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Everyone is here, mostly. Even Jake’s mother came in from out of town. She came to brunch with me, and to much amazement, Toia when we all went to get our hair and nails done. They say that boys look for women who remind them of their mothers. I’m inclined to agree. That lady is the definition of Type A.
All of it is, so far, going off without a hitch. So why am I nervous, and stressed, and even a little sad?
“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s hard to breathe. Nothing to do with the fit of the dress or the new and growing weight I’m carrying—which, if I may blow my own horn, I am carrying off fabulously well. There was really only one thing I wanted to happen on this day, and now that the countdown has begun it doesn’t look like it’s going to.
Chester peeks in through the bathroom door. “Janie I... holy shit, girl, you are drop-dead gorgeous in that dress. Um…” he blinks, and then remembers what he’s here for, “there’s this man that wants to see you…”
My heart stops for a moment. Chester has the door opened just enough that I can see a face behind and above him.
“Yeah,” Chester says when he sees my open mouth and wide eyes. “Hey, Toia! Let’s go sneak a cocktail off the bar.”
Toia holds up a finger, and pulls a pin from between her lips. “Almost,” she says. “Everyone… just… hold… there.” She stands back to look me over, and bids me turn one way and then the other. Finally, she smiles, and mutters something in a foreign language. Maybe Russian. She speaks three other languages, so who knows? “Beautiful,” she says quietly.
“I agree,” my father says as Chester lets him into the room.
“You made it.” The words catch in my throat. Chester and Toia leave us alone. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Your, ah… father-in-law managed to get me here.”
“Reginald?” I want to laugh, and I almost do. “Wow.”
For a long moment, we just stare at one another. I’m six years old again, just for a few heartbeats.
He looks me over, and his eyes settle on my belly. “So, it’s a girl?”
I had been waiting to tell him. Someone must have gotten to him first. Probably Chester. He can’t keep his mouth shut about anything. “It’s a girl.”
“I don’t want mess up your dress, so maybe—”
I’m off the little podium Toia had me standing on, my arms around my father, before he can finish the sentence. The smell of him fills my nose and memories cascade through my head. Sitting on his lap. Getting into his car after school. Burying a goldfish and crying into his shirt when the deed is done.
“I missed you so much.” The tears are going to mess up my makeup, but I don’t care. Toia’s some kind of makeup sorceress; she can fix it.
“I missed you, too, baby girl,” Dad says, holding me tight.
Eventually, he lets me go, and I let him go.
“I met Jake,” he says. “His, ah… driver picked me up from the airport. Seems like he’s head over heels about you. How are you feeling about all this?”
Nervous laughter takes me over. “Yeah. How am I feeling? That’s a good question. I have no idea, honestly.”
He chuckles with me, and nods slowly. “That’s about right.”
“Did you brin
g me back any wisdom from France?” I ask him hopefully. About now, I’d take a fortune cookie.
“Ah… well, in France they say that ‘love is the dawn of marriage, and marriage is the sunset of love.’” He smiles ruefully. “Does that help?”
“Are all French proverbs nihilistic?” I ask him.
Dad laughs, and shrugs. “Pretty much.”
“Then how about your own advice?”
He’s thoughtful for a moment. “You’ll have to try. Every day. No matter what comes up, you can never stop trying. Because if you do…” he breathes, and blinks rapidly before clearing his throat. “It takes work. Between any two people. But I think you’re probably up to the task.”
It’s good enough. Work is something I understand. Better than another bit of gloomy French “wisdom.” My nerves actually do settle down just a bit.
