Page 82 of Bountiful
Finding Shipley Farm was easy. There were a hundred cars lining the otherwise sleepy dirt road. I added Zara’s car to the end of the line and climbed out. “Okay, girlie,” I said to Nicole. “Let’s go find yourmommy.”
Nicole smiled so widely that I found myself smiling right along with her. I took stock of both of us. My fly was zipped, and my shirt was tucked in. “You look like a big girl in this dress,” I told Nicole, smoothing it down. “Very appropriate for awedding.”
I carried her the quarter mile or so up the long driveway, past rows of apple trees not unlike the pear trees on Zara’s family farm. Only this place seemedbigger.
So this was Shipley Farm. It was a nice spread, I had to admit. I wondered what Zara thought about this wedding. If she’d gotten her original wish, it might have beenherwedding, right? If Griff hadn’t ended things, she and I would never have had our fling, and Nicole wouldn’t be propped onto my right hip as I approached a wide, oval lawn where guests stood inclusters.
Would an outcome featuring Mrs. Zara Shipley have been better foreveryone?
Ten days ago I would have said yes. But now Nicole was a very real weight on my arm. Bess was deeply in love with the baby, and I had to admit that Zara seemed happy—if not with me, then with life ingeneral.
Besides—nobody had asked me, anyway. I was starting to realize that getting older was just a lengthy exercise in getting schooled on all the ways you weren’t in charge of your owndestiny.
The baby wiggled in my arms as we approached the wedding guests. She wanted to get down and run across all that green grass. But I couldn’t give in. There was a cocktail hour in progress. Caterers circled with trays of drinks. I scanned the crowd for Zara, but other women wearing the same exact dress kept foolingmyeyes.
Someone pointed at me—a stranger who whispered into his date’s ear. I felt eyes on me, but I didn’treallycare.
There was only one person here that I neededtofind.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Zara
My God,weddings were stressful. Maybe it was actually agoodthing that I would never have one ofmyown.
“Is there anything I can bring you?” I asked Audrey for the seventeenth time. “Maybe something bland to put in yourstomach?”
“Sure,” shewhispered.
We were standing behind the caterers’ tent, where Audrey had just puked into a wastebasket. I was holding a stack of napkins, handing them to her one atatime.
“I’ll be okay now,” she said with a watery smile. “I think.” She took the glass of water from my hand, rinsed out her mouth,andspit.
“Here’s the lipgloss.” I offered it to her from mypurse.
She shook her head. “The fake cherry smell isn’thelping.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sosorry.”
“Don’t be.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I knew this wasarisk.”
“You’re a trooper. And I’m sure Griff will be great about it on yourhoneymoon.”
“He’s over the moon about thepregnancy.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” He would be, of course. Before today, Griff and his mother were the only two people who’dofficiallyknown about Audrey’s pregnancy. They’d been trying to reach the twelve-week mark before announcing it. But morning sickness was still hitting Audrey hard, and this morning I’d stopped pretending I didn’t know she was pregnant. Instead, I’d held her hair and her dress out of the way every time she’dbarfed.
“You’re my hero,” Audrey had whimpered more than oncealready.
She’d held it together during the ceremony and the receiving line, but when I had seen her dart away from Grandpa Shipley and run behind the tent, I’d followed with the water and thenapkins.
“This gets better, right?” She dabbed at herwateryeyes.
“Absolutely.” I was faking this knowledge, though, because I’d never thrown up when I was pregnant, whereas Audrey had puked four times already today. I had no clue when she’d start to feel better. “If it’s any consolation, you really do look beautiful right now. I hate you just a little bit that you can yarf and still look put-together.”
“I’ve been a very tidy barfer today. There should be atrophy.”
“What sounds better—a bit of bread, or sparklingwater?”
