“You’ve got panda eyes,” she said when we reached the arrivals lounge. She was grinning that gap-tooth grin of hers that felt like home. Wild red curls fell over her thin shoulders and her yellow and green harem pants and tunic get-up made her look like she’d just stepped out of an Ashram. “Why are you crying?” she asked, belatedly.
“Weddings.” I shrugged, hoping to throw her off the scent as I ratted through my bag for a tissue.
“Come with me.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the ladies’ toilets. Then she left me at the mirror to stare at the wreck of my face while she went into a cubicle and came back with a handful of toilet paper. “Here.” She handed it over and went back to pee.
I wet the wad at the basin and cleaned myself up as well as I could.
“Should have worn waterproof mascara,” Fritha said through the opened door. Thankfully, no one else was in the ladies’. “I’ll loan you mine so you don’t look tragic tonight, because we’re all going to cry. That’s a given.”
“Thanks.” Personally, I wondered how many more tears I had in me. I felt hollow and my throat was scratchy, but with my emotions so close to the surface, anything was possible.
The toilet flushed and Fritha came out to wash her hands. “So why were you crying?” she asked again. “And don’t tell me any bullshit about Danny. You’re over him or you wouldn’t be fucking Jack.”
She turned away to use the noisy air dryer on her hands and I stopped dabbing my cheeks to stare at her back.
Was I over Danny?
I searched my feelings and realized I hadn’t given him a thought for days. My every waking moment had been consumed by Jack, and singing had just been a way to express the angst I felt about our relationship—or lack of.
“I am over Danny,” I said and she turned back to me smiling.
“Are you still fucking Jack?”
“I did yesterday.” Conversations with Fritha were so uncomplicated.
She led the way out of the ladies’ and said over her shoulder, “Did he make you come three times again?”
An elderly couple standing just outside the door both turned to look at us, and I caught up with Fritha who was marching ahead. “Can we not discuss my sex life in public?” I said softly.
She shrugged. “Sure.” and led the way to the baggage claim. But when we arrived there, she put an arm around my waist and said, “I’m so glad we’ll be sleeping together tonight. It will be just like old times.”
I patted her shoulder with my good hand and tried to smile while we waited for the carousel to be loaded with luggage. What she’d meant was I’m glad we’ll be sharing a room at the resort. Not sharing a bed. But Mister Armpits and the young couple behind him didn’t know that, so the three of them looked up and smirked.
“How’s Jill?” I tactfully disengaged myself on the pretense of getting mints out of my bag and offered her one but she shook her head.
“Twitchy.” Fritha said and frowned. “I thought she’d be more chill. I mean, she loves Finn.”
“Just nerves, I guess.”
Clearly, Jill hadn’t told Fritha about Finn’s secret sperm donation, or we’d be discussing that. And Lizzie didn’t want the child to know who its biological father was, so it made sense not to spread the story. Instead, I asked Fritha about Bohemian Brew and that sparked her excitement about the new line of spiritual books she was selling, along with crystal teapot stands and Himalayan Alpaca tea cozies.
By the time we’d retrieved my case and tracked down Fritha’s bright orange Combie Van in the airport carpark, we’d moved on to discussing Louella and her impending divorce. I was careful not to mention Nick, in case Fritha didn’t know about him.
Louella was a private person, so I didn’t want her thinking I was blabbing her news. But thankfully, as we drove to the resort in Byron Bay where we’d be staying, Fritha was happy to hear about kitchen makeovers and landscaping plans and a catalogue of the latest shoes I’d seen Louella wearing.
Finally, we pulled into a neatly paved driveway that led down into what looked like an acreage estate. I hadn’t expected that. I’d imagined we’d be at a posh coastal resort. But this lovely rural homestead overlooked the rolling hills surrounding Byron Bay, and as we drove down the rambling road Fritha pointed out the Big House where the wedding would be—a Balinese style building with lots of bamboo and water features out the front—as well as several smaller villas in a similar style dotted about.
