The M Word Read Free Page B

or without her hair.
    Which made Brenda want to cry. She couldn’t
imagine anyone being a better friend than Kelly.
    The wedding itself, was solemn and beautiful.
Brenda sat staring down at her pink satin bridesmaid dress,
listening to the words of the minister, wishing she still believed
in marriage.
    Or the M-word, as one of her prior boyfriends
had labeled it.
    As far as she could tell, marriage was a
gamble, with lousy odds of success.
    But if she gave up on marriage, that would
rule out having children, too, because she did not want to be a
single parent.
    And she still wanted a baby.
    Be a mom.
    When she was younger, she’d dreamed about
having half a dozen children and a rich, gorgeous husband who loved
her madly, passionately, desperately.
    Right now, she’d settle for one baby and a
man who treated her with respect. Someone honest and reliable.
Kind.
    She glanced at Lars as he escorted Kelly from
the church. Men like him were rare, and they wanted someone like
Kelly: not the wisecracking bald girl.
    A hundred years ago, she could have paid a
matchmaker to find her a suitable husband.
    She wondered if arranged marriages lasted any
longer than romantic ones.
    Probably not. But if a person didn’t expect
moonlight and roses, was it easier to be happy?
    Somehow she made it through the wedding
luncheon and later, the reception. The dinner was tasty, and her
lack of hair seemed to make a difference: only three guys tried to
hit on her. She should have gone bald years ago. Finally it was
time for the throwing of the bouquet.
    It was a barbaric, nonsensical, superstitious
custom, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by not
participating. So she arranged the train of Kelly’s wedding dress
for the photos, then joined the rest of the unmarried female
guests.
    She stood over to one side of the throng,
hoping that the bouquet would land somewhere else.
    Kelly flung the bouquet of roses over her
shoulder. It sailed through the air in an arc, and instead of
stepping out of the way, as she had planned, Brenda suddenly
reached up to grab it. For once her height and longer arms were an
advantage.
    For a second, Brenda stared at the flowers in
disbelief, amazed by her involuntary reaction. At some deep
subconscious level, did she still want to get married?
    The crowd clapped. She couldn’t drop it like
a bomb, so instead she waved the bouquet triumphantly above her
head, making people in the crowd smile. She heard the click of the
photographer’s camera. She saw Kelly smiling at her with raised
eyebrows as if to say, You’re next? Her eyes brimmed with
amusement.
    When hell freezes over , she thought in
response.
    Then she thought of Marius Jaworski.
    #
    She took Monday off as a personal holiday and
bought two long, blonde haired wigs. Brenda didn’t think she’d
actually lose her job if she came to work with no hair, but she
didn’t want everyone asking questions, laughing at her behind her
back or worse: feeling sorry for her.
    She still had some pride left, although it
was seriously faltering.
    She worried about what would happen when
Steven was back in Dallas, camping out on her doorstep. He was
currently out of town on a long trial -- that’s why she’d been able
to break up with him.
    She hoped she’d have the strength to turn him
away when she saw him face to face.
    As she worked, she kept an eye on the front
door, looking for Marius Jaworski every time the bells jingled.
    But he didn’t come to the bank for more than
a week.
    Finally, late one night, at home, she looked
him up on Google. It took less than twenty minutes to find his
phone number. Brenda was amazed and appalled.
    She didn’t want to know how much information
there was about herself floating around on the internet.
    For a few minutes she stared at the ten
digits, debating. Then she dialed.
    It rang four times. Five. No voice mail? She
was about to hang up, when he answered. “Hello?” His voice was
husky, as if he had just woken