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“You having fun there, Dad?” I said. “Anything important to do today?”

He turned around, and blushed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just…it’s all so much to take in.”

And it was. There were so many preparations to make that I didn’t know where to begin. It had all seemed so easy when the wedding was fake. I’d breezed through the decisions enjoying myself. But this time had been hectic.

It was worth it, though. Worth it for this moment, to have my dad and my mom by my side.

When we pulled up at St. Thomas’s, I saw that Sara was waiting for me. I got out of the car, my dad holding me by the hand.

“You look a million dollars,” she said. “You always do.”

“I feel like it,” I said.

“Good?” she said.

“Heavy,” I said.

And I meant it. Because there was something no one could have expected coming my way that Summer. And I only realized after I’d told my parents that I was engaged to Alex, that I’d finally recovered from the madness of the last few weeks, the wedding, hiding out, the awful events that had followed.

I’d missed my period. Twice, by the time I finally went and bought a test from the drugstore. It was down the road fromThe Blue Orchid, and Zeke and I had been meeting with the new architect to discuss the features that would occupy the property, when I suddenly realized what had happened.

I was pregnant again. As a matter of fact, by the time we got to our wedding, I was well into my second trimester. So I couldn’t wear my beautiful wedding dress after all.

I told Alex before anyone else, of course. He was delighted, and couldn’t stop holding and kissing me and asking me when it was due, and whether I knew it was a boy or a girl (I didn’t, of course). And then I told Macy.

“You’re going to have a baby brother,” I said. “Or sister.”

“I hope it’s a sister,” she said philosophically. “Boys are gross.”

That made Alex laugh.

Of course, there was one conversation I hadn’t been looking forward to having. And luckily, I only had to have one half of it. The morning after Alex and I got engaged, I woke up to see him and Macy having breakfast on the balcony in the sunshine.

I opened the door, and what Macy turned and said to me was quite the shock.

“Mommy,” she said. “Mister Alex is my daddy.”

I looked at Alex, a smile playing on my lips.

“But you don’t have to call me that,” said Alex, quickly.

“He was my daddy, and then he lost you, because he wasn’t paying attention,” said Macy. “But now he’s found you again,” she added happily. “So he can be my daddy. If I want him to be.”

“I couldn’t put it better myself,” I said.

There wasn’t a hint of resentment, a hint of worry. There was only the gorgeous and wonderful way that Macy saw the world. And though I wouldn’t always see it that way, I loved her for saying it all the same.

“But you are,” said Macy, to Alex. “And mommy loves you.”

“Does she?” said Alex, winking conspiratorially at me.

“She said to me the other day she wants to marry you,” said Macy.

“I did NOT,” I said.

“She said it to Aunty Sara,” said Macy, rolling her eyes. “While I couldn’t hear.”

Today, there at the church, Macy was waiting inside, next to my mom. As I straightened my dress and made the final adjustments, my dad slipped on my corsage and Zeke stepped out.

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