“Not a clue,” she said with a shrug. “Who knew that, inside that tough exterior of his, there was a big sap?”
I chuckled. “Kind of reminds me of me.” The photographer came up closer to us and we smiled for some pictures. I turned back to mother, who I could tell was holding back tears. “What is it?”
“My little boy is all grown up,” she said. She planted a big, fat kiss on my cheek.
As our song ended, the DJ subtly changed over to something more upbeat. “C’mon everyone,” he yelled into the mic. “Let’s get you all on your feet!” Dancing of any kind was far out of my comfort zone, but I decided that I was the groom, and that meant that no one would care whether or not I had any actual dancing skill. Casey, on the other hand, was a pleasant surprise on the dance floor. She moved as if she forgot there was a watermelon-sized bump in her way. She shook, and shimmied, and did the cha-cha, and joined some of the older guests for some line dancing.
The rest of the reception was a giant blur of pleasantries, food, and more dancing. I lost count of how many guests came up to me and complimented our food choices, saying it was the best food they’d ever had at a wedding. They weren’t exaggerating. The homemade dressing on the venue’s house salad was to die for, and I could have eaten a tub full of the miniature crab cakes. They had a unique flavor I couldn’t quite place, definitely the hit of the party. Though I was interrupted for pictures and conversation at least half a dozen times during my main course, prime rib, I ate enough to know it was outstanding.
As the waiters cleared our dinner plates, I realized that Casey and I had never discussed what we were serving for dessert. I hoped that, in the rush of planning, she had considered something beyond simple wedding cake. I was convinced everyone in the Preston family was born with a sweet tooth. Dessert was our happy place.
I turned toward Casey at our table for two. “Case, what did we decide on for dessert?” I asked. “Please tell me it’s not just cake. You know my family.”
Casey’s lips turned up a playful grin. “You’ll find out in a bit.”
My answer came in the form of a long table filled with sweets. As soon as the emcee announced that dessert was being served, I hopped right in line along with our guests. The lavender tablecloth was barely visible under the trays and trays of cookies, pies, cheesecakes, and cupcakes.
I went down the line and picked out a few desserts for me to try, and a few to bring back to the table for Casey. I decided on blueberry cheesecake and a cupcake for myself, and, for my lady, a slice of apple pie and two white chocolate macadamia cookies, her favorite.
“Yum,” Casey said as she bit into one of the cookies.
I put my hand on top of hers. “Everything is perfect, Casey,” I said. I changed my tone. “Especially this cheesecake.”
Casey looked up from the plate. “You know, I specially requested that they put out full-sized plates at the dessert table. I didn’t want any of those dinky dessert plates that only fit, like, half a piece of something.”
I knew I had picked a good wife.
Chapter 33
Casey
Alexander took my hand and helped me get my pregnant body into the limousine. The words “Just Married” were written in white window marker on the back window, and it was starting to hit me that this was all real life. I felt like a giant, fluffy marshmallow, tucked into my wedding dress with my bump inconveniently placed. We finally settled in, and the driver revved up the car. Like something out of a magazine or movie, all of our guests waved goodbye as we pulled away from the venue and drove off toward our happily ever after.
Ok, so we weren’t exactly going on our honeymoon. That would have to wait until after the baby came. But we’d decided that we still wanted to do something special for our wedding night, so Alexander had gotten us a suite at a nearby hotel and spa. He’d even surprised me earlier in the day by telling me he’d booked me a prenatal massage for the following morning.
For the first time since we’d said “I do”, I got a good look at Alexander. He was handsome and hunky in his black tuxedo, and he looked to be as smitten and happy as I was. “We did it,” I said to him, squeezing his thigh.
“Oh, yes we did, Mrs. Preston,” Alexander smiled.
This all still felt like a dream, one that I never wanted to wake up from. Although I’d never imagined getting married at nearly nine months pregnant, the wedding was everything I could have ever hoped for. It was intimate but exciting, low key but personal. The centerpieces I had put together with Liana looked better than we had expected, and had both admitted to one another at the reception how impressed we were with how’d they turned out.
