It didn’t really hit me how hard of a time Belly was having until I heard her on the phone with Taylor later that week. She had her door open, and I was brushing my teeth in the hall bathroom.
I heard her say, “Taylor, I really appreciate what your mom is trying to do, but I promise you, it’s okay.… I know, but it would just feel too weird with all the adults from the neighborhood at my wedding shower and then my mom not being there.…” I heard her sigh and say, “Yeah, I know. Okay. Tell your mom thanks.”
She closed her door then, and I was pretty sure I heard her start to cry.
I went to my room, lay down on my bed, and stared up at the ceiling.
Belly hadn’t let on to me how sad she was about her mom. She was an upbeat kind of person, naturally cheerful, like Jere. If there was a bright side, Belly would find it. Hearing her cry, it shook me up. I knew I should stay out of it. That was the smart thing to do. She didn’t need me looking out for her. She was a big girl. Besides, what could I do for her?
I was definitely staying out of it.
The next morning, I got up early to see Laurel. It was still dark out when I left. I called her on the way and asked if she could meet for breakfast. Laurel was surprised, but she didn’t ask questions; she said she’d meet me at a diner off the highway.
I guess Laurel had always been special to me. Ever since I was a kid, I just liked being near her. I liked the way you could be quiet around her, and with her. She didn’t talk down to kids. She treated us like equals. After my mom died and I transferred to Stanford, I started calling Laurel every once in a while. I still liked talking to her, and I liked that she reminded me of my mom without it hurting too much. It was like a link to home.
She got to the diner first—she was sitting in a booth waiting for me. “Connie,” she said, standing up and opening her arms. She looked like she’d lost weight.
“Hey, Laur,” I said, hugging her back. She felt gaunt in my arms, but she smelled the same. Laurel always had a clean, cinnamony smell.
I sat down across from her. After we ordered, pancakes and bacon for both of us, she said, “So how have you been?”
“I’ve been all right,” I said, chugging down some juice.
How was I even supposed to broach this subject? This wasn’t my style. It didn’t come naturally to me, the way it would for Jere. I was butting in on something that wasn’t my business. But I had to do it. For her.
I cleared my throat and said, “I called you because I wanted to talk about the wedding.”
Her face got tight, but she didn’t interrupt.
“Laur, I think you should go. I think you should be part of it. You’re her mom.”
Laurel stirred her coffee, and then she looked at me and said, “You think they should get married?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then, what do you think?”
“I think they love each other and they’re going to do it regardless of what anyone else thinks. And… I think that Belly really needs her mom right now.”
Drily, she said, “Isabel seems to be doing just fine without me. She never even called to let me know where she was. I had to hear it from Adam—who, by the way, is apparently paying for this wedding now. Classic Adam. And now Steven’s a best man, and Belly’s dad is going to give in the way he always does. It seems I’m the only holdout.”
“Belly isn’t fine. She’s barely eating. And… I heard her crying last night. She was saying how Taylor’s mom is throwing her a wedding shower but it won’t feel right without you there.”
Laurel’s face softened, just a little. “Lucinda’s throwing her a shower?” Then, stirring her coffee again, she said, “Jere hasn’t thought this through. He isn’t taking it seriously enough.”
“You’re right, he’s not a serious guy. But believe me, he’s serious about her.” I took a deep breath before I said, “Laurel, if you don’t go, you’ll regret it.”
She looked at me directly. “Are we speaking honestly with each other here?”
“Don’t we always?”
Laurel nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Yes, that we do. So tell me. What’s your interest in all of this?”
I knew this was coming. This was Laurel, after all. She didn’t mess around. “I want her to be happy.”
“Ah,” she said. “Just her?”
“Jeremiah, too.”
“And that’s it?” She looked at me steadily.
I just looked back at her.
I tried to pay for breakfast since I was the one who invited her out, but Laurel wouldn’t let me. “Not gonna happen,” she said.
On the drive back, I played back our conversation. The knowing look on Laur’s face when she asked me what my interest in this was. What was I doing? Picking out vases with Belly, trying to play peacemaker with the parents. Suddenly I was their wedding planner, and I didn’t even agree with them. I needed to disengage from the situation. I was washing my hands of the whole mess.
