“Don’t be a downer, Gin,” Roman scolded. “You’ll get your chance one day. Besides, we have a marriage pact, remember?”
Ginny frowned. “We made that like six years ago and I hardly think it stood the test of time.”
“What do you mean?”
“For starters, you came out of the closet,” Ginny said flatly.
“True,” Roman said, “but if we’re spitting truths here, be honest. You’ve known I was gay from the second you laid eyes on me.”
Ginny tapped her nails on the side of her glass. “I suppose you’re right.”
Roman nodded in a you-can’t-get-anything-past-me sort of way. “It’s not a marriage of lust or romance, Gin. Ours was a pact so we wouldn’t have to be alone when we turned fifty. If neither of us are in committed relationships, we both get the wedding of our dreams. To each other.”
I massaged my temples. “The two of you would have the most hideous wedding imaginable.”
Roman’s eyes widened with mock horror. “I beg your fucking pardon?”
I laughed. “Oh, come on, Roman! You’d be making sure your ensemble—dress or suit or whatever you decide—outshone Ginny’s. All the while, Ginny would be trying to find the biggest, sexiest, most memorable dress she possibly could. And which one of you would walk down the aisle?”
Ginny and Roman shared a look. Roman winced. “I supposed we didn’t iron out all the details.”
“It’s a wedding of circumstance, not realizing our dreams,” Ginny said. “I feel like we would both make compromises.”
“I’m not going,” I said. They glared at me. “I mean it. That sounds like a toxic trash fire and I have no interest in breathing my last breath as I try to catch one of your bouquets. And what, would I be both of your maid of honors?”
“Yes,” they said.
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I’d rather jump in the ocean covered in maple syrup and blood and let the fish and the sharks have me.”
“That’s a bit extreme,” Roman said, dejected.
“I second that,” Ginny said.
I shrugged, set my drink down on the coaster on my coffee table, and made my way into the kitchen to check on the brie. It was melted and soft looking, with crisp browning on the skin around the edges. “I think it’s done,” I announced as I donned my black oven mitts.
I returned to the living room with the cheese appetizer while Roman and Ginny went about bringing in the charcuterie board. We wasted little time digging into the melted brie and all three of us burned the roof of our mouths at the same time.
As we sat around fanning our mouths and trying to chase away the pain with sips of champagne, Roman nodded at me. “So what about the baby shower? Was it as difficult as you expected it to be?”
Roman, Ginny, and Jackson were the only three people in the world who knew I couldn’t carry babies. After experiencing some lower abdomen pain for months on end and going to the doctor to check things out, I learned that I had an oddly shaped uterus, which in turn made it impossible for a fertilized egg to latch.
That had been the worst day of my life.
Every dream I’d ever had about my future vanished in a puff of smoke.
Poof.
Gone.
Six years later, I was still struggling with this truth on a daily basis. Sure, I could bury my head in the sand and stay so busy at work that I’d forget motherhood wasn’t in the cards for me, but all of that would come rushing back as soon as the workday ended and I was home alone.
It was better now than it had been, but it still hurt. A lot.
“It wasn’t easy,” I told my friends. “But I’m glad I went. Jackson and Hailey deserve this and I want to be part of it. I’m just going to have to take it day by day. And having you guys in my corner helps. Thank you for all the pep talks and the love. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”
“We’ll always be here for you, Katie,” Ginny promised.
“And there are other ways to have what you want,” Roman reminded me for the hundred thousandth time since he’d learned about my rebellious uterus.
I nodded. “I know. Sorry, can we talk about something else? I don’t want to put a damper on the night.”
“Absolutely,” Ginny said.
Roman popped an olive in his mouth. “Tell us what it was like kissing Peter. Is he a good kisser? Did he get into it?”