Not Another Family Wedding

by Jackie Lau

  They came to a stop. He hoped they wouldn’t waste too much time getting through Toronto, though he couldn’t say he minded spending more time with Natalie. But they were still a long way from Ottawa, and he’d prefer if their time together didn’t involve a traffic jam.

  He had to admit that the way Natalie cared for her sister—both when she was younger, and now—made his heart squeeze, but it also caused him sorrow. It was easy to imagine her as a mom.

  And he couldn’t give that to her.

  “I also can’t wrap my mind around the idea of Rebecca being a mother,” Natalie said. “I mean, I think she’d be a good mother, but I can remember changing her diapers—it’s hard to imagine her changing her own baby’s diapers. Where has the time gone? How is my baby sister old enough to have a baby of her own? It freaks me out. Plus, I’m terrified she’ll have postpartum depression like Mom. I know there are treatments, but nothing works a hundred percent of the time, does it?”

  “There’s lots that can be done, though.” He paused. “Where was your extended family when Rebecca was born? Why didn’t they help?”

  “My father’s family was in Toronto, and we didn’t see them a lot. They still hadn’t gotten over my parents’ marriage. Uncle Carey was living in Alberta at the time, and Aunt Louisa was going through her second divorce, plus she had her own children to look after. Sometimes she came by and went for walks with Mom, leaving Rebecca with me. Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Dennis were useless. Grandma did stop by on occasion, but those were short, tense visits. Grandma seemed to like Rebecca the best of the three of us, and not just because she was the baby. I’m pretty sure it’s also because she looks whiter than Seth and I do.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “It is.” Natalie paused. “I think we tried to protect Rebecca from our family, even when she was an adult, and we were mostly successful. That’s probably why she was okay with inviting them to the wedding. She doesn’t know how bad it is, and she’s willing to tolerate more than I am, just because people are family. The things we do for family.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’ll have to call Rebecca in a few days. Maybe I’ll go see her in a couple weeks. God, I hate that it’s like this between us.”

  They were quiet again for a little while. As they were passing Bowmanville, Connor glanced over and noticed that Natalie’s eyes were pink and she was silently crying.

  “Darling.” He wanted to put his arm around her and hold her, but he was driving.

  He was about to tell her not to cry, then stopped himself. He didn’t want her to feel like she wasn’t allowed to cry. If she needed to cry, she could.

  “This is embarrassing,” she said.

  “It’s fine.” He touched her leg. “I understand.”

  “You know what’s really embarrassing? I cried during the last movie I watched.”

  “Which movie was that?”

  “Moneyball.”

  He smiled. “Okay, that’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “Do you ever cry during movies?”

  “I cried during Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

  “Ooh. That’s a good one. Makes much more sense than crying during Moneyball.”

  “I also cried during The Notebook,” he admitted, “and I didn’t even like the movie.”

  She chuckled at that, and he was glad he’d made her laugh.

  He pulled off at the next service center and led her to a picnic table at the edge of the parking lot.

  “It’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

  “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to really know that. Does that make any sense?”

  “It does.”

  “It’s so complicated with Rebecca. And dammit, I wanted her to have the perfect wedding. But Aunt Louisa dropped that bombshell about our parents’ divorce, and then today I had a fight with Rebecca at brunch. Things never work out the way they’re supposed to.”

  He thought of Sharon. “No, they don’t.”

  He nuzzled the side of Natalie’s face, and she turned back and kissed him, a tentative kiss that he deepened. He didn’t want this to end.

  “Let’s stop in Kingston for dinner,” he said. “Unless you’re still full from those Cheetos.”

  “No, dinner would be good. I didn’t eat much at brunch.”

  Maybe at dinner he would admit his feelings for her. Then he’d tell her about how he saw his future. It wasn’t the kind of conversation you could put off when you were thirty-six, and he owed her the truth, plus he wanted to know before he was in too deep.

  But maybe he already was.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t see that conversation going well.

  * * *

  “You’ve been to this place before, I assume?” Natalie asked as they waited for a table at a wood oven pizzeria. When they’d gotten off the highway, she’d wondered how he knew where to go, then remembered he’d spent four years in Kingston when he’d gone to Queen’s for med school.

  “A bunch of times,” he said.

  She hesitated. “You went here with Sharon?”

  “I did.” He linked his hand with hers, as if in apology.

  They were led to a table at the back. Natalie ordered a pizza with prosciutto, brie, and pear. Connor ordered one with mushrooms, sausage, tomato sauce, and other things. They also got a small salad to split, but when it arrived, it was practically spilling over the sides of a large plate.

  She didn’t know how to feel right now. She was full of so many complicated feelings, and it was just too much to sort out at the moment.

  There was her fight with Rebecca and her parents’ divorce...but it was Connor who was occupying most of her thoughts now. He’d been great this weekend—he’d always been great, but she’d never fully appreciated what he did for her until this weekend. He accepted her the way she was and anchored her when she needed it, and despite everything that had happened, she’d had a lot of fun with him this weekend.

  He felt like more than a friend now. He’d made her feel cherished, for God’s sake.

