A/N- Another grueling end to the year, but my dreams of success have not been deterred. I have found it very hard to be productive with my Troyella stories, but I refuse to give up. I love Zanessa always and I Love the fanfic community. Review if you don't mind or leave a message for me. I'd love to see who is still around.-JacksonAvery
When the rain retreated and the flowers begged for sunlight, the town of Albuquerque was rewarded with a preview of the summer to come. Dry. The air held no trace of moisture from the earlier weeks of nourishment on this day. Instead, the children were hoodwinked into relieving themselves of galoshes and raincoats in favor of swim trucks and sticky fingers from devoured ice cream cones. Young men set off toward the waves on long boards glancing over their shoulders at the scantily clothed ladies lounging, gossiping, and tanning. Older men opened their grease stained garages intent on polishing up the cars hidden for repairs, but settling for a beer or two while the radio called out the scores for the baseball season superstars. The older women mingled on the patios sharing pink drinks and cookies whilst discussing the politics of men and heels; an infinitely complicated issue. Outside Ms. Montez and Mrs. Bolton chatted about the upcoming events giving the worn Gabriella time to rest. Through the glass patio doors, past the cooling kitchen, and on the plumped pillowed sofa lay a very pregnant Gabriella Montez. Taylor had sat by her side most of the day, but had to leave for errands.
A melted glass of ice sat on the table saturating the coaster that was placed beside the empty carton that had been delivered full of chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies the crumbs of which were now scattered about the pink robe she wore; they were too many and too far to be reached over the large bump. She was severely pregnant and had no energy to move. It was hot and she was irritated.
A mass of various wedding magazines lay strewn about, but she was thoroughly fed up with the technicalities of a wedding. In all the time she and Taylor had spent planning their weddings, not a person had warned her of the strain it would cause. Even the smallest details were proving to be costly and annoying. For instance, when Gabriella had made an appointment to see the town florist she was informed, upon arrival, that she was missing a list of vital elements in her pursuit of blooms. One on the list was season. Apparently, not every rose bloomed at the beginning of spring after the rains had come and inspired growth. Instead, the one peach swirled rose Gabriella had to have in her bouquet and around the church was a "summer growth rose." Next the baker allowed her, for two hours, to search for the perfect cake, then let her know that only one particular baker was experienced with the kind of icing work on that particular cake. Then, when she arrived at the bridal shop it was as if no bride had ever been pregnant. There were all kinds of dresses for every occasion. There was even a large variety of colored dresses. Not one dress was built to hold the body of a woman who could quite possibly give birth on her wedding day. She didn't even attempt to try on the shoes. Upset and nearly in tears, she returned home to wallow in ice cream and potato chips, and flip through useless magazines. Gabriella's mother and Troy's mother had joined her at the house after her disappointing excursion. They tried to soothe her, but she was fuming and pregnant, a phase both women had gone through, obviously, and they'd retreated to the safety of outdoors. Taylor tried next with sugary goodness that seemed to wash a little of the angst away. Why was it so frustrating to put on a wedding?
Neither Troy nor Gabriella had been raised with a strict regiment of religion. While Gabriella and her mother partook in Catholic practices, Troy and his parents were more agnostic. They believed in a higher being, in being good people, and a little bit of Karma, but no certain law was implemented in their home. Both of them wanted to try to raise their child under a blessed household, and so, they made the decision to have a wedding before the birth of their little boy. If there was a consequence of being born out of wedlock they would take on the punishment and not the child. Of course, they would not push him into religious practice;he would be raised just as their parents taught them. Be good. Do good. Love everybody. The wedding to them would, mostly, be a significant joining of their lives. And Troy had really stressed to her that he wanted her to have that moment. That he wanted to close his eyes at night a recall how beautiful she was, how their mothers,and his dad, cried, and how special it had been to say out loud for everyone who would celebrate with them how much they loved each other. As Gabriella thought about it, she realized that this was the reason she should let her frustrations go. It wasn't about the flowers. It wasn't about the perfect cake. It wasn't about fitting dresses or shoes. Just love. That was the most important part. Love. All the time they spent together. All the things they had gone through together. Love was what kept them together. Love was what they were going to give their child. Love was what weddings were all about. The stress lifted into non existence. Gabriella swept the magazines beside her onto the floor, and stood up. She grabbed a jacket and decided to take a walk by herself;though she was never alone. Perhaps, she would catch Troy on the way from work. Maybe, she'd just have some time with her son and tell him how much she loved him and could not wait for him to meet him. The air was cooling as she stepped into the backyard. With a nod to the parents she set off around the house and into the sunset.
