Sliding Into Home (25 page)

She was right. I went back to Hank and pleaded my case for a Mansion wedding, and he eventually changed his mind. The one condition, which we both agreed on, was that it was going to be our party, with our friends and family—not a
Playboy
party with naked chicks in the grotto.

Hef agreed, and Hank and I were getting married at the Playboy Mansion.

Once the venue was set, finding the right dress moved to the top of my priority list. I wanted to look hot! A few top designers offered to make me dresses. It was cool that these big-name people wanted to be involved, but deep down I didn’t really think I was a designer-dress kind of girl.

One day I was walking down Ventura Boulevard in the Valley, and I passed a store called R-Mine Bridal. I decided to go in. My brain was wrapped around the wedding pretty tight, so whenever I had the opportunity to check out something wedding-related I jumped at the chance. The dresses were okay, but nothing really caught my eye, so I left and checked out a few other places.

A couple of weeks later I went back to R-Mine. The saleswomen there were so nice, and the store was so cute that I just figured I would swing by one more time. I was starting to get a little stressed out about how I didn’t know what I wanted when I began talking to the owner, Armine. She gave me the best news ever: “You don’t have to pick one of these dresses,” she said. “You can design any dress you want.”

Any dress I want? Now we’re talking!

I liked that idea, and I liked working with a smaller shop rather than some big high-end place. I like to see people grow and I would rather work with a company on the rise than with someone who is already big-time.

R-Mine was my style, and now that I could design anything I wanted, the dress would be, too. The scary part was that my whole wedding was now in
Playboy
’s and Armine’s hands.

I quickly began to drive Armine insane. First I wanted jewels everywhere, and then I changed my mind and didn’t want any jewels. I’d pop in all the time and ask, “So what’s new with the dress?”

“Kendra, you just came in yesterday,” she would say. “Nothing is new with the dress.”

Luckily, while I was making Armine nuts, other than the early wedding madness, life with Hank was great. I loved living with him. Hank spent time with my dogs, which he hadn’t done before, since I
usually visited him. Martini loved him, but Raskal didn’t like him at all at first. He’s very protective of me, and he would growl whenever Hank came near me. But eventually they warmed up to each other, and now Hank gets along great with both dogs, which was important to me.

I also learned that Hank wakes up really early. Even in the off-season he is up at six
A.M.
and ready to work out. I sleep until at least ten
A.M.
, so he gets to walk the dogs and make me breakfast. Yeah, I was pretty sure that this was going to work out really well.

In April, just a couple of months before the wedding, Hank and I went down to Clovis, New Mexico—Hank’s hometown—for his charity golf tournament benefitting the Oasis Children’s Advocacy Center. The center helps rehabilitate abused children, and Hank’s dad has worked there for years.

It’s a great charity event, and I was looking forward to seeing Hank’s family and having fun with his friends. The only problem was that I was late—and not late as in the way I was always late for parties or massage therapy class. I was late, as in I should have gotten my period three weeks earlier.

During our layover on the way down, I took about ten pregnancy tests. They all came back negative, but I knew something was up. I was never late, and I was feeling nauseous, too. Eventually I convinced myself that the terrible feeling in my stomach was from the flight and tried to forget about it.

We had flown from Southern California to Dallas, where we were supposed to catch a small plane to Lubbock, which is about a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Clovis. But due to tornados we were forced to land in Amarillo. While Hank and I were devising a plan for how
to get to Clovis, I started digging through my bags and discovered that I had one more pregnancy test left.

That should kill a few minutes. Why not take another one?
I thought.

I went into the bathroom and took the test, and when I came out, Hank could tell the result by the look of fear on my face.

I was pregnant.

We always knew we wanted to have kids, but, um, not quite so soon. I had the new show starting, appearances to make, and a body that paid the bills. Plus, we weren’t even married yet.

For about ten minutes we sat there in shock and didn’t say one word to each other. I got stressed out and started crying. It was weird, though, because I was nervous and confused and a little bit happy all at the same time.

We decided to take a cab to a tiny hotel in town—which looked like a set from a western movie, by the way—and wait for Hank’s parents to pick us up in the morning. Once we got to the hotel all the symptoms of pregnancy hit me like a ton of bricks. I was so emotional—crying (again), then laughing; excited one minute and freaked out the next—and after my outburst I became very hungry.

It was pouring rain, the wind was gusting, we were stranded at the hotel without a car, and it was nearly two
A.M.
but I needed food. Hank, being a true gentleman, walked to a Waffle House a mile away. He came back soaking wet with eggs, bacon, and grits. I was so happy I could have cried. Actually, I probably did.

Once I had a full stomach I was able to think straight. Hank and I were in a loving relationship, we were about to get married, and we could afford to have a baby. What was there to worry about? We
kissed and hugged and fell asleep as a happy couple, ready to have a child.

The next morning Hank’s parents picked us up and we headed to Clovis. At first we didn’t know if we should tell them. Hank wanted to, but I didn’t think I was ready. Throughout the whole two-hour drive, Hank, who was behind the wheel, kept looking at me in the mirror and giving me eyes that said,
Can I tell them?

I kept shaking my head no, and his look turned to disappointment.

I wanted to wait at least until I went to see a doctor.

Hank had different plans.

“Mom, Dad, we have something to tell you.”

Oh, boy, here we go.

“Kendra and I are going to have a baby.”

