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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Church Encounters: Chapter 17

-- OMG I have been so excited for this chapter y'all have no idea!!! Also sorry this one is like 11k words again, oops

ALSO We will be taking a small hiatus til the 4th of October so we won't post Church Encounters for a while but pinky promise there will be more chapters in the future!!

This fic was written in collabpration with @lgg5989 who will be posting this to her AO3 and her tumblr! She also made the lovely moodboard below!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated and we take blurb requests!

Previous Part

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @roosterscock @positivelyholland --

Jake’s hand had been killing him for a few days now, ever since your vigorous activities on Saturday night. He had gone to the med bay on base, and to his humiliation had to explain to the nurse how punching a wall had split one knuckle and bruised the rest. Not even the good Lord could save him from the blush that spread up his cheeks when the nurse realised that he had put his fist through the drywall during a rather pleasurable encounter with his wife.

“Well you haven’t broken anything Lieutenant Commander, but in the future I would try to…um…restrain yourself from fighting anymore drywall,” she said, a knowing smile on her face. She was a little older, probably around his mother’s age, and she almost teased him about how he was injured, something he found rather funny. The other nurses in the ward had been damn near fighting over who would get to attend to him, but she had picked the file off the stack and sent them scurrying away with a loud barrage of disappointed sighs.

“Yes, ma’am. Am I going to be grounded?” he asked, looking at her nervously. Their team had just been tasked with a new mission, and he didn’t want to risk sending them out without him.

“I don’t think so, just keep icing it like you have been and it’ll be good as new in about a week or so. I would advise against participating in any other strenuous activities for the next few weeks though, we wouldn’t want you to reinjure it,” she finished, handing him a cool ice pack to place on his hand.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jake said as he stood from the examination table giving her a small smile before exiting the office.

Pulling his phone out, he scrolled through the contacts until he came across Bob’s. Clicking the call button, he brought the phone up to his ear, waiting on Bob to pick up.

“Hello?” his voice said, sounding a bit out of breath.

“Hey,” Jake said, “I was wondering if I could have some help with something this weekend?” he asked.

“Sure, what’s up?” Bob asked, his words broken up by sharp pants.

“You good man?” Jake asked, concerned.

Bob let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah, Phoenix is kicking my ass, treadmill is at like a seven incline step.”

“Alright I’ll be quick then. I…um…I put a hole in the wall in my living room, and I’ve injured my hand…I need someone to help me patch it. Can you come by on Friday evening, say around dinnertime? Y/n’s making some kind of pasta dish, you can join us.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” Bob said, “Got to go.”

“Don’t let her beat you too bad Bobby,” Jake said, laughing a bit before hanging up the phone.

Friday night came sooner than Jake anticipated, and he had forgotten to stop and pick up the materials he and Bob were going to need to fix the wall. By the time he pulled his truck into the driveway, Bob’s Astra was parked on the street, and the sun was beginning to set.

Walking inside, he called out, “Sorry I’m late, I forgot to get the damn supplies to fix the wall.”

“That’s alright,” Bob called back, “Y/n is trying to teach me how to cook, I don’t know how well I’m doing.”

“You’re doing great,” you said with a smile, patting Bob on the back as he stood over the stove, “And how are you doing my dear, injured husband?” you inquired, stepping in front of Jake to take his lunch box and press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m alright, hand is feeling less sore so that’s good,” he said, smiling down at you and brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“How did you injure your hand?” Bob asked from his place at the stove.

You tried to hold back your laugh as you watched Jake flounder at the question, “Well, I…um…I was coming in and tripped, yeah, I tripped and my hand went through the wall,” he said, unconvincingly.

Bob looked at Jake, took a step to look at the wall in question, and then looked back at Jake, “Suuuure you did,” he said with a laugh.

Jake could feel the embarrassed blush from earlier come over his face, and before he could restrain himself he said, “Hey, I can’t be held responsible for what my hot wife does to me.”

Bob let out a groan, “Never mind, I don’t want to know what happened. As far as I’m concerned you closed your hand in the door of your truck or something.”

The three of you had a nice dinner before Jake and Bob set about patching the wall. Jake looked on as Bob screwed in a small piece of wood before fitting in a new panel of drywall that they cut to fit the fist sized hole. Finally finishing it with some fast curing drywall putty, the men waited an hour before digging the can of paint from the basement and rolling a coat over the new section of wall. I looked great, and you couldn’t even tell where the hole had been.

“Damn Bob, you’re practically a professional,” Jake said, impressed at the WSO’s home project abilities.

