Classified (The Godmothers) Part 18

Jamie and Lucy had insisted on making the wedding cake. Of course, Toots agreed. It was a surprise gift from the girls. She'd seen it this morning when Jamie delivered it. Sophie had been forbidden to enter the kitchen until the cake was out of sight. It was a fantastic cake. Naturally, Jamie insisted on making Goebel a groom's cake, and it, too, reflected his personality.

As they'd practiced, they waited at the bottom of the stairs. Toots was the maid of honor, and Ida and Mavis acted as bridesmaids. Sophie refused to make them wear traditional gowns, so they spent an afternoon shopping for dresses. They all agreed on something peachy, but it didn't have to match; nor did the designs have to be the same. Sophie was as unique as they came and deserved a one-of-a-kind wedding. Ida sprang for the peach shoes, but Toots and Mavis opted for taupe-colored sandals.

And now, with nothing left to do, Toots gave the signal to the pianist and violinist. "Close to You," performed by The Carpenters, was one of Sophie's favorite songs when they were young. Toots thought it appropriate that this should be the first song played.

Sophie raised her eyebrow at Toots, surprised by the music. "Shhh, it's my gift to you."

Sophie nodded and tried not to cry. This was too perfect a day, nothing like her last marriage. She quickly shoved those thoughts aside, as she didn't want any bad memories to touch the magic of her and Goebel's day.

Ida followed Toots down the path to the archway. Then came Mavis. Sophie blinked back tears, and as soon as Mavis took her place next to Ida, the traditional version of the bridal march echoed softly through the garden as Sophie made her way down the path to meet and commit herself to the man of her dreams.

When she reached the archway, the tears flowed, and she didn't try to stop them. Goebel, dressed in a light gray suit, with a peach silk s.h.i.+rt, looked handsome and debonair. His eyes were moist when he gazed into hers. "You look beautiful," he said.

Music continued in the background while the justice of the peace read the vows that Sophie and Goebel wanted. Simple, and sweet, filled with love. Sophie gave Goebel a simple gold band; he placed a matching band on her hand. Then the justice of the peace said, "I now p.r.o.nounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Everyone clapped when Goebel dipped Sophie, then brought her up for a long, pa.s.sionate kiss.

"May I present Mr. and Mrs. Goebel Blevins," announced the justice.

Again, they all clapped and threw birdseed as they retraced their footsteps up the path and inside the formal living room, where Toots had had all the furniture removed and small tables, with peach-colored tablecloths, placed strategically, allowing half of the room to act as a stage and dance floor. The pianist and violinist were for the ceremony only. Toots had hired one of the best local bands in Charleston to entertain them. They played 1960s rock and everything in between. Sophie would love them.

For the next three hours, they danced until their clothes clung to them. The men ripped off their ties; the women tossed their shoes. The champagne flowed freely. Goebel and Sophie were excellent dancers. They bopped to Marvin Gaye's "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," and Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Proud Mary," then slowed down to the s.e.xy, soulful tunes of Al Green. The band, The Mimics, did just that. The music was excellent and enjoyed by all.

Bernice and Robert danced to Wilson Pickett's "In the Midnight Hour"; Mavis and Wade tore a rug to Martha and the Vandellas' "Dancing in the Street." Toots and Phil swayed to Sam Cooke's "Bring It on Home to Me." Abby and Chris took their turn dancing to Lady Gaga, The Beatles, and some songs that only they knew the names of. Jamie and Lucy alternated dancing with Daniel and Chris. Ida wrapped herself around Goebel more than once, but Sophie didn't say a word. He was her husband, and Ida could flirt all she wanted. Actually, Sophie told Toots she thought it a bit flattering that a woman as hot as Ida showed an interest in Goebel. She made Toots swear on her t.i.ts that she would never repeat those words to Ida. If so, Ida's head would swell to the size of the Goodyear Blimp.

