Thirty-Four Going On Bride (The Spinster Series Book 3)

by Becky Monson

  Eloping is sounding better and better. Too bad it’s not going to happen.

  CHA

  PTER 14

  I think I’m dying.

  I’m being totally serious here. My heart palpitations have been getting worse this past week, so I did the only thing I could do: I went into my office in the back of the bakery and Googled my symptoms. I mean, I guess I could’ve gone to the doctor, but who has time for that? Besides, up until just now I figured it was no big deal.

  But there it is—clear on my laptop screen—all my symptoms point to the fact that I probably have heart disease. Heart palpitations, fatigue, shortness of breath … I’ve got it all. Aren’t I too young for heart disease? Oh gosh, I’m probably one of those exceptions to the rule. I’ll be one of those rare cases you hear about who get heart disease in their thirties and die within months of their diagnosis.

  Of course the fatigue can be explained. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in who knows how long. And the shortness of breath could be explained by the fact that I am completely out of shape. But the heart palpitations can’t be explained. And what about the eye twitches? Of course, those only seem to happen when Lisa is around. Plus, eye twitching wasn’t part of the listed symptoms. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t one.

  Dear heavens, I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go yet. I have so much I need to do. Like marry Jared. And ride in a hot air balloon. And climb Mt. Everest. Yeah, I’m totally kidding about that. I have no desire to climb Everest. I don’t even like to climb stairs.

  Not that I’m trying to be morbid here, but I wonder how many people would come to my funeral if I did die. Surely I’d be able to fill the church. I’m certain the regulars from the bakery would be there, and people from Spectraltech. My family, of course. I’m sure Anna would put herself in charge and keep changing my lipstick until she found the right color to match my pale corpse.

  And what about Jared? Poor Jared. He’d be so devastated. Of course, Lisa would be right there to pounce on him as soon as the first shovel of dirt landed on my coffin. No, I can’t let this happen. I can’t die. I guess I’ll have to go to the doctor. I’m not going down without a fight.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Kate says as she stands in the doorway of my office.

  “Right. Come on in,” I say.

  Ah yes, the reason the palpitations started up in the first place. Chat time with Kate. Also, I’ve had a ridiculous amount of caffeine, so I’m sure that’s not helping my heart either. But honestly, I think it mostly has to do with the confrontation I’m about to have. I’ve put this off long enough.

  My phone pings. It’s a text from Anna. Ah, and there’s reason number two for my palpitations. I ignore the text.

  “Have a seat,” I say pointing to the chair near the door. My palms feel sweaty. Oh heavens, sweating for no reason was one of the symptoms of heart disease.

  “What did you need to talk to me about?” Kate asks, obviously wanting to get right to the point. She looks kind of nervous actually. Does she think I’m going to fire her? She probably does. I need to get to the point here so she doesn’t freak out. I mean, before I do, that is.

  “First of all,” I begin, “you’re doing a great job.”

  I’m going with the sandwich method for confrontation or criticism that Brown taught me. You start with the top piece of bread—a compliment of sorts. Then you get to the sauerkraut and the corned beef part, where you tell them all the negative stuff. Then before you’re done, you put on the bottom slice of bread where you compliment them again. Brown says it works like a charm. I have my doubts.

  “Thank you,” Kate says, her hands twiddling in her lap.

  Oh good, the top piece of bread is in place. Now on to the corned beef and sauerkraut. Gosh, I hate this.

  “You really take initiative, and I appreciate that,” I say. I guess I’m still going with the top piece of bread? I have no idea what I’m doing here. I should’ve written down notes.

  More heart palpitations. And now there’s a little buzz in my ear. Where did that come from? I wonder if that’s a symptom.

  Focus, Julia.

  “Anyway, the thing is,” I say and reach up to dash off the beads of sweat that are now forming on the top of my forehead. Oh gosh, I know sweating was one of the symptoms. I truly might have heart disease!

  “Are you okay?” Kate asks, her brows pulled together as she takes in the sight of me.

