Once Upon A Half-Time 2(64)

Then, if there wasn’t a Nate shaped hole smacked through my wall and a father-to-be sprinting to the west coast, I’d reveal the real truth—why I was so afraid.

I could handle the pregnancy myself.

But I couldn’t lose him.

My phone vibrated. I groaned, tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall. But I recognized the caterer’s number. I had to take the call.

“Hey Mandy, it’s Jeff.” The caterer talked quick. “Got some good news. We can do your order for Saturday.”

Thank God. And it only took a budget twice what we anticipated.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” I said. “And you can bring extra tables and chairs?”

“Absolutely. We’ll take care of the set up too if you get us into the venue ahead of time.”

“Is it wrong to say I love you?”

“My wife probably wouldn’t like it—”

“Well, she’s a damned lucky lady.” I rubbed my eyes. “Okay, so that’s dinner for two fifty, the tables, the chairs, the cutlery, the paper products.”

“That’s right. Two hundred and fifty vegetarian dinners—a wild mushroom polenta with a porcini sauce or grilled vegetables with green goddess dressing and a Greek salad.”

I sucked in a breath. Oh, just when I thought I was getting ahead, life had to kick me into the dirt.

“Vegetarian dinners?” I hated to ask the question. “Do you have…non-vegetarian options?”

“Well…no. The bride requested vegetarian selections.”

“For herself,” I said. “Lindsey’s the vegetarian. Everyone else is a straight-up carnivore.”

“Oh.”

“Oh no.”

“Well, we can’t change our options now. Unfortunately, there’s too little time to buy and prep the ingredients for a new menu…” He cleared his throat. “If you cancel…we’d have to keep the deposit.”

Damn. What was worse? No food at the wedding…or no meat? Without meat, my family would assume there was no food. But we had to serve something.

“No,” I said. “We’ll take it. Same plan. We’ll think of something.”

I sorted out the details and hung up. That added a fifteenth item to my to-do list, and probably meant I had no time to sleep tonight. I rolled off the couch, got sick, and rushed to the bathroom.

I didn’t make it to the toilet, but the bathtub worked. I hardly had the energy to sit up, but I did have the motivation to cry. The first blubbering tears stole my breath. Frustration smacked me over the head.

This wasn’t fair.

I had no idea how to do this on my own anymore—and it wasn’t just the wedding scaring the bejesus out of me. I hauled myself to my feet and brushed my teeth. It helped, but only a little.

The stress was too much.

Even if I didn’t tell him about the baby, Nate had said he wanted to help. He promised he’d be there for me.

He said he wanted me.

So maybe he’d help me now?

Why was I so terrified to dial his number? My lip trembled before he answered. I sniffled as the call connected, and as soon as I heard his voice, I whimpered.

Nate laughed.

“That’s a great Lindsey impression,” he said. “Sounds real.”

I had a bad habit when I cried—I forgot to breathe, some sort of subconscious attempt to not actually make a sound. It never worked. Inevitably I’d huffed some choked gasp that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sick, orgasmic ostrich.

It wasn’t sexy, and it wasn’t quiet.

Nate stopped laughing. “Oh, damn. You’re really upset. What’s wrong? Bryce didn’t get cold feet again did he?”

Warning bells clanged in my head. “What?”

“Shit. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Great. I reminded myself to add note sixteen to the to-do list—chase down the groom. He used to be a linebacker. That wouldn’t be easy.

I choked up again.

“Mandy, what’s wrong?”

Everything.

Where to start? I couldn’t breathe, and the damn tears frustrated me more. I put the phone down to grunt out the breath lost in my chest. It did nothing. I coughed it out, more humiliated that I called Nate and could only cry.

The words came, but not in the right order.

“It’s all mushrooms!”

Tears rolled over my cheeks. Something told me the baby wouldn’t like mushrooms. The wedding would be ruined, my family destroyed, the baby would hate everything I tried to feed it, and I’d be the world’s worst Maid of Honor and mother because I didn’t check on the meat.

“What’s all mushrooms?” Nate talked slowly. “You gotta give me a little bit more.”