When Jamie brought the cake out, Sophie cried. It was an exact replica of her and Goebel's house, minus the purple. Lucy had painstakingly decorated it right down to the last detail. No, it wasn't a traditional wedding cake, but Sophie was anything but traditional. She didn't want to cut the cake when it came time, but Jamie promised to make another just like it when they finished the renovations.

As the evening wore on, and everyone started to wind down, Sophie dragged Toots outside for a smoke. "Toots, I don't know how to thank you. This is simply the best night of my life. Well, almost. I'll have to wait and see how Goebel performs tonight."

Toots lit the smokes, handing one to Sophie. "I don't want to hear those details. I just want you to be happy, Soph. Goebel's a good man. You're very, very lucky."

Sophie took a long drag from her cigarette. "I am, and so are you. Phil's running neck and neck with Goebel. You know that, right?"

Toots smiled. "I do."

"When are you gonna say those words to Phil? Have you decided?"

"No, not yet. There's no rush. I don't want to make any drastic decisions until Abby has the baby. After that, well, I promise to think about it. Phil started his outline for his novel. You should have seen the way his face lit up when he was telling me the plot. I have a sneaking feeling he's going to be successful in his new career. How about it, Soph? Any insight into our future?"

Sophie sighed. "You really want to know?"

"Yes, but not if it's bad. I've had way too much bad in the man department."

She took Toots's hand and held it for a few minutes, then squeezed it before letting go. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

Did she really want to know what her future held? A little, maybe. "Just a little bit of the highlights, the good stuff."

Sophie lit her second cigarette off the first. "I can tell you this and be one hundred percent sure. Phil Becker is the next Robin Cook, only better."

"No s.h.i.+t?"

"No s.h.i.+t. Promise me you won't tell him, Toots?"

"Why not?"

"If he knows, he won't be hungry. A writer has to be hungry, and the only thing that can feed his hunger is publis.h.i.+ng a book. If Phil knows he's going to be successful going in, the drive and hunger won't be there to push him to write the best book he can. So don't tell him, or it might not happen."

"You're really seeing his future? Or are you just telling me what I want to hear?" Toots asked, and lit another cigarette.

"When have you ever known me to do that? In a psychic way."

Toots thought for a moment. "Never."

"Then there is your answer."

"It'll be hard not to tell him, but I don't want to ruin his chance for success. Anything else you see that I should know about? Anything good?"

Sophie grinned. "Toots, you're about to have more good than one person deserves. Now, I have a husband who's probably tired and h.o.r.n.y. I can't thank you enough for making this day so special. You're a good egg, but you know that already."

They both stood up; but before they went back inside to join the others in the winding-down celebration, Sophie and Toots hugged each other. Then they both cried tears of happiness. When they were finished, they blew their noses on the hem of Toots's peach skirt.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaner," Sophie said.

Toots rolled her eyes, and they wrapped their arms around each other's waist, like they used to when they were in high school.

After everyone offered up best wishes and congratulations, Goebel took his bride home. Chris and Abby had a doctor's appointment the next day. Wade and Mavis were supervising the sign for their new funeral parlor, and Bernice and Robert planned to spend the day at 3Ds.

Ida hadn't shared her plans, but everyone knew she and Daniel would probably spend the day s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g in Bernice's house, which Daniel had moved into.

And that, in summary, was Sophie's wedding day.

Chapter 29.

Six weeks later Today Abby was having her second ultrasound. Because Chris was so excited, he couldn't stop pacing.

"Look, Chris, if you don't stop, you're going to wear holes in this antique rug."

Abby finished blow-drying her hair. She was beyond excited. The last time they'd tried to do the ultrasound, there was a glitch with the machine. Abby had been so upset, she cried. She was almost six months pregnant, and she'd yet to have the pleasure of seeing her son or daughter inside her womb.

She and Chris both decided last night they would ask the doctor to tell them the s.e.x of the child. Both were betting on a boy, since Abby had blown up like a house in the past few weeks. Given that the baby kicked so much and so hard, she and Chris were sure she was carrying a future star quarterback in the NFL.

