Attach ments(73)

And my mom said, “She’s right, Beth, all eyes will be on the bride.”

Which just infuriated me. Why did that infuriate me? It’s true. But all I could think was, if no one is going to be looking at me, then why can’t I wear my fucking sweater? We were at Victoria’s Secret.

Did I mention that we were at Victoria’s Secret? My sister wasn’t happy with her strapless bra, so we all had to go to Victoria’s Secret. I’m not happy with my strapless bra either. Because I’m not happy with my strapless dress.

While Kiley was trying on bras, my mom patted me on the arm and said, “Honey, this is Kiley’s day. Just roll with it.” Have I also mentioned that neither of these women have large arms? I got them from my father’s mother, my own Italian grandmother, a woman who is now dead, but who, while alive, had the sense to never wear a strapless dress.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> I can wait until next week to go nursery shopping.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Would you do that for me?

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Of course I would. I’ll even let you wear your ugly green sweater.

Is Chris going to the wedding with you?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> And to the rehearsal dinner. And to Sunday brunch. He told me that he didn’t think I should do anything wedding-related by myself. He said, “Every time you talk about it, you go all blurry around the edges.” Which of course made me cry. He’s pretty good when I cry. He doesn’t get flustered.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Well done, Chris.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> I know. Five stars. He’s even letting me buy him a new jacket and real pants.

Slacks. But I’m not allowed to call them slacks. That word gives him the heebie-jeebies. Normally, I’m not allowed to buy him clothes of any sort.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> I’m relieved to hear you’re not the one who picks out all those tight jeans he wears. What will he do with his hair? Put it in a ponytail?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> There’s nothing you can do with that hair. You just have to let go and let God.

Hey, you know what? All this talk about my cute boyfriend is diminishing my cute cravings.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> As well it should.





BETH MISSED HIM.

Lincoln thought he’d hit bottom on New Year’s, and it had been a relief. Wasn’t hitting bottom the thing you had to do to knock some sense into yourself? Wasn’t hitting bottom the thing that showed you which way was up?





From: Jennifer Scribner-Snyder

To: Beth Fremont

Sent: Fri, 01/07/2000 2:44 PM

Subject: Are you here?

Distract me.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Distract you? Gladly. Productivity-schmoductivity.

What are you supposed to be working on?

<<Jennifer to Beth>> I don’t know. Writing headlines, I guess. Reading the same stories over and over to make sure some idiot reporter didn’t use “they’re” when he should have used “their.”

Changing “which”es to “that”s. Arguing with someone about sequence of tenses.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> What on earth is sequence of tenses?

<<Jennifer to Beth>> It’s top-secret copy editor stuff.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> I didn’t know there was such a thing.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Are you kidding? Everything about being a copy editor is top secret—by default, really—because no one else cares.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Can I ask why you need distracting? Are they making you edit the sports section again?

<<Jennifer to Beth>> No, it’s not work.

I’ve been having these strange cramps for the last few days. Not even cramps—they’re more like assertive twinges. I called our midwife and described them to her, and she seemed pretty confident that nothing is wrong. She said that it’s natural to feel your uterus readjusting at the end of the first trimester. “This is your first pregnancy,” she said. “It’s going to feel strange.” She also told me that I might feel better if I talked to the baby.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> What are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to talk out loud? Or are you supposed to reach out for it on the astral plane?

<<Jennifer to Beth>> I’m supposed to talk out loud. “Relax,” she said. “Put on some quiet music.

Light a few candles. Tune in to the life within you.” I’m supposed to tell the baby that it’s welcome and wanted and that it doesn’t have to worry about anything right now except getting big and strong.

I’ve tried it a few times, when I’m alone in the car. But I never get past small talk. I feel sort of like I’m invading the baby’s space or like it’s going to wonder, after two months of respectful silence, why I’ve suddenly decided we need to get all personal with each other.