ready in my room, I leave the big window open. I feel the first, distant wafts of fall as they greet the morning with cool, revitalizing breezes. A kinder sun greets me in the clear blue sky.
I am endlessly grateful.
Light as a feather.
It is as though the next chapter of my life is about to begin in the best way possible… on a beautiful day, with me carrying the token of love Jake and I share inside of me.
My mother and cousins flutter around, coming in and out of the room, doing their hair and makeup, zipping up their dresses, and handing me flutes of champagne.
“You must relax the nerves!” my cousin, Marlin, knowingly announces.
“Right.” I chuckle, pretending to take a sip. “Just don’t let me follow the example you gave on your wedding night.”
We all laugh, remembering how nervous she was at the beginning and how drunk she became in a few hours.
Finally satisfied with my appearance, I stand in front of my full-length mirror and slightly turn around, checking my stomach to see if my pregnancy is showing.
“No,” my other cousin, Betty, rolls her eyes, “you don’t look fat.”
“Yeah?” I turn to her, unsure.
“You look glamorous.” My mom approaches with a grin from ear to ear. “My beautiful baby.” She holds my hands, her lower lip trembling.
“Don’t cry!” I squeal, hurriedly pulling a napkin and handing it to her.
“Tears of joy never hurt anyone.” She dabs under her eyes, careful not to smudge her eyeliner.
“Oh, come on!” Marlin flails her arms in the air. “You’re going to be late.”
“Please.” Mom waves it off, tittering. “He’s going to have her for the rest of his life. Let me keep her a little longer.”
“Oh, my.” Betty rolls her eyes once again, standing up from the edge of the bed and walking over to Mom. “Come, come with me.”
As she pulls her out of the room, she winks at me and mouths, “Wine.”
We giggle, and Marlin grabs the hem of my dress and examines it, making sure it is neither dirty nor wrinkled.
“Are we good?” I nervously sigh.
“You,” she lovingly cradles my face with both her palms, “are a sight for sore eyes. Now, finish this, and let’s get you downstairs.”
She hands me the rest of my champagne and I shake my head in refusal.
“That’s okay, we need to go anyway.” She playfully claps her hands together. “Uncle’s waiting in the carriage.”
I take one last look at myself in the mirror, and she drags me out with a flood of encouraging words.
As tradition dictates, I ride to church with my father in a pony and trap, while everyone else follows us in the car driven by Marlin’s husband.
Throughout the entire ride, much to my surprise, I see nothing on Dad’s face that resembles delight or happiness for me. Instead, every time I glance at him, his expression is one of extreme consternation.
He is solemnly hanging down his head.
What is going on?
The grim air around him unavoidably diffuses into me, sending an ominous tremor down my spine. I can’t help the foreboding sense that gradually seeps through my head and into my chest.
Is this how I should be feeling on what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life?
Finally, I decide to interrupt the silence.
“Daddy?” I lean over, touching his hand. “You look troubled. What’s the matter?”
Slightly fidgeting in his seat, he turns away. “I wish I could say.”
“What does that mean?” I tilt my head, puzzled. “Is it that you don’t know or you won’t tell me?”
He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head once with a quick and hesitant look in my direction before looking back ahead.
“Dad, please. It’s my wedding day!”
Scoffing in dismay, he blinks then squeezes his eyelids shut for a second, reducing his lips into a thin line.
“Whatever it is, it cannot possibly ruin your daughter’s wedding for you…” I pause, revisiting my statement in dread. “Can it?”
“Honey, can we please not—”
“I don’t think so!” I raise my voice an octave, insisting. “In a little while, you should be walking me down the aisle. Are you gonna do it looking like that? Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?”
“Belle, I don’t—” He shakes his head once again, looking down at his polished shoes.
I lean over, lowering my voice. “Is this because I’m pregnant? Does it show?” My whisper is lined with a hint of embarrassment.
He quietly shakes his head.
“Then, just tell me.” I pressure him further. “I’m sure we can work