“I think the plan sucks,” said Rory. “It was a sweet idea that you would marry the baby daddy of kid number one, and then divorce him to marry the second baby daddy, and so forth, but it ain’t happening. And we’ll lose the money for the deposits for the hotel and the catering if we don’t have that wedding in two months. Besides, I’m not getting any younger.”
“That’s my line,” Tobias said. He arched an eyebrow to make his point. I noticed Tobias’ stylish grey “lawyer man” suit. He was ready to leave for work but stalled that plan to attend to Jacine’s incipient meltdown.
“That’s a good point,” quipped Rory.
"Pick one of us," said Jersey. "Pick me. I want to be Mr. Jacine Alexander, husband of the hottest PR manager in LA."
Rory tossed a pillow at Jersey's head, but he batted it away.
"Stop it," said Jacine. "No fighting. And if Mother Nature doesn't want to grace me with a child, there is no use in getting married.
Tobias shook his head. "Oh, no. Not after we listened about the travails with the wedding dress."
"Hey, you told me that it was okay to tell you guys anything and you'd share the wealth." She walked to her vast closet and pulled out one of her work dresses which after three months, I recognized all too well, and now I know the crux of the problem.
It's like Tobias told us when we started this, Jacine could handle anything, but that didn't mean that she didn't get stressed about it. Usually, I'd put my arm around her waist and try to de-stress her, but that could part of the problem too. We'd all been in LA for the past three months while we put our tour schedules on hold to prepare for the wedding. But making the baby-making a priority while planning a wedding and running a business had to wear her out.
“That’s it,” I said. I stalked forward and took the dress from her hand. “You’re taking the day off.”
“Now wait a minute,” she said.
“Tobias, any reason Franklin can’t handle her business appointments today?”
“I’ll call him right now.” He whipped out his phone and called Jacine’s dad.
“Hold up,” said Jacine. Fire lit her eyes, and it wasn’t the kind I wanted to see. No, it was the heat of a lioness ready to tear apart her prey. “I will not have you dictate my work schedule. Not a single one of you.”
“This is for your own good,” I said. “Stress makes it difficult to conceive.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” she said. “It was just too ambitious to expect I would get pregnant this soon. The doctor said it could take up to a year.”
“A doctor?” said Dys with concern. “You saw a doctor?”
“It’s a good thing, bro,” said Rory. “And Cole’s not wrong.” He stared at his phone. “There is an article here that says ‘A recent study found women with high levels of alpha-amylase, an enzyme that correlates with stress have a harder time getting pregnant. Those with the highest enzyme concentrations were twelve percent less likely to conceive than were women with the lowest levels.'"
“There you go,” said Jersey. “Scientific proof.”
“It’s only twelve percent,” protested Jacine.
“Admit it, Jacy,” said Tobias. “You’ve been working overtime and then coming home to us. There is a limit to what the human body can take.”
Jacine huffed and dropped onto the bed.
“Is this what it’s like getting old?”
“Old?” said Tobias. “You don’t know what it’s like to be old.”
“Now you sound like my father.”
“Ouch,” said Jersey in a rare moment of empathy.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Tobias," said Jacine. She, along with the rest of us knew what a sore spot Tobias' age was for him, though to tell the truth, the lawyer had no problem keeping up with us. But Jacine looked close to losing it, and I can't allow that.
“That’s it,” I said. I swung Jacine’s feet onto the bed.
“Wait.”
“Franklin has Jacine’s appointments covered,” Tobias announced.