  “Yes,” I say, just as my breathing starts to pick up. “I’m fine.”

  I feel lightheaded. I might be having a heart attack right here and now. This all came on so quickly. This could be it.

  “Julia, you don’t look so good,” Kate says, the concern on her face growing as she watches me possibly about to have a heart attack.

  I take in a quick breath, but I feel like I’m not getting any air into my lungs. I try to take another breath, but my chest feels tight like I can’t get anything in. Suddenly, I’m only taking quick little breaths because I can’t seem to take a big breath.

  This is it. This is the end!

  “Patti!” Kate yells out the door of the office in a panic.

  I hear Patti come running over. “What in tarnation—” she says as she looks at me and then back at Kate. “She’s hyperventilating,” she declares.

  “Hyperventilating?” Kate questions.

  “Quick like. Go grab a small paper bag from the front,” she says to Kate.

  I’m watching all this happen around me, and I want to tell them that that I’m not hyperventilating, I’m having a heart attack! They need to call an ambulance. But I can’t get a word out since I can barely get a breath in.

  Kate comes back into the office with a small white paper bag and Debbie trailing behind.

  “What’s going on?” Debbie asks Patti.

  “Julia’s hyperventilating,” she says. Opening the paper bag, she gathers the top of it together.

  “Oh goodness,” Debbie says, her hands going to her mouth.

  It’s clear here that in a time of crisis, Patti is my only reliable source. Debbie and Kate are evidently not going to save me if this is truly the end. They’re both just staring at me as Patti does all the work.

  “Julia, darlin’ I need you to breathe into this paper bag.” She shows me how to do it a couple of times and then hands me the paper bag.

  I start breathing into the bag. In, out. In, out. It only takes about five breaths before I can start to feel a difference. My breathing slows, not to a normal pace, but at least it’s not the rapid pace it was.

  “What’s going on with ya, darlin’?” Patti asks with concern. She reaches up and swipes some of my hair off my forehead and tucks it behind my ear.

  “I … think… heart … attack,” I try to say through the paper bag.

  “You’re not having a heart attack, sweetie,” Debbie says.

  “No?” I ask, looking to her and then to Patti who’s nodding her head in agreement.

  “No, darlin’, that ain’t a heart attack. You just aren’t breathing right.” She’s bent at the waist, looking at me in the eyes. “What’s going on with you?”

  What’s going on with me? I think the better question would be what’s not going on with me. Let’s see, I’m getting married in a huge wedding when I’d rather elope. My sister is constantly up my butt with wedding requests and questions. My business is taking off so much that I’m feeling too much pressure from my employees to manage them better, and my fiancé is pressuring me to expand. Oh, and I’m also pretty sure my fiancé’s ex is out to get me. Also, I haven’t gotten any sleep in longer than I can remember and my health is clearly not good. To top it off, I’m probably dying.

  Suddenly my eyes fill with tears.

  “Oh, darlin’,” Patti says, her arms wrapping around me. “You need a break. You’ve got too much going on.”

  From her mouth to God’s ears. But unfortunately I have no time for a break.

  “Why don’t you go home and let us
close up things around here,” Debbie says.

  That notion makes the tears grow and spill out.

  “Yah, darlin’, we’ve got this,” Patti says. “You get yourself on home and get some rest. Do you want me to call Jared?”

  “No,” I say. “I can manage to get myself home.”

  “Nonsense,” says Patti. “One of us will drive ya. We have a bit of time before the lunch rush.”

  Debbie was tasked with taking home her invalid boss. Now that my breathing is nearly back to normal and I’m ninety-nine percent sure I didn’t have a heart attack, I’m starting to feel rather stupid about the whole thing. Hyperventilating? What was that all about? But still, a little time to rest is so welcome. Maybe I don’t need a doctor, maybe I need a therapist.

  I change into comfortable clothes and hop right into bed, dragging Charlie with me and forcing her to snuggle. I’m asleep within seconds.