“Yeah, I had a lot of practice,” Bob said, “I used to work a construction job in high school, making extra money for mom to use on groceries,” he let out a small laugh before continuing, “That’s actually where my callsign comes from, I’m Bob the builder,” he finished laughing at the surprised look that came over Jake’s face.

“So not Baby On Board then?” Jake asked him, his face red with laughter.

“Definitely not,” Bob replied, “Maybe one day though.”

“Bob, that's my sister you’re talking about!” Jake said, slapping the man on the back of the head with his good hand, “Besides, the two of you aren’t even married yet, you can’t be thinking shit like that.”

“Tell me you didn’t and I’ll stop,” Bob said, raising one eyebrow at Jake before looking back at the wall they just finished painting.

Jake let out a sigh, grumbling something under his breath as he turned around and picked up the gallon of paint, bringing it out to the garage. Bob just laughed, he was going to be in so much trouble if Jake ever found out how far he had toed the line with Maria.

---

Jake had been working on the room you had decided would be the nursery. The two of you had been talking about having a baby for a few months and with your family’s history of having trouble conceiving, you had decided to try sooner than originally planned, figuring that you were unlikely to get pregnant on the first go anyway.

You walked into the nursery, dressed in a casual jersey dress, feeling a little down.He stepped away from the crib he was putting together and pulled you into his arms, “Hello, maybe-momma.”

“Hi there, almost-daddy,” you said back, laughing a little at the different versions of future mom he had been calling you, “How’s it coming?”

“As well as expected, what man has ever read the directions,” he stated playfully, winking at you before pressing a kiss to your lips, “How about you? Any good news?”

You frowned, producing the pregnancy test from behind your back, “No, still negative.”

Jake pulled you to him in a hug, “It’ll happen baby, don’t worry. God will bless us when he thinks we are ready.”

You nodded, the disappointment still cutting deeply into your heart. It didn’t help that you had been feeling strange for weeks now, with a weird assortment of symptoms that you had tried to google. Doctor Internet was as unhelpful as ever, telling you there were only three possible causes for your sudden bouts of sickness: pregnancy, cancer, or the flu. You could scratch off pregnancy as every test you had taken came back negative, which left only two things on Google’s list and a few thousands on your own list of completely ordinary causes for your aches and pains.

“I think I need to see a dentist,” you said, “I keep tasting blood.”

“It could just be working out,” Jake offered, trying to ease your worries. He knew how much you hated the dentist and how much losing or damaging your teeth freaked you out.

Besides, they weren’t empty reassurances, it was well known that working out could cause a metallic taste in the mouth. Jake vaguely remembered his biology teacher explaining that a very high pressure of blood moving into a person’s lungs through their membranous tissues could make someone taste blood although he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. You had just started a new workout regimen, helped by Phoenix who was known amongst the squad for going hard at the gym. Your body simply wasn’t used to the new intensity.

You nodded, ready to accept that as the answer when the alternative was so frightening to you.

“Or,” Jake said carefully, not wanting to hurt you any more than necessary, “It could be your monthlies…”

You sighed, on the verge of tears. Jake knew how much you had come to dread it, but it was undeniably going to happen at some point.

“I know honey,” he said, pulling you close to him in a comforting hug, “But we can’t deny it, yeah? You’ve been having hot flushes, you feel dizzy, you’ve been… emotional,” he explained

“And sleepy,” you added, nuzzling into his chest in the hopes that the fabric of his shirt would sponge up any tears should they fall, “You’re probably right,” you whispered, “It’s just periods.”

“I’m sorry honey,”

“No, it’s fine. We expected this. We knew it would take a while,” you replied, rubbing your eyes and giving him a sad smile, “The Lord will bless us when we’re ready,” you repeated back to him, patting his chest before turning around and leaving for the kitchen.

You dropped a pod of Jake’s favourite coffee into the machine and pressed pour, fitting a large mug underneath the spout. Jake was right, periods would explain a lot of your symptoms but there were a couple you just couldn’t explain away. You couldn’t for the life of you find a satisfactory explanation as to why you were always so damn itchy, or why you suddenly got so clumsy, or why you kept getting nosebleeds, or even why you were getting strangely vivid dreams. But strangest of them all was your sudden and very acute disgust at the mere concept of coffee.

---

Lizzie: You free next week? Beau is taking the kids out and we need to catch up. I want to see the pictures from your honeymoon.

Jake’s out of the house next Saturday, I can make lunch? You texted back, excited at the prospect of seeing Elisabeth again.

You had seen Beau at work since your return but his wife had remained elusive. She was always so busy running around taking care of the kids, organising meal trains for people around the parish and otherwise volunteering her services as a birth doula to mothers who couldn’t afford it.

