Something in the Water

Four years later....

Mom and Sara both struggle to pin the veil in my hair with shaky fingers. I sit in the wooden chair and gaze into the backyard out the window. A gorgeous aisle awaits me in the grass, and the flowered arch at the end marks the place where I will meet my new husband.

The thought alone makes me quiver in delight.

The guests have already begun arriving, taking their respected seats in the yard. I keep watching closely to be sure I don't miss them, the guests I'm anxiously awaiting.

"I think that will stay." Mom drops her hands away from my updo. "We'll check again right before you walk down the aisle." She's flustered, trying to get me ready and enjoy that moment while making sure all of the other arrangements are followed through. She leaves my side for a moment and hurries downstairs to check on things.

"It'll stay, definitely." Sara pats my hair into place. "God, I'm so jealous of you right now."

I'm not really paying attention, my eyes locked on the rows of chairs filling up in the yard.

Sara comes to stand beside me. "You know, as soon as we moved in here, I knew this is where you should get married."

I shoot Sara a brief look of affection before I continue watching the guests like a hawk.

She eventually understands my purpose. "Do you see them yet?"

"No." I say, disappointed. "What if they don't come? I don't know if they would travel this far for one night."

"They'll be here." She looks down at her fingernails for a while, and then snaps her head up again. "Did you tell Ben yet?"

"No," I say again. "I don't even know why I told you."

"Because I'm your best friend, and you cannot hide something like that from me." She's so smug. "When are you going to tell him?"

"I was thinking tonight, after the wedding." I play with the two rings on my fingers, both meaning the same promise. One is just a bit more fancy. "Do you think so?"

Sara shrugs one shoulder, scrunching her nose up a bit. "I think it'll kill the mood."

I raise an eyebrow. "The mood?"

"Yeah, the mood that sets in on your wedding night, after the crazy reception and a long day, when you're all alone? You know, the mood!"

I laugh a bit. "I thought it would kickstart the mood, if anything."

Sara splutters in her laughter. "Emma, telling a man you're pregnant does not kickstart the mood."

"Shh!" I cover my hand over her mouth. "Don't say it out loud!" I panic, but I can't wait to tell everyone. The Evaluation Center authorized Ben and I to get pregnant whenever we were ready after we turned twenty, as long as we were married beforehand.

Sara told me to lie and say we got pregnant on our wedding night. I've been pregnant for a little over two weeks, but I feel entitled to fudge the truth a bit.

Mom pokes her head back in the door. "Emma, you have five minutes before you have to be downstairs."

I feel a pit in my stomach, but I nod anyway. I look across the room in the full length mirror. The reflection is of a young woman in an amazing white dress that hugs her curves and flows gracefully over the ground. The veil drapes magically over her shoulders. She stands tall and strong, though she's struggled to get up off her knees in the past few years.

I look to my left and see my best friend, the lovely and bubbly blonde that has put up with me over the years. She's recently cut her hair short, above her shoulders, and I don't think she'll ever let it grow long again. It suits her nicely.

When I stand at the end of the aisle, my hand curled around my father's elbow, I see the love of my life at the end. His best friend stands beside him, leaning over and whispering in his ear. We say our vows, secretly thinking how obvious they all sound, and finally kiss to our future. In no more than fifteen minutes, the love of my life becomes my husband. It isn't something that surprises me. More like the icing on the cake.

Speaking of cake, the reception occurs ten feet away from the wedding. Large, white tents cover the dance floor and tables, all dripping with strings of lights as the sun goes down. It's a party, but I'm not in the mood for celebrating. I scan the crowd with my spastic eyes, eagerly searching but completely dreading a discovery.

Ben waits until we're halfway through our first dance to say something. "Have you seen them yet?" He whispers near my left ear.

I shake my head on his shoulder. "I'm afraid to look too hard."

I feel his chin brush my earlobe. "Mrs. Fletcher is afraid?"

I smile big at the sound of my new name. "Aren't you?"

He doesn't answer, so I know that's a yes. I nestle my head in the crease of his neck and close my eyes, allowing the soft music and slow steps to send me into a sort of stupor. The song is still playing when I open my eyes again, right on a couple standing in the ring of people surrounding the dance floor.

I lift my head at the sight, wondering if it's just my imagination. The man with watermelon arms produces a small wave, while the young woman beside him smiles her kind smile. I see a pair of tiny white sandals dancing behind Rick's legs, and I drop my arms away from Ben.

He lets my arms slide through his wrists before he sees them, the people we've been looking for. They're actually here, with their daughter. My daughter.

Both Hilary and Rick notice my curiosity. I start a slow walk towards them, forgetting everyone and everything around me. The music still plays, but we've stopped dancing. Everyone watches, but I don't care.

