Eyes Wide Open (The Blackstone Affair #3)(48)
Author: Raine Miller

“I don’t know and don’t start, please. All the guests know I’m pregnant so it’s not like we’re trying to hide the fact. Trust me, I’ve heard all about it from my mother already. Like she thinks pretending we aren’t having a baby will be more respectable somehow. Ugh, I loathe the drama she creates. Why can’t she just be happy for me? She’s going to have a grandchild, for Christ’s sake!”

Gaby placed a hand on my shoulder. “Bump or no bump, you’ll be beautiful, and your mom will just have to get over it. We’ll wow her with such a gorgeous wedding and you such a lovely bride, she won’t have a choice but to love the whole thing.”

They were sweet for telling me so, but I didn’t have high hopes about turning my mom around. She didn’t want to hear about Ethan and our relationship. She had actually had the gall to tell me I was throwing my life away on Ethan and our baby. She asked what the last four years was for if all I was going to do was get pregnant again. That hurt. She really thought so little of me. The first time was not my fault, and this time . . . well, I didn’t intend to get pregnant. I know Ethan and I acted irresponsibly, but I wouldn’t regret this outcome. I couldn’t regret it. I touched my belly and rubbed over the area back and forth. Conceiving our baby had been done in love no matter what my mom said, or what I thought of myself. That much I knew was true. I loved Ethan and he loved me. There was no other choice I could make, whether my mom understood the concept or not; there was no other choice in this world for me.

“Thanks, you guys. Really . . . I don’t know how I’d pull this together without you two in such a short time,” I said with a sigh. “Even Elaina and Hannah are hard at work. I hope we can actually pull this off.”

“As if we couldn’t,” Ben scoffed. “You’d have to hold me at gunpoint to keep me away from helping you with this posh, A-list celebrity, country-manor wedding that Her Majesty has been invited to!”

“Yeah, well, let’s pray she doesn’t come. Thank God for Elaina turning me on to that little wedding planner—Victoria something. I’ve been assured she will take care of anything having to do with queens and princes. I wouldn’t know the first thing about the protocol involved with having royalty at one’s wedding.” I looked at Ben and Gaby and threw my hands up in the air and swallowed hard as the realization hit me. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Nope. No more sick, my darling girl,” Ben said determinedly, hanging his long arm over my shoulders. “We’re going to sit down for a nice lunch and get fortified first, then it’s back to work finding the perfect dress for your posh country celebrity wedding. Which is happening in seven short weeks.” Ben looked upward and crossed himself. “We can do this.”

 I couldn’t resist texting Ethan over lunch. He seemed to enjoy our banter and usually replied if he wasn’t in a meeting, and sometimes even when he was. Naughty texts too. I grinned as I typed: I might hav to go naked 2 marry u. No dress luck yet. Havin lunch now ? ♥ U

I didn’t have long to wait before my phone vibrated.

No baby. U have it wrong. OK 2 B Naked for honeymoon ONLY! Dress essential 4 wedding.

xx

I laughed out loud and gained the unwanted attention of my friends. I tried to cover my mistake by delving into my salad. Didn’t have a chance of working, though.

“Sexting again?” Ben asked with a smirk.

“Sorry. It happens spontaneously.” I tilted my head and shrugged. “Blame the hormones?” It was worth a shot to use the hormones at least once in my defense.

“Gotcha, darling,” Ben said with a grin, his nosey radar on full alert. I swear he could charm a nun out of her panties if he wanted to. Some scary shit, the way he figured things out.

“They just have to look at each other and the people in the room could spontaneously combust by merely watching them.” Gaby’s voice was laced with sarcasm again as she took a big swig of her wine.

I pouted that I couldn’t join her in a glass, deciding it was okay to be insanely jealous of her right now. “Don’t be a bitch, Gab, you’re already pushing it by teasing me with wine. I can’t help it if Ethan gets me to spontaneously combust.”

Gaby laughed and refilled her glass of Chardonnay. “It’s no surprise Ethan got you pregnant. I imagine it was hard for the two of you to take in enough food and drink to keep yourselves going in the early days. All you did was have at it like rabbits.”

I gave her my best stone face. It lasted all of ten seconds before I started giggling. “It really, really was.”

We were goofing around, being idiots when my phone went off. Mom? At this hour? She never called me at her mornings.

“Shit! It’s my mom calling. Do you think she could sense me talking smack about her?” I decided to let it go to voice mail.

“The theme music from Psycho is the ringtone for your mother?” Gaby asked, her French fry stopped in midair.

I shrugged. “Ethan put it on there for me.” Uncomfortable silence. “He’s always playing around with apps and gadgets.” The silence grew steadily louder. “I mean, if the shoe fits . . .” I valiantly tried to latch on to something light and amusing.

Benny saved me when he started laughing and it became contagious. Hell, if I had to put up with this sucky animosity from my mother, I might as well try to find the little humor there was to be had. Ben had met her and lived to talk about it. My mom tolerated him, but she loved Gabrielle, so I’m sure Gaby thought I was being a tad harsh. I wasn’t. Ben could attest to the fact.

A minute later, my phone signaled a new voice mail, which was no surprise. My mom left voice mails all the time. She knew I screened her calls, and it just pissed her off more than she already was with me. I suddenly felt tired. It was exhausting keeping up this battle between us. I just wished for peace. It would kill me if I had such a tortured relationship with my daughter, or even my son down the road.

Sipping my lemonade, I ruminated for a bit, content to listen to Gaby and Ben chatter about different styles of veils and the pros and cons of white vs. cream for the knocked-up bride. Until the guilt started to creep in.

What did that say about how I was handling the situation? What if someday my daughter didn’t want to talk to me? Couldn’t stand to be around me? Thought I was a hypocritical bitch?

I’d be crushed.

I picked up my phone and hit voice mail.