by Cassia Leo
I sigh as we turn the corner at 9th Avenue. “Houston suspects something. I’m going to have to tell him about Tessa.”
Kenny shakes his head, but I can’t see his eyes behind those new prescription sunglasses he’s been wearing all summer. “I’d say I told you so, but that’s not my style. What I will say is that you have nothing to worry about. You and Houston are as solid as my buns of steel.”
“That’s comforting,” I mutter.
He smiles, reaching for my hand. “I know, feel them. They’re beautiful. I’ve been working with that new trainer. I’m deadlifting 325 now.”
I smile, then I realize I’m not going to be able to deadlift anything at the gym until I find out if I’m pregnant. “Yeah, well, I deadlift a twenty-four-pound baby almost all day long, so I’m sure by the end of the day I’ve deadlifted more than you.”
“You know, Rory, if you need someone else to look in on Austin and Grandma Patty while you’re gone, I’m more than happy to do it. You know the old saying, ‘Keep Austin weird.’ I believe that’s Uncle Kenny’s job.”
I squeeze his arm. “I’d love that.”
We arrive at Contessa Designs eight minutes before nine a.m. and Tessa still hasn’t arrived. My doctor’s appointment is at 10:30 a.m. I hope Tessa doesn’t decide to come in late today because it’s a Saturday. I need this issue with the invitations solved and behind me.
“I got an email from my editor. She says I’m not going to hear from her until Houston and I are back from Maui.”
“Awesome!” Kenny says, holding up his hand for a high five.
I lightly smack my hand against his. “Yeah, great. Now I have no excuse to bring my laptop on the honeymoon and I’m not going to be able to get any work done. I’ll be swamped when I get back.”
Kenny purses his lips. “Rory, it’s a honeymoon, not a business trip. Treat it as such.”
At ten minutes past nine, I start to feel physically ill. Kenny is standing with his hands cupped against the glass storefront, trying to peek inside the shop.
“Ooh… She has one of those cube-y artificial intelligence things in there. She probably uses it for evil. ‘Cubic, remind me that tomorrow I have to murder my parents,’” he says with a giggle.
“I’m going to have to go home and tell Houston.”
“Tell Houston what?”
Kenny and I spin around and stare wide-eyed as Tessa approaches the front door. “Good morning,” we say in unison.
She smiles. “A good morning for murdering my parents,” she says, blowing on her fingernails before she sticks the key in the lock.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was just…” Kenny steps behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders as he leans in and whispers in my ear, “Mommy, help me.”
I shrug him off. “Tessa, we need to talk about the invitations.”
She smiles as she pushes the door open and holds it for us. “Sure. Was there a problem with the invites?”
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans to keep myself from punching her in her smug face as I walk into the shop. “Yes, there was a problem.”
“Have a seat,” she replies, waving us toward two ivory armchairs in a sitting area to the right.
I watch as she places her purse on top of her vintage desk then takes a seat across from us in a plush wine-colored armchair. “At least two of the guests received invitations with the wrong date. Do you know how that could have happened?”
She looks back and forth between Kenny and me for a moment, then she sighs as her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re… you’re sorry? Are you saying you did it on purpose?”
She stares at the small mirrored coffee table between us as she speaks. “When you called me asking me to make your invitations, I didn’t know if you were doing it to rub it in my face or, like you said, you just really loved my work.” She swallows hard. “I kept telling myself to be a professional. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t do anything stupid… But then Eric and I got in a fight and I… I had a few drinks. I’m not supposed to drink, but it was just standing there on my desk… That stupid bottle of champagne given to me by a client who knows nothing about my… about my…”
“Stop.”
Tessa looks up at me in confusion, as if she just realized who she was speaking to.
“You don’t have to explain,” I continue, taking a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m sorry.”
She looks even more confused now. “For what?”
“For asking you to do the invitations. I should never have come here. And not because you kind of screwed me, but because you’re right. You had no way of knowing whether I was here to rub the wedding in your face. I wasn’t, by the way. I just… love your work. You… have a gift.” I glance at Kenny and he’s dabbing his finger at the corner of his eye. “Kenny, are you crying?”
“Just look away,” he whispers.
I chuckle as I reach out and grab his hand to give it a squeeze. “Oh, Kenny, I love you.” I hear a loud sniff and when I look at Tessa, she’s wiping away tears.
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I’m just really emotional lately,” she says.
I shake my head as I realize I’m the one who’s possibly pregnant and these two are the ones crying. “Tessa, I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Was it just those two invitations, or were there more?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “It was just the two. I did it to his uncle Ned because he always hated me. And the other couple, you were talking to one of them on the phone while you were here. I think it was the woman. And you sounded like good friends, so…”
I feel a twinge of anger at this confession, but I try not to let it show. “Thank you for your honesty.”
She smiles. “I really am sorry. I was just in a bad place, but everything’s better now. In fact, I’m getting married too.” She holds out her hand to show me a beautiful diamond ring on her left hand. “Eric and I worked everything out and we’re getting married in Massachusetts in the fall. Eric’s family is from Massachusetts.”