"Wanna bet on the s.e.x?" Chris asked Abby as she applied her makeup.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm serious."

"What's the payoff?" Abby asked.

"I don't know. Give me a minute to think of something . . . good," Chris teased.

Abby knew he was referring to something s.e.xual. "As long as it doesn't involve taking off my clothes."

"s.h.i.+t, you're no fun. I was going to say the winner gets to spend an entire day in bed with the loser. But since you say no taking off clothes, I guess I'll have to come up with something else."

Abby finished her makeup. "And how, exactly, does that make the winner come out on top of the loser? Whoops, strike that question. Well, I'm sure you can come up with something equally enticing, Mr. Clay. Now, if you want to see this football player, we'd better get going. I don't want to be late. Remember, today is the grand opening for The Canine and Feline Cafe. I can't wait to see the place. Mom hasn't been too forthcoming with the details."

"She wants to surprise you," Chris said as they headed downstairs.

"I'm sure she does," Abby agreed.

They drove Abby's MINI Cooper, since Chris's new Jeep was in the shop for a recall repair.

Abby had chosen a female OB-GYN because she felt more comfortable with a woman who'd actually given birth. Dr. Logan had four children, so Abby felt confident she would be a compa.s.sionate doctor. She'd liked her immediately, and so had Chris. She was in her late forties, a graduate of Harvard Medical School. Abby wanted her baby to have the best care possible, and Dr. Logan fit the bill.

Her office was in downtown Charleston. Early afternoon, they had no trouble being stuck in traffic. When she'd moved back to Charleston, Abby had soon learned that the traffic had its moments here as much as it did in Los Angeles. To the good, the traffic jams didn't last as long here.

Chris found a nearby parking spot, and Abby was thankful. July in the South was hot and muggy. That part she did not like, and the summer months were when she missed living in Los Angeles the most. The weather was perfect there, year-round. But as her mother always said, "It is what it is." She suddenly had a flashback of that hot, claustrophobic closet in South Central LA. No, she'd live with the humidity.

A gush of cool air greeted them when they entered the Logan Professional Building. Abby sighed with relief. The air conditioner in the MINI Cooper needed to be recharged or something because it wasn't cooling as well as it used to. And that was another thing. She wanted to get a larger vehicle before she had the baby. Chester sat in the front, and there wasn't room in the back for an infant seat, so a new car was in order. Chester would understand. She smiled at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Chris asked as they entered Dr. Logan's office.

"I was thinking about getting a new car. Somehow, I don't think Chester will mind, as long as he has his treats. I always kept treats in the trunk when I was working. I never knew how long I'd be on a star stakeout. Chester was such a good sport. Do you think he'll be okay once the baby arrives?"

"As long as you do what Dr. Wright suggested, I'm sure Chester will do just fine with the baby."

"I'm sure he knows what he's talking about."

Abby had asked Dr. Wright what to do to prevent Chester from being jealous when the baby arrived. He'd advised her and Chris to let Chester be a part of everything, as though he were a sibling. Only, instead of showing him the baby's things, Abby should let him smell things, let him get the scent of all the new "toys" they were bringing home. Once the baby arrived, Chester would only have to get used to his or her scent, having already been introduced to the other possessions.

Once they were inside the office, Abby signed the sheet. The waiting room was packed, and she had a feeling she and Chris were going to be here longer than they'd antic.i.p.ated. She prayed that the ultrasound machine didn't fail this time. She and Chris were so excited. She could feel the baby move all the time now. Her stomach would stretch as though she had a box of Mexican jumping beans inside her. She didn't mind; she really wanted to enjoy every minute of her pregnancy: the good and the bad. The nausea had pa.s.sed. That part she would have willingly done without, but now she felt like a new and improved version of her LA self. She ate three meals a day. She tried to get as much sleep as she could, and she and Chris had started taking Chester to her mother's house in the evening. She got her exercise; Chester and Chris got theirs. Plus, she was kept in the loop on her mother's and G.o.dmothers' comings and goings. And it was nice to have a married couple living in what used to be the purple house. Life was good, she thought as she flipped through a copy of Parents magazine.

