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“Are you excited to get back to work?” he asked.
“Right now, the only thing I’m excited about is getting this child out of me.”
“You’re pregnant, it sucks, I know,” he said dryly. “Enough about that. Let’s talk aboutcakes.The wedding is four weeks out, and he needs a final design choice.”
No, we weren’t talking about my wedding. Maurice popped the question to Jason after two months of dating, and the big former SEAL immediately said yes. Helping Maurice do wedding planning was a welcome distraction from my exhausted, bloated state of being.
I was his maid of honor, but he let me off the hook for most of my duties. He said we could save the bachelor party for next year, after I gave birth, so I could have fun.
“I wish you had picked a wedding date after my pregnancy, too,” I murmured while looking through the cake catalog.
“Jason’s church had a cancellation,” Maurice said patiently. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this discussion. “It’s not my fault your due date is a weekafterthe wedding.” He gestured at my belly. “Tell your little stomach-spawn to hurry up. Hit the accelerator, or something!”
“Don’t tempt me,” I said. “I have half a mind to call the doctor and get a C-section donetomorrow. I don’t care if it’s a month early!”
*
Complaints aside, I managed to survive the four weeks leading up to Maurice’s wedding. And even though I wanted to crawl into a cave and hibernate until the birth, I squeezed into an Empress-cut dress and walked down the aisle at the church. By that point I felt like a beach ball with legs, and my back ached within minutes of standing up. In fact, it ached pretty much around the clock, now.
Like I said: pregnancy sucks. This was definitely going to be my one and only child.
Even though I felt gross, everyone oohed and ahhed as I walked down the aisle while Canon in D played. Mr. Howard was sitting on the aisle and gave me a friendly little thumbs-up as I walked by.
Jason was the most handsome groom I had ever seen in my life, resplendent in his uniform. He was wearing his Navy Dress Whites, while his five groomsmen wore their Navy Dress Blues. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Google it. Even the most plain-faced man looks sexy in these uniforms, and Jason was far from plain-faced.
But my eyes were immediately drawn to three of the groomsmen to his right. Asher smiled warmly at me, and Rogan gave me a little nod. Brady winked at me, then flicked his tongue against his upper lip! I gave him a look, which only made him grin harder in front of everyone. I tried not to laugh while taking my spot next to Maurice’s bridesmaids, his four sisters.
The ceremony itself was touching and beautiful. Maurice wore a white suit with a salmon-colored vest. The vows were sweet. I cried like a baby. Like I said, this pregnancy had turned me into a rollercoaster of hormone-driven emotions.
Afterward, at the reception, I spent a lot of time sitting. And eating. You had to sit to eat, and I liked doing both of those things in my state. But eventually I was pulled onto the dance floor by Brady.
“I know your feet hurt,” he said, “but I gotta get one dance with the woman of my dreams.”
How could I say no to that?
Brady and I slow-danced, which was difficult with my huge belly. Then Rogan cut-in for a faster song, which involved me awkwardly stepping back and forth in a semblance of dancing. Asher hopped in for the next slow dance, and this time he hugged me from behind while dancing so that my belly wouldn’t get in the way. I closed my eyes and savored the way I felt in his arms.
“Okay,” Asher said. “Now you can go sit down.”
I smiled. “I have one more name on my dance card, first.”
I found Maurice and Jason dancing in the crowd. Maurice was beaming up at his husband in a way I had never seen him smile before. I almost hated to cut in. Jason politely dipped his head and bowed out, and Maurice took my hands in his.
“This is such a beautiful wedding,” I said. “I’m so happy for you, Maurice.”
“I’m happy too,” he said. “I thought life was always going to be a struggle, constantly trying to get ahead, and constantly failing. I never thought I could feel this way.” He gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for everything, Heather.”
I snorted. “I didn’t help much with the planning. You did almost everything yourself.”
He shook his head. “I don’t mean about the wedding. I’m talking about how all of this started.”
“You mean you babysitting for the triplets while the dads and I were gone?”
“Before that. Stealing Mr. Howard’s prop diamond ring, and using it to sneak into the suite level at the Lakers game. If you hadn’t dragged me into that scheme, you wouldn’t have gotten the nannying job. Which means I wouldn’t have found Jason.”
“The moral of the story is that I’m always right, and you should always do whatever I tell you,” I said.
“This one good thingdoesnegate all the times you’ve gotten me in trouble.” He looked over my shoulder. “Thank you.”