I try not to smile too broadly as I say a silent prayer that Eric and Tessa will move to the East Coast to be near his family. “That’s fabulous. Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” she says, then she gasps. “You and Houston should come! Oh, hold on, let me get you an invite.”
She leaps to her feet and races through a door into a back office area. As soon as the door closes behind her, I turn to Kenny. His eyes are wide with shock.
“Oh, my God. What do I do?” I ask, my heart racing. “I can’t accept an invitation to her wedding.”
Kenny shakes his head. “This is your fault for being so damn nice to her. Now she wants to be your friend. If she murders her parents, just imagine what she does to her friends.” He stands up quickly. “We should just leave. Hurry before she comes back.”
“We can’t just leave,” I say, batting his hands away as he tries to pull me out of the chair.
“Rory, you’re like that character in the scary movie who wants to investigate. Don’t just sit there. Run! Run your booty off before Tess-zilla catches you!”
“Tess-zilla?”
Kenny freezes at the sound of Tessa’s voice. I slowly tilt my head to the side to see past Kenny, and sure enough, Tessa is standing right there next to her desk.
“Kenny has an overactive imagination,” I say. “And he used to act in the theater.”
Kenny looks at me like I’m crazy and I shoot him a deadly glare meant to communicate the need to play along. “Oh, yes!” he squeals as he turns around to face Tessa. “I wanted to be an actress when I was in high school. I auditioned for the part of Juliet because yummy Hayden Blackley was playing Romeo, but stupid Mrs. Garrett and her stupid perpetuation of gender roles in the theater. As if the whole school didn’t know she hadn’t shaved her pits in twenty years.”
Tessa stares at him, slack-jawed and dumbfounded.
I take the op
portunity to stand up and approach the desk. “Sorry about that. We should probably get going. Thanks for talking to me… and telling me the truth.”
She flashes me a tight smile. “Sure.” She holds out a creamy lavender envelope. “Here’s your invitation. I realize this is kind of weird. And I wouldn’t expect you guys to come. I mean, not in a million years, right?” We both chuckle, though I make a concerted effort not to laugh harder than her. “But my therapist says I’m ready to start making amends. So if you do decide to come, we’d be… delighted to see you there.”
I’ve never seen someone look more uncomfortable in my life. I sigh as I realize I can’t reject her invitation. I have to at least accept the invitation, then I can go home and mail her the RSVP saying that we can’t make it. But if I take this invitation, then that means….
“Do you want to come to our wedding?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I mean, you already have all the information.”
Did I really just say that? I made it sound as if I’m only inviting her because she already knows where and when it’s going to take place.
She smiles. “Thanks. I’ll talk to Eric about it and see if we can drop by.”
I nod as I smile back. “Great.” I continue nodding my head for far too long. “Great. We’ll just get out of your hair.”
“Oh, don’t forget your invite,” she replies as I begin to turn around.
I smile as I reach for the lavender envelope. “Of course.” I swallow hard as I clutch the invitation to my chest. “See you around.”
Luckily, Austin is awake by the time Rory returns from the bakery. Rory is obviously in a rush and worried that she’s going to miss her 10:30 a.m. appointment, so I offer to drive her to the clinic myself. This will win me some points for later when I tell her I have to go into work.
Our family practitioner, Dr. Winslow, is more than happy to squeeze in a checkup for Austin while Rory is whisked away by an assistant to another room to have her blood drawn. Austin is asleep and drooling on my shoulder as Winslow informs me that our suspicions were correct. Austin indeed has contracted conjunctivitis, but we won’t know if it’s bacterial or viral for another week. If it’s bacterial, the eye ointment he gives us should clear it up before the wedding. If it’s viral, it may or may not clear up on its own before then.
Winslow hands me the prescription for the ointment as Rory reenters the exam room. “You want to try to get it on the inside of his lower eyelid. One of you will probably have to restrain him while the other applies the ointment.”
Rory takes the prescription from my hand and glances at Winslow’s chicken scratch. “What is this for?”
Winslow smiles. “It’s pink eye, as you both suspected, so it’s quite contagious. Make sure you wash your hands well before and after you apply the ointment.” He closes Austin’s medical file as he heads for the door. “It’s probably best if you three just wait in here. The lab should have your test results in just a few minutes.”
As soon as the door falls closed, Rory looks up at me with desperation in her eyes. “He has pink eye? Did he say how long it would take to clear up?”
“He said he should be fine in time for the wedding.”
She covers her face with her hands, and shakes her head. “I have to tell you something.”
I get a bad feeling in the pit of my belly when she says this. “What do you have to tell me?”
She uncovers her face and looks up at me. “I used Tessa for our wedding invitations.”
“You what?”
Austin is startled by the intensity of my voice. He raises his head from my shoulder, jutting out his bottom lip as he begins to whimper.
“I’ll take him,” Rory says, reaching for Austin.
