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“Gentlemen, can you give us a minute, please?” he asks.
He speaks in English and I know some of his groomsmen speak little to no English, but they all seem to get the message as the others start to file out of the room. Soon, it’s just Alex and I left in the room.
“What is it?” he asks.
I want to speak, to reassure him, but I have a huge lump in my throat, and all I can do is shake my head. To tell him that it’s not bad news.
“Cindy, you’re really worrying me now,” he says, a suddenly deep sadness filling his eyes.
I take a deep breath and I swallow hard, pushing away the lump, and when I finally get my words to come out, my voice sounds shaky.
“Alex, I’m sorry to do this now,” I say. “I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t and then I told myself I’d tell you later, but I have to tell you before we get married. I don’t know why, but I just know I have to.”
“So, we’re still getting married,” he says, looking relieved.
“Yes,” I say quickly. “God, yes. Of course, yes. I just … Alex, I’m pregnant.”
For a second he just looks at me like I haven’t spoken and then his face opens out into a wide smile. It is the widest smile I have ever seen on his face. Then he starts to laugh with pure joy. In a flash, he closes the gap between us and, wrapping his arms around me, he picks me and whirls me around. I laugh too. My veil flies behind me and swirls around us, until it is wrapped around us.
“Alex,” I whisper in his ear.
“What?” he whispers back.
“You’re pleased?”
“Pleased? I’m deliriously, fantastically, and ecstatically pleased,” he says.
I feel sheer relief flood me and it hits me why I wanted to wait until after the wedding to tell him about this and why I suddenly knew that I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t sure whether he would be happy about this. We’ve never really talked about when or even if we’d have kids.
“Have I spoilt it by coming here, though? Now you won’t get to turn around and see me coming to you in my white dress.”
“Oh, Cindy. You haven’t spoilt anything for me. You coming here to tell me I’m going to be a dad is something I’ll remember to the day I die. It’s … well … different. A real Cindy Forrester thing to have done,” he says, not able to keep the grin off his face for even a second. “Plus it’s the best wedding gift anyone could have ever given me.”
He sets me back down on my feet and untangles us from my long veil, then he leans in to kiss me and I jerk back.
“Lipstick,” I caution with a laugh. “My eyes are probably enough of a mess with all the tears.”
“Mess? You look absolutely beautiful,” he says seriously.
He kisses my cheek tenderly. I hug him to me again, then release him quickly before I can start to feel the way my body responds to being in his arms.
“I have to go,” I say. “I’m due to get married in less than five minutes and I need to get my make-up fixed first.”
“Yes, go. You don’t want to keep your poor groom waiting at the altar.”
“Oh, Alex, I can’t wait to become Mrs. Obolensky.”
“Get in the queue. I was here first,” he teases.
“Stop bickering. We’re not married yet,” I throw over my shoulder as I hurry towards the door.
“I love you,” Alex calls.
I’m in the hallway when I shout the sentiment back to him and smile to myself as I hear the collective sigh of relief from the groomsmen who were lining the hallway and are now filing back into the room.
I debate skipping getting my make-up fixed, but I decide against it. I’m the bride. It’s tradition for me to be late. And besides, I plan on only ever doing this once and I don’t want to look a mess for it.
I hurry back to my room, but rather than feeling like I’m running, this time, it feels like I am floating on air. As I get to the room where Rosa, Star, and Raven are waiting, I can hear that someone inside there has put on one of my favorite songs. I smile to myself.
Yes, it is a nice day for a white wedding.
A very nice day.
Epilogue
Alex
Eight Months Later
Babushka stands as Cindy and I walk into the room. Usually, I would gesture for her to sit back down, but today nothing will keep her in her seat. She comes towards us eagerly, her face filled with joy and anticipation. Completely ignoring me, she goes towards Cindy and peers at the bundle Cindy is carrying.
“Babushka, meet your great, great nephew, Leonid Joseph Obolensky,” I say.