Lizzie: Perfect! Looking forward to it!

You immediately set to work, leaving the house to buy ingredients. When you came home an hour later you placed a pot on the hob, tipping in two litres of water and adding salt, sugar, saltpetre, a cinnamon stick, mustard seeds, peppercorns, cloves, allspice, juniper berries, bay leaves and ginger. You let it cook on high until the sugar dissolved, then, you removed it from the heat and stirred in some ice before checking the temperature. Once at the desired 7C, you placed your two kilo beef brisket into a bag and filled it with the brine, covering the meat, sealing it well and putting it into the refrigerator where it would stay for the next ten days.

Once Saturday came around you removed the brisket from the bag and rinsed it under cool water. You placed it into a large pot, adding onions, carrots and celery and covered with water. After boiling it, you reduced the temperature from high to low and left it to simmer for three hours.

You cut a few slices to test, making them thin enough to place on Jake’s sandwich which you packed in a lunchbox and set aside for him to take on his trip. He was joining his fellow Youth Ministers for a weekend in Joshua Tree National Park, requested by Freddie and Matt in an effort to bond more as a team. Jake was less than enthused by the idea, not keen to leave you home alone when you had been feeling ill for so long.

He ran around the house trying to pack, taking more breaks than necessary to check his phone, drink some coffee and kiss your cheeks as you cooked. Eventually, he could no longer delay his departure and was forced to bring the bags to his truck, forcing the guitar into the passenger seat and unceremoniously dumping the duffel bag into the truck bed.

“Honey?” Jake called from the kitchen, after remembering he’d bought some snacks for the trip. You hummed from the sofa where you were sat reading your bible, acknowledging that you had heard him, “Honey, why do we have pickles?” he asked, holding up the jar to show you.

“I don’t know, I saw them at the shop and they looked good,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders.

Jake hesitated, “Sweetheart, I thought you didn’t like pickles?”

“I know but -- I don’t know, I’ve been craving them… I made you a sandwich! It’s on the table” you said, pointing towards the blue lunchbox on the kitchen table. Jake picked it up and lifted the lid, “It was supposed to be a reuben sandwich, but I swapped out the sauerkraut for pickles,” you explained.

“Thank you, honey,” Jake said, picking up the lunchbox before making his way to you.

“You have to go now though, or you’ll be late,” you chastised him.

“Yes, that would truly be a shame, wouldn’t it… It’s weird, I suddenly don’t feel so good anymore, do you think I could stay home?” he asked, making a pouting face and pulling his collar away from his neck.

“No,” you laughed, “Go! It’ll be fun.”

Jake snorted, “Says the woman who doesn’t have to share a cabin with Henry Greuvel, the loudest snorer this side of the equator.”

“It’s only for one night!” you giggled, pushing him towards the door.

“Fine, but text me, okay? I wanna know how you’re feeling. If it doesn’t get better by Monday, I’ll take you to the doctor’s,” Jake said, he leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead and when you looked up at him, he kissed your lips too, “Have fun at church. I love you, see you tomorrow evening!” he shouted as he walked out of the house.

An hour later, with Elisabeth’s arrival imminent, you got up from your seat and walked to the kitchen again where you switched on the kettle and prepped a mug with a homemade anti-nausea ginger and lemon tea bag. You poured the water in as soon as the kettle clicked and drank a few sips before pulling the ingredients for a russian dressing out of the fridge. You spread the mixture generously on two large slices of toasted rye bread, adding a few thin slices of still warm brisket, as much cheese as you could cram on and topping it all with a large helping of sauerkraut before closing the sandwich with another slice of bread. You had just plated it all when the doorbell rang.

“Oh goodness, it smells amazing!”

“It’s ready to serve,” you laughed,

“Good, because I am starving!” she said, walking into the living room where you had dressed the dining table and put the plates, “It is so nice not to have to cook for once,”

“Dad doesn’t cook?” you asked, sounding confused.

Elisabeth scoffed, “Beau isn’t allowed to cook.”

You looked at her, concern written on your face, “He’s not bad, I’ve had his homemade pizza before.”

“And therein lies the problem, my dear, it’s better than mine! I can’t take that kind of defeat,” she said with a wink.

You walked back to the kitchen, picking up the pickle jar that Jake hadn’t placed back in the cupboard, and relieved for once as you had started to feel a little dizzy and didn’t feel confident about reaching for the highest shelf. You carried it back to the dining table and twisted the lid open, picking two long slices of pickled cucumber and placing them on top of your open sandwich.

