Fortuity (Transcend 3)
“Have fun,” Mom smiles.
She and Dad offered to take Gabe on a two-week vacation this summer—road trip up to Seattle. I couldn’t get two weeks off, but I’m taking my one week of paid vacation and going to Chicago for a friend’s wedding. I haven’t seen her since high school, but we’ve kept in touch on social media. This is her first marriage. I guess I’m not the only person who didn’t get hitched and pop out two kids before thirty.
“It’s my first time in Chicago. I’ll definitely have fun.”
“Don’t get mugged.”
“Thanks, Mom. Good tip.”
“Ready?” Dad comes inside after loading Gabe’s stuff into the SUV they rented.
“Bye.” I give my parents hugs.
“Have a safe trip.” Mr. Hans ruffles Gabe’s hair.
I put on a brave face. He’s with my parents. He couldn’t be in better hands, except mine. Yes, I’ve gone from the hormonal mess who thought I had no business raising a child, to a mama bear. Still hormonal.
“What time is your flight?” Mr. Hans asks when I close the door.
“Four hours. I’d better finish packing.” I grin.
“That looks nice on you.”
I stop halfway up the stairs. “What does?”
“Excitement. I haven’t seen that in your eyes in many months.”
“I need this trip. It feels good.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The wedding scene is nothing new to me. By forty-two, I’ve been to countless weddings. I’d say “always a bridesmaid,” but that’s not true. I’ve worn the big white gown once. Overrated?
Sadly … no.
It was the most exhilarating, special day of my life—until it wasn’t.
One day.
For one day I felt like a princess. I had no idea feeling like a princess was a secret desire of mine until I had my hair and makeup done, legs shaved, girl parts waxed, manicure, pedicure, and a big white dress fitted perfectly to my body.
Veil.
The pendant from Michael.
A church full of family and friends looking on adoringly. A man waiting at the front of the church with so much love in his eyes, like he had never seen anything so beautiful.
It was a dream.
Surreal.
The wedding is tomorrow in Grant Park. The reception is at the hotel where I’m staying. Today … I’m shopping for a new dress to wear. Nothing flashy. It’s Danni’s and Aaron’s day. I just want to find something that makes me feel like I’m twenty-five with endless possibilities, not forty-two with seven more years before I file for official cat lady status.
After checking into my hotel, I scour The Magnificent Mile, popping in and out of boutiques, waiting for something to catch my eye. Finally, a blushing pink off-the-shoulder, tea-length chiffon lace dress jumps out at me.
I try it on. It not only fits, it makes me feel a little more beautiful, which says a lot since I’m without makeup and my now longer hair is pulled into a high ponytail. I brush my fingertips over the beaded sequin bodice and sweetheart neckline. I pair it with three-inch silver caged heels, a mani-pedi, and an iced coffee as I stroll through the bustling streets back to my hotel.
After dropping off my dress and shoes at my room, I go down to one of the hotel’s three bars and order a glass of red wine.
“Let me get that. And I’ll have a whisky neat.”
I glance over at the familiar face taking a seat on the barstool next to me. I point my finger at him and grin.
“Steve.”
“Steve!” I slap my hand on the bar. “It was on the tip of my tongue.”
Dark-haired, dimply smiled Steve eases his tall body onto the stool next to me. “Well, it’s only been twenty-four years.”
I laugh. “True. Marks … Steve Marks.”
“Aw … you do remember.”
“Some days I remember better than other days.” I take a sip of my wine as soon as the bartender finishes pouring it.
“Danni’s and Aaron’s wedding?”
“Yes. I married Danni’s younger sister. We’re divorced now, but we remained friends. Our daughter, Kelsey, is the flower girl, so I got a pity invite to watch her walk down the aisle and throw petals.”
“That’s …”
“Weird?”
“No.” I grin. “Refreshing. Most divorces don’t end so well.”
“How about you? Are you married? I don’t recall seeing you at any of the class reunions.”
“I went to the first one. Me and three other people. So I passed on all the other ones.”
“Makes sense now. I missed the first one but made it to the others. So … are you married?”
Swallowing. I shake my head. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to dodge that question. No. Not married.”
“Children?”
I start to shake my head but stop myself. “Yes. A boy. He’s eleven.”
“Is he with his dad?”
I drum my French manicured nails on the bar and stare at them. “No. It’s complicated.”
“Sorry. Not prying. Just making conversation.”
“It’s fine.” I glance up and smile.
Steve was the popular kid in school, who didn’t realize that all the girls liked him. He played and excelled at every sport.