“Do you think she deliberately waited until I was going to be fourteen months pregnant to schedule this wedding?” Trixie grumbled as she turned on a pedestal while Honey pinned her purple dress.

“No, and you’re not a camel.”

Trixie frowned and looked down at the top of Honey’s head. “What are you talking about?  I never said I was a camel.  A whale, maybe.  Or even a hippo.  But I never mentioned a camel.  Why did you say I wasn’t a camel?”

Mr. Lynch had spared no expense on Diana’s wedding; however, not even the exclusive designer wedding shop in Manhattan had been able to do much to improve the maternity version of Trixie’s dress. Diana’s enthusiasm that all her bridesmaids wear the same dress had almost become an obsession.    Trixie suggested she step down as a bridesmaid because her pregnancy would make fitting the dress problematic.  Diana’s obvious disappointment with this solution culminated in a teary scene at the bridal shop, where Trixie immediately agreed to remain part of the wedding party.  Honey stepped in and tactfully suggested she work with the dress. 

Honey was intent on pinning the difficult mermaid skirt of Trixie’s dress.  She stabbed the last pin in with a triumphant shout and then leaned back on her heels, studying her sister-in-law with a critical eye.  “Camels are the only animal I know with a 14-month gestation period. A whale is only twelve months and a hippo….” Honey’s voice trailed off before she grinned up at her friend. “Trix, you might wish you were a hippopotamus before this is over.”

“Why is that, Madame Zookeeper?”  Trixie’s eyes narrowed as she looked into Honey’s mirthful face.

“A hippo only has an eight month gestation period,” Honey replied with a giggle.

  Trixie groaned.  “Great, I’m the size of a land barge, I’m fourteen months preggers, and now you’ve got me wishing I was a hippo!  I’m going to be even bigger in another week.”

“Trixie, you’re not due for another month.  We’ve all heard Brian tell you at least half-a-dozen times that you should expect this baby to be late.  Now put a sock in it, I need you to twirl around.”

Trixie slowly turned as Honey eyed the length of the dress.  “I can barely turn in this dress!” she wailed, turning in an awkward robotic motion.  “It’s hard enough to walk gracefully when you’re as pregnant as a hippopotamus, but I’m not sure I can even walk at all.”  Trixie stumbled and Honey quickly reached out a steadying hand.  “See what I mean?  This will be ten times worse than Tom and Celia’s wedding when I managed to salaam everyone so gracefully as an orange.  I do not want a repeat of that performance.  There would be no way to stop me.  Not even Jim could help me.  I’d roll straight down the aisle and take out you and all the other bridesmaids with you.  It would be like a bowling ball heading down the alley.  A perfect strike.”

Honey laughed.  “Stop it, Trixie!  You saw me stumble when I tried on my own dress.  I don’t know how Diana expects us to get around on her wedding day when our knees are locked together.  You’re just going to have to remember to take tiny little mincing steps.”

Trixie groaned.  “I’ll be the first bridesmaid in the history of weddings that waddles like a penguin all the way down the aisle.” 

Honey bit her tongue, because the dress was pinned perfectly and Trixie’s unnatural turning did resemble a penguin’s waddle. The problem was basic.  There was no way to make her friend look any less pregnant in the two weeks left before Diana’s wedding. 

“Well?” Trixie asked.  “How bad is it?”

“You look lovely,” Honey lied.

“Oh?”  A sandy eyebrow arched as Trixie glared at her best friend.  “If it looks so lovely, then why won’t you uncover the mirror?”

“You don’t really want to look, do you?”  Honey chewed anxiously on her bottom lip.  She knew if Trixie got a look at just how hideous she appeared in the dress, she would probably start singing the words to the Purple People Eater song that had been going through her brain ever since Trixie put the dress on her swollen frame.

