“How are you doing with canceling the wedding?” Zennie asked. “Do you need help returning gifts or anything?”
“Thanks, but everything is done.” She wrinkled her nose. “I honestly don’t know what to do about the dress. I’m not excited about selling it or even donating it. I would love to give it to someone I knew needed it, but I don’t want to just put it in a donation box somewhere, knowing it will show up in a store and be priced at five dollars.”
She looked at her sister. “I don’t mean that in a horrible way.”
“I know what you mean. It was special and you want it to stay that way.”
“I kind of do. Maybe I should look online for a group that finds wedding gowns for women in need or something.”
“I have a friend who works in oncology at the hospital,” Zennie told her. “There was a patient who was thinking of getting married between rounds of chemo. Want me to check and see if she needs a dress?”
Ali smiled. “I would love that. Just make sure she knows it’s going to need alterations.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I think I still have a couple of pictures of the dress. I’ll text them to you and you can forward them to your friend.”
Giving the dress to someone in need would make her feel better about having to get rid of it.
She found the picture and studied herself for a second. She’d been so happy to finally find the right gown for her wedding. Even as she’d been excited, Glen had probably been plotting his exit. She wondered when he’d changed his mind about them. There was no way she was going to believe he’d tricked her from the beginning. Even Glen couldn’t be that awful, and if he could be, she didn’t want to know. She’d reached a place where she was sad but recovering from their broken engagement. The healing had come more quickly than she would have expected, which probably said something about their relationship.
They went through more boxes. They found stacks of books they’d had as kids and put them in the donate pile. Zennie pulled out her letter jacket from high school.
“I’m keeping this,” Zennie said, holding it up. “I wonder if I can get it dry-cleaned or something. It has to be dusty.”
“Not to mention sweaty,” Ali teased. “You were so proud of that thing. You wore it constantly.” Given the fact that it was close to seventy degrees, even in winter, thick letter jackets were rarely needed for warmth.
“I worked hard for it,” Zennie said, carefully folding the jacket and setting it by the door. “Dad and I were both really upset when I lettered and they told me I could only get a sweater. Seriously, it wasn’t the 1880s. Why would only guys be eligible for the jacket while girls got a sweater? Stupid administrators. But we prevailed.”
“Dad was always really supportive of you,” Ali said. She wasn’t bitter—facts were facts.
“He was.”
They moved on to another set of boxes. Ali opened the first one and groaned. “I think we’re going to have to keep these. You know how Mom is.”
She held up several items of baby clothing. Little dresses and onesies, all well-worn but clean. There was a beautiful white dress that Ali didn’t remember wearing but knew they all had for their christening.
She waved the dress. “Hard to believe we were ever this small,” she said. “Mom is keeping the grandkid dream alive, that’s for sure. And we keep disappointing her.”
Zennie looked at the dress, then glanced away. She started to speak, pressed her lips together and cleared her throat.
“What?” Ali demanded. “You’re acting weird.” She tried to figure out why. “Did you get back together with Clark? Oh my God, are you in love with him and thinking of getting married?”
“What? No! Why would you think that? Clark and I aren’t together, I’m not in love. The best first date I’ve had in months was with a lesbian.”
Ali made a mental note to come back to the lesbian comment. “So what’s going on?”
She half expected her sister to deny anything was, but instead Zennie said, “You have to swear not to tell anyone. I mean it. Completely swear.”
“I swear.”
Possibilities flitted in and out of her head. She doubted Zennie was sick and if there wasn’t a guy, then what? She was moving out of state? She was getting a cat. No, not a pet. That wasn’t swear-worthy. Maybe she wanted to go back to school for something.
“You remember when Bernie had cancer?”
Ali’s heart sank. “No. Don’t tell me it’s back.”
“It’s not. She’s doing great. But because of the surgery and stuff, she can’t have kids. She and Hayes and I talked and well, I’m going to be their surrogate.”
Ali processed the information. “I don’t know exactly what that means. Are you going to have a fertilized egg planted inside or are you donating the egg and then having the baby?”
“I’m donating the egg.” Zennie’s eyes brightened. “I had the procedure yesterday.”
“What?” Ali’s gaze dropped to her sister’s annoying flat stomach. “You’re telling me that you could be pregnant right this second?”
“I could.”
The news was astounding. “That’s incredible, Zennie. What an amazing gift to give your best friend. Or anyone. A baby. You’re so generous. I don’t know if I could do that for someone. But you are. Are you excited? Or scared? Or both?”
Zennie laughed. “Kind of both. It’s not real. I mean I was at the doctor’s office and they inserted sperm, but it doesn’t feel real. I’ll take a pregnancy test in a couple of weeks to find out for sure.”
“Good for you. Congratulations. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“You have enough on your plate, but thanks.”
Ali waved away her comment. “I’m doing great. The wedding is canceled, I might have a solution for the dress problem and I’m, ah, going to move in with a friend while I figure out my living situation.”
At some point she was going to have to admit she was moving in with Daniel, just not today. Finola’s words still stung.
“My point is,” she continued, “I’ll have plenty of time to help with your pregnancy.” She frowned. “Although I’m not sure what I could do. I guess at least offer moral support and buy you shea butter so you don’t get stretch marks.”
“Do I need shea butter?”
“I have no idea. You should probably look it up.”
Zennie reached across the box and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for getting it.”
“Of course. Mom’s going to kill you, by the way.”
“I know. That’s why I made you swear. I’m going to wait until I’m sure I’m pregnant before saying anything. I’m afraid she won’t understand at all.”
Ali grinned. “Not even a little. After years of hounding us for grandchildren, she’s finally going to get one, only you’re giving it away. I think she might have a comment or two to say about that.”
Zennie groaned. “Of that, I’m sure. But for now, you’re the only one who knows. Well, you and Bernie and Hayes.”
“Speaking of Hayes, how did you get the sperm?”
Zennie’s mouth twitched. “Really, Ali? You’ve been with a guy.”
“You didn’t have sex.” She thought for a second. “Oh no. You’re kidding. He had to do that at the doctor’s office.”
“Yup. In a separate room. I tried not to think about it while it was happening.”
Ali giggled. “I’m sure he was grateful. I know it’s really great that you can do this for them and when they have a baby, they’ll be so happy, but sometimes, science is just plain weird.”
“Tell me about it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday morning Zennie met her friends to go running in Griffith Park. The sky was clear, the air cool. Bernie had texted to say she was sleeping in and wouldn’t be joining them. Zennie felt a faint sense of relief. She knew her friend was anxious about the possibility of a pregnancy and would be watching for any signs. As it had been less than forty-eight hours, no one was even sure there was a pregnancy, let alone signs.
Zennie told herself that wasn’t fair. Of course Bernie wanted to know what was happening. They all did. It was a big deal. But the only thing they could do was wait. She was determined to put the pregnancy out of her mind as much as possible and just live her life. Somewhere between two and three weeks from now, she would take a pregnancy test and they would all know—unless she got her period first. Regardless, she was not going to dwell on the fact that she might be “with child.”
Two more cars pulled up in the mostly empty parking lot. The friends would run up in the hills, close to the observatory. The path was steep and challenging, but they’d done it before. Zennie enjoyed the change and the fact that there was more focus on running and less on conversation. For most of the circuit, they could only go single file.
Cassie, a short, plump blonde, and DeeDee, a lithe Korean with deep purple streaks in her long hair, had come together. Gina, a tall, fit brunette, got out of the second car and waved.