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1169 Words
James didn't seriously tell Mason that. I was going to kill him when I got home. We had talked about this. I could do the whole bed rest thing after Bee's wedding. She needed me right now. I wasn't going to leave her in the lurch like Melissa had done to me. I was taking my role as matron of honor very seriously.
And I felt fine. Besides, the doctor recommended bed rest. He didn't demand it. The baby kicked me again. Ow. Traitor. "Bed rest is just a general term for taking it easy. I think relaxing and eating water ice counts."
"You're sure you feel okay? I don't want to be the reason that something happens to the baby."
I shook my head. "Nothing is going to happen. Everything is normal."
She winced at my use of the word normal again.
"Can we please just have a conversation that doesn't have to do with the fact that I'm pregnant? Let's focus on the wedding. Have you written your vows yet?"
"Ugh. No. I can't properly express how I feel in words. I so badly want them to be perfect, you know?"
"Well, what do you have so far?"
"Um...nothing, really. I'm too in my head. Everyone's going to be staring at me and I don't know what's going to come out of my mouth. I do presentations and pitches all the time, but this is way more intimidating."
"Think about the positives, though. You could spill red wine down the front of your wedding gown and still look smoking hot next to me. I secretly think you picked me to be your matron of honor because you knew I'd be a blimp."
Bee laughed. "You're right. It has nothing to do with the fact that you're my best friend."
I swallowed hard. I had been so flattered when Bee asked me to be her matron of honor. She had made friends in the city before meeting me. But we hung out all the time now. James and Mason being best friends basically forced us to be best friends too. And I was so happy that it did. I reached for a napkin.
"Are you crying?" she asked.
I blotted the napkin under my eyes. "I can't control my emotions. I'm a mess."
"Let's get you home. I have a wedding to focus on. James can take care of you for the rest of the day."
I laughed. "I don't need a babysitter."
"You sprinted here when you're supposed to be on bed rest. You absolutely need a babysitter."
"What I need is for him to stop kicking me." I placed my hand on my stomach. Calm down.
"Still convinced it's going to be a boy?"
"It feels like a boy. I can't explain it. But I know it is."
"Yeah, that makes no sense to me at all."
"That's because you've never been pregnant before," I said.
"Whenever I do get pregnant, I'm going to find out the s*x of the baby immediately. I don't know how you can bear not knowing when you could literally pick up the phone and find out."
"I already know. It's definitely a boy."
Bee rolled her eyes. "Come on, big momma. Let's get your crazy ass home."
"Bee!"
We both laughed as she helped me to my feet. Before we stepped out into the scorching heat I turned and gave her a hug. With all of our jokes, I could still tell she was worried. I truly did believe that there was nothing to worry about. She should be spending the next week in pre-wedding bliss, not studying my pale face.
"You can worry about me after you get back from the honeymoon. But not before, okay?"
She squeezed me back. "It's a little hard to just turn off an emotion, Penny. I do need to focus on my vows, though. Or else the whole wedding will be a disaster."
I held her at arm's length. "A disaster? As long as no one gets shot, I think we're good."
"It's still too soon to joke." But she smiled anyway. "Besides, last time I checked, Mason didn't have any crazy exes."
Friday
"I'm home!" I called as I locked the door behind me. I was greeted by silence. "James? Ellen?" No one responded. It was rare to be home alone. I couldn't even remember the last time our apartment had been so quiet. I walked into the kitchen and scanned the counter.
"I'm sorry, little man," I said to my belly as I smoothed the fabric of my dress over my stomach. "There aren't any bananas left. How about an apple?" I shook my head as I eyed the fruit basket. "Yeah, that doesn't sound as good to me either."
I grabbed a glass of water instead and wandered into the living room. I sat down on the couch and rested my head back, staring up at the ceiling. It felt so good to sit down. Everything ached today. Silence probably comforted some people, but it made me feel unsettled. It was like this big empty void. Bed rest would be okay if there were people around all the time. But I didn't want to just sit around by myself. That sounded more like torture.
I sighed and stood back up. Ow. I placed my hand on my stomach. "Really, you need to stop doing that. I already told you there aren't any bananas." Another kick landed beneath my ribs. "I'll find something else. Please just stop kicking me." I walked back into the kitchen. I was about to open up the fridge when I spotted the mail on the counter.
It was foolish, but I let myself get excited when I saw a letter addressed to my pen name, Ivy Smoak. I tore open the top, unfolded the piece of paper, and held my breath as I read the words.
Dear Ms. Smoak,
Thank you for your query. We greatly appreciate your submission and have given it our careful consideration. Unfortunately, we do not feel that your project is the right fit for our agency. Please keep in mind that this is a very subjective business. Thanks for thinking of our agency and we wish you the best with your writing career.
Sincerely,
Mallory Jenson
Agent/Submissions Coordinator
Clark Henshaw Literary Group
I slowly exhaled. Subjective business. It was only biased in the sense that every agency in the city agreed that my writing sucked. The problem was that after this many rejections, I was starting to believe them. At first it was easy to push the rejection aside. Now though? Maybe I didn't have what it took. Maybe my manuscript really was as crappy as everyone said. I stuffed the paper back in the envelope. Or maybe they weren't reading it at all. Careful consideration probably meant straight in the trashcan. Well, two could play that game. I tore the rejection letter in half and tossed it into the trash.
- Writer
