even take a sip.
She’s left her baby under the care of Pepper, who is keeping my niece from crawling out the door.
My wedding day is chaos, as per usual.
“Excited, not nervous,” I say. “There’s not billions of dollars, lawsuits, or potential jail time on the line!”
The port project has been going full force the last couple of months, and between that and wedding planning, I haven’t been able to let loose. I am so looking forward to the reception—cake, music, good food, and of course, all the alcohol I can drink.
I try to take my champagne flute back from Amy, who drains it.
My mom bats my hand away.
“But I’ve had to stay stone-cold sober to keep the port project on track. You have to be on your game at those public meetings. I’ve earned this!”
“Have a slice of cucumber. Don’t go too overboard—you don’t want to puke on Salinger during your wedding night,” my mom warns.
“He had to pick her up after the bachelorette party!” Gran hoots. “When he says ‘for better or for worse,’ you know he means it.”
“Do you want to add some hair extensions?” My mom inspects my updo, carefully interlaced with daisies. “Give her a little more body?”
The stylist gives me a questioning look in the mirrors.
“Naw.” Gran hikes up the bodice of her dress. “Mandy’s new husband is going to ride that hard tonight. You don’t want clumps of hair coming out. That’ll ruin the mood. Almost as bad as the time the teeth of this guy I was seeing came out right as he was going down on me. Thought I was going to have to get the hot emergency room docs to fish them out of there.”
“Look at the time,” my mom interrupts. “We need to get your dress on.”
My white gown is hanging up by the window. In a few hours, I’m going to be Mrs. Salinger Svensson!
“Go empty the tanks before we strap you into your bridal shapewear.” Gran shoos me out of the chair .
Jess and Lauren motion me into the bathroom.
“I don’t think I need an entourage for this, guys…”
Jess grabs me and closes the door. “Okay, so don’t freak out…” In her hand is a bunch of pink and gold condoms.
“Jess, I’m already cutting it close taking eight months to plan this wedding. I’m trying for a baby right after. I’ve been working ninety-hour weeks on the port contract and living on caffeine. I’m letting loose, then I’m going to hopefully become a mom! Give those to Amy.”
Jess doesn’t look happy that I’m about to realize my lifelong dream, however.
I start to get teary-eyed. I’ve always envisioned her as the godmother to my child. Have I ruined everything? Is this the end of our friendship?
Don’t catastrophize. Use your words. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Oh my god, it’s already happened.” Jess claps a hand to her forehead. “This is your fault, Lauren. You had one job.”
“What happened?” Bewildered, I look between them.
“So, you haven’t been using these condoms that were in the bachelorette box we gave you?” Jess waves the condoms at me.
“I mean, yeah? I have? Waste not, want not.”
“Lauren ordered them off a less-than-reputable site,” Jess says flatly.
“They were cute!” Lauren protests.
“And there have been reports that they leak. So… I don’t know how much you’ve been using them…”
“Most of the box is gone.”
“She is so pregnant. I mean, look at how bloated she is.” Lauren pokes me .
“Pregnant?” I gasp.
“We don’t know,” Jess admits, “but there’s a possibility.”
“Oh my gosh. I need to know! I need to take a test right now. I have a signature cocktail that literally has my name on it. I’ve been looking forward to that cocktail.”
Jess holds out her hand. “Lauren, the test.”
My sister gives her a blank look.
“Dammit, Lauren!” I yell.
“Keep it down,” Jess hisses at me.
“I need a pregnancy test.”
“Well, we’re on an island, and unless Salinger has built his own personal drugstore, you’re going to have to wait until we can get you one.”
“But... my signature cocktail!”
“You can’t drink like a sorority girl if you’re pregnant.” Jess shakes her head. “I don’t want my godchild to come out with three heads.”
“Three heads?”
“People are going to know if she’s not drinking,” Lauren says. “She’s going to upstage her own wedding.”
“No! I can’t make a big announcement. What if it’s not true? Then Salinger will be furious and heartbroken that I lied about us having a baby.”
“I have a plan.” Jess opens up her purse to reveal a collection of bottles. “Sparkling apple juice to replace champagne, hibiscus and pomegranate juice to replace the red wine—”
“But my cocktail…”
“Honestly, Mandy, you’re going to have to let the signature cocktail go. Focus.”
My eye is twitching. I can’t be pregnant right now.
“This is what you wanted since forever,” Jess reminds me .
“Yes, but I wanted it after my wedding reception.” I groan. “Oh my gosh. What am I going to tell Salinger?”
“Don’t tell him anything.” Lauren shakes out my shapewear.
“I can’t keep something like that from him. That’s a horrible start to married life.”
“You have to walk down the aisle in less than an hour,” Jess reminds me. “If you tell him, he’ll start obsessing about it. You know how crazy he is. The ceremony will get delayed—it will be a huge deal, then you’ll have hundreds of people waiting for the pregnancy results to be announced.”
