“I should’ve asked what I didn’t buy,” I said, shaking my head at her. “And why would they think we buy such great gifts? What did I buy them for their wedding?”
“A bread maker. She’s one of those stay-at-home wives, so I’m sure she appreciated it.”
“No one appreciates a bread maker.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why’d she invite us to the baby shower?”
“I have no idea. But it wasn’t because of a bread maker.”
“We’ll see. Turn left. Their house is the third on the right according to Google.”
I turned onto the private community drive and parked a few houses down from where the pink, yellow, and blue balloons were strapped to the hostess’s mailbox. I looked around the community as I climbed out of the car. The houses were grand. The yards thick with dark green landscaping. And you could almost smell the new-car smell from the shiny convertibles lining the street. “Great. Rich people.”
Aunt Suzanne’s smile was bright enough to blind someone as she handed me my offering—I mean gift bag. She hurried down the sidewalk toward the main event as if there was a door prize if you arrived on time. I shook my head, half jogging to catch up.
Five minutes later, Aunt Suzanne was in her element chatting away with women of all ages as I stood anti-social beside her and scanned the room. When I saw the very pregnant guest of honor walk into the room, I swear my heart stopped beating.
Tugging on Aunt Suzanne’s arm, I got her attention and whispered, “We have to go.”
“What? Why?” she asked with an eyebrow arched high.
“I remember the wedding.” I tried steering her from the room, but when we got to the foyer she refused to move any further, planting her feet.
“Charlie, what the hell is going on. We can’t leave. It would be rude.”
I looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear our whispered conversation. “We have to leave. I had sex with her husband.”
“You slept with a married man?”
“No. Well, yes,” I said, arguing more with myself for the right answer. “No! He wasn’t married yet.” I knew I needed to explain or she’d refuse to leave. “But he was married about fifteen minutes later.”
Her face froze in a stunned expression when she realized I’d had sex with the groom before the wedding. She sharply inhaled a gallon of air as her eyes widened.
I wrung my hands as I explained. “I thought he was a groomsman! There was a big closet off the hall… Plenty of time to kill… He was cute… I was bored…”
“Charlie Harrison,” she said leaning toward me and placing a death grip on my bicep. “You slept with the groom?”
“I didn’t mean to! I mean— I intended to have sex—I just didn’t mean for it to be the groom. You know I wouldn’t have done that on purpose.”
She stared at me, not saying anything.
“If it makes you feel any better, he fucks like a jack-rabbit.”
“Language!” she said, pointing a finger in my face.
I was relieved though to see her eyes start to dance with humor. The shock of the confession was wearing off. That is, until she looked over my shoulder and her eyes widened.
I didn’t want to look. I wanted to run out the door straight to the car. But Aunt Suzanne was in heels and I couldn’t leave her behind to clean up my mess. I slowly turned, finding a tall, primly-dressed woman in her mid-sixties smiling at me.
“Your f-bomb at the wedding when the groom and groomsmen took their places makes sense now.” Her smile widened.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was the groom. I’m not a homewrecker. I swear.”
“I believe you.”
“We should leave,” I said, taking a step back.
“Nonsense,” she said, chuckling.
Aunt Suzanne and I inhaled sharply, floored by her pleasantness.
“This is the third baby shower MaryBeth has had with Travis’s flings. When my daughter first suggested doing this, I thought she was crazy. But she’s raking in the best gifts. She’ll want for nothing by the time the baby’s born.”
Aunt Suzanne elbowed me in the ribs. “Told you we were invited because we give great gifts.”
“What was your gift for the wedding?” the woman asked as she steered Aunt Suzanne into the living room.
“A bread maker and…” Aunt Suzanne’s voice drifted off as she walked away.
The Mother-To-Be waddled over to me, her nose wrinkling as she watched the women walk away. “I have to admit, I returned the bread maker.”
“I don’t blame you. They sell perfectly good bread at the store.”
A smile lit her face. “You sticking around? Or making a run for it?”
“You’re not angry? Pissed at seeing all these women?”
“Not even a little,” she said, shaking her head. “And if I hadn’t spent every dime in my savings to buy a small house for me and the baby, I wouldn’t even be doing this. But I needed a strategy to leave Travis, and this was the best idea I could think of.”
“Does he know? That you’re leaving him?”
“Not a clue. He’s too busy cheating to even notice I’m pregnant.” She had been fake smiling toward the living room, occasionally waving, but glanced back at me and smiled for real. “He’ll be surprised when he comes home from his,” she paused to make air quotes, “business trip and finds half the furniture gone, though.”
I couldn’t help but like her. “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d take you out for martinis.”
“Stick around. These showers are a hell of a lot more fun. My grandma goes around whispering slut and then walking away. At the last shower, my aunt proposed to play a game of truth or dare, and three women bolted for the door. One of
