“Okay, so this woman approaches you…”
“Not exactly.”
“You approached her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was feeling great about the game. I wanted to celebrate.”
“Where was Dani?”
“She wasn’t at the game.”
“I’m confused, doesn’t she usually attend?”
“We had a fight.”
“What was the altercation about?”
Oscar remains silent.
“Oscar? I hope you can trust me. I’d like to think over the past few months we’ve developed a good relationship.”
Looking at the blank television in front of him, he responds, “That night we talked about a lot of stuff. And apparently, her missing her period or whatever means she wants to start a family. Now. Also, she was ovulating.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a conversation. That sounds very one sided.”
“I just want her to be happy.”
“And what about your happiness?”
“I…”
“I thought you wanted to be in control.”
“I messed up.”
“And do you think Dani might be taking advantage of that?”
Oscar considers the question and answers, “Maybe, but she’s not usually like that.”
Nancy delicately clears her throat and says, “I might be overstepping here, but is this the environment you want your future child conceived in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oscar, I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself or me here. What is it about parenthood that scares you so much?”
The young man looks away and mumbles, “What if I turn out like them?”
“Like who?” Nancy prods.
“My parents.”
“What is it about them you don’t want to do?”
“The disinterest, the lack of concern…”
“Do you think Dani would allow you to be that kind of father?”
“I don’t know. The whole thing is just another thing I’ll have no control over.”
Nancy smiles and says, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“What’s that?”
“Having kids is the best kind of ‘out of control’ there is.”
“How so?”
“Just to share an anecdote from my own life, I have a wonderful daughter who reminds me every day that I don’t have the control I would like. If I have somewhere I have to be, she’s lost a shoe. If we find the shoe, she’ll want to tie it herself. If I think she might be good at playing soccer, she’ll want to do ballet. If I think she should eat her peas, she’ll put up a fight. She’s stubborn and argumentative, but I love her entirely. Through her, I learn something new about myself all the time. Now, let’s get back to you, although we touched on it last session, am I correct to think this is not the first time you and Dani have spoken about starting a family?”
“No.”
“So her wanting to begin now should not be a total surprise?”
“I guess.”
“Do you have other fears? Aside from being like your parents, what else are you worried about?”
Oscar puts his head in his hands and says, “Other than the loosing control of my already hectic life, with my schedule, I don’t get to see Dani as much as I’d like. Once kids come along, it won’t be just us any more. I know I want her to be the mother of my children, just not any time soon. Quite honestly, I want to be selfish. We’re still young, we have plenty of time.”
“Have you shared these feelings with her?”
“Not exactly.”
“Given you admitted to choosing another woman’s company, let me remind you that you are making excuses again. If Dani is as important as you say she is, you would make time to be with her.”
“You’re just mad because I haven’t told her I’m in counseling,” Oscar counters.
“I’m not upset. I’m having a difficult time understanding why you haven’t spoken to her about our sessions. If your reason for coming to me in the first place was to increase your communication with your wife and gain back control in your life, I still don’t know why she isn’t aware of where you are right now.”
“Point taken, Doc.”
“And in regards to her wanting to start a family and you not communicating any real reasons why not, you can understand then, why she might be frustrated?”
“Yes.”
“As frustrated as you are with your home situation, you are aware that acting out by flirting with another woman is immature behavior, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did you need to see me to validate how you were acting? I realize some of your teammates may be able to justify their behavior, but we have been working to get you to a place more in control of your entire life – and that includes your emotions.”
“I know. So what should I do?”
“What do you think you should do?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Humor me.”
“You think I should tell Dani everything.”
“This isn’t about what I want. Oscar, you need to think about what you want and the consequences of those choices. Ultimately, it’s your life, not mine.”
Oscar remains silent.
“Did anything of an intimate nature happen with this young woman?”
“No.” He sighs and adds, “Not yet.”
“Which implies a date in the future in which something will happen?”
“I gave her my number.”
“Really?”
“I never give anyone my number.”
“You’re contradicting yourself.”
“I know.” Oscar puts his head in hands that can easily palm a regulation size basketball.
“If I asked you to come clean with your wife, would you consider it?”
“No.”
Nancy crosses her arms and says, “Then I don’t think I can help you.”
“What do you mean? What am I paying you for?”
“If our meetings are all some sort of band aid for your life, so you can feel better about your actions, I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“I’m trying.”
“How?”
“If you would’ve known me before…”
“Let’s go over the facts. You want to communicate and be a better husband to your wife, but you won’t tell her you’re in counseling. For the record, I would love to see the both of you together, to talk about your marriage and your future together. To date, we’ve been meeting since January, and while I think you are making progress about recognizing what you want in your life, you’ve not made decisions to reflect your attitude.” Nancy gathers her things and continues, “If you want to change your life, call me when you’re ready. I will not bill you for this session. Good luck with the rest of the series. I’m rooting for you, Oscar.”
