He nodded, dropped a kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The overwhelming reality that was him and me crested in a staggering wave. It was something I’d never get used to. Never wanted to get used to. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He kissed my forehead, gently touched my stomach before leaning down to kiss that too, and then he was gone.
In the silence after his departure, I waited for the sound of the guest room door to close, and I knew he’d be out of the house before dawn. Curling into a ball, I inhaled his scent off the sheets and sighed happily.
The room was lit by the bright, full moon, and I stared at the pristine white bag hanging from the hook on the bathroom door. Inside of it was my dress—flawless, uninterrupted ivory fabric with tiny straps and a simple design that banded around my waist, cut low over my modest chest, even lower down my back.
The skirt was flowy and full, perfect for a spring backyard wedding. Also, perfect to accommodate a slightly widening waistline, a secret that Tristan and I had decided to keep to ourselves for now. Not because we didn’t want to celebrate with our families, but because there was a sweetness in having this time be just about the two of us.
I pulled myself out of bed to go clean up in the bathroom, and when I was done, because I couldn’t resist, I lowered the zipper on the garment bag by just a few inches, merely to remind myself that tomorrow, I’d walk down a flower-lined aisle wearing that beautiful dress, that at the end of it would be Tristan.
With a tired smile on my face, I crawled back into our big, empty bed and wished he was there to wrap me in his arms.
My hand gently rubbed my stomach and I stared down at it, still trying to reconcile that this was my life.
“Baby,” I whispered. “You and I won the lottery. Someday you’ll know that like I know it, but until you do, we’ll just love you.”
I took a moment and closed my eyes, imagined a little boy that had my eyes, Tristan’s smile, the one he showed so rarely. Imagined a girl with my black hair and his brown eyes. I didn’t care what we had, we’d already decided we wanted to be surprised. That we wouldn’t pick a name until he or she made their grand entrance.
How they looked, who they took after, and whatever they turned out to be, they’d be perfect.
And with my eyes closed, sleep again came easily, because I knew what would happen after the sun broke open in the sky.
Two
The Day Of
Tristan
Up until thirty seconds ago, everything had been perfect.
Up until thirty seconds ago, I was so happy that I almost felt embarrassed. My smiles were easy, my laughter was given freely to almost anyone who approached me among those gathered in our backyard.
The sun was bright and warm, only a few puffy white clouds breaking up the sky. There was just enough of a breeze pushing through the branches of the aspen trees along the back of our property that I could hear the leaves through the happy chatter.
And the sprawling branches of the tree where Anna and I would get married looked like something out of a fairy tale, just as she’d said. White lights dripped down like strips of sunlight, were wound around the branches and the trunk so that even when the sun went down, the whole area would be lit.
It was impossible to believe that our yard had been transformed into something so magical.
Then again, it was also impossible to believe that my brother Michael just walked up to me with a chicken under his arm and a nervous look on his face.
“Why are you carrying Petunia?” I asked.
“She has a name?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Of course, she has a name. They all do. Anna likes to talk to them when she pulls the eggs out.”
He swallowed. “Just hear me out.”
My eyebrows lifted slowly.
Behind him, my three-year-old niece Piper poked her head out and gave me a wide-eyed look that roughly translated to uh-oh.
“What happened?” I asked when he didn’t speak.
“I was showing the kids the chicken coop.”
“Okay.”
“The rooster is big,” Piper said in a dramatic whisper.
I made sure I was smiling when I looked down at her. “He is, kiddo. His name is Wentworth.”
She blinked.
Michael cleared his throat, not interested in the Jane Austen hero that Anna named our rooster after.
“So, uhh, Wentworth or whatever the hell his name is, came charging at me and I got a little freaked out.” He licked his lips and shifted Petunia under his arm. Her brown speckled feathers looked out of place against the navy blue of Michael’s suit, which matched mine. He was the only person standing up for me, and Rory, Anna’s sister-in-law would be the only person standing up for her. Or maybe I’d have an empty spot next to me depending on what was about to come out of his mouth next.
“And…” I said slowly.
He sucked in a quick breath. “And I thought he was going to like, eat my children or something, so I picked them up because they were screaming and scaring the chickens and that damn cock was flapping his wings and I wasn’t really paying attention, and Piper got her foot stuck in my jacket pocket.”
I narrowed my eyes. Piper blinked again.
“I sorry, Uncle Tristan,” she whispered.
Michael’s eyes pinched shut. “It’s not your fault, sweet pea. It’s daddy’s fault.”
She nodded solemnly and then ducked behind his legs again. Petunia clucked unhappily.
“What happened?”
“Petunia ate Anna’s ring,” he blurted.
“What?” I yelled.
He cringed. Then I cringed, because a couple guests looked over at us. Slowly, I inhaled, imagining the pristine gold circle that we’d picked to curve around her vintage engagement ring.
I pointed at the chicken. “That chicken ate her ring.”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Michael,” I warned. I didn’t even know what I was warning him about, but it felt like something I needed to do.
His face was turning a sickly shade of green.
“I … I think it got caught on the edge of Piper’s shoe, and when I pulled it out of my pocket, it fell on the ground. I didn’t notice the ring was down there until Petunia got this crazy look in her beady little eyes. What kind of chicken eats jewelry? You got some psycho birds here, brother. Rooster attacking my children, a ring-eating chicken,” he muttered. “Why couldn’t you guys just get a dog like normal people?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. In about fifteen minutes, the guests would take their seats, and I’d take my place next to the minister underneath the tree, where I’d wait for the love of my life to walk to me.
And her ring was inside Petunia the chicken.
“Why is Michael holding a chicken?” my friend, and soon to be brother-in-law Garrett asked as he walked up to us. Behind him were our friends Cole and Dylan.
I gestured at my brother. “Please, Michael, feel free to explain.”
In tandem, all three guys turned to Michael, who got even greener. Piper stuck her head out again.
“The chicken eated the ring,” she cried with a big smile on her face.
Dylan’s mouth popped open. Cole tipped his head back and muttered something under his breath. Garrett’s head swung between me, Michael and the chicken.
He pointed. “It’s in there? My sister’s wedding ring is in there?”
I nodded slowly.
“In the chicken?” he clarified.
Michael squared his shoulders. “Tell Tristan to keep his stupid rooster under control and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
Garrett burst out laughing. Dylan fought a smile. Michael looked like he was going to pass out, but probably because I was giving him a glare so potent that his balls probably shriveled up. Cole put a consoling hand on my shoulder.