Page 3 of Big Daddy to Go

“Huh?”

“What kind of honeymoon does Jason have planned for you?” she asks.

“Oh, we’re going to Bora Bora,” I smile. “I actually planned the honeymoon.”

And paid for it, because it’s my wedding gift to Jason. It set me back quite a bit, along with my dress and the other things for the wedding. But Jason’s parents paid for a lot too. Unfortunately, I had to plan everything myself because of course, my fiancé wasn’t any help.

“Too bad you can’t wear that bikini I got you,” Mom sighs.

“Why can’t she?” Melanie asks, glaring at my mother.

Mom laughs.

“Lexi was supposed to lose thirty pounds for the wedding…”

“I think she looks perfect the way she is,” Melanie states supportively.

I smile at her.

“Thanks, Mel.”

Melanie and I have been best friends since our freshman year at FIT. She has never gotten along with my mother, mostly because she says what’s on her mind and so does Mom. Melanie, however, has a filter, while Mom does not. I turn to Renee with a frown.

“I lost fifteen pounds, Mom. I don’t know what to tell you. I have hips and an ass, and they’re here to stay.”

Mom rolls her green eyes. She has always been petite and dainty. My father, who passed away when I was twelve, is who I got most of my physical traits from. He had thick, curly brown hair that Mom had pestered him to cut every time it grew out, and the same mud-colored eyes that I sport now.

The limo comes to a stop outside of the Church of the Holy Trinity, and nerves consume me once more. We make sure there is no sign of Jason outside before emerging from the car. The May sun shines in my eyes as I glance up at the pointy white steeple. I say a silent prayer, hoping I’m not making a serious mistake. The nerves in my body are worse now that we’re at the church.

We head to the church doors, and Melanie pops her head inside.

“The bride is here and ready,” she whispers to someone.

Like we practiced yesterday, we get into a line formation and wait for the music cue. But a few minutes pass by, and there’s no music whatsoever. Maybe the priest is late?

“I’ll check and see what the holdup is,” Mom says, about to open the church door.

But before she can reach for the door handle, one of the groomsmen steps out. He walks down the line of bridesmaids until he gets to me. Something is wrong. I can see it on Jason’s friend’s face. His expression is pinched but striving mightily to look normal. His lips curl up before he forces them into a flat line.

“Hey, Lexi,” he says, gently touching my elbow.

“Hi, Stephen. Is everything okay?”

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck.

“I don’t know how to tell you this…”

Oh God. Nothing good ever comes from a preface like that. A million different outcomes play out in my mind. My grandfather had another heart attack, maybe inside the church, and he had to be hauled off in an ambulance. Or my alcoholic uncle is already drunk and embarrassing our side of the family. Maybe the flowers didn’t turn out right. Or Jason’s tuxedo wasn’t picked up from the drycleaners, and they’re closed now.

“Jason isn’t coming,” Stephen swallows.

I stare at him, uncomprehending.

“What do you mean?”

The words are straight-forward, and I know there must be a “but” involved. Right?

“Jay has cold feet, and we couldn’t talk him into showing up. He called off the wedding. I’m sorry, Lexi.”