I sigh. “I could really use a drink.”
“Just enjoy your wedding,” Jess says.
“Yeah, we’ll take care of everything,” Lauren assures me.
Jess rolls her eyes. “No, I will take care of everything.”
I’m in a weird fog as I put on my wedding dress. Am I pregnant? Do I feel pregnant? What does being pregnant feel like?
Then I’m in the dress, floating down the staircase, trying not to trip on the train. Yes, I am indeed wearing comfy flats. I don’t trust myself with the long skirt.
Jess and the other bridesmaids usher me through the large house to the front door that leads out to the yard and my future husband. I just wanted something fun and casual, but of course it’s a backyard wedding on Salinger’s private island.
Two days before, a literal barge had parked at the dock, and a whole crew of people erected a series of white tents and pavilions then decorated them with more flowers, ribbons, and crystals than I’ve seen in my life .
I descend the stairs to the lush green lawn. Salinger is waiting at the end under a flower arch. A string quartet plays.
In front of me, Pepper parades down the aisle, the rings strapped to her back. I was going to enlist Salinger’s youngers siblings in the wedding, but he vetoed that idea and told me it was going to cause a massive fight over who got to be involved and who got left out.
My heart flip-flops between going ahead and telling Salinger and keeping it to myself until I can get a pregnancy test.
I take my dad’s arm.
I’m trying to be present for the moment, but I’m already planning my nursery and freaking out about how horrible and sad it’s going to be if it turns out I’m not actually pregnant.
At the end of the aisle, Salinger smiles at me. His face is softer, kind, and full of love when he sees me.
I have to tell him.
Gran, my flower girl, heads down the aisle, tossing rose petals on the white silk covering the grass.
I’m supposed to be a happy, blushing bride when I walk down the aisle, but my face feels too hot. Maybe I won’t tell him. It sounds hysterical, right? And what if he thinks I’m doing it on purpose, trying to pull one over on him?
But maybe I am pregnant. I’m feeling overheated, nauseous, and bloated, though I didn’t even drink coffee this morning. My mom refused to let me have anything but ice water and a slice of cucumber.
“You’ll thank me later when you see your photos,” she told me .
Be present. Be present. I can’t ruin my own wedding with anxiety. This isn’t happening. It’s just Schrodinger's pregnancy. Either way, I’m not drinking a cocktail, so I’ll just have to make do.
The ceremony is a blur as we say our vows and exchange rings.
Then Salinger’s kissing me. “My beautiful wife,” he murmurs against my mouth. “My love.”
My parents are crying, and all of his siblings are cheering. I smile up at him and wonder what our future child will be like.
Afterward, the family portraits take forever.
“I just don’t see why,” Salinger whispers in my ear while his older brothers yell at their younger siblings, “you want a photo with everyone.”
“This is your family’s first big portrait since forever,” I remind him. “You have to have a big family group shot.”
“I have Dad’s mugshot!” One of Salinger’s brothers holds up a poster on foam board.
“Get rid of that,” Crawford barks at him.
Finally, the last photo is taken.
Salinger scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the tent, where cocktail hour is in full swing. I had insisted that I get to attend cocktail hour as opposed to making a big entrance during the reception—I wanted a cocktail and all the little cocktail snacks. Now I wish I’d just opted for the traditional route.
“Signature cocktail?” Jess hands me what looks like a glass of watered-down apple juice with a cherry in it.
It tastes about as fulfilling. “Yum.”
Salinger has his old-fashioned. I’m not a big old-fashioned girl, but I’d take it now instead of my juice .
I’m not going to make it. I need to know right now if I’m pregnant or not, but there’s no way I’m going to get a pregnancy test. I would slip one of the staff a message, except I don’t have pen and paper or even money to give them.
I sadly refuse the sushi and other raw fish that I’d insisted on having for dinner and just eat the fried shrimp and sweet-egg tamago.
Salinger notices when he tries to feed me nigiri and I wave him away.
“What’s wrong?” he demands. “Are you sick? Did your sister say something?”
“No and no. I’m full,” I lie.
I’m not. I’m starving.
My husband doesn’t believe me. Thankfully, before he can push the issue, one of his smaller brothers runs headlong into a tent pole and starts bleeding. The other two Svensson brothers who were engaging in the game of tag can’t stop in time, and there’s a massive pileup.
“See, you can’t take them anywhere.” Shaking his head, Salinger heads into the fray.
Jess slips me another glass of sparkling apple juice. “Or would you rather have ‘wine’? Bride’s day, bride’s way!”
“I do not want grape juice.”
I would kill for alcohol right now, I decide, as we sit through speeches and cutting the cake.
Salinger leans in to kiss the frosting off my mouth as we pose with forks for the cameras. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
But is he still going to feel that way when he learns that I kept this potential pregnancy from him?