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“Big teddy bear,” Tristan repeated. “You know he’d go nuts for that.”
He would, Jack thought. He’d light up like it was Christmas. That was, if he was talking to Jack at all.
“I can’t fit into my wedding dress,” Mia said suddenly. “Before you get shirty, that’s not me changing the subject. My point is, the whole keeping the pregnancy thing under wraps until after the wedding? Probably not going to happen. I mean, there’s empire-line dresses, and there’s total denial, you know? And I think I’m in total denial. Last time I saw Mum I ate seven cupcakes in a row just so she thinks I’m getting fat instead. It was hilarious trying to watch her figure out a way to tell me I needed to go on a diet without body-shaming me, though. She was in knots. Anyway, I probably can’t continue to strategically hold things in front of my belly for much longer before she twigs. So what’s one more clusterfuck at the wedding? You should invite Harry. As your boyfriend.”
Jack’s heart beat faster. “Really?”
“Sure!” Mia laughed. “Why the hell not? It’s already going to be a disaster.”
“But—they’ll recognise him. And how the hell am I meant to explain that I’m dating the guy Dad threatened to have arrested if he ever saw him again?”
“I’ll tell them,” Mia said. “Trust me, after the baby bombshell, the fake boyfriend thing isn’t even going to make a dent. And, when they think about it, they’ll blame me, not Harry, but then they’ll be simultaneously shocked and thrilled by the baby news and they’ll forget about it anyway, so it’ll be fine. Dad will make his ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face, and Mum will be in a total tizzy, but then I’ll whip out the ultrasound and they’ll both be so stoked to have a grandkid on the horizon, they’ll get over it.”
“You couldn’t have thought of this weeks ago?”
“No, because my first instinct is to lie and keep lying,” Mia said. “I thought we covered that? But I could wear a tent on Sunday and I still wouldn’t be able to talk my way out of this. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but it’s like I’ve suddenly popped or something. I look like I’m trying to shoplift a Christmas pudding. And that’s without mentioning my boobs, which have gone from mangoes to rockmelons in the last week.” She hummed. “Tate’s enjoying that part, at least.”
Jack and Tristan shared a dubious look.
“Anyway, back to Harry,” Jack said. “Should I go over there? Or wait to hear?”
“You should go over there with a boombox,” Tristan said. “And stand on the footpath with it over your head. You could look all soulful and pensive.”
“I don’t have a boombox,” Jack said. “And I wouldn’t do that even if I did. That sort of thing gets you arrested in Potts Point.”
“Plus they’re right up near the top,” Tristan said thoughtfully. “You’d need to hire a window-cleaning hoist or something.”
“A cherry picker,” Mia suggested.
“I’m not hiring anything, because I’m not doing that,” Jack said. Quite apart from anything, he wasn’t great with heights and he didn’t trust Ambrose’s evil cat not to push him off the edge somehow. Or Ambrose, come to think of it. “Harry’s not into public gestures.”
Harry didn’t want a spectacle. He just wanted someone to dance with him in a dark street, or hold his hand, or kiss him at a bus stop. Buy him a sidecar and call it their special thing.
To tell him he mattered.
Tristan had been tapping furiously at his phone, but he paused. “So I’m not hiring a cherry picker?”
“No,” Jack said. “We don’t even know if he’s going to forgive me.”
“Hello, that’s why we’re hiring the cherry picker. Oooh, what about a flash mob?” Tristan waggled his phone. “You can hire an a cappella group to sing Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word or something. The drama kids at uni would probably do it for a slab of VB.”
Jack gave him a flat look.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Mia said. “After you’ve grovelled sufficiently, you’re going to invite him to the wedding and tell him you can’t wait to show him off as your boyfriend. I’ll tell Mum and Dad before the wedding, and then, before they get too hung up on me fake dating, I drop the baby news. You’ll turn up with your boy, all pretty in matching suits, and Aunt Cassie will get to crow that she knew about it before anyone else. Job done.”
“Assuming Harry will even see me.”
“Of course he’ll see you,” Mia said. “He still talked to you after you nearly killed him that time, right? Besides, he’s totally gone on you.”
“I guess.”
Jack just wished he felt as confident as Mia sounded.
An hour later, Jack hesitated at the front door of the adult shop in Enmore Road.
“They have PG stuff too,” Tristan said, tugging him through the entrance. “Come on!”
After Jack had agreed with Tristan that a massive teddy bear was a great idea, Tris had insisted they go and get one at once. Jack had said there wouldn’t be anywhere open at this hour—thinking of Big W or Target or wherever it was that people bought teddy bears—but Tristan had promised he knew a place. This wasn’t the sort of toy shop Jack had been thinking of.