“I thought you didn’t like pickles?” Elisabeth remarked.

“I think they’re growing on me,” you replied with a small smile.

The sandwich was delicious. You had never tried that recipe before but with each bite it earned itself a higher spot on the leaderboard of all your favourite dishes. You collected the plates and placed them in the sink, running some water over them before walking back to the coffee pot.

“Would you like a cup of coffee Liz?” you asked her from across the kitchen.

There was a moment’s pause before she answered, “That sounds great, maybe with a splash of milk?”

Before even approaching the coffee pot, you popped a ginger candy into your mouth, taking a few good swallows of the sweet ginger flavour before approaching the pot with a mug ready. You poured the coffee into the mug and stirred in a little milk with minimal gagging before bringing the cup to Elisabeth.

“Here we are,” you said, placing it down in front of her.

“Aren’t you going to have one too?” she asked, looking at you confused.

You grimaced, “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you said, “The smell of coffee recently has been making me nauseous.”

“Are you…” she asked, an excited smile growing on her face. It fell almost immediately when she saw you grow sad.

“No, women in my family have a history of struggles when it comes to conceiving. We’ve started trying but as much as we want it to happen, we know it’s unlikely to happen right now,” you explained, “The waiting is agony though,” you added.

Elisabeth nodded. You stayed quiet for a moment while she seemed to be thinking of something.

“Beau and I struggled too. We had Peter without an issue but Matthew was a little harder, then when we went to the doctor’s to see if we could have a third, they told us it was unlikely we’d conceive again. We were heartbroken but we held on to the fact that they said it was unlikely, not impossible. We tried for years after that and nothing happened, so we gave up. It was a really dark time in our lives, we stopped going to church, I quit my job, and Beau and I seemed to fight every other night,” she said, pausing for a moment,

“And then one night, I was packing up our shrine to throw most of it away when I knocked something off of a shelf. I don’t know, maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was the Lord trying to show us the way, but I had knocked Peter’s bible down to the floor and it opened on Luke Chapter one. The first thing I saw was, oh I remember it as though it happened an hour ago,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes,

“The first thing I saw was ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.’ I called Beau immediately, even though he was playing baseball with buddies, and I told him to get his ass home because we were going to church,” she laughed, “He didn’t argue, even though I never told him about the verse or the Bible. And two months after that I went to the doctor’s for some unrelated health issues, and they told me I was pregnant. I was convinced we’d have a boy, obviously, and we were going to call him John. But then the three little ladies arrived and Beau asked me if we could name one ‘Joanna’, he said he didn’t know why but he felt it was right to use that name, as if he was fulfilling his end of a promise.”

You looked at Elizabeth for a moment, unable to think of what to say. She placed her hands on yours, gently squeezing, “All I’m saying is the Lord provides, but He does so in His own time and for His own reasons. We can’t understand them, nor should we want to but we can trust Him. And I trust He will bless you with your own bundle of joy soon, but in the meantime, you must listen when He tells you things about yourself and your life, even if they’re things you would rather not hear. While Beau and I waited to be blessed again, I ignored when the Lord tried to tell me I was impatient, quick to anger and jealous, I blamed others when I should have looked at myself. Instead of laying my worries and anxieties on God, I tried to deal with them myself, and if I had just left my heart open to His guidance, I could have let all that go sooner. And since I have, I have been a better wife, and a much better mother,” she finished.

You had often looked to Elisabeth for help and guidance when you had trouble hearing the Lord, and you valued her experience immensely. You were so relieved to finally be able to talk to Lizzie and air your worries, the experience only somewhat marred as your head kept spinning and you felt a little dizzy.

“You okay?” She asked, as a hot flush washed over you and you felt the colour drain from your face as soon as it departed.

“I feel funny,” you replied, your speech slurred by the speed at which the room had started spinning

Elisabeth grabbed a hold of your arm to ground you, “Hey, don’t faint on me, sweetheart,” she said, “Have you had much to eat today?”

You shook your head, instantly regretting it as it made your head spin faster. You felt Elisabeth move and you grabbed the edge of the table in an effort to keep yourself upright.

“You need sugar,” Elisabeth said, standing up to look through your cupboards.

“I have some in the pantry,” you told her, dropping your head down into your hands in an effort to stay conscious. Lizzie jogged down the corridor and came back into the room with a bag of sugar. She dumped two large tea spoons into a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Drink, you’ll feel better,” she said, moving the cup closer to you. The smell overpowered your senses and you stood, trying to escape or at least turn away as your stomach lurched, but you didn’t have the time to be sick because as soon as you stood, your vision faded to black and you hit the floor with a heavy thud.