Rick swings his arm around with the little girl attached to it. I see her poofy purple dress and drop down to the floor, my dress spreading out in an even circle around me. I sit on my knees and watch the little girl like she isn't human, like she's an angel from heaven.

Rick bends down to her level, pointing at me. Her pretty brown eyes meet mine for the first time, and she leans closer to Rick in shyness. I don't know where Ben is. He's probably still standing like a fool in the middle of the dancefloor, while his wife ruins her wedding dress as she sits on the ground.

Hilary takes hold of the girl's wrist and walks with her to meet me. She squats when she gets close enough, and stands the girl infront of her.

"Can you say hi?" I hear Hilary say. The little girl stares at me blankly, seeing the wide grin on my face. She probably thinks I'm crazy.

I try and initiate it. "Hi, sweetie." I say, breathless. "My name's Emma, too."

This sparks her attention, and little Emma steps forward. She smiles a bit, playing with the hem of her dress. "Hi." She says in the smallest of voices.

"Hi." I say again, with a giggle on the end. "Your dress is very pretty."

Little Emma twists back and forth, allowing the dress to sway. Hilary reminds her to say thank you, and she does.

Ben finally manages to crawl up beside me on his knees as well. It's then that I notice how closely she resembles him, with her curly brown hair and lovely eyes. He seems speechless, staring at her. It starts to scare her, and instead of backing up into Hilary, she grabs a handful of my dress, seeking comfort.

"This is Ben." I introduce, after I recover.

Ben lifts his hand and waves at her. She smiles her shy little smile again. I question in my head if it was right to give her away. We could have gotten her back two years ago, and she could be ours. She should be ours, but she's not.

I recall the microscopic miracle inside me now and remember it was always best for her to grow up this way.

When it's time to say goodbye, I ask little Emma for a hug. She supplies me with one, curling her tiny arms around my neck. I hold her close, kissing her cheek. She doesn't seem to mind. Ben sneaks one in as well.

The reception has gone on without us, though the only difference is the change of music. It's upbeat, and a few people have dared to take the dance floor first.

We stay on the floor long after the Parkers step away. I watch them until they disappear in the crowd of people. I look over at Ben, and his eyes are tracing the lines in the floor. He looks sad, and I'm sure I look the same way.

I swallow harshly. "I'm pregnant."

Ben's slow to react, but when he does, his face goes white. "What?"

I can tell that he'll be thrilled once the whiteness passes. "I'm pregnant." I repeat, biting back a smile.

He studies my expression, looking for something that says I'm kidding. "How?"

I roll my eyes. "What do you mean how? It happened the same w-" He cuts me off with a kiss that shoots butterflies through my tummy. It's ironic, seeing how this kiss is definitely ten times better than our wedding kiss. It means more to us than anything else in the world.

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but it isn't honeymoon time yet." Sam gazes down at us with his hands on his hips. "If you're going to honeymoon during the reception, try and at least be classy about it. The floor, my friends, is not classy."

Ben clears his throat and jumps up to his feet, offering his hands to me. I raise myself up and smooth my dress out. It's a little wrinkled, but I'll live.

"Thank you for keeping it classy." I say to Sam, tucking a piece of hair back into place. "But I'm the bride. I can do whatever I want."

Sam holds up his hands innocently, backing away and giving us the space we need.

Ben pulls me close into a hug. I rest my chin on his shoulder and twist my fingers in the hair behind his head. I spot my mom and dad laughing with a few of our guests. Dad laughs alot like that these days, and it makes me happy.

"Should we tell them?" I ask Ben.

"They don't know?" I feel his breath on my neck.

I lean away and nod, curling my fingers through his. "You and Sara are the only ones that do."

Ben chews his bottom lip in thought, watching my parents like I am. Dad catches our eyes, and I smile at him.

"You have to do the talking this time." Ben tells me, poking my nose.

"I will. I want to." I start to tug him in the direction.

"Wait, wait." He holds still, leaning back on his heels. He looks on at my dad again. "Actually, I want to do it."

I fake pout. "But I wanted to do it."

We stare at each other, waiting for the other to give in. I turn towards my parents and size up the distance. I test the friction of my high heels on the floor and decide to kick them off. I use Ben's shoulder to keep me balanced.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

I toss the shoes to the side. "First one to my parents gets to tell them. On go? One...two..."

"You'll get grass stains on your --"

"Three...GO!" I bunch up my dress and start my sprint, leaving Ben behind and confused. I'm halfway there when I hear his laugh catching up.

It's a close race, but I win with the classy grass-stained slide to home plate.