  CH

  APTER 15

  “Why haven’t you seen a doctor yet?” Anna asks as we stand outside of Brown’s bathroom. It’s pee on a stick day—the day we find out if she’s knocked up.

  “Because I don’t need a doctor to tell me that I need to get some rest and stop stressing,” I say.

  “It sounds like more than that to me,” Anna says, and I find myself touched (and slightly mystified) by her concern.

  “It’s not,” I say, not totally convinced myself. I mean, it was only a few days ago that Google had basically told me I was going into heart failure. But the truth of the matter is I’m stressed, tired, never have time for exercise, and I haven’t been eating well. One good side effect of all of it is that I’ve lost five pounds. Not intentionally, but who cares, right?

  “Any news in there?” I ask Brown through the bathroom door.

  This is nerve wracking. Brown could be pregnant! And I’m really hoping she is because Anna and I got a little ahead of ourselves and brought over celebratory supplies. It’s going to be very awkward if there is nothing to celebrate. And also very sad.

  Brown opens the door to the bathroom.

  “Well?” I ask, looking at her hands for the pregnancy test.

  “I can’t look,” she says. “Will one of you go look and see if there are two pink lines?”

  Both Anna and I get stuck in the doorway trying to make it to see the test first. When we finally push through, we find the stick sitting on the edge of the bathtub. We walk up to it slowly, almost reverently, and look down.

  And there it is: two very distinct pink lines.

  We both scream and start jumping around the bathroom.

  “Am I … pregnant?” Brown asks from the doorway, obviously not able to comprehend it. I mean screaming and jumping around like crazy people wouldn’t be considered good form if the test were negative.

  “Yes!” Anna and I scream in unison.

  Then Brown is the in the bathroom, and all three of us are jumping around and screaming. It’s not the biggest bathroom, and I end up hitting my hip twice in the same spot on the counter. But I don’t care. Brown is pregnant!

  Brown Facetimes Matt who’s out of town on business and shows him the positive test. They both cry, which makes Anna and me join in on the crying. Then we get out our party supplies. Champagne for Anna and me, and sparkling apple cider for the pregnant lady.

  “Can you believe it?” I ask as soon as the drinks have been poured. “You’re going to be a mom!”

  “I can’t believe it,” Brown says, her face frozen in a smile.

  “I hope it’s a girl,” Anna says.

  “Anna!” I chastise her. “Who cares what sex the baby is as long as it’s healthy.”

  “I just mean that girls are much more fun to shop for,” she says. She has a point.

  “So,” Brown says after she takes a big gulp of her drink. “Which one of you two is going to join me?”

  “Not me,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m not even married yet.”

  “Oh come on, Jules,” Brown says. “You’re so old fashioned. Don’t you know getting pregnant before you get married is so 21st century?”

  “Yes, well even so, I think I’ll wait,” I say, feeling a touch of sadness that it could be a while before I am. How fun would it be to be pregnant with Brown and raise our kids together? But I think I’d like to just be married for a little while at least.

  “Well, I guess since I’m married, it should be me,” Anna says. “Now I just have to get Jonathon on board.”

  “Tell him I’m pregnant,” Brown says. “Peer pressure still works.”

  “You know, you’re probably right,” Anna says cheerfully. “I’m totally going to convince him. How fun would it be to have babies that can grow up together?”

  Oh gosh, what if Anna got pregnant soon and both her and Brown have babies within the same year? I’d be the odd woman out. Just imagine how many times they’d say “you’ll see” once they were moms and I wasn’t. My stomach sinks in the most petty of ways. I don’t want Anna to get pregnant yet. Not before me. It’s a terrible thing to think, and I hate myself for thinking it. But I can’t help it.

  That night, probably from the glass of champagne I had (I don’t hold my liquor well), I dream that everyone is pregnant. Brown, Anna, my mom, Bobby … even Debbie and Patti. And I’m not. Everyone is full of advice, and they keep telling me my time will come soon, but when I look down at my stomach, there’s a sign hanging from it that says “barren.” Of course I wake up in a frenzy and then spend an hour reading into the dream and wonder if it’s some sort of heavenly warning that I actually am barren.

