Hollywood's Secret Baby

Then comes a question I should have seen coming but still manages to smack me upside the head. “Are you and dad going to get married?”

Shit.

“I really don’t know.”

“Don’t you two love each other?”

“Definitely. Yes, I mean, we do. But—”

“So why don’t you get married?”

“That’s a great question, but I don’t have an answer. To be honest, kiddo, this is all happening pretty fast. Plus, your dad’s so busy right now. Maybe when things calm down, we can talk about a wedding and all that stuff.”

“I want to be the flower girl.”

“Done.”

“And Aunt Sarah can be your Maid of Honor.”

I give her a crooked smile, not just for having my whole wedding planned out already, but for that last thing especially. “Where did you learn that word?”

“I’ve been watching a show at night. It’s an old show but it’s kind of funny.”

“What’s it called?”

She hesitates, grimacing like she knows that she’s about to be yelled at. Then, in a tiny voice, she says, “Sex and the City?”

I’ve been a terrible, horrible mother.

This is definitely something we need to talk about, because it is not proper viewing material for a ten-year-old, but I need to stay on the topic.

“Are you really okay with staying here?”

“If Aunt Sarah’s okay with it.”

It takes me two seconds to get why she would say this, but then it clicks. “We’re not going to live in Aunt Sarah’s guesthouse forever. I meant here, in California.”

Another shrug. “I guess.” Then she thinks for a second and says, “Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

“What if I have a stomach ache tomorrow at school? Will you come pick me up?”

“Of course,” I say and wrap her up in a huge hug. “And if we manage to eat half of this, I think we're both going to be dying tomorrow. But that’s not going to stop me from trying.”

Grabbing a box of stir-fried rice, I start flipping through channels on the TV until we hit on the cartoon channel that Lizzie should be watching instead of Carrie and Mr. Big. And to my relief, Lizzie starts eating.

That’s one crisis averted.

While Lizzie leans forward as animated unicorns prance across the TV screen, my eyes glaze over. And I find myself thinking more and more about what she asked me earlier.

Are Cory and I going to get married?

I don't know, but the more I imagine the life that could come after Lizzie tosses out flower petals, and both Cory and I say, ‘I do’, I know one thing for sure:

It certainly doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

Chapter 29