Most of the guests had taken up residence—some several days ago—so I was feeling like I was running late when we arrived at our villa. But Frith assured me we had hours to prepare. Still, it felt like barely an hour later that we were meeting the other bridesmaids in a private reception room at the back of the Big House, an hour before the ceremony would begin.
Fritha was fussing with my hair, telling me for the fifth time that the hairdresser had put too much spray in it for a ‘down do’, but as we stepped into the room where Louella and Brittany—Jill’s horrible little sister—waited, it felt like walking into a wall of tension. Then Fritha almost bumped into me because I’d stalled.
It took several seconds for me to get my mouth organized to speak. “Louella,” I said carefully. I hadn’t seen any of the other bridesmaid gowns, and Fritha’s rainbow chiffon fairy outfit was to be expected. But Louella wore something I could never have imagined on her: a silver gown with slinky skirt that featured a thigh-high split. I hadn’t seen Louella’s thighs since we were teenagers at the public swimming pool, so that was startling even before I took in the top which was a tight, see-through gauze with spider-webs of silver showcasing a very nice set of breasts in a low cut bra. The top of the gown was long-sleeved, and one sleeve was solid silver to match the skirt.
Her shoes, like mine and Fritha’s, were a compromise between Brittany’s demand for rhinestone platforms, and something that didn’t look like it belonged on a dance floor—a satin peep-toe in a color that matched our gown with a high jeweled heel.
That, combined with the dress, made Louella’s appearance shockingly sexy, and though her blonde swirling bob and makeup still had the sixties feel that was her trademark, the rest was…wow.
“You look gorgeous,” I added firmly, in case she was nervous about her appearance. Although, Louella being Louella, she always looked effortlessly confident. I enveloped her in a careful hug that wouldn’t damage either of our hair or makeup. Then when I’d pulled back, she nodded her approval of my royal blue silk halter-neck gown.
“Stylish,” she said, and I thanked Martine for that, at least. The color and cut did suit me.
Fritha was still standing speechless behind me, so I moved on to the awkward part of the afternoon.
“Brittany…” I said, and forced a smile.
I hadn’t seen her in three years and Jill hadn’t mentioned her, so I’d figured the Bratgirl of our childhood who’d stolen our makeup and clothes shamelessly, hadn’t been bothering her. Why had she turned up now to spoil Jill’s special moment?
“You look lovely,” I added, which was an outright lie, but I wasn’t sure what to say about her scarlet dress with a neckline that speared down past her navel piercing. An inappropriate amount of fake breasts sat exposed, like oranges under her skin. She had shadows upon shadows around her eyes and contoured cheeks that were frighteningly sharp.
It was the Kardashian school of makeup gone wrong, and her trademark pout was very much in evidence. I could see that she didn’t believe in my compliment for a second, so I tacked on, “And how kind of you to come to Jill’s wedding.”
She looked me up and down with an ugly sneer, then glanced at Fritha dismissively before saying, “Don’t bother. I won’t be spending any time with you old hags. I’m just here to scope out the rich guy my sister is marrying.”
Louella glanced at me with a don’t rise to the bait look on her very calm face, then she smiled at Brittany. “And I’m sure he’ll be impressed by your youth and natural beauty. Why, he might even
leave Jill on the altar and run away with you.”
Fritha snickered behind me, but Louella gazed calmly at Brittany as though expecting a pleasant response.
I expected an explosion.
Instead, Brittany said, “I am younger, and I’ve got bigger tits.” Her insecurity would have been endearing if she hadn’t been such a stone-cold bitch.
“Not to mention a chipmunk nose,” Fritha offered from behind me.
I couldn’t stop myself. A hysterical giggle burst out, and though I hurriedly clamped down on it, Brittany’s laser blue eyes narrowed dangerously and turned on me.
“Your husband left you to get better sex. You’ve got nothing to laugh about.”
But surprisingly, I did laugh. Before Jack, that would have gutted me. Now…it felt like Danny was so unimportant. I shook my head. “That’s so last week.”