When you came to, Elisabeth was kneeling beside you, fanning your face with a notepad she had found somewhere, “Y/n can you hear me? Are you okay?” she asked, you tried to get off of the floor but she stopped you with her hand, “Take it easy.”

“It’s okay, it’s happened a few times, I’ll be fine,” you said, placing a hand on the coffee table and trying to pull yourself up.

Elisabeth stopped you again, “A few times?! And Jake leaves you home alone like that?”

“No, I -- I haven’t told him. It’s nothing, just my periods,” you mumbled out, suddenly feeling a bit stupid for not telling him.

“Y/n, this isn’t normal. You need to see a doctor,” Elisabeth said, pulling you up and sitting you carefully on the couch before getting her purse from the door, fishing her car keys out of the side pocket.

You let out a sigh, “Liz --”

“Do not make me play the ‘mom’-card, Y/n. Do as you’re told,” she said sternly, using the same tone of voice that she used whenever she needed to make Beau do something he didn’t want to do.

---

The ride to urgent care was short and tense, Lizzie looking over at you every couple of seconds to make sure that you were still okay.

“I’m fine Liz, I’m not going to keel over,” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She sighed, “You might not keel over but that doesn’t mean I’m not still worried about you.”

You sighed, looking at the grey building that appeared in front of you as Liz pulled into the parking lot. She had an arm wrapped around you as she walked you inside and you checked in at the desk.

When the nurse called you back and brought you into a room, she asked you the routine questions: Have you been in before? Do you have a fever? Are you pregnant?. At the end of their questioning, you sat thinking about the last time you had a period, you’d been having all the usual symptoms but it hadn’t started yet.

The nurse left, telling you the doctor would be in soon, leaving you and Liz in a comfortable silence. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a short woman walked in.

“Mrs. Seresin?” she asked, looking at you sitting on the table.

“Yes, that’s me,” you said, smiling a little at your still fairly new title.

She nodded, coming to stand in front of you to do a basic examination, “I am Dr. Fielding, is there anything specific bothering you today?”

You explained the situation as she examined you and when she was done, and once she had looked over your chart, she said, “I think we need to do a blood test, you have been fainting recently and with the other strange behaviours I would hate to miss something, otherwise, physically, you seem fine.”

“Alright,” you agreed, “Whatever it takes.”

She nodded at you before leaving the room, “Nurse Amy will be back in soon to do the draw and we should have the results back in about an hour for you.”

Once your blood was drawn you and Lizzie settled into the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. After only thirty minutes, you were called back into the exam room, Dr. Fielding waiting for you.

“Mrs. Seresin, I am happy to tell you that you are pregnant, the blood work shows elevated amounts of HCG hormones indicating pregnancy. If I had to guess you are only a few weeks along,” she said, a small smile on your face.

You felt the world rock, and you were half convinced that there was an earthquake and no one else knew it. The first thing you wanted to do was call Jake, the thought of telling him exciting you and scaring you at the same time. What if he wasn’t happy that you were going to be having a baby so soon? What if he was excited? Then your mind wandered to his family, and how good he was with kids, and your heart stopped in your chest. What if you wouldn’t be a good mom? Jake had wonderful parents to look up to and yours were dead, and a shitty parent at best. What if you were no good? What if– your thoughts were cut off by the doctor speaking.

“This is a list of recommended prenatal vitamins for you to start taking and I would make an appointment with your gynaecologist or an OBGYN for a better estimate of the development of your baby,” she finished, “I’ll have Amy check you and you you should be good to leave, make sure you keep that blood sugar up.”

The next half hour felt like it passed you in a daze, Lizzie was excited for you and she chatted animatedly to you the whole ride home. Once she helped you inside and made sure you were settled in, she asked, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No that’s alright, I think I’m going to call Jake,” you said, trying to put a smile on your face for her benefit.

“Alright dear, well it was wonderful to see you, and I am so happy for you and Jake!” her excitement causing you to smile for a moment longer before you see her out.

As you close the door you called out after her, “Oh Liz?”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“Will you keep this a secret from Beau for a bit? I want to tell him my own way,” you requested, hoping she would agree.

She smiled brightly, a devious look in her eye at the thought of surprising her husband, “Oh of course! I wouldn’t want to take that moment from you. Let me know if you need any help planning anything okay?”

“Okay, I will. Drive safe!” you called out before stepping inside and closing the door.

Once it was shut you pulled out your phone and wrapped your now shaking frame in the throw blanket that you kept out on the couch. You clicked on Jake’s contact, the icon saved to your home screen under Hubby. You paced in front of the windows of your living room a few times before pressing the call button.

