Page 51 of The Wedding Planner's Manny
I'd exchanged short greetings with all of them when we'd come in and no one had really asked any questions when I told them I was here for moral support, but I could feel their eyes lingering on us whenever they weren't pretending to be absorbed in the book, magazine or phone in their hands. Mrs.
Clark spent a good couple of minutes tapping furiously on her phone.
Was she tweeting about me?
I could only hope no one was sneaking pictures.
Maybe after this appointment I'd go talk to Cynthia, just to see how fast and how far the gossip was spreading.
“What are you thinking about?” Rhys' voice cut through my musings.
“Nothing,” I lied. He wasn't buying it, of course. He was far too smart. Part of the reason I liked him so much.
“You know a lot of people in town, don't you?” he asked, voice lowered a little.
“Yeah, isn't it great?” I forced a fake smile on my lips.
“I don't know, is it?”
“Super great,” I reassured him. We were here for Rhys' baby and I wasn't lying when I told everyone that I'd come for moral support. I didn't want him to worry about the rumors that might be popping into existence right this moment. My ex was always stressing about what the people in town might be saying about her. So much so, that in the end, she couldn't stand the idea of spending another day here anymore.
But it seemed Rhys wasn't concerned for himself. No, he was concerned forme. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked. His hand, resting on his thigh, twitched, as if he wanted to move it over to mine but stopped himself at the last moment, remembering that we were in public. I should have known he wouldn't care what people were saying. He wasn't like me and Laura, formerly popular kids so spoiled by the spotlight we never realized that high school had ended. Rhys had never cared about any of that.
Wasn't that what drew me to him?
“I'll be okay,” I said softly. And then, in front of everyone, I took his hand.
Let them talk.
We were called into the examination room about twenty minutes later. The doctor Rhys had picked was a friendly, middle-aged woman with graying hair and large spectacles. I was sure I'd seen her around before, but never knew her name until she introduced herself as Dr. Voss. Then I realized her son was delivering my Sunday morning newspaper.
Slowly, I was starting to wonder if there wasanyonein this town I wasn't connected to insomeway.
Probably not. Ah, the joy of small town life.
That all aside, though, Dr. Voss seemed to be a terrific doctor. With her warm smile and demeanor, she made both me and Rhys feel comfortable in no time—which was no small feat considering we'd basically just announced our inappropriate relationship to an army of gossips.
Oblivious to this, Dr. Voss looked at the way I was holding Rhys' hand as he settled in the examination chair and asked if I was the father. IwishedI was, but sadly... “I'm afraid I'm not,” I said.
“But I'll be here for Rhys,” I added.
Dr. Voss nodded. “Good for you two. I'm glad to see there's alphas now willing to do what you're doing. You know in my parents' generation that would have been unthinkable.” She shook her head as if saddened by this fact as she spread some sort of gel on Rhys' stomach.
“We're progressing, I think. At least in some parts of this country.” I didn't want to think of the part where Rhys had lived with his ex and I sure as hell didn't want to live by their ridiculous rules for how alphas and omegas had to behave, either.
“I think I'm really lucky,” Rhys spoke up, squeezing my hand.
“Nonsense,” I told him. “You deserve to be happy.” And if he needed someone to remind him of that every day for the rest of his life, I was happy to volunteer.
“Listen to your boyfriend,” Dr. Voss said, and then, only a few seconds later, we could see an image on the screen next to the examination chair. Instantly my eyes were glued to it, realizing I was taking my first look at Rhys' child. The little one was such an integral part of Rhys'—and of Rhys'lifegoing forward—that I didn't understand how he'd thought even for a moment that I wouldn't want to come to this appointment with him. He'd turned all shy and quiet when he told me about it. But how could I not be here with him for this if I was serious about him at all? And I was serious. I didn't do anything half-assed, least of all relationships.
Rhys wore such a beautiful smile on his face as he looked at the screen. For the first time, I thought I could see something like pride in his gaze. It suited him well.
“The little one's growing well,” the doctor told us. “Right on schedule.”
“That's great,” Rhys said without ever taking his eyes off the screen. He was mesmerized by it. I couldn't blame him. I remembered when I'd taken Laura to her ultrasounds and how fascinated—and utterly terrified—I'd been by everything as a first-time parent. Rhys was calmer than me, but he wasn't a teen. I'd been more laid back with Caleb too. I'd known what to expect then. Or at least, I'd thought I knew. Kids were all so different you could never really know what to expect. Honestly, one of the reasons I liked event planning so much was because it seemed so completely impossible to plan anything else in life.
“Would you like to know if you're having a boy or a girl?” Dr. Voss asked.