The wedding was over. I didn’t know how all these brides who had planned for months and years did it. I had only been planning for a month, and it was still so hard to say goodbye to all of the tours and cake tastings and invitations and music samplings. We were onto our next adventure, the nearing arrival of our baby girl.
“What do you think of Aruba?” Alexander asked.
“Huh?” I said, without taking the time to come up with a better response.
Alexander cleared his through. “For our honeymoon.”
I honestly hadn’t given much thought to our honeymoon, as I knew it would be months before we’d even consider booking our trip. My reality was pretty amazing as it was, so a trip to somewhere far away wasn’t a priority. Nonetheless, I indulged Alexander. “Aruba might be nice,” I said.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” he replied. “The beaches are magical.”
“You’ve been there before?”
“Twice. Once with my family, and once with some buddies after graduation.” It felt somewhat silly to be discussing our honeymoon while I was in my wedding dress, but it was exciting to think about going somewhere tropical or adventure-ridden with the man I loved. I told him that, before we shot off more ideas, it had to be a place that neither of us had ever been to before.
That was easy for me, as I’d never been out of the country and hadn’t even seen the western half of the United States. Alexander, however, turned out to be quite the world traveler. “The things you learn about someone once you get married,” I joked. He told me that he had been to ten countries or islands outside of the United States, and I watched in amazement as he tried to name them all.
“Let’s see,” he said. “I already mentioned Aruba. Then there was my study abroad in England, my family trip to Turks and Caicos, and my cousin’s wedding in the Bahamas. That’s four. When I was in London, I also took trips to France, Ireland, and Scotland. That makes seven.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get the gist.” I grinned at him to make sure he knew I was joking. Back when my friends in high school and college had talked about all the places they had traveled and vacations they had taken, I had gotten extremely jealous. I’d be naïve to not have realized that they learned to tiptoe around me when they talked about anything exciting or expensive. It was hard to hear about things I worried I’d never experience, experiences I would never have with a nonexistent family. With Alexander, there wasn’t any envy. I felt at ease. I was excited at the prospect of learning about the world through the eyes of someone who had traveled so much of it.
“I’m determined to figure this out,” Alexander said. I pulled his head toward mine and planted a kiss on his lips as he thought. “Thanks for the kiss, wifey.” The emphasis he put on the word sent my heart fluttering.
“Have you been to Greece?” I asked, both because I was hoping to jog his memory, and because I’d always dreamt of going to Greece.
Alexander shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s on my bucket list.”
“Mine too,” I said with a smile. “It just seems like such a beautiful country.”
“Ah, I remember now,” Alexander exclaimed, raising his hand to signal victory. “My family took a cruise in South America when I was in college. We hit Brazil, Peru, and Chile.” I listened in amazement as I envisioned twenty-year-old Alexander parading around Lima wit
h his teenaged siblings. “In hindsight, my parents wasted their money. All four of us kids were too focused on getting drunk and hitting the clubs.”
“I’ll remember not to make the same mistake with our little one,” I chuckled, cradling my belly.
“So, Greece?” Alexander said.
I grinned. “Greece.”
Alexander loosened his bowtie. “Any other bucket list destinations I should keep in mind?”
“So many!” I chirped.
“Lay them on me,” he said. “You know, for honeymoon and future anniversary possibilities.”
Thinking about years of anniversaries to come made my heart break into a tizzy. Alexander was perfect. Back to the question at hand, I thought long and hard. “Well, I’ve always wanted to see Venice. And Tahiti. In the country, I’ve always dreamt of visiting the Grand Canyon or going skiing in Lake Tahoe.”
“You ski?” Alexander asked, visibly surprised.
“Not in the slightest,” I giggled. “But I would in Lake Tahoe. It’s just one of those random things I’ve dreamt of doing. Oh! And I forgot Fiji! I’d like to get to Fiji someday.”
