Once Upon A Half-Time 2(74)

He hadn’t called. I tried once, but I couldn’t will the words out for a voice mail. Texting was just as horrible. I had no idea what to say, what to write.

How to fix it.

I loaded the flowers in the car and hurried to the church for the final wedding preparations and rehearsal…cheese and crackers? It wasn’t even a dinner at this point. My great aunt’s insulted spirit wouldn’t have to haunt us to wreck the wedding. It was already a disaster.

And I wasn’t sure how much energy I had left to pull us together.

I hopped out of the car and promptly broke the heel on my black shoes.

Yep. That was karma. They were my only pair for the night, and I hadn’t brought a change of clothes. The mourning black dress seemed less sincere as I limped into the party with an armload of stolen—borrowed—funeral flowers.

I set the bundle on the card tables haphazardly sprawled across the church’s back lawn. The bridal party hustled to set up chairs, finalize the seating chart, write out name tags, string the lights and load the premade food into the fellowship hall.

Mom and Dad screamed at each other, though I had no idea what the family vacation from 1999 had to do with stringing crepe paper between rows of off center chairs. The Washingtons and Rick struggled with a busted ladder and a strand of flickering Christmas lights.

Lindsey surveyed the yard in yoga pants and white pumps, trying to break in her shoes and memorize pitted places in the grass. Bryce followed behind, discretely searching the ground too, but for something smaller than potential divots…

I pretended not to see the empty ring box in his hand.

All normal chaos.

I searched, but one person was still missing.

Nate wasn’t here.

The thought crushed me, but I didn’t let it show. My family was already in shambles, and I ran out of material to patch them together. At this point, I tugged only on strings, and most of them were mine as I unraveled.

We only had to survive one more day, then Nate and I could really discuss things without the shock fueling our arguments.

If it wasn’t too late.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, Conrad,” Mom stood, hands on her hips as Dad strung more crepe paper. “You got your wish. A small wedding in a fellowship hall. Or outside of it. Why aren’t you celebrating?"

“My hands are a little full right now, Sandra. We’ll leap for joy later, when the kids have an extra ten grand they can use for a down payment on the house.”

“They have their entire lives to pay off a mortgage. This day is special.”

“They’re getting a special day,” Dad said.

“How? In the middle of a backyard? With traffic and noise and no string quartet?”

“What do you want from me? It’s not like I can do CPR on Mildred!” He laughed as Mom sputtered. “Go ahead. Tell me her dying is my fault.”

“Your attitude isn’t helping!” Mom shouted. “This is their only wedding day!”

“We hope.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you throw that in my face today of all days.”

Dad snorted. “I’m getting real tired of playing hot and cold with you, Sandra. I’ve accepted my fault in our marriage. When will you?”

“I accepted fault for thirty years!”

“Like hell.”

I found a chair at the far corner of the yard where I could ignore the screaming. I checked my to-do list.



Cookies

Flowers

Find Nate

Try on dress

Apologize to Nate

Salon-Hair and nails in the AM

Declare feelings to Nate

Beg Nate to talk to me

Just be with Nate





Not much of it was doable.

I was supposed to check things off, not add more problems to solve. But nothing I said or did would forgive me for keeping the secret about the pregnancy.

Now it wasn’t about me. I had to think about the baby. I spent too long running scared, and it wasn’t fair to the little guy or girl who deserved as much love and attention and care as I could give. Part of that would include taking better care of myself.

After Nate had left, I tossed and turned and threw up all night. I was already a pregnancy-zombie, shuffling around in a state of tempered terror and exhaustion. I might have fallen asleep in the chair right there if Lindsey hadn’t screamed for the flowers.

That was my cue.

I rose, a little weepy and a lot nauseous. It was the classic pregnancy duo, back to strike me down. I emptied my car and dropped most of the baskets and wreaths near where we planned to set up the altar.

Lindsey stared at me like I’d dragged Mildred herself to the party.

She gasped. “Did you…take the flowers?”

“I borrowed the flowers. It’s not stealing. It’s resourceful.”