It had felt like fate. Then all three embryos had taken. And now here I am, hurting because the man I used to love won’t accept me the way I am. What a waste of energy.
Annoyed at her weakness, she picked up the phone and put in a call to Rose’s Posies. As her wedding gift to Jack and Anya, she was providing the bouquets for the bride and for two flower girls, as well as for one of Anya’s sisters, who was flying in from Colorado to serve as maid of honor.
The shop owner, Rose Nguyen, answered on the fourth ring. “I’ll go check to be sure my daughter has all in order,” she said after Melissa explained she was calling to confirm the arrangements. “Hold for Violet, okay?”
“Thanks.” Melissa smiled at the name of Rose’s daughter. Like her mother’s, it was sweetly appropriate.
She stretched her legs, slipped off her pumps and rested her swollen feet on a stool beneath the desk while making a mental note to buy larger shoes. Preferably before Saturday, to go with the flowing silk caftan she’d found at the Gently Used & Useful thrift shop.
Heat flooded her at the realization that, flattering as the lavender print dress might be, it emphasized her girth. She’d been rather proud of that until Edmond mentioned bringing a date.
Who was it? The legal secretary or the receptionist from his office, a friend from L.A., or a new acquaintance? She’d probably be pretty, smart and slim.
Melissa shook her head at her insecurities. Take Lucky’s advice. Stop obsessing.
On the other end of the line, someone picked up. “Ms. Everhart?” It was Violet. “Let me review the order with you to be sure we have everything as you requested.”
“Good idea.”
A few minutes later, as they finished talking, Melissa’s stomach quivered. No, that wasn’t her stomach. She clamped her hand to her abdomen. The babies were moving. Although they’d been visibly active during a recent ultrasound, she hadn’t been able to feel them.
Her tests had revealed three girls, but until now they’d remained figures on a screen. This fluttery sensation filled her with wonder. My daughters are playing.
Picking up the sonogram picture, she studied the tiny people until tears blurred her vision. They were helpless, utterly dependent on their lone parent. Sometimes the reality of her pregnancy and her future as a single mom to triplets was overwhelming, but she could do it.
Everyone believed in her ability to love and raise them—her friends, her coworkers and Nell and Vernon Grant, the couple who’d donated the embryos. Everyone except Edmond. Well, he was wrong, just as he’d been wrong three years ago.
As for how she’d compare on Saturday to whoever he was bringing to the wedding, why should she care? They’d spent five happy years together but, ultimately, he’d been the wrong man for her.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to stop by The Baby Bump on her way home. Perhaps the shop carried something more flattering than the billowy lavender dress.
A white satin bow and a bouquet of red, white and blue balloons adorned the mailbox in front of the two-story house. Edmond didn’t have to check the address as he wedged his black sedan into a space by the curb. Even had the decorations not identified this as the wedding site, it was the only residence along this stretch of Pelican Lane, bordering the salt marsh and ending half a block away at the Pacific Ocean. If there’d been other homes here in the past, they must have been bought up and removed to restore the estuary.
“Is this it?” His wedding date, her green eyes filled with uncertainty, regarded the rolling lawn and long gravel driveway packed with vehicles.
“We’re here,” he confirmed. As she unstrapped the belt that she’d carefully positioned to avoid wrinkling her party dress, Edmond reached for his door handle. The ground was soft, and he’d prefer to carry her rather than risk dirtying her sparkly shoes.
Although he’d been warned, he hadn’t been prepared for the pungent smell that struck his nostrils the instant he stepped out. His date noticed, too, of course. As he swung her from her seat and around to the roadway, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Pee-yoo.”
“Want to borrow those nose clips?” He’d shown them to her earlier.
She gave him a gap-toothed smile. “That might leave red marks, Uncle Eddie.”
“We can’t have that!”
“A fairy princess has to look perfect,” she agreed.
“And so you do.” Taking her hand, he led seven-year-old Dawn along the street bordering the yard. There was no sidewalk.
Behind the house and on either side stretched marshy land that, he’d read on the city’s website, provided refuge for hundreds of bird species as well as wildlife from rabbits to coyotes. As for vegetation and terrain, the site had mentioned pickleweed, cattails, mudflats and tidal sloughs. No wonder the place stank.
Yet Geoff Humphreys’s wife, Paula, a second-grade teacher, had declared the estuary far more interesting than the sailboat-filled marina that gave Safe Harbor its name, or the enticing stretch of sandy beach on the west side of town. Edmond supposed that the educator had a valid perspective, but he was far from impressed. The house itself appeared inviting, though, with a wide front porch and clean white paint trimmed in blue.
As he rang the bell, his niece pressed against his side. Dawn had become shy this past year, which was understandable in view of the turmoil in her family. With matters still unsettled, Edmond was doing his best to keep her spirits up.
The door flew open. Two girlish faces, both topped by curly red hair, peered out eagerly. “Hi!” declared the taller one, whom he guessed to be about twelve. “I’m Tiffany, Jack’s niece. Well, he’s our cousin really, but he’s more like an uncle.”
“I’m Amber,” said the younger one, who wore a matching blue dress with red-and-white trim.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Edmond Everhart and this is Dawn.” He saw no reason to explain further.
As they entered the house, Dawn indicated circlets of blue-and-white blossoms atop the girls’ heads. “What pretty flowers!”
“We’re the flower girls,” Amber said. “See, we match!” She pointed to the blossoms festooning the banister of the nearby staircase.
Tiffany regarded Edmond speculatively. “Everhart. Are you related to Melissa?”
“Yes. Is she around?” He’d rather not provide details of his marital situation.
“She’s in the kitchen.”
“But the wedding’s that way.” Amber pointed to their right.
“Thank you both.” Amused by the unconventional welcome, Edmond escorted Dawn into the high-ceilinged living room.
Curio cabinets dominated the far wall, with a striped sofa positioned beneath the front windows, no doubt shifted to provide space in the center. Several dozen chairs, half of them already filled, faced a slightly elevated dining room at the rear. Its table had been moved to accommodate a flower-covered arch, while a boom box in one corner played an instrumental version of “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
Edmond recognized some of the guests as hospital staff.