  She really was abrasive and pessimistic, as Anthony had said; her argument with her sister had made that much clear. But somehow, that didn’t put Connor off. She felt like he actually liked that part of her; she felt like she might be lovable after all.

  Natalie had thought they could just have a weekend of fun, a weekend of sex, and now...

  “So,” she said, “back to work tomorrow, eh? It’ll be a bit of a relief to get back to my job, even though I have to read over my master’s student’s thesis. There’s something comforting in having a routine. My five cups of coffee in the morning—”

  “Five?”

  “I’m exaggerating a little. Most days I have three cups in the morning. Sometimes I do have five, but that’s rare.”

  He didn’t say anything, just regarded her over the top of his water glass, and as she looked into his brown eyes, the air seemed to whoosh out of her.

  Oh, she was fucked.

  So fucked.

  She’d assumed she would get over Connor, more or less, when she returned to her regularly-scheduled life in Ottawa, but now she knew it wouldn’t go away easily. And she couldn’t have him, not for more than a weekend. Perhaps he did care for her as more than a friend, but she had a terrible track record with relationships. She couldn’t bear to put Connor through what was almost certainly a doomed relationship. Besides, he likely wanted kids—she couldn’t let herself forget that.

  When they parted ways, it would hurt more than usual, because he was Connor, and she’d fallen hard for him.

  The pizza arrived, and she inelegantly stuffed a piece in her mouth. It was delicious, but she couldn’t fully appreciate it right now.

  * * *

  It was ten o’clock when they arrived back in Ottawa. Connor grabbed their suitcases and followed Natalie into her building.

  As soon as they reached her condo, they were kissing. He didn’t know who’d started it, but they were on each other as soo
n as the door closed behind them. He held her close and walked backward into the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers. Their clothes disappeared quickly, and he laid her down on the bed and began kissing her everywhere he could reach—he wanted as much of her as he could have.

  Soon, he was above her and inside her. She cried out beneath him, and it was everything.

  Afterward, she fell asleep with her head tucked against his chest. He could extricate himself from this position and quietly leave, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay the night.

  Since he would have to get up early to go home for some clean clothes before heading to work, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and set the alarm. Then he ran his hand up and down Natalie’s back. Her nearly-black hair was making an oddly-shaped halo around her head.

  He was afraid that if he asked her, she would say no.

  He was even more afraid that she would say yes...and then it would change to a no once she heard the rest of what he needed to say. She was thirty-six, like he was; she didn’t have all the time in the world to waste on a man like him if she wanted a family.

  Once upon a time, he’d thought that was in store for him, too. He’d gotten married when he was twenty-six, and when Sharon was halfway through residency, they’d started trying for a baby.

  But with each month that passed without success, he’d felt relieved.

  Finally, after ten months, Sharon had been a few days late.

  He’d been terrified.

  Then she’d gotten her period, and she’d been crushed. He’d tried to comfort her, even as he felt profound relief, but it seemed there was nothing he could say to console her.

  After a year, they’d gotten checked out.

  Sharon was fine, but Connor had a low sperm count.

  She’d pushed onward, immediately talking about their options. He’d briefly considered doing it for her because she wanted it so badly, then realized he couldn’t. He finally admitted to himself that he didn’t want kids, and it wasn’t something he could compromise on. Plus, things had been a little rocky with Sharon for several months. They weren’t the sort of couple who argued; rather, they’d become distant from one another.

  He’d shocked her by asking for a divorce, and once she’d accepted that it was the only way forward, he’d felt profoundly relieved once more. It wasn’t the life he’d planned, but it was the one that was necessary, and he’d quickly gotten accustomed to being single again. He hadn’t missed being married.

  But now, he was thinking he might want that again, with someone else.

  Connor looked down at Natalie, curled against him. Maybe he was wrong about her. She’d never mentioned wanting children, never talked about her ticking biological clock, despite being over thirty-five, and wasn’t desperately looking for a man. Nor had she talked about going to a sperm bank and doing it alone, which was the kind of thing Natalie would do. She wouldn’t be afraid of doing it by herself if she really wanted a kid. Well, maybe she would be, but she wouldn’t let on that was how she was feeling.

  Of course, when he and Natalie met up, they didn’t usually talk about anything serious, and he’d never told her why he and Sharon had gotten divorced. Still, Natalie would have mentioned kids at some point if it was important to her, right?

  It was silly of him to assume she wanted children because of how she’d looked after her sister. Connor liked kids, too, but he wanted them to go home to someone else at the end of the afternoon. He loved his niece and saw her regularly, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be a dad.

  He was thankful for his low sperm count, though he did find it a touch embarrassing. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did, and he’d told very few people.

  However, if it hadn’t been for his low sperm count, he and Sharon probably would have conceived, and he’d have a son or daughter now. If he had a child, he would be the father figure he needed to be; he wouldn’t have run from his responsibilities. But it was something he’d prefer not to do.

  Would they still be married if they had a kid? What if he’d wanted it as much as she did?

