Without a Hitch(50)

It's the ass-crack of dawn, and I’m shuffling down the street, attempting not to let a dress that weighs nearly as much as I do drag on the sidewalk. Phoebe is a sweet girl, but this is definitely the strangest wedding I’ve ever been to.

Finally, the street curves to reveal the church in its entirety. It stands like a beacon against a clear blue sky. If I had time, I’d be running into these little shops that smell like heaven. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and I’m thankful for the oddities this day will bring. I’m pretty sure I’ll have time to run into that bakery I saw on the corner earlier.

Searching for the church entrance, I find Phoebe poking her head out the door at the top of the church steps. She waves wildly when she notices me, and I pick up my pace.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she calls. “Come on, let’s get inside before someone sees me, and I’ll go over all the details with you.” She clutches her stomach as she shuts the door behind us, and that’s when I notice her face is a little green.

“Ah, are you okay?”

She shakes her head, swallowing multiple times. “Pregnant,” she forces out while breathing heavily through her nose. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out something that looks like candy as she leads me into the underbelly of the church.

“Candied ginger,” she says, waving it in the air. “It’s supposed to help, but I think this kid likes me about as much as Jonas’s family.” There’s sadness in her voice, and I’m beginning to understand her odd request two weeks ago.

She slowly chews the vile-sounding treat, still exhaling through her nose, reminding me of a beautiful fire-breathing dragon. “So,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “Here’s the deal. Jonas’s family doesn’t think I’m good enough for him. My family doesn’t want me marrying a black man.”

“Jesus,” I blurt, then glance surreptitiously around our surroundings. I did just swear on God’s doorstep, after all. “Sorry, that’s just—what year are we living in?”

Phoebe is a beautiful redhead with freckles that shimmer like stars across her nose, the epitome of Boston’s finest Irish lass.

“Yeah, it’s sad, but it is what it is. My parents threatened to take away my trust fund if I didn’t call off the wedding. But there’s always a workaround.” She grins. “I am a lawyer, after all. I read the laws governing my trust. I dissected them. I get it when I turn twenty-five, or when I’m married, unless the executor of the trust changes it first.”

“That’s why the sneak attack wedding?”

“Yup, it’s also why I needed to tell you about the details in person. I wouldn’t put it past any of them to monitor my calls. They all think the wedding is tomorrow, but the way this town gossips, it won’t take long before my family or his, maybe both, show up. The church is ours all morning, so no one can get in for the ceremony, but…”

“But you need me to leave in the dress to throw off anyone watching.” Now, the dress sizing makes sense. I’m a little taller than Phoebe, and if she weren’t pregnant, we would probably fit into the same size much more easily. “How far along are you?”

“Almost five months.” She places a hand tenderly over her barely-showing belly.

“Five months? Wow! You can hardly tell!”

She gives a wry smile. “My doctor said I’ll pop any day now. The first one always takes longer to show.”

She genuinely glows. I’m happy for her, but I also feel that niggling of my own biological clock ticking.

I swallow the uncomfortable lump in my throat. “So, tell me what you need me to do.”

She smiles in appreciation, and for the first time, I feel like this crazy world I’ve fallen into makes sense. I’m making a difference, and that’s all I ever really wanted. “We’ll have the ceremony,”

she tells me while hanging up the dress bag. “It’ll be quick and sweet, and totally us, with only a handful of guests. A couple of my close friends and a couple of Jonas’s. As soon as it’s over, we’ll switch dresses. I’m sure by then, a crowd will be outside waiting. Jonas hired enough security that they won’t get in, but things could get ugly.”

Her hands shake as she rubs an open palm over her abdomen.

“We’ve got this, Phoebe. I promise. I’ll draw the crowd away from you, and you can slip away to meet Jonas. I’m assuming that’s the plan, right? Where are you meeting him?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I’m meeting him at the airport. He’ll sneak out the back after the ceremony, and I’ll go out the front with you.” Her grin grows maniacal. “We’ll be in the sand and sun before either of our families realize what happened. By the time they show up tomorrow for the ceremony with all their fake friends in tow, we’ll already be married, and they can watch a replay of it on the screen that they’ll set up at the altar. I’ll also have full control of my trust fund, and there won’t be a damn thing my father can do about it. Thanks to my cousin, I know he plans to corner me before the ceremony and give me the ultimatum to walk away or have my trust revoked. But tomorrow will be too late.”

“No offense, but this makes me really happy I grew up hovering on the poverty line.”