“You mean you’re not pregnant? That’s not why we’re having this shotgun wedding?” the chief bellowed.
My head jerked up at the word pregnant. I stared and processed in my head what he just said, and what the rest of the family members might have thought about us. It never occurred to me everyone would think that we were rushing into marriage because I might be pregnant.
Mortified. Horrified. Aghast.
I felt all of the above.
Jake almost fell off his barstool howling in laughter. The rest of the family looked at me apologetically for jumping to this conclusion, and embarrassed for putting me in such an awkward situation.
If I wanted the ground to swallow me up earlier, now I wanted to stay there till after the wedding. How would I face every guest who would be thinking what my immediate family members thought?
Jake finally calmed down enough to pull me to his lap and comfort me. He knew the scenario I had conjured up in my head.
“Don’t worry. When everyone sees us at Christmas minus a big belly, they will realize that you and I did not have a shotgun wedding. That is…unless you want to be pregnant right away. Then we can start trying even today.” Jake somehow turned this situation even worse.
I turned to Bobby and Sandy, hoping someone would be on my side. “Mom, Dad, did you also think I was pregnant?
“Sweetheart, we’re sorry! We did think it was odd you and Jake wanted to get married so quickly. Most couples don’t have three-week engagements. The thought did cross our minds.” They looked as mortified as I felt.
“Let’s go up to our room,” Jake said trying to break my flabbergasted glower. “Let me give you all the bank account numbers,” he added, pulling me off the stool, and pulling my hand toward his room.
We got away from the family and Jake stopped and looked concerned.
“You OK?”
After thinking about it, I let it go. I had overreacted. It would only be natural for people to assume we wanted to get married right away before my stomach popped.
“I’m fine.” I looked into his sparkling blue eyes and felt protected. Once again, I couldn’t imagine being in a better place with a better man.
“I’m guessing you won’t let me finish where we left off last night?” he suggested, pushing me against the wall, mouth nibbling on my ear.
“You’re guessing correctly!” I said, attempting to pull away. “Jake?”
“Hmm?” His lips traveled to the neck while the hands rummaged under my shirt.
“Can I come visit you at the hospital and have lunch with you today?”
Delighted, Jake’s head popped up.
“I’d love that, Emi. My colleagues keep asking when you’re going to stop by. When do you want to come?”
“Maybe around 1:00 p.m.? Will you be done with your morning surgery? I’ll make you something yummy for lunch.”
“I should be. If I’m not done, wait for me in my office and I’ll meet you there.”
Uncle Henry’s loud voice bellowed up the stairs. “Dr. Reid, we’ve got a patient in OR waiting for us. You can work on that baby later.”
We both shook our heads and laughed.
“See you later. I’m excited you’re coming by. I love you.”
“I love you too,” were my last words, as I let Jake go save more lives.
Once Jake left, it was back to wedding preparations. Sandy and Barbara simultaneously agreed on linen colors as well the China pattern for the tables. They leaned toward a classic look for the wedding and I agreed with their every suggestion. The only area of interest for me was the dinner menu. I would voice my opinion when the caterer stopped by with her suggestions for the meal.
Midmorning, I made the sushi rice, filleted the fish, and cut them up into sushi and sashimi slices. I also put the rest of the frozen croissants in the oven for the nurses at the hospital. Aunt Barbara, Sandy, and Bobby sat down to lunch while I began working on a bento box for Jake, the chief, and myself.
While in Japan, I found these beautiful round bento boxes during my visit to Kappabashi, the restaurant supply district. I placed a large green leaf in each of the five boxes and began assembling the sushi pieces. The bottom layer contained sliced-up pineapples, strawberries, blueberries, and oranges with whipped cream in a separated container. A nigiri sushi sat on the second tier. There was toro, hamachi, kinmedai, hirame, sake, uni, and amaebi. In the third box, I arranged sashimi pieces on top of shredded daikon radishes, just like they did at sushi bars. In the fourth, partitioned box, I placed a salad and little pickled side dishes I purchased at the fish market. The top box had all the shrimp and veggie tempura. I wrapped the bento box in a large silk scarf, put the miso soup with amaebi heads in a thermos, and the necessary utensils in another carrying case, and I left for the hospital.