Brat girl’s head went back, as if she was a snake, rearing up to strike, but in that moment, the door burst open behind me and Jill said, “Ange. I need you.”
Something was terribly wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jogging down hospital corridors in a blue bridesmaid dress with jeweled high heels in one hand should have been embarrassing, but I had the bride in her stunning ivory lace gown power-walking ahead of me. If anyone was going to look crazy, it was Jill.
Her whole back was exposed to the waist, with two very thin straps at the shoulders holding the bodice at the front in place. Her gown was a stunning mix of vintage lace and contemporary silhouette, but none of her guests were going to see that because we’d taken off before the ceremony could begin.
Much to Louella’s disapproval.
“Where are they?” She stopped at the junction of two corridors and I halted beside her, catching my breath as she looked around, her eyes wide with worry.
“There!” She pointed, and set off again, running this time.
Delivery suite.
I caught her by the time we reached the big green double doors, and managed to get in front of her, holding out my arms. “Wait. Settle!”
She shook her head. “I have to get in there.” Looking over my shoulder as if she would push past me.
“Not like this,” I demanded, and she met my gaze, her own wild and unfocussed. “I’m here to stop you embarrassing yourself. This. Now.” I pointed at her with my shoes. “This will embarrass you. Calm down.”
She nodded and sucked in a breath. “Calm,” she said, although I could see she had no clue how to achieve that.
“Focus on Lizzie.” I dropped my shoes so I could grab Jill’s shoulder with my good hand and hold her attention when she would have looked away. “She’s experiencing pain. She needs your support. You and Finn are a team, here to help her deliver her baby—Finn’s niece or nephew. Your Godchild. Have you got that?”
She swallowed so loudly I could hear it in the quiet corridor. “Her baby.”
“Correct.”
Jill looked gutted, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and say Poor Baby but that wasn’t what she needed right now. Louella would be far more competent at tough love, but Jill had chosen me, and I wasn’t about to let her down.
“If Lizzie’s mother was here,” I said carefully, “She’d be in the room. But she’s not. That’s why Finn went in the ambulance. To keep Lizzie calm until her wife gets here.”
Jill nodded in acknowledgement, but her gaze was vacant as she stared at the doors to the Delivery suites.
Unfortunately for all of us, Lizzie’s foster mother was in London, preparing to donate a kidney to save her brother’s life.
“Circumstances have conspired,” I went on, “But none of it is bad. Finn is only with Lizzie so she won’t be alone. They grew up as cousins. It’s only natural that he’d be with her until her wife arrives.”
Jill nodded, and I could see some sanity bleeding back in. “They’ve always been close.”
“Like you and Brittany. Only Lizzie, unlike Brittany, is a human being.”
Jill frowned and finally met my gaze. “Sorry about Brat. She’s a bitch.”
“Actually, she’s an overgrown pipsqueak. Louella put her in her place.”
Jill’s smile was slow to come, but when it arrived, it was genuine. “Good job.”
“Don’t worry about them,” I said. “Concentrate on what’s inside the room you’ll be entering: Lizzie in pain, wondering where her wife is, and Finn, worried that you’ll be jealous.”
“I am jealous.” Jill frowned and I could see from her expression that her angst was tumbling back. “I want that to be me.”
Join the club!
“And it will be. One day,” I said patiently. “But right now it’s Lizzie’s turn. Don’t spoil that for her.”
Jill shook her head and glanced past me to the door. “How can I pretend to be happy for her when I’m terrified?”
I wanted to slap her, to jolt her out of the negativity she was spiraling into, but I wasn’t Fritha. So I said, “Alright, don’t pretend. Just reserve judgement.”
“What?” She refocused on me.
“Go into the room and see what’s happening. Don’t project anything onto it. Just look at what’s there.” I squeezed her shoulder. “It might not be what you think.”
She stared into my eyes for the longest time, and I had no idea what she was thinking, but at last she said, “You’ll be here for me?”