  I mean, there are no guarantees. What if after we’re married, Jared and I find out we can’t have kids? And then everyone around us starts their family, but we don’t. What if? I could be happy, just Jared and me. I know that. But the thought of not being able to have children makes me feel a loss for something that’s not even mine yet. It’s a strange feeling.

  When I finally do fall asleep again, I have my reoccurring naked dream. This time, as I’m walking completely in the nude toward Jared, everyone is pointing and laughing at me. That’s a new addition to the dream. I also decide to actually look for my dress in this dream, but of course I never find it. Then I abandon all that and look for a toilet and no matter how many times I go, I still have to go. Of course I wake up from that and realize that I actually have to go in real life. Stupid champagne.

  ~*~

  The next day at the bakery I’m exhausted, which is to be expected because of my poor night’s sleep. I’m feeling fidgety and drained at the same time. It’s an odd combination. It could be because of the five-hour energy I downed on the way in. It’s really how I’m surviving these days.

  I haven’t had any more episodes of hyperventilation since that time in my office. I’m still getting the palpitations, though. I probably should listen to Anna and see a doctor. Like I have time for that. I feel like I don’t even have time to make the call to set up an appointment.

  Anyway, I can figure it out. I’m sure it’s just lack of sleep combined with stress and an unhealthy lifestyle, which is due to the fact that I don’t have any time and therefore never get enough sleep. It’s a very vicious cycle.

  I should try to lessen the amount of caffeine I drink, but that too has become a vicious cycle. I tried the other morning and only lasted all of three hours. I was not going to make it through the morning rush without some coffee. And of course I’m avoiding having the chat I need to have with Kate. I keep telling myself it’s for my health, but let’s be honest, I just don’t want to do it.

  Debbie and Patti aren’t down my throat to say anything to her anyway. I think they’re worried what might happen if I do. I know I still need to. It’s so strange, I’ve had to confront people before, but it’s like something has changed inside of me. Like all the stress and lack of sleep over the past months have caused some sort of change in my brain chemistry. I don’t feel like I can handle things as well anymore, and let’s be honest, I could never handle thing
s very well to begin with. Not difficult things, at least.

  “Hey Lia,” I say timidly. I don’t know what the heck I’m doing. I decided that I was not going to talk to Lia about my reoccurring dream, but clearly I’m not listening to myself.

  She’s sitting at a two-person table by the front window. She’s been reading cards all morning. In fact, this is the first time I’ve found her without a line of people waiting. She’s getting quite the name for herself in the area.

  “Hello Julia,” she says in her sickly sweet voice. “You’re curious about something aren’t you?” She asks, looking at me directly.

  My eyes widen with shock. How did she know that? Man, I thought this witch thing was all hokey. But maybe there’s something to it.

  “Um, yes,” I say guardedly. “How did you know?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t take any powers to see your face is pale and you keep wringing your hands together,” she says as her eyes move down to my hands which are, in fact, wringing. I shake them out forcefully and do my best to keep them at my sides. Good gravy, I’m so transparent.

  I clear my throat. “I was wondering if you interpret dreams?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she says. “Take a seat.” She motions to the seat across from her.

  Oh gosh, this already feels like a bad idea. Last time I sat down in front of Lia, it almost ruined my relationship with Jared. Between her cards and my crazy mind, I nearly destroyed everything. I never thought I put stock into any of this, but I guess I must, since it’s got my stomach all in knots.

  “Julia, I don’t bite,” she says to me and smiles almost wickedly. Or maybe it’s a nice smile, and I’m just reading it that way. She probably does bite.

  “Sorry,” I say, tucking a strand of hair that’s come out of my messy bun behind my ear. I take the seat across from her.

  Lia’s red hair is pulled away from her face by a knotted head wrap—white with little cherries on it. As usual, it doesn’t go with, or even accent, the long flowing flower skirt she’s wearing and the striped top. Eclectic, to say the least.