Her father mopped his forehead as Liz bit down on her bouquet to keep from screaming. At the end of the aisle, Wes looked concerned and started toward her.
“Don’t you dare!” Liz screamed. “You stay right there. Help me down!”
It took me, Dana, and Liz’s father—who was so overwrought at the thought that his first grandchild would be born any minute that he was zero help—to bring Liz to the altar.
“Liz, what the hell?” Wes said. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“We are getting married!” she yelled.
“Fine,” Wes said flatly, “but then you’re going to the hospital.”
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant began.
Ivy motioned to the officiant to hurry up the wedding. He started speed reading. Mark and I exchanged worried glances throughout the ceremony. I rubbed Liz’s back as the contractions came. We skipped all the readings, then Liz practically screamed her vows.
“By the power vested in me by the State of Connecticut, you may kiss the bride.”
Wes gave her a kiss on the cheek—which was wise, I decided, because Liz might have bitten off a chunk of his face if he got any closer to her mouth. Then Wes scooped her up and carried her to the car Ivy had arranged to take them to the hospital.
55
Mark
“What happened?” I said to Brea after Wes had taken Liz to the hospital, followed by her mom and dad.
I wasn’t sure if I should go or stay. Dana had left, and I figured Liz didn’t need a whole crew there as her new baby came into the world. The guests were still seated and talking amongst themselves. My mom stood up.
“Thank you all for joining us on this exciting day. We have cocktails on the terrace, then you are welcome to join us for a reception. We will keep everyone updated as events progress.”
“She’s such a classy hostess,” Brea remarked. Then her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry about ruining your rehearsal dinner.”
“I’m sorry for overreacting,” I told her.
“I kind of deserved it,” she said.
The bridal party was milling around. Ivy was talking with my mother about updating the schedule for the evening.
“I guess we’re not taking pictures,” Brea said uncertainly.
“Come with me,” I said to Brea, tugging her along with me.
“I don’t want to miss cocktail hour,” she said. “I need some grilled chicken and alcohol. I’m so freaked out!”
“Liz seemed like she was halfway there,” I said.
“Oh my God,” Brea exclaimed as she followed me through the garden to the main house. “I thought the baby was going to come right there in the middle of the ceremony. I can’t believe she didn’t call it off.”
“Liz knows her own mind,” I said as I led her into the house and to a closed door. I turned to her. “I have been told that in these situations, a grand gesture is appropriate.”
Brea made a face. “Why don’t we just let bygones be bygones and start over. Or at least rewind a bit.”
“But I already found you the perfect presents,” I said, flinging open the door. “Ta-da!”
“Oh my gosh, is that a Louis Vuitton steamer trunk?” she gasped. “Why? How?”
“Money can be exchanged for goods and services,” I told her.
“Oh my God, my dads are going to flip out. I can’t accept this. It’s like enough to buy a car!”
