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“Jesus, these shoes,” Mia said as Jack tugged Harry down the aisle behind Tate. “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting my ankles to swell up this much.”
“Language, Mia!” Mum exclaimed.
“Look on the bright side, at least you’re past the morning sickness!” Tate said brightly, right before his shoulders tensed. “Aw, fuck.”
“Mia?” Mum demanded.
Mia shrugged, one hand resting on the small but definite swell of her stomach. Mum froze for a second, eyes widening, and promptly burst into tears.
All in all, Jack reflected later, the service had gone pretty well. Mum had sobbed into her hanky through most of it, but some mothers did that, and Dad had managed to forget the words to the blessing—twice—because he’d kept staring at Mia’s belly instead. Still, at least not many people were fixated on Jack’s terrible peacock suit, so there was that. And Harry had held his hand throughout the entire service, smiling when they fumbled awkwardly with hymnals and programs because neither of them was willing to let go.
Afterwards, the members of the congregation who’d stayed for the wedding had lingered, probably hoping to witness another scene, and Jack couldn’t really blame them. It was probably the most exciting thing to happen in Goulburn this year—hell, this decade. But all that had happened was that his dad had come over and actually shaken Harry’s hand and introduced himself and said that given the circumstances, maybe they could have a fresh start. The wide smile on Harry’s face at that had made wearing the peacock suit worth it, as far as Jack was concerned—even if the photographer had taken far too many pictures of him in it.
The reception was held at the church hall at Saint John’s, a space familiar enough to Jack throughout his childhood that it might as well have been a second home. The Ladies’ Auxiliary had transformed the space with decorations and tables covered in ivory cloths, and the wedding guests sat down to a morning tea of scones, cakes, and finger sandwiches. Neither Mia nor Tate had wanted a lavish reception.
“We told Mum and Dad it was because we’re saving to go travelling,” Mia said, shoving a scone in her mouth. “But really who can afford two hundred dollars a plate when you’re trying to set up a nursery?” She elbowed him. “Love the suit, by the way.”
“It’s Harry’s,” Jack said. “He had a wardrobe malfunction, so we swapped.”
He looked around for Harry and found him over in the corner of the hall, crouching down and chatting with a couple of toddlers. He grinned. Of course he was. The toddlers were enchanted, and Jack couldn’t blame them.
“He, ah, he seems very good with children.”
Jack hadn’t even noticed Mum sidling up to him. He nodded. “He’s going to be a preschool teacher when he graduates.”
Her expression softened at that, just like he’d known it would. Kids were Mum’s kryptonite. Harry being a preschool teacher would win him a lot of points. And hell, even if Mum was still feeling a little bruised and fragile after finding out about Mia, Jack knew that in a week or two the giddy anticipation of having a grandbaby on the way would outstrip her hurt at being kept in the dark.
“So, explain it to me, Jack. Why does he date other people? Is this—?” He could see Mum choosing her words carefully. “Is it one of those open relationships like people in Hollywood have? With orgies and the like?”
Mia almost choked on her scone.
“No!” Jack rolled his eyes. “He pretends to date people, Mum. He doesn’t sleep with them!”
“And a good thing too!” Mum said staunchly. “But he shouldn’t even be dating them.”
Jack bit his lip so he didn’t laugh. “No, I mean he doesn’t date them at all. He’s like…an actor, I guess. Sometimes people need to pretend they’re dating a really terrible person, for lots of reasons. Harry helps them out.”
Mum pursed her lips in thought. “I’m not sure I understand. But as long as there aren’t any threesomes.”
It was Jack’s turn to choke on his scone.
“Jesus, Mum,” Mia said. “I can’t believe you actually thought Harry would do that. That’d mean me and Jack had both slept with the same guy, you know?”
Mum huffed. “Well that’s what I was afraid of, Mia!”
“Where do you come up with this stuff, Mum?” Jack asked with a sigh.
“I’m not an innocent, Jack,” his mother said. She lowered her voice and leaned in close. “I’ve learned all sorts of things. Sex things. I’ve been watching Louis Theroux.”
Jack winced at the thought.
“Oh, hey,” Mia said. “Is that Aunt Cassie? I need to talk to her.” She rushed away like the coward she was, leaving Jack alone with Mum.
Great.
“Please don’t tell me about the sex things you learned from the ABC, Mum. Please.” To distract her, he said, “I bet you can’t wait to start buying cute things for the baby.”
Crisis averted. Mum perked up and was suddenly digging for a pen and notebook in her handbag, making a list of everything Mia and Tate would need to set up their nursery.