I turn away so she can’t reach him. “Why would you use her?” I ask calmly as I try to rock Austin back to sleep.
Rory’s gaze is still fixed on the baby as she tries to think of a response. “It just happened. I saw some of her invitations, but I didn’t know they were hers.”
“How could you not know they were hers?”
“Because the name of the company was… Contessa Designs.”
I cock an eyebrow as I glare at her. “Are you kidding me?”
“I realize how stupid it sounds… now. But when I called her eight weeks ago, she didn’t seem to recognize me. I was sure it wasn’t her. Now I realize I was just in denial.”
“In denial?” I reply with a chuckle. “Un-fucking-believable… So this is what the whole invitation debacle is about? Your little secret backfired on you?”
Austin is still fussing and Rory is giving me that look, the look that says, How long are you going to pretend you can shut him up faster than my boob?
I roll my eyes as I step aside so she can sit down on the chair with the worn blue fabric and wooden arms. Then I hand her the baby. As soon as she lifts her shirt, Austin is feeling around for his flesh bottle. She unsnaps the front of her bra and he latches on like a champ.
When I look up at Rory, she’s smiling as she whispers something to him that I can’t hear. Then she kisses his temple and I can’t help but smile. I shake my head as I realize there’s no fucking way I can stay mad at this woman.
“So what’s happening with the invitations?” I ask, all the harshness in my voice wiped clean.
She looks up at me, an apology in her eyes. “We worked everything out, but….”
“But what?”
She brushes her fingers through Austin’s hair for a few seconds before she answers. “I invited her to the wedding.”
I immediately start laughing, and it takes me a few seconds to stop. “You are something else.”
“I had to. She invited me to her wedding—in Massachusetts.”
I shake my head. “This is just what I need. My ex-wife and my fiancée getting chummy.”
“She’s the one who invited me first.”
“But, Daddy, she hit me first.”
“She did hit me first.”
“Which is exactly why you’re not supposed to hire her or invite her to the wedding,” I reply. “What’s next? Is she gonna share a bed with us in Maui?”
She slides her finger into the corner of Austin’s mouth to stop the suckling now that he’s back to sleep. “I’m sorry. I messed up. But I really don’t think we have to worry about her coming to the wedding. She looked just as horrified by my invitation as I was by hers.”
I step forward to take him from her while she fixes her bra and shirt. He barely stirs as I fold him into my arms. I kiss the top of his head and think about what it would be like to have another one of these in eight or nine months. My chest is flooded with warmth at the thought of Austin running around the yard of our lake house with his little brother or sister.
Rory’s still sitting in the chair, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped in front of her mouth, as if she’s praying. I open my mouth to speak, but the exam room door swings inward, interrupting me.
Dr. Winslow’s face looks bright and cheerful as he announces, “You’re pregnant!”
Rory stands from the chair, her eyes widening as she stares at the doctor. “But I’m on the pill. I don’t understand how this happened.”
Winslow’s face becomes a bit more sober when he realizes this is not the news Rory wanted. “Oh, well, these things happen. Especially if you have a history of it happening before, as in your case.”
“So I’m just going to keep getting pregnant?”
I press my lips together to hold back my laughter. Winslow looks at me and seems to relax as he turns back to Rory.
After some additional reassurance that Rory has many other birth-control options at her disposal, we leave Winslow’s office and I drop Rory and Austin off at the apartment before I go to pick up his prescription. By the time I get home thirty minutes later, they’re both asleep in our bed while Grandma Patricia is busy making something in the kitchen.
Perfect.
I set the prescription down on the kitchen counter. “When Rory wakes up, can you give her this and let her know I’ll be back by three?”
* * *
The first and second calls from Rory come while I’m helping the guys load cases of beer onto a pallet. The sounds of the warehouse drown out the ringtone and it isn’t until I stop moving for a moment, while watching Seth and Jorge wrap the pallet in plastic, that I feel the vibration of the third call come through.
I step out of the warehouse onto the loading dock to answer the call. “Hey, baby. What’s going on?”
“You promised you were staying home today,” she replies, sounding annoyed.
I jump off the dock onto the asphalt parking lot to put some more distance between me and the guys. “I know, but we have a big shipment going out and you were asleep, so I thought I’d come in to lend a hand. I’ll be home in less than an hour.”
“I need to give Austin his medicine and I need you to hold him down while I do it.”
“Ask your mom to help you. That’s what she’s there for.”
“She’s not here!”
“What? Why? Where did she go?”
Rory sighs. “I don’t know. She said she was going to the store, but she’s been gone over an hour. I called her before I called you, but she didn’t answer. She just texted me telling me she would be home soon. She’s probably having sex with her secret boyfriend.”
I laugh as I realize Patricia’s trying to get some before she’s stuck with the baby for a week. “I’ll be home in ten minutes.”
Patricia gets back to the apartment shortly after I get there. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s wearing a lazy freshly fucked smile. Rory sits next to me on the sofa, her gaze following her mother across the living room. Patricia heads straight for the baby’s bedroom without saying a word.