Page 30 of A Man in Uniform

Epilogue

Story

“Ifeel like a cow.”Holding out my arms, I look down at the area where I once had feet. “Look at me, I'm huge.”

“Story, you don't look like a cow.” My brother Ben rests his hands on my shoulders. “You look beautiful, plus you're pregnant. So. . .”

My doctor told me the same thing, I'm pregnant. Not fat,pregnant.

But when I look in the mirror and see the giant balloon that was once my stomach, and the fact that I no longer have ankles, it's a little hard to believe. Pregnancy has not been easy on me so far.

I'm seven months along, but feel like I could pop any day. It doesn't help either that I had morning sickness the first five months, and heartburn that made me think the baby's using a furnace to keep warm in there.

Pinning the flower in my hair, my brother steps back. Folding his arms over his chest, he holds a smug smile.

“What?” I ask, hand falling to my hip. I'm being dramatic, I know. Another side effect of all the weight hanging off my front and the fact my hormones are in control.

He doesn't speak, he just shakes his head. Leaning against the mantle over the fireplace, he wipes a tear from his eye.

“What is it?” Waddling over to him, I'm still barefoot, because I'm waiting as long as I can before putting my shoes on. The swelling of my ankles has started to migrate to my feet, and shoes are becoming more of a struggle.

“You just look so beautiful, dad would be so happy and proud to see you like this. You're glowing, Story.”

Stepping to him, I straighten his tie. All day I've been holding back the tears, and I can't stop them, not anymore. “Yeah, you think so?”

Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he pulls me into his chest. “There's not a doubt in my mind. And I'm proud of you too.” Kissing my forehead, he holds my face up. “I might be the big brother, but I'm really proud of you.”

The tears slowly flow over my face as I nod my head. I don't know what to say.

My brother embraces me, and hugs me like our father used to.

“Are you ready for this?” Ben asks, scooping up my bouquet and placing it in my hand.

“Yes, definitely.” Holding the flowers up, he helps me slip my feet into the flats by the door.

The back door opens and my mother pokes her head in. “Hey, they're ready for you.” Smiling brightly, she says, “Story, you look beautiful. You were right, that is definitely the dress.”

Finding a dress for our wedding, one that could be altered easily with my growing tummy, had been tough. But this one is perfect. It's a gorgeous white lace, and the top has halter style straps. Perfect to make me feel well supported with my bigger chest.

There's a sparkling, silver sequin belt that rests just above my belly, and the bottom flows out with a loose shear and a lace overlay.

The second I put it on, I knew it was the one. I feel beautiful in it, and the way the bottom has so much movement, I knew there was room if I needed it.

My mother walks up and helps fix the purple orchid pin in my hair. “Thanks,” I say.

“I tried, Mom,” my brother says, holding his arms out, and shrugging his shoulders. “But I'm sure you remember how bad I am with hair.”

Laughing, my mother lowers her head. “I sure do. I remember it taking me an hour to brush that knot out of Story's hair when you tried to braid it for her when you guys were younger.”

Rolling my eyes, I jokingly spat, “God, that was horrible.” Elbowing him in the ribs, I laugh.

The soft sound of a violin starts to fill the room, seeping in from outside. Whipping her head in my direction, my mother says, “That's our cue.” Holding a small cluster of daisies, she heads for the door. “Let's get you married!” She yells, kicking one leg out to the side.

My lips form a soft circle, pushing out a smooth breath of air.

Here we go, I'm about to be married. I'll be Mrs. Story Saint in a few minutes.Closing my eyes, I try to cool my nerves.

It's hard to tell if the fluttering in my stomach is just butterflies, or if the baby's toes are tickling against the wall. Placing a palm against my belly, I look up to the ceiling.

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