My Ex-Bestfriend

Sunday

I spend Saturday decompressing from the wedding. I'll use the term wedding loosely since it didn't actually happen. Luckily I am too busy with Walt's basketball tournament to analyze everything.

I relish in the thought of Mr. and Mrs. James thinking Savannah was better than me. I don't have a step brother to speak of but even if I did I am not that indecent to bang it out before I would walk down the aisle. I shudder at the thought.

It's ironic that Mrs. James thinks that due to my lack of finances I would have low moral fiber but usually it's people like Savannah. People who have been raised with everything and don't realize good character when it's staring them in the face, not that I can clump Michael in with good character anymore.

Eventually everyone would know why the wedding was called off. I can't imagine that Michael would reconsider nuptials with her but how would I know? I don't really know him like that anymore. I have doubts now if that baby is even his. I bet I am not the only one pondering that little fact too.

Sunday comes and church is a much needed spiritual renewal from the week. I always leave feeling more joyful and grateful than when I arrived. I know I haven't always had it easy in life but I am still blessed.

My mom use to drag us to church on Sunday mornings. She would stuff me into some lacey frilly garment that itched the whole service. Dad would eventually fall asleep mid sermon. Mom loved it so we went to make her happy.

After she died we didn't really see the point of it. We could have still gone in her absence but I think it would have made us miss her even more.

I remembered at my mom's funeral the people from church were so kind and endearing. Bringing us a mountain of food for weeks on end. Food didn't fill that huge hole in my heart with mom gone but it was still a nice gesture. I associated at a young age the church people equaled nice people.

So when I got accidently knocked up and single motherhood stared me down I sought guidance at the church. I was nervous when I entered. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for but they had a sign out front about unwed mothers' assistance.

I walked into the lobby where Rebecca greeted me. She had indented smile lines etched deeply on her face with flowy snow white hair. It was as if years of joy poured from her, her glee was genuine and not a scam.

She took me to the store room where they had donated maternity clothes and everything a baby could possibly need in the first year of life. I walked in the church feeling like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders but I walked out feeling like I could do it. I wasn't going to do it all on my own.

I got to know Rebecca during my pregnancy and trusted her to share my story. She was never judgemental but always encouraging and kind. She felt like a mother I never got to know in that stage of life.

Rebecca was a widow with grown kids too busy to need her so we became a family of sorts. I didn't have the perfect life but it was being rebuilt slowly. I have an amazing kiddo who is currently happily munching on a post church donut as we head home.

The drive home I start to dread Monday. Mr. Jones seemed pretty understanding of the events of Friday when I called. He knew it was outside of my control. He didn't seem disappointed that my first VIP client wedding went up in flames as I don't want it to cloud his judgement on future opportunities for me. Mr. Jones said he would contact them to discuss the recuperation of my time even though the wedding, on a technicality, didn't happen. Normally I can muster up the courage to do almost anything where money is involved but I gladly gave Mr. Jones that task.

I pull into our driveway as Walt beelines it inside to wash off his sticky donut fingers and mouth. I begin grabbing the rest of our things when out of my peripheral I see a Cadillac Escalade roll up and park in my driveway. I straighten up as my eyes see the driver.....Michael James.