"Abby Clay," the nurse called.

She looked at Chris. "That's me. Come on, let's go see our son, the quarterback."

The nurse wore scrubs with storks flying in the air, holding a blanket with a baby in it. Abby couldn't help but laugh. "The storks get 'em every time," the nurse said.

"I'll bet it does," Chris commented.

"I'm surprised we didn't have to wait longer," Abby said as they followed the nurse through a maze of hallways.

"You're here for the ultrasound. We do that in another part of the office. Dr. Logan's partner is in today, so you lucked out."

Dr. Logan's partner was her husband. And that was all well and good, but Abby would stick with the wife.

"I guess so," she remarked, for lack of anything better to say. She looked at Chris and made a face.

"Okay, here we are."

They entered a small, dark room. There were no windows, no decorations; just a countertop with a bottle of gel and a stack of paper towels. A single cabinet hung above the counter. To her right was a long table with the ultrasound machine positioned off to the side.

"If you'll remove your top, we can get started."

Abby looked over at Chris, who stood by the door. "I promise not to stare," he said to break the moment of awkwardness.

"You can put this on until the doctor gets here. The room is cold because of the heat the machine puts out." Abby did think the temperature on the chilly side. She took the paper top and placed it on the table. Turning her back to Chris and the nurse, who seemed to stare excessively, Abby unb.u.t.toned her cotton blouse and wrapped the paper top around her before climbing on the examining table. "Chris, come here and sit with me." Abby scooted over close to the wall to make room for him.

"You're not allowed to sit there," the nurse told them.

"I'm going to sit here with my wife until Dr. Logan arrives. When she tells me to get up, I will."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off as bossy." The nurse stepped out of the room, allowing them a few minutes of privacy.

"I don't like her," Abby said. "I'm going to tell Dr. Logan to make sure I don't have to see her on my next visit. She's nosy, and I caught her staring at my b.o.o.bs."

"Hey, I was staring at your b.o.o.bs, too. Nice rack," Chris teased, knowing how much Abby disliked the term rack when referencing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Thankfully, Dr. Logan made her appearance. "Sorry to keep you folks waiting. I had a little emergency I had to take care of. Now let's get started." The doctor pulled Abby's medical chart from a holder on the door. "Ann, you can go now. Dr. Logan needs you in the lab."

"Uh, sure," they heard her say from her position out in the small hallway.

"She's new," Dr. Logan said to explain her odd behavior.

She flipped through Abby's file, made a notation, and then placed it on the countertop.

"Okay, Mr. Clay, you can sit in this chair here." She pulled a rolling stool out from beneath the counter. "You'll want to sit so you can see everything we're doing. Abby, go ahead and remove your paper outfit, and we'll get started.

"I'm going to rub this gel on your belly. It's warm now. Used to be icy cold, but someone thought to invent a way to heat the stuff without destroying its purpose. Most likely, it was a woman," Dr. Logan said, grinning. She rubbed the warm gel all over Abby's belly, top to bottom and side to side. "Okay, now I'm going to use this." She held up the transducer probe. "This part sends and receives the sound waves and receives the echoes. It's kind of like the eyes and ears of the machine. I won't go into all the mechanics, but it's pretty simple. I'm going to push a little so we can get a clear image. You tell me if I'm pus.h.i.+ng too hard or if you need to stop." Dr. Logan used her left hand to type on the keyboard; with her right hand, she ran the transducer across Abby's belly.

Anxious, Abby asked, "What's that beeping sound?"

"It's just the machine doing its job. There's nothing to be alarmed about. Try to relax."

Abby nodded. She was anything but relaxed. She gave Chris a nervous smile.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm right here."

She nodded, letting him know she heard him.

"Okay, now comes the fun part." Dr. Logan moved the transducer slowly, with a bit more pressure.