  No, he doubted they would have stayed together, not in the long run. He’d been slowly falling out of love with Sharon, which was why it had been easy to ask for the divorce when he realized he couldn’t give her what she wanted. In retrospect, he and Sharon had been too similar, aside from their opposite views on having children.

  Natalie, on the other hand, was very different from him, but they seemed to fit together just right.

  He smoothed his hand over her forehead. Perhaps it wasn’t hopeless after all. He would ask her soon. He’d cook her a nice meal next weekend and make a big deal of it. Knowing Natalie, she’d probably roll her eyes, but she’d be secretly pleased.

  So he hoped.

  Chapter 17

  The following Saturday afternoon, Natalie was walking down Rideau Street when she saw a familiar face up ahead, coming toward her. Was that...?

  Her heart pounded, and she considered turning down a side street to avoid him.

  But she was a tough thirty-six-year-old woman. She did not need to hide from her ex, even if he just so happened to be pushing a stroller and walking beside another woman.

  “Natalie!” He stopped when he was a few feet from her, in front of a shawarma and poutine restaurant. “How are you? It’s so good to see you again.”

  The last time she’d seen Anthony, they’d screamed at each other, but that was four years ago. Now he was perfectly pleasant, though it turned Natalie’s stomach to see him again, remembering how he’d made her feel broken. Unworthy.

  Those feelings came rushing back with a vengeance.

  “This is my wife, Carrie,” he said. “And this is Hailey.” He indicated the baby in the stroller. She was asleep, and she looked to be maybe two or three months old.

  Natalie opened her mouth. She figured a “Congratulations” or an “I’m happy for you” might be in order. Maybe, “Oh my God, she’s so cute!” However, the words stuck in her throat.

  Instead, she thought of how Connor deserved what Anthony had. The pretty wife with blonde ringlets, the pink-cheeked baby.

  And Natalie could not give that to him.

  “What about you?” Anthony asked. “How have you been?”

  “I’ve been great!” she said, though she was sure the faux cheer wasn’t fooling anyone, not even Baby Hailey.

  Natalie wasn’t envious of Carrie. She had no interest in Anthony, though she couldn’t help feeling a little pathetic in the face of familial bliss. Her ex had hit the standard milestones, and she hadn’t. Though, of course, she didn’t want all of them.

  They exchanged a few more inane pleasantries—was it her imagination, or did Anthony seem rather smug?—before she headed to the liquor store to buy a bottle of wine to bring to Connor’s tonight. Her hand shook as she pulled the bottle off the shelf.

  She had to put an end to this. Had to set Connor free to pursue a woman who could give him all that he deserved.

  He’d texted her a few days ago to invite her over for dinner, and she’d said yes, even though she didn’t know exactly what was going on between them, even though it could never be anything lasting.

  She considered calling to cancel their dinner plans, but she couldn’t do it. She wanted him, and as she’d realized at their quasi-romantic pizza dinner on Monday, this wouldn’t go away easily.

  One more night. She’d allow herself one more night.

  * * *

  At six thirty, Natalie knocked on the door of Connor’s townhome. She was holding a bottle of red wine, and underneath her jeans and blouse, she was wearing a bra and panties that actually matched.

  Connor answered the door, and she grinned at the sight of him. She also felt a hitch in her breathing, and her heart stuttered in her chest. She reacted so strongly to him now. Two weeks ago, she hadn’t felt any of this.

  It was goddamn inconvenient, and it couldn’t continue, but she pushed those thoughts aside. For now.

 
She handed him the bottle of wine.

  “You didn’t need to,” he said as he put it down on the table.

  And then he was kissing her, his fingers furiously unbuttoning her shirt. His mouth devoured hers as though he was parched with thirst.

  Good. She didn’t want to wait, either. She hadn’t seen him in five days, and that felt like forever. She wanted to lose herself in his body, forget about her earlier trip down memory lane.

  She pulled off his polo shirt and ran her hands over his large biceps. He worked out several times a week, she knew. When she raked her fingernails across his chest, he sucked in a breath. And when she unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, it seemed to render him speechless.

  She’d always hated it when women in their mid-thirties said they were old, but she’d started to feel that way in the past year, started to feel like she wasn’t as attractive as she’d once been. Yet with Connor, she felt like a wine that got better with age.

  “I wore matching underwear,” she said. “Just for you.”

  His gaze raked over her body and came to settle on her face.

  “Just for you,” she repeated, staring into his eyes.

  She laughed as he hoisted her into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

  He set her down on the bed and lay on top of her, and oh, she loved the pressure of his body against hers, his skin against hers. But she was still wearing her bra, and her nipples strained toward him, begging for his touch.

  He unfastened her bra and threw it on the ground; he knew exactly what she needed. He brushed his thumb over her peaked nipple before lowering his head and taking it in her mouth.

  She couldn’t help but moan.

  She unzipped his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers. He stood up briefly to take them off, and then he was on top of her again, his erection pressing between her legs, so close to where she needed him but not quite there.

  “Connor,” she groaned.

  His hand slid inside her panties—the last scrap of fabric between them—and somehow, before he touched her core, she had the presence of mind to register a noise from downstairs.