Nancy walks out of the room, leaving the man in silence.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
June 6, 5:15 P.M.
“It looks the same, doesn’t it?”
Shaun tucks a loving hand around Chelsea’s swollen abdomen and says, “A little different.”
As the bellboy discreetly exits the room – twenty dollars richer, leaving the couple alone in the familiar space. Chelsea moves into the suite and puts down her purse, while Shaun opens a bottle of water and says, “If what Dr. Robinson said is true…”
“Then little Helen or Marc was conceived in this very space,” Chelsea finishes his sentence.
Shaun moves back to his wife and they cling to each other tightly. Since their visit to the hotel in January, the year has been on fast forward in their lives. Shaun’s promotion has kept him busy, and Chelsea, happy to find out the news that they had conceived has been nesting in every possible way. With her parents set to arrive within the month, and numerous baby showers between their
arrival, this is their last planned weekend alone before their progeny appears.
“Are you hungry?”
Chelsea, through her own determination, has managed to keep the ‘eating for two’ to a minimum. While she has put on some kilos, it is not as many as others in her ‘Moms to Be’ yoga group. Yes, there are stretch marks and her breasts have launched forward two cup sizes, but overall she feels that she has been healthy. However, this weekend is a special treat, so she concedes and says, “Go on then and be sure get something for yourself.”
“You sure you won’t be jealous?”
“Promise.”
She has recently been diagnosed with gestational diabetes and they were still working out how to keep her levels balanced, balance the extra appointments and get used to the morning ritual of blood sugar tests.
As Shaun finishes ordering, Chelsea asks, “It’s worth it, isn’t it?”
“What do you think?”
Chelsea puts a hand to her stomach and says, “I’m sure it will be.”
Shaun has been her rock, keeping her positive, rubbing her feet, attending pre-natal classes and getting caught up in daydreams about the future of their child. He read up as much as he could and had spent a small fortune at Whole Foods keeping their pantry and refrigerator stocked with healthy foods. As tired as she might be, he always made sure she would exercise. He had gone so far to inquire if she wanted specially prepared food to be delivered daily. She’s deathly afraid of needles and he’s stepped up for help give her the insulin injections.
She really couldn’t ask for more in a partner. Walking over to the bed, she sinks into the comforting blankets and is happy when Shaun joins her.
They lie contentedly and Chelsea comments, “I’m really lucky to have you.”
“I’m just doing what any bloke would do in this situation.”
“Not true. I just think you should know.”
“Is this a mood swing?”
“No.”
“You’ve had a few of those,” Shaun says lightly, hoping not to trigger another. There have been some knock down drag out shouting matches over what he felt were very minor transgressions. Still, if walking on eggshells for a few more months keeps his head on and his wife happy, he’ll keep quiet.
“And yet you haven’t left me.”
“For better or worse, love.”
Snuggling into his larger frame, she murmurs, “You’re the best.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
June 8, 3:30 P.M.
With Heidi the photographer cued and ready to capture the moment in the crowded room, Maria Delaney steps into her wedding dress, then shrieks. Her bridesmaids crowd around her, alarmed for their friend. Joanne, the maid of honor, asks, “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a rip…” The sad answer comes back through layers of petticoats and tulle.
Seven pairs of mascaraed and made up eyes look carefully over the silk and are shocked to see she is correct. Joanne springs into action, “First of all, does anyone have the skills needed to fix this dress?”
With the exception of Maria’s mother, who is already sniffling, the room remains quiet. Joanne looks at her friend’s worried face and says, “Maria, we’re going to fix this, I promise.” Continuing the triage, Joanne snaps her fingers at Laura and says in a low tone, “Take Maria into the bedroom and see if you can get her to calm down and get out of the dress.”
Saluting smartly, Laura answers, “I’m on it.”
With the bride moving, Joanne immediately rushes to the phone and calls the front desk. Trying to keep her voice calm, she says, “We have an emergency.”
Susie, pulling up information of who is staying in the room from the front desk, answers calmly, “What is the problem Ms. Delaney? Shall we call for a doctor or ambulance?”
“No, we do not need a doctor. We need a tailor, a seamstress – anyone who can fix a five thousand dollar wedding dress!” Joanne answers in exasperation.
“Can you give us a few minutes?”
“Yes, but please help! We’re on a deadline here!”
The phone rings a few minutes later and Joanne scrambles to pick the device up, answering breathlessly, “Hello? Please tell us you have someone coming over soon.”
