Page 83 of Unexpecting

I spent the ride to the church teaching myself how to breathe in my dress. Shallow and slow, I told myself, hoping the fabric of the skirt didn’t wrinkle too much. I had to scramble into the limo after a last-minute run to the bathroom to puke—a false alarm, but I’ve learned that if something wants to come up, I’ve got to let it. I’m thirteen weeks pregnant, which means I’ve entered the second trimester, the magical part of the pregnancy when everyone says I’ll feel better.

I managed to pull Morgan aside just as we headed up the church steps. “Are you okay with the whole Anil thing?” I whispered as Lacey tried to assist Brit and her gargantuan dress into the church without getting screamed at for her efforts. It’s a beautiful dress but very high-maintenance (quite like the woman wearing it), and Brit looked a bit like one of those Barbie birthday cakes, with the doll sticking up from her skirt-cake.

Lacey could deal with Brit for a minute. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Morgan about this all day. In a few moments she was going to walk down the aisle of a church where her ex-boyfriend was standing at the front. They wouldn’t be in the positions she originally planned for them, and I was sure it had to be upsetting since for six years all Morgan ever wanted was to marry Anil.

″It was a little awkward last night at the rehearsal dinner,” Morgan admitted to me in a low voice. “I’m just glad he didn’t think to bring his new little bitch of a girlfriend.”

Last night at the wedding rehearsal was the first time Morgan had laid eyes on Anil since she found out about the new girlfriend. And it was the first time Morgan had spoken to him (without a police presence) since the little episode with the bonfire on the front lawn of the house. But they were surprisingly civil toward each other, which to me, was sort of the calm before the storm.

″And Derek? You didn’t want him to come?”

″I did, but he said he’d feel too awkward and it might take some of the spotlight off Brit if Anil and I both brought new significant others.”

″And he’s your new significant other?”

″I think so,” Morgan told me with a shy smile. “I’m sure by the end of today, any residual feelings I still might have for Anil will definitely be gone. I just have to get through the church part, and then I can get drunk and everything will be fine.”

″Ah, but look what happened to me the last time I got drunk at a wedding.” I pointed to my overflowing breasts, and Morgan broke out in laughter.

″So what was that with Lacey earlier?” she asked, with an expression of delight on her face. “I totally thought she was about to plant one on you, but was too afraid of Brit having a hissy fit about both of you ruining your lipstick!”

″I know!” I exclaimed.

″You know if you can’t find a guy, with those tits you can always switch and go for the other side!” Laughing, she poked at my overflowing chest area.

″You’re such a bitch!” I told her, poking her in the boob in return.

″Casey! Morgan! Stop touching each other!” Brit screeched as she was about to enter the church vestibule. Even with the heavy doors closed, I’m sure everyone inside heard her. Morgan and I, both with our eyes downcast, hurried to her side once again.

At the front of the church, I took slow, shallow breaths and tried not to fidget as Brit took her time walking down the aisle to “Here Comes the Bride.” I was conscious of the packed congregation and happy no one was looking at me. I was also happy that for the first time in my life, I didn’t have to try to suck in my stomach standing in front of this many people. I thought I looked pretty good, until I caught sight of Morgan and Lacey,both of whom are maybe a size two. So then I started thinking about how soon—in about six months—my size eight would seem positively anorexic, so I felt better. But I had to say, even feeling self-conscious, my breasts looked so much better than either one of theirs. Even Brit in her overpriced Manolo Blahnik shoes couldn’t compare to my chest today.

The ceremony itself went off without a hitch, just as perfect as Brit expected it to be. Tom looked like the picture of a perfect groom in his grey morning coat and had tears in his eyes as Brit walked down the aisle. It was a long service and I felt an onset of nausea hit about the halfway mark, but I managed to keep the pasted smile on my face. Not one cough, sneeze, or baby cry marred the ceremony, and I knew Brit would literally kill me in the church if I did something that wasn’t according to her carved-in-stone plan—like rush to the washroom to vomit. So I did my best and managed not to throw up as Tom and Brit were named husband and wife. Not that seeing Brit get married made me want to vomit—not that I’d blame myself if I was nauseated, since that was all I’d been hearing about for the last twenty years! I wondered what Brit would find to obsess about now that her wedding day was finally here.

After the wedding party filed out of the church, there was a cool breeze, which made me feel better as I stepped outside on Tom’s brother Richard’s arm. “Whew! Glad that’s over.”

″I thought it went very well,” Richard replied with a frown. Tom is a sweet and unassuming type of guy and often so quiet you forget he’s in the room. Last night at the rehearsal dinner was the first time I’d met his family, and I have to say Tom got the lion’s share of the personality in his family. Richard and the other brother, Henry, are, well, bland. They run an accounting firm together, never have been married, and still live at home. Not sure how Brit fits in with that family. Christmas might be interesting for her.

Richard dropped my arm and made a beeline for Tom, leaving me teetering on the stairs in my high heels. I argued with Brit about wearing them—along with the constant threat of throwing up, I didn’t want to have to worry about falling over in the four-inch heels. I was surprised I’d made it through the day so far, using halting little steps to try to keep my balance. Richard’s quick release threw that precarious balance out of whack, and I started to sway on the stairs.

And then I flashed back to the last wedding I was at—wearing yet another bridesmaid’s gown (albeit not as nice as this one—sorry, Darcy) and standing outside the church, looking around for Mike, boyfriend atthe time. Who, if you recall with perfect clarity as I was doing right then, was in the coatroom, getting nasty with someone other than me. This, of course, led to me getting drunk and J.B. comforting me in the only way he knew how.

″And that’s how I got you,” I said aloud, one hand resting on my stomach.

″Are you okay?” J.B. asked. I hadn’t even noticed him in front of me. But there he was, standing in front of me with Cooper and Emma, all three with concerned expressions on their faces.

″Fine.” I could feel myself blush a little, embarrassed to be caught talking aloud.

″You’re holding your stomach,” J.B. pointed to the area in question.

″I’m fine.” I went to take a step down, but my heel caught in a tiny gap in the stone and I literally fell into J.B.’s arms. “Sorry.”

″Can’t say I mind,” he said, and when I looked up, he was staring at my chest.

″Stop that.” I knew I should push him away, but I found myself enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

″Do you blame me? They were great before, but now—wow!”

″Stop that!” Cooper ordered with a wince. “It’s bad enough I’m getting this constant reminder of the two of you together. It’s actually worse than walking in on you.”

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