“Honey!” Trixie wailed.  “You’re my best friend in the entire world.  If I can’t count on you to tell me the truth about how bad this dress looks, then who will tell me?  We both know Jim will lie through his teeth about it.  Even Mart with his lovey-dovey cow eyes will just smile and say it’s nice because his sweet little cupcake picked it out.  Brian will find some way to diplomatically compliment me on my hair or my skin or even my stupid shoes.”  Trixie clutched her curls and continued.  “And my mother!  My very own mother will just smile and say that the mermaid style is fashionable!” Her eyes narrowed.  “Bobby will tell me I look like Barney the dinosaur, but he’d tell me that no matter what the style of the dress.  Dan probably would say the same.  So, out with it!  How bad is it?”

Honey sat back and groaned.  “Trixie if it looked any worse, I’d force Brian to hospitalize you for some trumped up baby complication.  It’s hideous.”

“Let me see!” 

Trixie jumped from the short pedestal with an agility that belied her third trimester condition and stomped across the room with no sign of any kind of waddle.   Honey cringed as she saw the seams of the dress strain with each step. 

When Trixie reached the floor length mirror in the corner of Honey’s old room, she gave the snowy white towel that Honey had hung there a decided yank.  Glaring at her reflection, she shrieked in dismay.

“Honey!  You have to do something.  I look like Ursula the Sea Witch, not a freaking mermaid.”

Honey bit back a laugh.

Trixie turned and glared at her friend.  “I saw that!  It isn’t funny.  This is horrible.  I’m a planet and not the little one either.  I’m going to be creating my own gravity any moment now.  Honey, please!  You have to do something.”

Honey shook her head.  “Trixie, it’s not you.  It’s the dress.  Even I look dreadful in the dress.  But what can we do?  You were there when she was picking them out.  That electric blue one would have been a good color for you, but it looked like some kind of dress that a sleazy lounge torch singer would wear.”

Trixie shook her head as she remembered.

Honey continued.  “It could be worse.  The dress could be pink.  Remember the pink color she was leaning towards.”

“Pink is evil!  Evil!” Trixie lamented, as she pulled and tugged at the dress.  “You’re right, the pink would have been worse.  Those shiny sequins looked like scales.  I would have looked like a giant squid in that thing. Not that this is much better,” she muttered, as she yanked a sliding spaghetti strap back up on her shoulder.

“We won’t get any sympathy from the guys.”  Honey shook her head, remembering their pithy comments about the wedding attire. “They’re not very excited about wearing cowboy hats.  Bobby and Dan are both threatening to wear chaps and spurs with their tuxedos.”

Trixie paused and contemplated the vision of Jim in chaps.  A small smile appeared on her face as she appreciated the way they might accentuate her favorite part of his anatomy.

“Trixie?”  Honey paused and her brow knit.  She had seen that look on her friend’s face before.  “Trixie?”  She touched Trixie’s arm.  “Hey! I’m not sure exactly what you’re thinking about, but it’s something about my brother.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “You’re not going to get any sympathy from me if you keep up that kind of thinking!   You just need to remember that’s probably what got you looking like Ursula!” 

Trixie gave a sheepish grin.  “What were we talking about?”

“The boys and their purple cowboy hats,” Honey reminded her.

Trixie snorted.  “Where on earth did Mart get the idea for cowboy hats anyway?”

“From Uncle Monty, of course,” Honey answered, closing her pin box and stretching to work the kinks out of her back.

A quick knock on the door sounded and Miss Trask peeked into the room.  “Do you girls need any help?”

“Yes,” Trixie grumbled.  “Do you have a method that will send me into labor before this wedding?”

Miss Trask gave a sympathetic look.  “Oh, dear!  Let me see, is it that bad?”

Trixie stood and attempted a graceful runway model walk and twirl, which somehow resembled a dance by Barney the dinosaur more than it would ever look like American’s next top model walking across the room.

Miss Trask’s worried “Hmmmm” did nothing to relieve her concerns.

“Please, Miss Trask,” Trixie wheedled.  “Please say you have the perfect solution for this hideous monstrosity?”

Miss Trask slowly shook her head.  “Not really, dear.  Although wearing a dress like that and smiling as you walk down the aisle should shave many years off of any purgatory that might be in store for you in the after life.”

Honey laughed out loud. 

“It does make me wonder something though, dear.”

“What?” Trixie asked.

“What on earth did you girls ever do to Diana to deserve those dresses?”