The Truth About Ever After (25 page)

“Why
are you worrying about me?” she asked. “Oh, Kiki. I am so, so sorry. When did
this happen?”

I
finally opened my eyes, looking over at her. She looked much paler than she had
a moment before, her face the picture of worry.

“Remember
that stomach bug?” I asked. “Back in February?”

“Kiki,”
she breathed. “That was months ago. Why on earth didn’t you tell me? I should
have been there for you!”

I
shook my head. “I was going to,” I said. “But then you told me about your
pregnancy, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Oh
my God,” she said. “That was the same time, wasn’t it? I remember because I was
worried you wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner…”

“It
was that same week, yeah,” I said. “I was going to tell you that night, but…”

“But
I was going on and on about my pregnancy,” she said. “God, I feel terrible!
That was probably the last thing on earth you wanted to hear then. Kiki, I’m so
sorry.”

“You
didn’t do anything wrong,” I told her firmly. “Seriously, Jen. None of this is
your fault. Of course you were excited about your baby! I was excited, too! And
I should have told you about this ages ago; it was just really bad timing.”

I
started to cry again, the guilt hitting me all over again. “I knew I wasn’t
acting like myself and I was worried if I told you why you would think that I
was jealous or…or resentful or something.” I tried to silence the little voice
in my head that admitted I had been resentful. Jen didn’t need to know that.

Jen
was crying too. “I hate that you had to go through this alone. I hate that I
wasn’t there for you.”

“I
wasn’t alone,” I told her, trying to get myself together. I was upsetting her,
the last thing in the world she needed right now. “My parents knew, and my mom
has been great. And Eric, of course.” I tried not to think of how strained
things had become with my husband. Another thing Jen didn’t need to know.
“Miscarriages are really common that early,” I went on, trying to bring the
drama down a notch. “The doctor assured me it that it wouldn’t mean I won’t be
able to get pregnant again.”

“You
don’t need to do this,” Jen said. “You don’t need to minimize it for me, Kiki.”

I
smiled at her. “I know,” I said, cuddling a little closer to her on the bed.
“But I don’t want to feel sad right now. I want to be excited about your baby.
Your little girl baby.”

Jen
looked at me closely for a moment, as if she was deciding whether I was being
honest or not. Finally, she smiled. “My little girl baby,” she said. “Who is
going to be ridiculously spoiled by her Aunt Kiki.
”

“You
got that right,” I said. “Oh my God, I can’t wait! We’ll have to rethink the
nursery now. Nothing neutral, and I don’t care what Annie says. We’re going to
make the fairy princess bedroom to end all fairy princess bedrooms.” Suddenly I
started giggling. “Oh man,
Matty
is going to hate me
so much.”

Jen
laughed too. “He can deal with it. I have a feeling I’m going to get bit by the
pink bug just as much as you are.”

Impulsively,
I leaned over and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m so happy for you, Jen,” I
whispered into her shoulder. “And I’m so excited for this baby.”

“Thank
you, Kiki,” she said, her voice sounding thick. I got the sense she wanted to
say something more, maybe about my situation, but she didn’t, and I was
grateful.

“You
know what this means, don’t you?” she asked once I had released her and moved
back to the other pillow. “You’re going to be in charge a whole lot sooner than
we had planned. I might be able to do a few things from here, but I have a
feeling Matt won’t let me do much.”

I
shook my head. “No way. You’re not doing anything. I’ll be fine.”

“We
have Sarah’s wedding next month,” she said, sounding worried. “It’s a huge
deal, Kiki. It’s way too much work for one person.”

“Not
your problem,” I said firmly. “Seriously, Jen, I’ll hire whatever help I need.
I’ve got this.”

She
looked skeptical, but I changed the subject before she could argue anymore.
“So, have you given any thought to baby names? Because I think Kiki is an
awesome name for a little girl.”

Jen
laughed. “Will you please let me be there when you suggest it to Matt?”

I
laughed with her.
Telling Jen had been the right decision
,
I knew it
. Lying there with her, thinking about her
little baby girl, I felt better,
more free
, than I had
in months.

Chapter Twenty-five

The
office was lonely without Jen. We finally hired an intern, Marcus, to help with
some of the workload. He was a cool guy with a wicked fashion sense, but it
just wasn’t the same. Even worse, I could no longer count on Jen as a buffer
between Sarah and myself. The wedding was fast approaching, only a month away,
which meant I was spending a good portion of every day in contact with Sarah.

“You
can do this,” I whispered to myself, sitting in my car and staring out at the
country club façade. “It’s just one afternoon. You’re a pro.”

I
groaned and opened the door, not much bolstered by my own pep talk. Yes, it
might just be one afternoon, but it was still going to be hell. I grabbed a box
from the backseat of my car and headed up to the imposing front entrance.

As
I walked into the main foyer, I was struck by how little had changed. I hadn’t
been inside the club for years, probably not since college. My parents were
still members here, but even they visited much less frequently. I sighed as the
heavy smell of lilies and gardenia settled over me. May as well get this
started.

I
found the dining room where we were holding the shower with no problem. The
staff had already been busy carrying out my instruction. A huge urn of summer
roses was stationed outside the dining room door. Next to that I would put the
poster-sized, black-and-white photograph I had of Sarah and her fiancé. I had
suggested we add a bouquet of balloons, but Mrs.
Vandermark
had looked at me like I had three heads. “We’re not really balloon people,
dear.”

There
was no sign of Sarah or her mother in the room, and I sighed in relief. I would
have a few moments, at least, to get set up without them hovering.

“Hello,
Mrs. Thompson,” a soft voice said from the doorway. I turned and saw Michael,
the club manager, standing in the doorway. I smiled at him warmly; I had always
liked Michael. Over the years I had watched him put up with a constant string
of
ill-mannered
, demanding members, and he always did
so with grace and politeness.

