Chapter 19 — The Perfect Dress
Landon:
Brooke walks into the kitchen wearing my shirt, and I drop an egg. Splat!
"I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure the egg is supposed to go into the frying pan," she teases, smiling all shy and cute. Feeling whiplash from the double shock of her in my shirt and her teasing, I just stand there like an idiot for about half a minute. Brooke hops onto a barstool and places something on the counter. Her movement pulls me out of my stupor, and I grin at her.
"Nice shirt!" I make sure to leer dramatically, tilting my head as if I were trying to get a better view.
Brooke blushes, and I mentally add another tally mark to my scoreboard. Getting her to blush is my new favorite game. I swoop down and clean up the egg mess. This time, it's Brooke who peeks over the counter, trying to get a better view. I make sure to tilt my body so my butt is in clear view for her. I peek over my shoulder and catch her eye—another tally.
I grab a fresh egg start the process over again. I already have premade hash browns Mrs. Fanny left for us—as she has the day off—warming in the oven. I make sure to toast up some bread and set out a jar of raspberry jam. I set the meal at the bar and hop on a stool next to Brooke. I see no reason to go to the trouble of moving to the breakfast nook. "Bon appetite, beagchaithnini sneachta," I say and watch as she eagerly digs in.
I am halfway through my meal when I notice what it was she put on the counter.
"What's this?" I ask, picking up the white envelope. Brooke glances up from her plate and shrugs.
"The gender," she says simply. Those two simple words made my heart skip a beat. Do I want to know? No, I do not. If Brooke wants it to be a surprise, then it will be a surprise. Lord knows she deserves her every desire.
I push the envelope back to her. Her eyes light up for a minute before she bashfully ducks her head.
"I've made our dinner reservations for seven tonight," I say casually. Inside I am trembling. Does she still want to go on a date with me? Last night was great, and this morning was fantastic, but her mood could shift with a slight breeze.
"That sounds perfect. Sonia and I are supposed to go for lunch at one." My heart sinks. I wanted to spend the day together. Do not push. Baby steps, I tell myself.
"That's great. I must go into the office today anyway. For some reason, people feel the need to talk to their boss every now and then." I force a smile at my lame joke.
Brooke let out a sort of half giggle. The room fills with uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, we have nothing to say to each other. No easy conversation or small talk. It makes me worry about tonight. How will we fill two hours with conversation when we could not even get through breakfast?
Brooke:
The awkward silence raises my arm hair. It is like someone flipped a switch, and reality settled back in. Maybe Landon and I just are not compatible. Maybe last night was just a fluke, and we really cannot get along. Sure, we have sexual chemistry, but perhaps that is it. What if we are not meant to be? Is it me? Am I not meant for relationships? Am I too damaged for this?
Landon grabs our empty dishes and puts them in the sink.
"I'm going to go grab a shower and head out. Do you need anything?" I shake my head. "Alright then. Hope you have a good lunch." Landon leans in to kiss me, and in my surprise, I jerk my head. This causes his kiss to land awkwardly on my cheek.
"I'm sorry... I... You...startled me...and..." Landon's fingers gently grasp my chin, lifting my face. Then his warm, soft lips slowly seal on mine. It is a chaste kiss but still melts my bones like butter.
When the kiss ends, Landon smiles brightly at me. "I'll be thinking of you today," he says before he leaves the room. My heart is doing somersaults.
Glancing at the clock, I see that it was only nine a.m. Seven seems forever away. That is when it hits me. Landon is taking me to a fancy French restaurant. With fancy dishes I cannot pronounce and fancy china that would be expensive if I broke it, with a bunch of fancy uppity customers wearing their fancy clothes. I think of the elegant little black dress hanging in my closet or my rose gold cocktail dress. Perfect for the occasion—if I was not eight months pregnant and FAT!!!
Sonia arrives at 12:30 to find me bawling on my closet floor, the contents of my closet haphazardly thrown about me.
"Brooke! Oh my goodness, are you okay? I got your text and came as fast as I could. Is it the baby?" I shook my head, whining. After three hours of trying on all my clothes, I determined that pregnant and elegant did not match.
"I'm fat! I am so fat I do not fit any of my fancy clothes. So, I have to cancel my date because I'm fat," I cry.
Sonia puts a hand over her mouth to smother her laugh, but giggles still manage to leak through.
"Don't laugh at me! What kind of friend are you? A horrible one who laughs at fat people," I bellow.
"I'm sorry. I am sorry. Brooke, honey, you are not fat! I mean, look at you eight months pregnant, and you only carry it in your belly. I know a lot of women who put on weight everywhere when they're pregnant." I swipe at my tears.
"That doesn't let me go on my date tonight." I moan.
"What date?" Sonia's eyebrows crease.
"Landon wants to take me to some fancy French place, but I can't go because they won't let me in if I wear my sweatpants and that the only thing that fits."
"Now who's the horrible friend keeping things from her best friend? Why didn't you tell me Landon was taking you out?"
"I was going to tell you at lunch today. He just asked me yesterday," I say indignantly.
"And what brought up this turn of events? I thought you guys were ignoring each other?" Sonia asks. I shrug.
"It just sort of happened."
"That's it. That is all I get? It just sort of happened?" Sonia protests.
"Yeah. I guess. I mean, we were fighting, and he got mad, so I got mad, and things were said. Then we kind of came to a truce and decided we'd start over." Sonia waves her hand dramatically.
"There are so many holes in that story it's ridiculous. Let us go to lunch. You can tell me everything then." She shoots me a smile. "And if I like your story, maybe I help you find a dress to wear for your fancy date."
We decide to eat at this cute café in town that has fantastic sandwiches. I tell Sonia everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Well, almost everything. I left out some of this morning’s events.
"AAAHHH!" she squeals when I finish. “That's so cute! And romantic!" She does a weird clapping thing before she settles down, calm and composed again. "Oh, and I know the perfect dress for you to wear. I saw it last week at Nordstrom's. You would look fabulous in it. Maybe I should design a maternity line," she says distractedly. She waves the thought away. "Anyway, we should go get it now. If we hurry, we can get hair and nails done too."
Sonia and I spend the rest of the day beautifying me. We talk about everything under the sun, laughing at corny jokes and just having a grand old time. We stop to get coffee when Sonia asks me, "When are you going to tell him?" Startled, I spill some coffee on the front of my shirt.
"Tell who what?" I ask. Sonia just raises an eyebrow.
"Tell Landon whatever it is that you aren't telling me." I stare at the ground, uncomfortable.
"I don't know. I know I should. I just...can't. We're just starting to get along. What if it changes things between us? What if he gets mad?" I confess.
Sonia grabs my hand and squeezes it gently. "Sweetie, I don't know what it is, but I do know that Landon is a practical guy. If you just tell him, I am sure he will understand. Help even." I say nothing. I do not know what to say. How do you tell someone you're dying? I know Sonia thinks what I have not told him is about my father. I wonder what she would say if I said to her that Landon already knew he was abusive.
"Are you still going when the baby is born?" she whispers. I swallow a sob down and nod. Sonia gives me a small smile. "Well then, your secret is safe with me. Just know I'm not for this."