lunchtime, but call if you need anything.”
Exhaling slowly, I say, “Can you check CeeCee is OK? Mamma’s going in to help her, but that could actually hinder her.” My mamma is the clumsiest cook there is. She’s liable to set the café on fire if you don’t watch her.
“They’ll be fine, but I’ll pop over and check. Let me know what the doctor says.” He kisses my forehead. “Sleep tight. I’ll call at lunch to check on you.”
I sink into the softness of the pillow. It’s only a moment before I drift off into a restless dream-filled sleep.
An hour or two later I startle awake, suddenly sure I know what’s wrong. I throw back the quilt, and race to the bathroom cupboard. In the very back are boxes of tests. I take one and rip the packaging open, hastily reading the instructions as I go, even though I’ve done so many before I’ve committed them to memory.
Two minutes. I’ll know in two minutes. My somber mood is instantly replaced with hope. Maybe I’m pregnant?
One hundred and twenty seconds have never moved so slowly, as I wait with the stick sitting on the window ledge, as if it’s not something life-changing, as it so clearly is.
I think of how I’ll tell Damon. Sweet things, I’ve heard, like putting a bun in the oven, and asking him to open it. Will he understand? Or buying booties, and wrapping them up. Or…
Two minutes are up. With a deep breath I peer at the test. One line shrieks out in neon pink. Negative. Devastatingly, positively, negative.
I ditch the test in the bin, and head back to bed, not bothering to wipe at the tears as they fall.
A knock at the door wakes me. Glancing at the time, I see it’s only eleven. Too early for the doctor. I amble out of bed, not bothering to check my reflection in the mirror.
I press my face up to the peephole. It’s Sarah. I smile, in spite of myself. I have the best friends.
“Hey,” she says as I motion for her to come in.
“Hey.”
“CeeCee told us you were sick. She made you a basket of goodies, and I brought you some magazines.”
I take the proffered bag, and say thanks.
“Get back into bed, Lil. You look positively green.”
I give her a rueful smile. “I thought I was pregnant, but I’m not.”
“Aw, Lil. I’m sorry.” She follows me to my room and sits on the end of the bed. “Maybe, you know, once all the wedding stuff is organized, and after all your Christmas orders are sorted, your body will slow down, and it’ll just happen.” Her black bangs hang over her eyebrows, highlighting the genuine look in her eyes.
“It’s stupid worrying over it, already, isn’t it?”
“It’s not stupid, Lil. You’ve wanted to be a mom your whole life. It will happen, but right now you’ve got so much on. It’s just a matter of time.”
I’ve been taking pregnancy tests almost weekly since Easter. But Sarah is probably right: once things settle down my body will just know, and it’ll happen. The yearning for a child is almost indescribable sometimes, is all.
“You’re right,” I agree. “There’s still so many little things that need to be organized and I feel awful leaving CeeCee at work. Is she OK?”
Sarah scrunches up her nose. “She’s…” Her voice trails off.
“Mamma?” I know by Sarah’s expression there’s been some kind of drama at the café.
She nods. “I don’t know how to tell you, Lil. So I’ll just say it. She somehow tripped and knocked your display fridge over. The wedding cake…” Sarah pales. “I’m sorry, Lil. It’s completely ruined.”
I gasp, picturing the three tiers of perfection toppling over and smashing to the floor. “Please tell me you’re joking,” I whisper through my hands.
“I’m so sorry, Lil. Your mamma is beside herself with worry. But I’m sure we can fix it. We can all help…”
“But…how?” I’m beginning to feel as though my wedding is cursed.
She shrugs. “CeeCee said don’t worry, you can make another one when you’re back.”
I’m too stunned to speak. That cake took us the better part of a whole day. Will we even have enough time to make another one? I want to weep with the worry I feel. “I can’t believe it. How could she knock over a huge fridge?”
“She feels terrible, Lil.”
I sigh, thinking of Mamma, I know she’ll be upset, and I fight hard to let the anger subside. “I guess we can always make another one…”
Sarah presses on. “Good news. Missy said Bessie’s finished our bridesmaid dresses and yours isn’t far away.”
I smile, Sarah’s managed to change the subject to something more positive. At least that’s one thing Mamma can’t ruin. “I can’t wait to see them.” The girls have mink satin gowns, similar to my dress, but with a high back. They’re cut on the bias and swirl out at the bottom like a creamy wave. When we hunted for material, and held up the color next to each of their faces, it suited them so perfectly they instantly agreed on that fabric. I’d expected the usual bridesmaid disagreements, especially as all of us can be vocal when we dig our heels in, but, so far, everyone seems happy with my choices. Bessie from the haberdashery shop designed them, and they’re truly magnificent.
“When you’re feeling better we’ll all go and you can see what you think.” Her forehead furrows.
“What?”
“There was one other thing, though, being relayed like Chinese whispers, we might have misunderstood, because it doesn’t seem right…”
“What doesn’t?”
Sarah takes a deep breath and says, “Well, Bessie told Missy that Damon’s mother called in to see your dress.”
“Really? I haven’t even seen it!”
Sarah swallows hard. “She told Bessie to make it short, to cut it above knee length…”
I gasp. “What? Why would she do that?”
“So you didn’t ask her? That is so odd! Don’t worry. Bessie thought the whole idea was ridiculous so she said to Olivia that unless you come and tell her yourself, she’s designing the dress the way you asked.”
My mouth hangs open. Why would she do such a thing? I tell Sarah about the centerpieces, and about alluding to the fact Damon was visiting his so-called high-school sweetheart, and how they were perfect for each other.
“So