“Michael,”
I said, rushing over to give him a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“We
miss you around here,” he said after I had released him. “It’s been far too
long.”

“I
know,” I told him. “I’m just so busy these days.”

“Yes,
your father tells me. He’s so proud of you and your business venture, Kiki.
It’s all he ever talks about when he’s here.”

I
blushed, feeling a rush of affection for my father. I needed to get over to the
house to see him, and my mom. It had been way too long.

“Well,
your staff has done a great job here,” I said, gesturing around the room. “It
looks great. Sure makes my job easier.”

“You
were very clear with your instructions,” he said, deflecting praise as he
normally did. “Anyhow, I just stopped by to let you know that you’ll have the
full service of five waiters and two bartenders. Marie will be your club
hostess for the afternoon, available to assist you in anything you need. How
does that sound?”

“Perfect.
Man, I may as well go home, you guys have it covered.”

Michael
smiled at me once more before leaving me alone in the dining room. I looked
around, checking everything off against a mental list in my head. White linen
tablecloths, matching chair covers, a vase of flowers on every table, table set
with the club’s finest china and real silver flatware. It was perfect—a
bit impersonal for my taste, but the kind of event that would please the
Vandermarks
, I was sure.

I
set to work, pulling black-and-white pictures of Sarah and her fiancé out of
the box I had brought in. Sarah’s request for decorations had been lots of
flowers, and lots of pictures of herself. I had worked with a photographer to
get these black-and-whites printed out from her engagement photos. I looked
down at the one in my hand. It was a beautiful shot—the photographer was
obviously very talented—but I couldn’t help but think it would be a
better picture if either of them actually looked happy in it.

Once
I had set up the pictures and placed the white gold picture frames (from
Tiffany’s, of course) around the room, I headed out to the hallway to set up
the poster-sized print on the tripod the club had provided.

“Kiki,
this is a disaster!”

I
spun around to find Sarah striding toward me. She looked beautiful in a cream-colored
Michael
Kors
shift. It hung off her slight frame like
she was a runway model. I could have never pulled it off.

“What’s
wrong?” I asked. “You look gorgeous, by the way, bride-to-be.”

She
waved off my compliment. “They’re only providing us with two valets,” she said,
breathing heavily. “Can you believe that? Two!”

I
bit my tongue so that I wouldn’t tell her that the members-only parking lot
always had plenty of spaces, and it wouldn’t kill her guests to walk ten feet
into the building. “Don’t worry,” I said instead. “I’ll talk directly with
Michael and get this resolved. You are not supposed to stress out about
anything today. That’s my job.”

Her
face relaxed. “Thank you,” she said. “Can I go inside and peek?”

“If
you want,” I said. “The room is almost ready to go, but the cake hasn’t arrived
yet.”

“That’s
okay,” she said. “I can see the cake later.”

I
followed her into the room, crossing my fingers behind my back. I may not like
Sarah very much, but I had worked damn hard on this shower, and I did want her
to like it.

“Oh,
my gosh
,” she murmured. “Kiki, this is beautiful,
exactly how I pictured it!”

She
turned to me, her face alight with a smile. I felt a jolt of pleasure shoot
through me.

“I’m
glad you like it,” I told her sincerely. “I need to set up for the games. Are
you and your bridesmaids in a room upstairs?”

“Yes.
They had mimosa and pastries set out for us when we arrived; it was so nice.”

I
smiled again. “I thought you might like that. Now, go upstairs and relax. I’ll
send your mom up to fetch you guys when everything is ready.”

After
Sarah left, I marveled at her ability to still make me feel like I needed her
approval. What was it about this girl that made me want to please her so bad?
It was no different than any of the compliments she had paid me over the years.
Kara and I would bitch about how mean she was, but as soon as she said
something nice to us we would go all giggling and simpering. I thought of what
Eric had always said about her, and felt the now-familiar accompanying pang
about the state of our relationship. I knew Eric was right about her, that
Sarah was mean, judgmental, and manipulative, so why the heck did I care what
she thought?

***

The
shower was in full swing and we had yet to hit any snags. The games I’d planned
had gone over great, the food was delicious, the spiked punch was flowing, and
everyone seemed to be having a good time. All I had to do now was get through
the cake and the gifts and we’d be good to go, one step closer to putting this
wedding in the books.

“Kiki,
you’ve done such a nice job here,” Beth said, coming up to sit beside me. “I
feel so bad that I haven’t helped too much with the planning. It’s so hard
being a mother,
Kiks
; you’re so lucky to be free of
that.”

I
smiled at her tightly. “I’m sure your little boy makes it all worth it.”

“Oh,
of course,” she cooed, in that terribly simpering way she had. Beth was pretty
and well dressed, and everything else that was required of a young lady in
Sarah’s circle, but I had always thought she was a bit plain. I wondered what
she would look like without any makeup on. I didn’t think that I had ever once,
in all the years I had known her, seen her without her makeup on—and we’d
had gym together back at school.

“So
what about you?” she asked, leaning toward me conspiratorially. “Any family
plans on the way for you?”

I
grimaced. What was it about people that they thought they had the right to ask
such a personal question? I briefly considered telling her that I’d had a
miscarriage and any mention of babies would send me over the edge to nervous
breakdown. That would probably shut her up. Instead I smiled and told her Eric
and I didn’t want to rush things.

She
gave me a sympathetic look. “I just hate seeing you work so hard, Kiki. It
doesn’t seem… appropriate. We never see you around
anymore,
you never come to the club or to any of the Junior League stuff. Wouldn’t you
be happier if you could quit your job?”