Page 71 of Unexpecting

″I’m just trying to resolve my feelings,” Morgan said defensively. “Instead of trying to ignore he exists, I thought I would focus on Anil and try to talk myself out of being in love with him. If I still am.”

″That’s fine, that’s fine,” I told her. Interesting logic, I thought to myself. Not sure I’d go that route, but if it works, it might be something to think about to get J.B. out of my head. “Good luck. I’ll try to get over the nightmare of you resolving all over my possible future step-uncle.”

″No more talk of relationships other than mine!” Brit barked.

″Yes, sir,” I muttered.

″And no more baby talk. I let you talk enough about this baby this morning. Need I remind you tonight is all about me? Me, me, me!” she sang.

″No, you don’t have to remind us,” I grinned.

″Be nice, Brit, ’cause if you piss us off, the pregnant one is likely to throw a glass of water on you!” Morgan threatened with a giggle.

″Don’t tempt me. I’m still hormonal.”

″Well, if you try that tonight, you’re definitely out of the wedding party,” Brit said, and I could tell she was not exactly joking. How long is it until this wedding is over?

Chapter Thirty-One

“An expectant mother can almost always be assured of being the centre of attention at a gathering.”

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

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

When the three ofus showed up at Coop’s restaurant, Emma showed us to the table in the back room. That’s another reason I thought Galileo might be a good choice—the private room in the back. There was always the possibility (certainty with Lacey here) that a group of women could quickly turn obnoxious, especially when there were copious amounts of wine involved and the prospect of X-rated gifts. I thought if we were tucked away in the back room, it might be nicer for the other diners.

Most of Brit’s guests were already there, seated with drinks in front of them, and Brit was greeted with hugs and tons of gift bags overflowing with coloured tissue paper. It was a combined shower/stagette since Brit is vehemently opposed to the potential cheesiness of the traditional bridal shower. Her aunt Claudia threw her one last month, and I was invited. Brit got an amazing amount of presents (enough to make me want to reconsider my whole not-wanting-to-get married idea), but the shower games we were forced to participate in almost took all the fun away from the gifts.

″So you’re having a baby?” Brit’s sister Lacey asked me first off, plopping into a chair beside Libby. There was a great deal of skepticism in her voice. I preferred to think of it as skepticism rather than disgust. Lacey turned toLibby. The two of them are the same age and used to be quite close when they were young. “Is she nuts? Oh, I forgot, you popped out a couple too, didn’t you?”

″I have two, yes.” From the frosty note in her tone, I could tell Libby was not keen on renewing her past friendship with Lacey anytime soon.

″Crazy. Who’s the guy?”

″A friend of mine,” I told her, reluctant to talk about J.B.

″Sucks you can’t drink,” Lacey laughed, filling up her glass from the bottle on the table. “Is he hot, at least?” Lacey’s been living in Vancouver for the last ten years, but within five minutes in her company, I could tell she hadn’t changed a bit from the annoying teenager I remember. Still selfish and self-centered, and now that she’s over thirty, she’s even more juvenile. Her outfit was something I would never be caught dead in, but since I’ve been shopping with Brit for years, I had no trouble recognizing the expensive quality and designer names. And I never would have believed it possible to walk upright in heels that high had I not seen her stride across the restaurant, the last to arrive.

″J.B. is hot and with a body to die for,” Libby cut in. Knowing Libby and her competitive nature the way I do, her comment was more of a jab than a piece of gossip. She was basically telling Lacey that her big sister (me) could pull a better-looking guy than Brit (Lacey’s big sister). Nice of her to be so biased toward me (J.B. is way cuter than Tom, by the way!) but I’d rather have the topic of me and J.B. swept right under the table and stepped on by all of the obviously expensive footwear. But it’s not meant to be. Lacey has a bone and wants to gnaw on it for a while.

″Maybe hot but doesn’t sound too bright. And you! Brit told me you wanted to get pregnant? That this was intentional? What’s that all about?”

″It wasn’t intentional, but it’s not unwanted,” I said shortly. I really didn’t want to get into it. Unfortunately most of the table—there were sixteen of us—seemed to be paying rapt attention to the conversation. And Lacey couldn’t stop laughing. Like a hyena, I think the saying is, and it’s true. I could even see some fangs come out, if hyenas have fangs. They have sharp teeth at least.

″So is this someone you were dating or just some guy you pulled off the street?” asked one of Brit’s friends from work. Not that it was any of her business.

″Did he ditch you when he got you knocked up?” I think that was from her neighbour.

″Apparently J.B. wants nothing to do with the baby,” Brit told the enthralled audience.

″J.B. will do the right thing,” Morgan defended him. “He’s just…”

″Scared shitless?” Libby asked dryly. “I’ve always thought he was a great guy, but really, the way he’s treating Casey, he’s proving to be an ass. This isn’t all Casey’s fault. It’s not like she did it on purpose.”

″How old are you anyway?” Lacey demanded. “It’s all fixable, you know. If you don’t want it—”

″Don’t tell Casey that,” Brit cut in. “Remember, she wants a baby. I try to tell her there’s no way she’ll ever find a husband—you’d think unmarried mothers were still pariahs these days—but she won’t listen. And since she was sleeping with J.B. for quite some time, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” No wonder her sister was giving me the third degree if this is how Brit talks about me!

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