“We sure do,” Susie says. “His name is Mario and he’ll be at your room in fifteen minutes. Please do not worry; he is the best of the best. He does onsite tailoring at one of the nearby luxury boutiques.”
“If you’re sure…”
“The Winchester knows how important a wedding day is and we’ll ensure Ms. Delaney’s dress is perfectly repaired.”
“Thank you,” Joanne hangs up the phone and announces, “Mario will be here soon. Apparently, he’s their go to tailor.”
In the bedroom, Maria, now sitting in a hotel robe, forces herself to breathe in and out slowly. Throughout the build up to the wedding, she has prided herself on not being a bridezilla, but this delay will throw the entire timeline of the day completely off. Holding herself together, Maria tries to remind herself that at the end of the day, she’ll be marrying her best friend and the love of her life. In twenty years, they’ll be telling their children of how Mommy’s wedding dress was ripped and how funny it was. Now, however, the Vera Wang she saved months for, and has dieted since her engagement to get into and has been dreaming about wearing, has a hole in it. She sits back and finishes her glass of champagne while Joanne and the other bridesmaids wrack their heads to come up with solutions to the delay. Perhaps emboldened by the liquid courage, she pulls the sash around her tightly and walks up to her friends. Putting her manicured hand on Jo’s shoulder, she delegates, “Can you let the guys know we’re going to be a little late for the first look?”
“On it!”
Maria’s mom tops off her glass of champagne and, patting her daughter’s hand, tells her everything will be okay.
“Are you sure?”
Maria’s mother, Estelle, answers, “Diego is the man you were meant to be with.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
Maria isn’t surprised when her phone, especially programmed today with ‘Here Comes the Bride’ ringtone, rings and she sees her fiancé’s face on the ID. Ducking into the bathroom, she hears a familiar voice ask, “Honey?” Unable to remain still, Maria walks through the chaos of the suite outside to the small porch and answers, “You didn’t have to call.”
“Of course I did.” Diego has been with his wife-to-be for two years and knows she is highly Type A. This change in her schedule will be completely messing with her sanity. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“I put my dress on…and it broke.”
“Aww, querida.” Diego tries unsuccessfully to smother a laugh.
“What is so funny?”
“You, my darling clumsy girl.”
“It’s not funny!”
“Of course not. Just like the time you didn’t throw the car keys away, or the time you didn’t drop your phone in the bathtub. And you know you don’t have the best track record with clothes, either.”
“Maybe I should’ve just worn a sack.”
“You will look beautiful no matter what.”
“You think I should walk down the aisle in this robe?”
“Is that all you’re wearing right now? Or do you have some of that special lingerie you haven’t let me see yet?”
“Only you would get horny in my most dire of bridal emergencies.”
“Can you blame me? I’m marrying the most gorgeous girl in Los Angeles today.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Okay, so, there’s something wrong with your dress?”
“But we’re going to fix it.”
“That’s great!”
“But the schedule is ruined.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sure we can make it work.”
Maria says nothing, as she is trying not to cry and avoid wrecking her professionally applied make up.
“Baby?”
“Yes?” There is a slight waver in her voice.
“You know it’s going to be fine, right?”
“But my dress…”
“Listen to me, I’m sure the Winchester is going to send the best person possible.”
“So, it’s going to be okay?”
“Of course it is. Today I’m going to marry the most amazing woman in the world. Nothing can change that.”
“I love you.”
“Te amo.”
As Maria hangs up the phone, the doorbell to the suite chimes and Joanne welcomes an older man, carrying what appears to be a tackle box. A measuring tape hangs gently around his neck. Wordlessly, the entire group follows him in to where the dress hangs on the door. He looks thoroughly over the garment, assessing the rip, the fabric and then says, “It can be saved.”
In response, the girls squeal in delight.
Within a very short time span, the delicate fabric is repaired and Maria steps ever so carefully into the dress. Everyone in the room holds their breath as she’s zipped in and the mended portion holds.
A collective cheer goes up around the room.
Maria breathes a deep sigh of relief and says, “Alright girls, grab your bouquets and let’s get going!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
June 9, 12:02 A.M.
With a giant smile on his face, Diego carries Maria into the room. They are both exhausted, but radiant.
“We’re married,” Diego announces.
“We are.”
“So, Mrs. Delgado, what do you want to do?”
Maria looks lovingly at her new husband, then says without hesitation, “Order room service and watch WWE.”
“I knew I married the right girl.”
He places her down gently on the ground and she begins removing some of the many pins from her intricate hair arrangement and asks, “You’re not mad? I have lingerie and everything, but I swear, if I have to stand up two seconds longer, my feet are going to cramp and I’ll never be able to walk again.”
He leads her over to the bed and says, “Say no more. I need you in prime shape for our honeymoon in Hawaii.”
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