A Little More Than Convenient

|Trent Remington|
Okay, so I lied. I was not ready to be a dad. I was not ready to raise anyone. I was pretty sure that I would screw the kid up.
The next few weeks went by fairly quickly. We went to work, worked, and came home. But on weekends, we usually did stuff we either Ross and Jessica or our families. There weren’t any signs of Christian, which made Carmen really happy, or Lana, which made me really happy.
Our (well, Carmen’s) first doctor’s appointment was the Monday after Black Friday. Someone had just cancelled a nine o’clock appointment, so we snatched it up. Dr. Gaidry declared that everything was going just fine, but she prescribed prenatal vitamins and fish oil pills. We were able to make it to work at around ten-thirty, so we didn’t miss too much. The only bad thing was that the pills and the vitamins upset her stomach. As if the morning sickness weren’t bad enough.
I could tell that my colleagues weren’t very happy with my hiring my wife, even though there truly wasn’t anything between us. Besides the baby, of course. In fact, I was awaiting accusations of nepotism, but no one ever stepped forward. Even if they had, I don’t think that Mr. Bening would have said anything. He was still concerned about Evangeline and her pregnancy.
Carmen spent most of her time working on the company Christmas party, which was set for the tenth of December. It was awfully early, but the fourteenth and fifteenth were Tara and Lizzie’s weddings, and of course, the twenty-fourth was Christmas Eve. And since Carmen was the one planning it, she got to choose the date. No way was she missing the weddings. We knew better.
Another thing Carmen had been doing a lot was writing. Every time she got a free moment, she was writing in a brown leather book that said private in bold letters. I did ask her what she was writing, but she wouldn’t tell me. “It’s a secret,” she said, smiling.
The company Christmas party, at first, went fairly smoothly. Carmen had it planned to a T: the location, the music, the booze. She, of course, did not drink any alcohol. Instead, she drank sparkling cider. She was only about two months pregnant, but you could still see her stomach protruding a little through her red evening gown.
For the first ten minutes after our arrival we stayed beside the refreshment table. She was embarrassed because her dress was tighter than when she bought it. I kept telling her that she looked fine, but she wouldn’t listen to me. When people walked by, we made small talk and not much else. That was how I preferred it, however.
Then, Kevin Brooks, my colleague came up to me. It’s pretty safe to say that hated me. He had also been up for the promotion, but I had beat him out. The guy was down on his luck. His wife left him for a much younger woman, and his kids weren’t too keen on talking to him. Simply put, he was bitter.
“Hi Kevin,” I tried to be polite.
“Trent,” he nodded, “this your wife?”
I nodded yes.
“The famous Carmen,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Everyone at the bank’s been talking about her. She’s a bit of a celebrity,” he replied, his expression still deadpan.
“But why?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t ask me. It ain’t none of my business.” He trekked off.
“Wait!” I headed after him.
“It’s okay, Trent,” Carmen said, touching my arm. “He just used a double negative.”
I spent almost the entire night asking everyone why Carmen was so famous. Mr. Bening didn’t know, Mandy wouldn’t say, Kevin completely ignored me, and everyone else muttered something about being late for dinner. And the, the party was basically over.
We attended Lizzie and Tara’s weddings the following week. Lizzie’s went off without a hitch. Carmen was the matron (not maid) of honor, and sweated almost the entire time, probably because her dress was fitting a little too snugly, which totally baffled her mother and Lizzie. She’d yet to tell them that she was pregnant, afraid that they would react the same way as Tara. My parents didn’t know either. I forced her to keep it a secret.
Carmen was escorted down the aisle with a big, burly guy, one of Stephen’s brother. She smiled sheepishly, mainly at me during the entire ceremony. She spent ebomost of the reception sitting down.
I wish that I could say that Tara’s wedding went that well, but it didn’t. First of all, she decided to hold the wedding outside in the wintertime. So, guess what? It snowed. The roads were cleared, but it was too slushy and cold to have the wedding outdoors, so we were forced to have it at the Methodist Church. Luckily, my grandmother came through and got all of her friends to quickly decorate the place. Therefore, the wedding was held back about three hours. And as if that weren’t enough, Tara’s friend Laura dropped out of being a bridesmaid. Evidently, Tara WAS stupid enough to decide to shoot her mouth off about Laura’s boyfriend straight to her face. She started to bawl.
“What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” she shrieked.
My mother tried to get her to calm down, but it was a lost cause.
She sniffed and mascara ran down her cheeks. “Wh-where am I supposed to find another freaking bridesmaid? Like right now?!”
I shrugged.
Mom looked straight at me.
“Trent, do you think that Carmen-”
“Carmen!” Tara exclaimed, “Go get her!”
“What if the dress doesn’t fit her?” I asked.
“I figure it will, Trent,” Mom said, looking confused.