His mom screamed, “Oh my God!” and his dad lifted his face from the newspaper he was reading and uttered a fairly calm “Wow, congratulations,” before going back to his paper. Both of them were supportive, and it was a relief to know they were with us on this next step. His mom was ready to make baby blankets and everything.

The rest of the weekend I continued to experience every pregnancy symptom in the book as Hank’s mom followed me around, asking me if I was okay every few minutes. While on the outside I probably looked like I was a mess, on the inside I was happy. I was going to have a baby, and his family was on board.

Now all I had to worry about was my family.

While the cameras weren’t rolling on this trip, they did film another visit to New Mexico, and from that point on pretty much every experience I had as I prepared for my wedding day was caught on tape.

As soon as I got back from Clovis, I told the producers of the
show that I was pregnant so they could plan their filming accordingly. They were happy for me, and I think they also enjoyed the extra drama it would add to the first season. Case in point: when I told them that my mom didn’t yet know about my pregnancy, they asked if they could film me telling her.

Sometimes I thought the show actually took some pressure off of me. My mom tended to react to things I did more calmly because she didn’t want to look bad on camera. I figured if I told her I was pregnant on the show, she might be shocked, but she wouldn’t really be able to get mad. Seemed like a plan to me.

Bridget, who was really good at planning things, put together a bridal shower for me at my mom’s house. She planned the party for Mother’s Day weekend, which really seemed like the perfect time for me to break the news to my mom. My goal was to tell her in private before the cameras started rolling so she didn’t feel totally ambushed, but the opportunity never came up.

The big moment arrived, and with the cameras pointing right at us I said that I couldn’t drink Champagne . . . because I was pregnant.

My mom went completely insane. She stormed out of the party. Her reaction made me angry, so I stormed out, too, and got in my car and drove off.

I was really upset. Hank’s parents had been so nice and understanding when they found out. How could my mom just desert me like that? What kind of mother was she?

Once I calmed down—and the cameras were far away—I went to her house to talk to her.

“I’m sorry I told you like that, in front of everyone,” I said.

“How dare you set me up like that?” she replied.

“I know, I’m sorry. They wanted your real reaction. It was a stupid idea.”

Then things took a turn for the worse. Still livid, she started going off about Hank and how I hadn’t even known him that long and how she wasn’t sure why I was even getting married so quickly.

Hold up,
I thought.

“I love Hank,” I argued. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this if we didn’t love each other.”

“I thought this was your time to be strong and independent,” she said. “I just don’t know why you’re making these decisions.”

I was confused about what she was getting at, but I knew I didn’t like it. I quickly took back my apology and left.

The next day we had to shoot a Mother’s Day brunch, which the producers had set up at the Loews Hotel on the bay. As soon as my mom, my grandmother, my brother, and I were all there you could feel the tension in the room. I tried breaking the ice by pointing out the nice flowers that made up the centerpieces and telling my mom how much I liked her outfit. It didn’t work.

Finally, I got frustrated. It was Mother’s Day, damn it! I was having a baby and my family should be happy for me.

“Raise your hand if you are in favor of my life,” I stood up and said.

No hands went up. They all just looked away.

I went off. I started yelling and screaming that nobody supported me even though I was doing so much for the family these days. I asked my mom in front of everyone—even the cameramen—if she was just mad because I hadn’t given her money in a while.

Yikes, was that a bad move. She obviously wasn’t thinking about money. I get that now; I also realize that she married young, had two
kids, then had her heart broken, and she didn’t want to see the same thing happen to me. But I was so furious at the time that I didn’t see any of that.

The yelling went back and forth, and in the course of the family meltdown my grandmother even told me that I took after my father. She might as well have jabbed a knife into my heart. I was crushed.

No one was considering my side or the fact that just because that had all happened to my mom didn’t mean it was going to happen to me. Hank and I loved each other, and they needed to trust that. They needed to trust me.

That whole day was filmed, but no part of it ever aired. It was way too intense for TV.

A couple of weeks went by and I still wasn’t talking to my family and the wedding was around the corner. We were two weeks from the big day and Hank, who was back on the East Coast, called me up belligerent and drunk as hell and started yelling and cursing at me. We had been fighting over wedding details, and maybe there were some pre-wedding jitters, but his drunk ass called while I was hanging out with my friend Mykelle—a producer on
The Girls Next Door
—and just went off. I was so mad, I threw my ring off and chucked my phone in the toilet and in my head canceled the wedding.

I was crying hysterically and Mykelle called my mom for help. Despite everything we were going through, my mom came to the rescue, calmed me down, and made me go pick up that ring. She was right; this wedding was going to be great, and Hank was just drunk (which is funny, because he rarely drinks) and didn’t mean what he said.

My mom and I made up, and Hank and I did the same. Everything
was coming together. We even filmed a reenactment of my mom and me making up for the show, so everything could tie together nicely.

We couldn’t live in the past. We had to rally and focus because the big day was around the corner.

I wanted to be really hands-on when it came to planning my wedding. I didn’t want to just hire a stranger to handle all the details, so even though I had hired a wedding planner, leading up to the big day, I was still working the phones and dealing with all sorts of issues.

There were a lot of cooks in the kitchen, and it was actually kind of difficult to manage everyone. I had
Playboy
, the show, the wedding planner, the photographer, the florist, and so many other people involved, and we all had to be on the same page. The pregnancy hormones were definitely taking over, and coordinating everything with all those people drove me crazy.

But my biggest problem was the dress. Designing a wedding dress isn’t easy. It’s especially difficult when you want it to be form-fitting and your pregnant belly is growing bigger by the second.