Alexander shifted in his seat to face me at a more direct angle. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?”
Without missing a beat, I said, “Eleven.”
“Good,” Alexander said. “Because, when the time comes, I’m going to surprise you with our honeymoon destination.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Preston,” the limousine driver started. “We’re here.”
Alexander stepped out of his side first, and came around to help me out of the limo. It was sweet to see him come to help me when he just as easily could have let the driver do his job. I couldn’t say I was surprised, though. Alexander was a true gentleman. I made a mental note to thank Lynn—for probably the fifth time—for raising such a wonderful man.
I’d heard about this hotel in magazines and through the occasional waiting room gossip at the clinic, but I didn’t have a clue what to expect beyond an “exquisite lobby area,” as one of the local magazines had put it. I let Alexander carry the suitcase as I followed behind with my toiletry bag in tow.
“Oh m-my,” I stuttered, dropping the bag on the linoleum floors beneath me.
“Casey,” Alexander exclaimed. “Is everything alright?”
I realized that my surprised reaction could easily have been mistaken for some sort of injury or pregnancy complication, so I quickly assured Alexander that I was fine. “I’ve just never seen anything quite so magical,” I said.
The open space around us was more than a lobby. It was a tropical oasis, complete with meticulously painted murals and real, functioning waterfalls and koi ponds. The few pictures I had seen didn’t even begin to do this hotel justice. I thought back to just a couple of months earlier, when I’d thought the Sheraton was the most beautiful hotel to exist. I had to chuckle when I compared it to this.
A grand staircase was the center focus of the large room, with elegant wooden steps and carved railings. I picked up my bag and slowly took it all in as Alexander checked us into our room. The etchings in the railings were even more exquisite up close. I traced my pointer finger along the bottom rail and tried to figure out what the designs were meant to be. Some were clearly just geometric patterns, while some looked more like symbols or hieroglyphics.
“I guess you like it here, huh?” Alexander asked, joining me by the staircase.
The only way I could think to respond was with a quote from one of my favorite movies. “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Alexander laughed. “Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Preston.”
Chapter 34
Alexander
“Oh boy.” Casey moaned with relief as I rubbed her swollen feet. I knew heels were a bad idea, but it was what she had wanted for our big day. What kind of husband would I be if I had denied her what she wanted? Casey had her wedding dress pulled up over her knees as I dug my fingers deeper into her foot tissue. I silently chuckled at the silliness of it all and focused on the task at hand. As I tried to offer her some sort of relief, I looked around the hotel room. Who would’ve thought that I’d be sitting here, massaging my new wife, staying overnight in a honeymoon suite in the same town I lived in? Boy, had life changed.
“Babe,” Casey said, her voice shaking.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Was I pressing too hard?” I was too far into my own thoughts—and too high on cloud nine—to even look at Casey as I answered.
“Alexander,” she nudged.
I looked up at Casey in the bed from my spot on the ottoman and saw a small puddle gathering by her inner thighs. I gulped. “Is that…uh…?” I jumped from the ottoman, throwing Casey’s foot back at her, without finishing my sentence.
“My water just broke,” Casey said. Tears began falling from her eyes as she shook her head, as if to say, “No.”
“That’s great,” I replied, gathering the few things we had unpacked and putting our suitcase by the door. “Why are you upset?”
Casey wiped her tears on the back of her hand. “I just wanted us to enjoy our wedding night together.”
“We will,” I said. “With our baby.” I wasn’t sure if it was the words I’d said, or if the realization that she would soon be delivering our child was finally hitting her, but Casey sprung to her feet with newfound determination.
Once it occurred to me that we had left my car at the venue in favor of taking the limousine, I called the driver, who I’d decided couldn’t have gotten far in the fifteen minutes since we’d left him. I told him we needed a ride to the hospital immediately. When that wasn’t alluring enough for him, I offered to double his hourly rate if he would just come back right away. That seemed to do the trick.