I nodded and went to find her. She was sitting primly in a pew of the church by herself.
“Carmen,” I began, “I know you’re probably not going to want to do this, but Tara wanted me to ask. Just know that you don’t have to. I know you’re not-”
“Trent! Just spit it out!” she interjected.
“S-sorry,” I replied. I cleared my throat. “Well, see...Tara kind of screwed up in the bridesmaid department.”
“Let me guess,” she said, “she needs another one, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She chuckled. “Okay, but will I fit in the dress?”
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
The dress was a little snug, but it zipped, or that was Carmen told me earlier. I escorted her down the aisle, since I was one of the groomsmen. It occurred to me that although we were married, we hadn’t technically walked down the aisle. Until now, that was.
The remainder of the ceremony went good, therefore, I figured that the reception would be smooth sailing. Boy, was I wrong.
Mark’s ex-girlfriend, Tiffany, was a server. She saw the wedding as an opportunity to get Mark back, not only by continuously flirting with him and spilling a glass of champagne on Tara’s dress. That did not end well.
“You stupid bitch!” Tara exploded at her.
Everyone in the room’s heads turned toward her.
Tiffany laughed hysterically. I was starting to wonder if she was a clear descendant of the Joker.
Tara wasn’t amused. “You think this is funny?! Do you know how much I-I paid for this?! Give it up! I’m marrying Mark! He dumped you years ago! Get a freaking life!”
Tiffany looked stunned, but then attempted to hide it. “Well, at least I’m still in shape.”
I raised my eyebrows. It was true that Tara had gained a little weight when she got pregnant with Joel, but it was nothing to speak about.
Tara’s jaw dropped and she glared at the waitress. Then without missing a beat, she snatched a champagne flute off of Tiffany’s tray and threw it right in her face.
Carmen told me later that she’d expected Tiffany to scream bloody murder, and honestly, so did I.That’s not what happened, however. Tiffany smiled sweetly and slapped Tara across the face.
Tara flipped out. She screeched something incomprehensible and jumped on the waitress, as if she were trying to squish a bug. Mark sat frozen. Mom looked on horrified. Dad laughed. Carmen and I were frozen, too. Joel started to cry. The only one that did anything was Tristan, who threw his napkin onto his plate, jumped out of his seat, and yanked Tara off of Tiffany. Tiffany was bawling, which didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was that Tara was smiling, obviously very proud of herself. I would have put money on her being completely pissed and ready to bite anything that crossed her path. But...no. She was in an incredibly good mood.
Needless to say, the rest of the reception was uneventful.
Christmas came and I bought Carmen a Kindle Fire, because she had mentioned how much she liked to read. She was surprised that I bought her anything, even though she too had gotten me a present: an iPad. When I told her that she had spent too much on me, she sheepishly replied, “It was the least that I could do.” It was a great gift for me. It makes my life a lot easier, not having to lug around a laptop all the time. Carmen really liked my present to her, too. She read The Help in three days and then made me watch the movie with her.
On Christmas Eve, we watched movies with Ross and Jessica, and then went to church at Jessica and Ross’s church because we couldn’t decide between the Baptist and Methodist. They are both Presbyterian, but not very active ones. We spent Christmas morning at the apartment, the afternoon at my parents,’ and the evening at her parents.’ It was one of the most hectic, but best Christmases I had ever had.
We went to a New Year’s Eve Party at Lizzie and Stephen’s new house. It was more of a housewarming party, but toward the end of the night, it got more New Year’s Eve-ish. By this time, Carmen and I had become experts at acting like newlyweds expecting their first baby. Yes, we had told our families. We told them the day after Mark and Tara’s wedding.
My parents were thrilled, as was Carmen’s mother. But her dad, not so much. He glared at me throughout the entire conversation and asked over and over why we didn’t wait.
Carmen tried to explain. “It wasn’t planned, Daddy. But what are we supposed to do, put the baby up for adoption? I’m not seventeen.”
Kira tried to help. “Darren, they are married. Married couples have children.”
He grumbled, but accepted it. At least, I think he did.
At midnight on New Year’s Eve, or I guess it was really New Year’s Day, Carmen and I kissed. It wasn’t planned, just like her pregnancy. It just kind of...happened. We didn’t discuss it, we just let it have been and agreed to forget about it.
On New Year’s Day, Ross came over and we watched football while Jessica and Carmen went to a huge, as they called it, sale at Dilliard’s. Apparently everything was half off, and Carmen wanted to find baby stuff. Jessica just wanted new boots and cardigans.
It was that day that Ross told me that he was planning on proposing to Jessica. I was considerably shocked, but not as shocked as I would have been a few months ago. Ross was kind of drifter, and didn’t seem like the marrying type. But he truly loved Jessica, so I told him to go for it. No way could she say no.
And I was right.