When you pressed call, it didn’t even ring before being sent to voicemail. Your heart hurt, and tears sprung into your eyes. He probably didn’t have a signal and he didn’t expect you to be pregnant, but there was something inside you that screamed Why didn’t he pick up the phone? Does he know? How could he possibly know? Maybe he- you shook your head, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts that were trying to take over your mind. You tapped on Annie’s number in your contacts, hoping she’d answer. The phone rang three times before finally clicking through, “Hello?” she spoke into the receiver

“Hey, how are you?” you asked. Now that you had made contact, telling her suddenly seemed like a monumentally terrible idea.

“Err, I’m okay, I’m working,” your sister replied, clearly unsettled. You never usually called during the weekend, and certainly not while she was working. The last time anyone had done that it had been to tell her about the passing of your grandmother, “Is everything okay?” she asked, worry laced in her voice.

You couldn’t back out now, you had to tell her, because she’d never buy that you wanted to catch up and quite frankly, you weren’t sure you would be able to keep yourself from crying much longer.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, apologising as she made her way through the throngs of children she had been supervising during afternoon garden playtime and into a more private area where she no longer had to strain her ears to listen to you. You heard a door shut behind her and suddenly the ambient noise of the garden, the children and the blowing wind disappeared, much to your relief, you hadn’t realised how much the sound of kids had been making you feel worse.

“I’m okay,” you lied, “I’m pregnant!” you tried to sound excited, but tears bubbled in your throat and your voice came out wobbly and uncertain.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” she screamed, “I’m so excited! Does Jake know? Ooh! Are you going to do one of those cute Pinterest reveals? Oh my god this is going to be so great! You HAVE to film it and send it to me, I want to see his face! How far along are you? Are you--”

“ANNIE!” you snapped, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -- I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, your legs buckling underneath you and dropping you onto the floor with a painful crack of your knees.

“Is there something wrong with the baby?” she asked. You could practically see her standing there in front of you, one hand clasped in front of her mouth, a horrified expression on her face, it made you feel so much worse.

“No,” you whispered, “There’s something wrong with me.”

“What do you mean? Do you need me to fly over? Is Jake with you?” she asked, her words coming out in a panicked rush, and you could hear her rustling around in the background of the call.

“Annie, what if I turn out like mum?” you said, “What if I hate them? What if something happens to Jake and I turn out like her?”

Annie was quiet for a second, “Honey, that’s never going to happen,” she whispered into the receiver, “It’ll never happen because if anything happens to my niece or nephew I will come down to California and kill you,” she joked, eliciting a watery laugh from you.

“In all seriousness, Y/n, I think you’re going to be an amazing mom. You’re kind, you’re caring, you’re gentle, and most importantly, you’re willing. This is what you have wanted since you were old enough to understand, mom… Mom became a mom because she thought that was what the world wanted. She had us to become the picture perfect family and when dad died, she couldn’t be bothered with keeping up appearances,” she said, “You wouldn’t know, because we don’t really talk about this, but when dad died, mom didn’t get any worse. The only thing that changed was that she didn’t talk to us anymore. Before then, dad took care of us, brought us to school and helped us with the homework. Her contribution as a parent extended to showing up at PTA meetings, dressing us all nice for school pictures and dishing up punishment whenever she thought we needed it. Mom was never good.”

“What if I find out it’s not what I wanted? What if I hold my baby and I look at it and I realise I made all the good bits up?” you sobbed

“Oh you will. You’ll hold the crying kid in your arms and your ears will ring and you’ll be desperate for sleep and you’ll wonder why on earth you even made the nugget. And then it’ll say ‘mamma’ and it’ll waddle over to you, or wave or smile for the first time, it’ll give you their first drawing and you’ll get it, even if the drawing is terrible, or they fall and hit their head and cry some more. Y/n, every season in life will have regrets, you can’t always be happy. You won’t get everything you want, and that’s good, because if you did you wouldn’t appreciate life as much as you do. Let me put it in terms you understand,” she chuckled, “If humans were awake and energetic all the time, we’d never have invented coffee.”

You laughed a little, “Promise me that if I ever fail at being a mom, you’ll be on the next plane over,” you said, growing a little more serious.

“Pinky promise. If you fail at being a mom, I will personally come and set your head straight. But I won’t need to, because if you were going to fail at being a mom, you wouldn’t have called. And if you were going to fail at being a mom, you wouldn’t have spent so much of your life trying not to be like mom,” she said, “I take it you haven’t told Jake?”

