Around Our Heads

I was zoned out in front of my computer the next day when someone stuck a massive bouquet of flowers on my desk.

“What the hell?” I said, startled.

“Gift from everyone,” said the intern who brought it to me.

“Sweet. Thanks.” I opened the card. It was an engagement/pregnancy congratulations from everyone in the office. I suspected Olivia was behind it. So I peeked over my cubicle wall to see if she was watching. She was standing by her office door. She smiled and waved, so I mouthed, “Thank you,” and she gave me a thumbs up in response.

When I returned from my lunch break, another vase was on my desk, but it was just a single red rose. “To my future wife,” it said. Oh jeez. Then I felt all emotional again. The note was so sappy and romantic that I almost threw up. So when I finished reading it, I picked up the phone to call Chris.

“Thank you for the rose, snuggle pumpkins,” I said when he answered. He was silent for a second.

“Jesus,” he replied.

“I’m just messing with you.”

“I sure hope so because if you ever call me that again, it’s over.” I laughed.

“Whatever you say, honey lovey bear.”

“Shoot me, please?”

“Sweety pie, Chrissy poo.”

“What? Please don’t?”

“I’ll stop, cuddle bunny,” I replied.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, don’t go. I’m having fun.”

“You’re welcome for the rose. I’m going to hang up before someone passes you and overhears you talking to me like that, and my reputation is ruined.”

“Oh, don’t hang up, lovey dov….” The phone clicked off. Rude.

Later Chris came by to drop off my car since he’d given me a ride that morning. He came in to see me, apologized for hanging up on me, and then got out of there as fast as he could when I started calling him my widdle snuggle wuggle bear.

I was honestly really excited about being engaged. Chris and I were practically married anyway. I mean, in the sense that not much was going to change when we did get married except I’d probably take his name (because that was less painful than having to explain why my last name was from a man who was not actually related to me) and we’d probably join bank accounts. And all the other boring legal stuff.

But I mean, we’d also get to call each other husband and wife, and me and Avery would have the same last name. And we already wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Plus, the wedding sounded fun.

There was just only one teeny tiny thing that was kind of bothering me. That was the wedding itself. Not the fun stuff like the dress and the flowers and embarrassing myself in front of everyone. It was just that my guest list was going to be very small, even if we limited Chris to just close family and friends. He’d still have half the city and people from far-off places like Scotland and New Jersey, and my guest list was going to consist of my nerd herd, their dates, my brother, his wife, my niece, and that’s it. No more. That’s like one single pew of an average-sized church. Not that either of us wanted to get married in a church. But still.

Sure, I had other friends like Claudia and Olivia. But they would end up being on Chris’s side of the guest list because they were hitched to his teammates. I mean, I suppose I could invite the lady at the gas station who always threw in an extra churro for me. But other than that, I didn’t have many friends.

But this thought didn’t really occur to me until later, after I got home from work. I rushed in super excited to see Chris and Avery, and later when she was in bed for the night, Chris and I sat down at the kitchen table to discuss our plans and ideas.

“When do you want to get married?” he asked as he opened a notebook. I shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” I replied.

“I was thinking maybe November. So it’s kind of soon, but it still gives us enough time to plan.”

“I’ll be showing by then.” He smiled.

“It’s fine. I’m sure we can find a dress that fits. My mom can help you find one. She’s already going nuts sending me ideas.” That’s when it hit me. In the regular wedding business, I always heard the bride’s family paid for the event. But I didn’t have a family. I had a half-brother. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to want to take the place of my father. Or at least we weren’t close enough for him to act as a stand-in. No one was. I picked at my jeans, and Chris looked up. “What’s wrong?” he asked. I shook my head slowly.

“Just—thinking about something,” I told him.

“What is it?”

“Who’s going to walk me down the aisle?” I looked back up at him. He thought about it for a moment. My dad was dead. My biological father might as well be.

“Well—you don’t need to have someone walk you down the aisle, Mar. It’s the twenty-first century. I don’t really want anyone to give you to me. It doesn’t have to be traditional.” Of course I didn’t like the idea of anyone “giving” me away exactly. But I still liked the idea of a somewhat traditional wedding. I looked down at my lap again.

“My guest list is going to be very small,” I said. He reached out to pinch my chin.

“Babe,” he said softly. “We’re not going to divide this up into sides. You’ve got a big enough family and lots of friends, okay? Don’t think that just because I knew some of them before you, they’re only there for me. This is our day. This is to celebrate us and bring us closer together. This isn’t for anyone but you, me, and Avery. And this new baby. You don’t need anyone to walk you down the aisle. You don’t need a big guest list.” I smiled and nodded.

“I know. I’m just overthinking it. It just—bothers me sometimes that they don’t know her.”

“It bothers me too. But that’s what they wanted. They’re the ones who are missing out.”

“I think I want to talk to her.”

“Who?”

“My mom.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded.

“I just want some answers,” I explained. “I know she doesn’t like me, and I don’t blame her for that, but I still want to know. And she doesn’t know anything about Avery, and it really—upsets me.” He nodded.

“If that’s what you want to do. I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he agreed. I smiled again.

“You’re the best fuck buddy I’ve ever had.” He laughed and shook his head.

“Here we go again.”

“Chrissy pumpkins.” He put his hands over his ears.

“La, la, la, la, la.” I made kissy faces at him.