“As close as they’ll let me.” I was sure there’d be a waiting room nearby.
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll just go in there.”
“Good girl.” I didn’t bother to pick up my shoes. I held Jill’s hand and walked her in. We found a nurse who took me to a waiting room where I hugged Jill and promised again that I’d stay. Then she went with the nurse.
The next part was hard. I ached for the angst Jill was going through, and was cranky that Sieu wasn’t here to be with her wife. Where the hell was she? She was Finn’s operations manager. She should have been at his wedding ceremony, by Lizzie’s side, especially while she was due any day.
It was hard to wait, but the nurses were lovely. One brought my shoes, which I put back on. Then I tried to drink a coffee from the vending machine but that just made me queasy, and as I’d had no food all day, that made perfect sense. A red-haired nurse showed me the toilets, and after I’d vomited, I felt marginally better.
When I was back in the beige waiting room she came to sit with me, bringing a milky tea. “So how far along are you?” she asked, and in the next few seconds the world slowed down around me.
I stared at her, trying to put that sentence into some context, and then…
Oh!
I could have blushed and said Oh no, I’m not pregnant but my stomach started swirling like a whirlpool draining out and my voice emerged in a horrified whisper.
“Do I look pregnant?”
She blinked several times, clearly realizing her mistake, but before she could retract it, I grabbed her arm, stunned by what I hadn’t put together until this point.
“My period is late.”
I wanted to be thrilled. I’d waited so long to be pregnant, but I wasn’t married. I wasn’t even in a relationship. If I was pregnant, the baby was Jack’s and…
My cheeks burned with humiliation, remembering the cold way he’d left me. My dreams had never included being a single mother.
She was frowning when she said, “What if you…” Then she looked over her shoulder but no one was coming, “…do a pregnancy test now, while you’re waiting for your friend.”
“Yes.” I absolutely had to know. Straight away. “How?”
“Well…without involving a doctor, you could nip down to the pharmacy on the ground floor and grab a test kit. Come back up here to the toilets. Quick pee…”
I nodded. “My friend—”
“I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
I swallowed down the hysteria that wanted to bubble up. Was it possible? “What’s your name?”
“Collie. I’m an Irish Colleen.” She had no accent, so she was clearly mocking herself, but with a peaches-and-cream complexion she looked the part, and was roughly my age. I wanted to ask if she had children, and what it felt like to be pregnant, but I had to know about me first.
“I’m Angela. Will you be here when I get back?”
“I’m here for hours, Angela,” she said, using my name the way the paramedic had when I’d broken my wrist. “Come to the nurse’s station when you’ve done the test and we’ll talk. Okay?”
I nodded. Then I got up on shaky legs and started walking.
Two pink lines.
I’m pregnant.
I stood in the toilet cubicle, staring at the testing device in my hand, shaking my head. Not because I didn’t believe it. My queasiness, heightened emotions, and the sensitivity of my breasts—which I’d put down to thinking sexy thoughts about Jack!—all made sense. I’d read about these symptoms a hundred times when I’d be hoping to experience them. How had I not recognized them?
I shook my head again, trying to wake myself out of the cotton wool settling on my brain. Jill might have come out by now. I wanted to be there for her. I had to think past this to the rest of the world, so I forced myself to cap the testing stick and slide it into my handbag. The instructions had said that would preserve the result, although who I would show it to…
“Angela,” Collie said as I approached her desk. “Your friend hasn’t come out.” There were two nurses standing behind her, so she just raised her eyebrows. I simply nodded.
She got up and hurried around to lead me back to the waiting room. “It’s a slow night. We’ve got plenty of time,” she said, and surprised me by sitting at my side and taking my hand. “Are you married?”
I shook my head, wondering why I wasn’t speaking. Did I not trust my voice?
“I can see it’s a shock.”
I swallowed, and forced myself to say, “I’ve always wanted a baby.” My voice was low and didn’t sound like me at all. “With my husband,” I added. “But we split up six months ago.”
Husband Stay (Husband #2) Page 24