“No, I tried calling but he’s spending the weekend with youth ministry leaders and they’re in Joshua Tree with horrible cell service,” you explained

“Don’t forget he’s there too, yeah? He wants this as much as you and I’m sure he’ll have his own little freakout about being a good dad, so when the time comes, let him. Let him figure things out, let him have a couple of firsts, both good and bad. I know it’ll be hard, but you have nine months more than he does to bond with baby, so let him catch up a little. And he’ll fuck up, just like you will, but if you’re going to expect him to help shoulder all the burdens, he’s gotta go through the learning process too,” she said, “Speaking of learning process, having kids doesn’t come with a manual, but I’ve been a preschool teacher for ten years, so if you have a question, I’m here. And I’ll give you a little more free advice: pray. For the good things, the bad things, for everything. And read the bible, too. I think Proverbs 31 gives you a good blueprint on how to be,” she finished.

You walked up to your shrine and opened up your bible to the book of Proverbs and turned the pages till you hit Proverbs 31, you read through the entire verse twice, your eyes flicking down to the end. "Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.’"

““Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” you whispered, putting your phone away after hanging up, “Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for me so that I may be the mother my children need. Pray for me so that my children may rise up and call me blessed.”

—

Jake knelt down on the uncomfortable floor of the wooden cabin, the badly hammered nails digging into his legs. He leaned against the bed, hoping to alleviate some of the pain and brought his hands together in front of his head.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive those who have trespassed against us, and Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from Evil,” Jake spoke, his voice echoed by Henry, doing the same behind him.

He lowered his voice, wanting privacy for the next bit, “Father, I thank you for the opportunities you have given me. Thank you for the people you have brought into my life and thank you for the people you have taken out. Thank you for creating the people I love and for the people I dislike too, I hope all who deserve it feel Your love and obey Your Will. Please keep Y/n safe and healthy. She hasn’t been feeling well these past few weeks, and I worry about her. Please keep Bob, Maria, my team and my parents and friends in your thoughts too,” Jake whispered,

“I confess, Father, that I have been impatient. I know You will Bless us when we are ready but waiting has been torture, I find myself unable to think about anything other than having a little one of our own and how much happiness it would bring us. I ask that you help me remember Romans 8:25: "But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." when times become hard,” he continued.

“Lord, I pray that you might guide me, and help me use the gifts you have given me. You know what I need and what I want, Father, and I pray my life may be filled with some of both. Amen,” he finished, using the bed to stand up, rubbing his knees free of the bumps and dips caused by the rough floor of the cabin.

He climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to his chest, feeling cramped and claustrophobic on the tiny single bed and terribly lonely without you laying right beside him. He had been tired when the evening had come to a close but now that he was there, sleep wouldn’t come. He seemed to be the only one suffering from insomnia, though, as Henry had begun snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow, causing Jake to wonder how park rangers hadn’t already been called for breaking the 60 decibel noise ordinance.

He tossed and turned for twenty more minutes, the words he had prayed reverberating in his head so loud that he was getting a headache and finally harmonising with Henry so perfectly that it was slowly driving him insane.

Unable to take it any longer, Jake stood up and went for a walk. Walking along the main trail until he hit a fork in the road. He had taken this road not even an hour ago, but they had taken flashlights then and Jake had forgotten his phone, in the moonlight, he was entirely incapable of remembering which way to take. He concentrated, trying to hear the gentle noises of the river they had eaten next to but he couldn’t find it in the ambient noise of the forest, moving with the breeze. Then, carried by the wind, the sound of a quiet melody came through from his right. Throwing all caution to the wind, Jake took that path and walked down until he hit a small clearing.

The bonfire they had made was still going strong, and in the flickering light of the flames, Bob carefully strummed the chords of Jake’s guitar. Seeing him standing there in the shadow of the trees, Bob stopped.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he called out.

Jake shook his head, “Thinking too loud,” he confessed.

“You’re bunking with Henry and your thoughts are too loud? My, you must really be worried,” Bob chuckled.

“Not worried,” Jake replied, “Okay maybe a little worried,” he admitted, “We’re trying for a baby.”

“I thought you were going to wait a while?” Bob asked, bending over the guitar’s neck to fiddle with the strings, pretending to be doing something to avoid making Jake uncomfortable. He had been his friend long enough to know that showing any emotion except happiness made him intensely uncomfortable, and that Jake seemed to have an easier time talking when Bob pretended not to be listening.

“There’s a history of difficulties with conceiving in Y/n’s family, we figured we’d start trying now, you know… In case it takes a while,” Jake said, his eyes trained on the fire.

“Ah,” Bob said, “That’s fair. How’s Y/n feeling about it?”

