"We're going to have the best time hanging out as single girls again," she said. "What are you doing tonight? Henry Fabuss is throwing a big bash at Lotus this evening—for his thirtieth. We should totally go. He's such a hoot—and he's so totally dialed in, you know? Everyone's going to be there. It would really get your mind off this."
"Not tonight," I said. "I think I just need some alone time. In fact, I think I'm going home now. I can't stand being here—and I don't want anyone to see me crying."
"Want me to come with you? I'm sure Cal would let me leave with you," she said. "We could go shopping. Retail therapy."
"No, thanks. I think I want to be alone," I said, even though I was actually planning to be with Marcus.
"Okay," she said, obviously disappointed. "I understand."
"I just need to get this e-mail out before I leave. Can you read it see what you think?"
Proofing my e-mails used to be Rachel's role. She had been so good at it. I vowed to banish her from my thoughts. She was persona non grata until her apology came forth in skywriting. Meanwhile, Claire took her job seriously, leaning in close to my monitor, and reading the e-mail twice. She finally looked up, gave me a brisk nod, and said it was fine, just fine. So I hit send and sashayed down the hall, relishing the stares and whispers from my colleagues along the way.
* * *
nine
Marcus agreed to leave work early and meet me back at his apartment, where we had fantastic sex. Afterward, I rested my head on his chest and told him my conference room tale.
"I'm surprised you didn't jet with the Tiffany box," he said after I had finished the story.
"I wanted to," I said. "I bet it was something good… Oh, well. We'll get a replacement when you and I get married."
No response.
"Do you want to talk about that?" I probed, stroking his arm.
"Talk about what?"
"Us getting married."
"Um—okay. What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"Well, don't you want to do it before the baby's born?" I asked, thinking that I couldn't even focus on my pregnancy until the details of our relationship were squared away. Besides, I was already in full-on wedding mode. There was no reason to let my preparations lapse. I even planned on keeping my dress, knowing that I couldn't find a better gown. "I think we should talk about it. Don't you?"
"I guess so," he said reluctantly.
I chose to ignore his tone and pressed on. "Okay—so when do you think we should do it?"
"I don't know. In six months?"
"When I'm totally showing? No, thanks."
"Five months?"
"Marcus!"
"Four?"
"No. Too long. I think we should do it right away. Or as soon as we can get some plans together."
"I thought you said that we were going to just get a justice of the peace?"
I had, in fact, said something like that somewhere along the line. But that was back when I actually worried about Dexter's feelings. Back when I wasn't even sure that Marcus and I were going to end up together. Now I wanted to have a big wedding just to spite Dex and Rachel and invite all of our mutual friends. I'd invite Rachel's parents too, and then they could report back to her how beautiful I looked, how thrilled I was in my new relationship, how moving Claire's toast was.
"Well, I was actually thinking that we could have a little ceremony. Just something small. Like fifty people or so." My count was more like one hundred, one twenty-five, but I would ease him into the idea.
"Fifty, huh? So pretty much immediate family?" he asked as he scratched the back of his neck.
"Yeah, pretty much. And our closest friends."
He smirked. "Like Dex and Rachel?"
I gave him a look.
"No?" he asked, grinning. "Not Dex and Rachel?" "Be serious! What do you think about having a real wedding?" He shrugged and then said, "I'm not sure about all that. That's not really my thing. I'm still kind of thinking that the justice of the peace is the way to go. Or we could elope. I don't know. Do we have to talk about this right now?"
"Okay, fine." I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that he probably wasn't going to be satisfying about a wedding. But what guy really is? Other than those repulsive, girly types on TLC's A Wedding Story who blubber their way through the ceremony. And who wants a guy like that?
Later that evening, after Marcus and I came back from dinner, I checked my messages. I had twenty-two at work, fourteen at home. Thirty-six messages in eight hours. And only two were work related. Which meant thirty-four personal messages. Likely an all-time personal record. I sat at Marcus's table, listening to the words of support as I took notes on a pad. When I got to the very last message, the third one from Claire, I looked up at Marcus. "They didn't call," I said, shocked. "Neither one of them."
"Did you think they would?" Marcus asked.
"Yes. They owe me a call. Especially Rachel."
"But didn't you say that you never wanted to speak to her again?"
I shot him a look of annoyance. "She should still try to call and apologize…"
Marcus shrugged.
"And as for Dex, I have to talk to him. About logistics. The wedding stuff," I said. "I just can't believe neither one of them called."
Marcus shrugged again. "I don't know what to tell you."
"Okay. For the record, I abhor that statement."
"What statement?"