I tried my best to keep Casey calm as she complained that the baby wasn’t supposed to arrive for another week or two. In my own mind, I knew that words wouldn’t change a thing, but I let Casey vent as I held her in my arms.
“Any contractions yet?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Casey said, whimpering. Now was probably not the time to tell her that, according to the first-time parent books I’d been reading, she would most certainly know if she was having a contraction.
The limousine driver called and told me he was downstairs and ready for us. I took our suitcase in one hand and took towels from the hotel room in the other. I figured I could put them under Casey, just in case. I wasn’t exactly sure how this whole water breaking thing went. No one talked about the not-so-pleasant stuff that came in between the water breaking and the baby being born.
The hospital was 4.2 miles away, but it felt like a lifetime. I had been so wrapped up in caring for Casey in the hotel room that it hadn’t quite hit me until we were sitting in the car that I would be meeting my baby in a matter of hours. We’d just gotten married, and it was time to start our life as a family. Casey fidgeted in her seat for the entire ten minutes and 16 seconds of the car ride, and I tried my best to crack jokes and ask questions to take her mind off the pain she must have been feeling.
Casey saw right through me, which was clear when she told me that she appreciated my efforts but that she just wanted to focus on getting to the hospital. As soon as the limousine stopped, Casey and I sprinted into the emergency room. Well, we sprinted as fast as a woman in labor could. I told the first person in medical scrubs I could find that my wife was in labor—basking in the glory of being able to say wife—and they led her into a wheelchair. Apparently, in the world of the maternity ward, having had your water already break is like a fast pass at Disney World. Within minutes, we were taken back into a room, leaving behind at least three or four other women who looked like they were about to pop.
After what seemed like an eternity, Casey was finally comfortably resting in a hospital bed. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Miss Donohue,” a nurse said, emerging from behind the worn-down curtain. She took one look at Casey’s
wedding dress, still as beautiful as ever with the exception of a few wet marks, and corrected herself. “Or is it Mrs.?”
“Mrs. Preston,” Casey said, a smile emerging onto her face for the first time since we’d gotten back into the limo.
The nurse chuckled. “I hope you at least got to say your vows.”
“Made it all the way to our hotel, actually,” I joked, introducing myself.
“I’m Tina, your nurse” the nurse said. “We’re going to take good care of your wife and baby here.” Her tone shifted, and I braced myself for whatever she was about to say. Surely nothing could be going wrong already. “I do have to tell you both that Dr. Ellis is unfortunately out of the country until Wednesday, so we’ll have to bring in another doctor to assist with the delivery.”
I looked at Casey to see how the news sat with her. Neither of us had any strong feelings for or against Dr. Ellis, but I had a feeling that, at this emotional moment, it would absolutely matter to Casey. I was right. She immediately burst into tears. I motioned to the nurse to give us a moment alone, and I moved from the uncomfortable guest chair in which I’d been sitting and made my way onto the end of the bed.
“It’s ok, Case,” I said. “Take a deep breath.” Casey obliged, and her red face slowly began fading to more of a pink color. “All of these doctors know what they’re doing. The only thing that matters is that we’re going to meet our little girl soon.”
That seemed to calm Casey down, at least for now. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbled. “And Dr. Ellis is visiting his new grandchild in Wisconsin. He told me so at my last appointment. I should be happy for him.”
Casey’s calmness lasted until a contraction sent her into a fit of pain. Even though I knew that Casey knew this was part of the deal when she’d decided to have a baby, I wished there was something I could do to take the pain away. A nurse came in and gave Casey a hospital gown to change into. I helped her take off her wedding dress as cautiously as I could with the adrenaline rushing through my veins. As she stood there, naked, waiting for me to hand her the hospital gown, I thought back to our earlier tryst and felt myself longing to do more than cover up Casey’s flawless body. Just the same, I watched Casey slip on the robe and helped her back onto the bed.
Her Baby Donor: He's doing her the old-fashioned way. Page 19
