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“What’s wrong? You look green.” Iris’s worried eyes met Callie’s in the mirror. Ugh. The nausea should have passed by now. Morning sickness at two in the afternoon was unacceptable. But then her queasy stomach might have had less to do with her pregnancy and more to do with her upcoming nuptials. “I think I’m going to be sick again.” The train of her wedding dress clutched in her hand, Callie bolted for the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she eyed the toilet and contemplated kneeling on the floor, but doing so in a white, voluminous dress was asking for trouble. It could get dirty or wrinkled, and she didn’t need the extra stress. Instead, she put a protective hand over the plunging neckline and leaned over the sink, trying to purge the swirling sensation from her gut. Nothing came up, only painful dry heaves. “Are you okay in there?” Iris knocked on the door. “Can I help? Do you want me to call Donald?” “No. Just give me a minute,” Callie called out. The last thing she needed was for her father to freak out. The man couldn’t deal with anything female related. She still remembered his reaction to her first period. It was good that the supermarket had been walking distance from their house. There was no way her father would have survived buying her tampons. It was a freaking miracle that man had managed to raise a daughter on his own since she was a tiny toddler. Another knock. “Callie, let me in. I can at least hold your hair back while you puke,” Iris pleaded. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” Gah. The woman was so irritating. Iris meant well, but she was too young to play mother of the bride. A big sister, maybe, but not really. Less than a year ago, when her father had finally remarried, Callie had been genuinely happy and excited to welcome Iris into their lives, even though the woman was only eleven years older than Callie and thirteen years younger than Donald. Iris was chatty and smiley and filled their quiet home with life. Callie had hoped for a sisterly relationship with her new stepmother, but things hadn’t worked out that way. Though not for lack of trying on both sides. They were just two very different people. The only thing they had in common was their love for her father. Iris made Donald happy. Before she’d tumbled into his life, he had rarely smiled, which made Callie wonder whether he’d been a happier man when her mother was still alive. Getting him to talk about her was impossible. It made him too sad. But the many pictures and few home movies told a story of a perfectly normal little family, with two doting parents and a chubby baby girl whom they’d seemed to adore. Callie sighed and leaned her forehead against the cool mirror. One tragic moment had shattered their family forever, taking away her mother from them and leaving Donald a broken, sad man to raise a daughter on his own. “Callie, are you okay?” Her father’s voice. Damn it, Iris. She’d told her not to bother him. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a moment.” If she could work magic, she would’ve gotten rid of them both, sent them to mingle with the guests and let her breathe for a few moments, but the best she could do was get rid of at least one. Temporarily. “Can either of you bring me a coke?” “Sure thing.” Her father jumped at the opportunity to be useful doing something other than dealing with his daughter’s prenuptial jitters. Or worse, her pregnancy nausea. Callie waited another moment before opening the door. “Feeling better?” Iris asked. She forced a smile. “Much. Can you do me a favor and bring me some saltines from the kitchen?” Iris patted her arm. “That’s a splendid idea. Saltines work miracles on nausea.” She rushed to the kitchen, or rather attempted to. Hindered by her spiky heels and long tight dress, it was more of a waddle than a fast walk. Alone at last, Callie sat down in front of her vanity and picked up the pink lipstick, hoping the bright color would help offset the green hue of her skin. Pregnancy should have made her glow with health, not look pale and sickly. Except, that was likely true for those overjoyed by the prospect of motherhood, not those tricked into it at nineteen. Too young. She hadn’t done anything with her life yet. No regrets, Callie. It was the mantra she’d adopted after the shock of discovering she was pregnant had worn off. It was all happening a little sooner than she would’ve preferred, but she was going to make it work. Her life was going to be great. She was going to build a cozy home for her sweet, adorable baby and loving husband.
