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"Miss, suck in. What has happened in the last two weeks?" Prissy, as in Priscilla Beauchamp the wedding dress designer from hell says as I try to suck in. "You are fat," she says, her French accent sounding harsh coming from her.
"I'm not any bigger than I was then. Maybe you sewed it wrong," I reply, pissed as hell.
"Mon Dieu," she begins before going off on a tangent of French.
"I don't think that's called for, Prissy," Frannie says laughing.
"Gee thanks," I say, wishing I had taken French in school instead of Spanish. I’m a little proud of myself right now, I took the test to get my GED last week and passed on the first try.
"Whatever the issue, this dress won't be zipping up in the back. I am going to have to let it out," Prissy complains, helping me out of it. It's not your normal dress. A lovely champagne and lace. As soon as I saw it, I fell in love with it. It's totally my style, which I am finding out is Bohemian chic.
"Shit," I say, hating the idea of another delay. "I need to use the restroom," complaining, before grabbing my clothes as a wave of nausea washes over me. It’s been happening on and off, but thankfully I manage to stave off the need to puke all over the fancy bathroom. I hate snooty salespeople, but she is the best and I guess she's earned the right to be a raving bitch about everything. When I open the bathroom door fully dressed, Frannie and Susan are blocking the exit.
"Uh..." I say, not exactly wanting to discuss this with my fiancé’s mother. Lately, she really acts more like a friend than a future mother in law. "I think I might be pregnant," I whisper to them, looking past them for Prissy.
"Really?" Susan asks, perking up.
"I may or may not, but definitely may have an extra pregnancy test in my car," Frannie says causing both me and Susan to gape at her. "What?" she asks, shrugging.
"Do you have something you want to tell us?" I ask pointedly.
"We aren't telling anyone yet, so you have to act surprised when we do. Yes, I'm pregnant," she says putting her hands on her belly. For the first time, I realize she has a little bump action going on. "Baron is so freaking excited to share the news when it's time." Her own excitement shines through her every word.
I want that. Whatever, that feeling is Frannie has at the moment. That's what I want. She looks like a warrior. A warrior who would do anything to protect the little peanut growing in her belly. I can imagine a little baby boy laying on my chest, covered in that new baby goo. He'd look exactly like Marquise and grow up to be the kind of man his father is. Daddy is gonna make a good daddy, and that's a fucking fact. As for me, I want to be the kind of mother my own was. She was wonderful and caring right up until the end.
"Our lips are sealed," Susan says laughing. "But about that test?"
"Oh, yeah. Be right back," she says ducking out of the store. She comes back a few minutes later brandishing a local pharmacy bag. She hands the test to me.
"Chrissy, don't get fatter," Prissy says walking by us. “Come back in three days and we will try again."
"Okay," I say, not really sure what to say to that. What a bitch. I'll be so glad when the dress is finished.
"Vous ne devriez pas parler à des clients comme ça. Ne sois pas une connasse," Frannie says and Susan laughs. I really must learn French.
"Va te faire foutre!" Prissy exclaims.
"Real classy, Prissy." Frannie says. By this point, Susan has lost it and is giggling uncontrollably.
"What did you say?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"Basically, she shouldn't talk to customers like that and don't be a bitch. She told me to fuck off," Frannie says still laughing. Together, we walk to the door and go outside.
"Is it okay if I wait to take the test until I get home? I want to share this moment with Marquise," I say following them out to the car.
"Yes of course. You should make that memory with him," Susan says. We stand on the sidewalk for a few minutes chatting before we all get back into our cars and take off.
At home, I pace waiting for Marquise to get here. He was picking the band and the string quartet today, while I was at the dress shop. It's rare for us to be apart, and I wouldn't have it any other way but right now I am anxious as hell for him to return. About ten minutes ago I had to pee, so I took the test and left it on the counter to check when he gets back. I need to know. I hear the beep, beep of the alarm, and run to jump at him, catching him off guard. He drops the two bags he's holding, and he catches me in his big strong arms. Home.