“Well, it’s been two months and we’re both feeling pretty impatient,” he replied, “It’s hard to just … let things happen.. You know?”

“I know,” Bob agreed, leaning back behind him to fish two sodas out of the cooler and giving one to Jake, “I was feeling the same about meeting someone before Maria,” he admitted.

Jake sighed heavily before continuing, “And I’m honestly scared shitless that once we have a kid, we’ll -- I’ll fuck shit up.”

“If it makes you feel better, the Lord seems pretty forgiving about that,” Bob said, trying to add the shame and the sound of his thumping heart with a nervous chuckle.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, looking up at Bob, his voice laced with concern, “You haven’t fucked anything up with Maria, I had her on the phone like, this week, she seemed fine.”

“I fucked up,” Bob replied, “We fucked up,” he added, his voice low enough that it could have been covered up by the crackle of the roaring fire.

“Floyd, what did you do?” Jake asked, his voice almost as threatening as it had been the night of the bar fight.

“I…nothing, nevermind,” Bob tried, taking a sip of the Sprite he had pulled from the cooler.

Jake let out a laugh, “It’s too late for that Bobby-boy, tell me what you did.”

“I don’t know man, you are her brother, I don’t need to get the shit beat out of me on a Church retreat…” Bob said, his voice trailing off on the last word.

“Should have fucking thought of that before doing anything to my sister,” Jake said, the threat of bodily harm evident in the tone of his voice.

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t do anything she didn’t ask me to do, okay,” Bob exclaimed in outrage at the accusation, “This fuck up is on both of us!”

Jake heaved out a large sigh before demanding, “Last time. What. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing… -- We didn’t sleep together,” Bob said nervously, his hands gesturing wildly in front of him, “Qualifies as heavy petting at most.”

Jake grabbed the collar of his shirt, standing up and lifting Bob up with him. For an agonising minute, Bob thought Jake might punch him but as soon as Jake had lifted up a fist, he had lowered it again, “I can’t really say anything, just -- just take care of her, you know, and keep the rest of it for the wedding night.”

“I take it y’all did the same?” Bob asked, one hand coming up to run through his hair as Jake let him go and stepped back.

“Absolutely not,” Jake replied, his voice sounding final.

Bob winced at the tone, “I didn’t mean to --”

“Got so close though,” Jake chuckled, “And I was the one to stop it, if you’ll believe that.”

Letting out a laugh Bob replied, “Now you’re just making things up.”

“You wound me,” Jake said, raising a hand up to his pec, looking down at it like he was trying to keep himself from bleeding out, “Look at me, wounded,” he joked.

“So you’re not mad?” Bob asked, his voice nervous.

“I never said that, but I don’t get to judge,” Jake replied, “Not my job. And if He forgives you for it then there’s no reason I shouldn’t either.”

Bob nodded, staring at the bonfire’s dying flames, “Pray for me and I’ll pray for you?” he offered, “For the baby, I mean.”

“Now?” Jake asked.

Bob shrugged, “Seems as good a time as any…” he said, “I’ll start if you want?”

Jake shook his head, “I think I know the right way to start,” he said. Jake took a deep breath, pausing for a second to gather himself, looking up at Bob, he started into one of his favourite prayers, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” he paused, waiting to see if Bob would take it from there.

“Holy Mary we pray to you today so the Lord may bless Jake and Y/n with the child they desperately want, and that when the time comes and they fall pregnant, that Y/n may be healthy and enjoy every minute of the nine months their blessing will take to arrive. I pray Saint Joseph guides Jake along the path of Fatherhood, and that you, Saint Mary, help Y/n become the mother the child needs and that she would have liked as a girl. I hope the child is healthy and happy, that they learn to follow the Word and that they never stray far from His teachings,” he said, then, stealing a side glance at Jake, he added, “I also pray that Jake and Y/n learn to be more patient, and listen to Galatians 6:9, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time --” Bob began, his retelling of the verse rudely interrupted by a sharp slap to the back of his head.

“You’re a prick,” Jake said before adding, “Mother, Mary, please watch over Bob and Maria, and remind them of Romans 8:25, “But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

Bob let out a laugh, “I’m the prick?” he asked, before concluding the prayer, “Please guide us both closer to your immaculate self, and let our actions honour God’s will. Amen.”

“Amen,” Jake said a second later.

“Well that was interesting,” Bob said with a laugh.

Jake rolled his eyes, “You are the biggest shit stirrer I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Bob said with a smile, “Soon I’ll be your family too, no way of getting rid of me now.”

“I don’t know, I think I could probably bury you out here somewhere, help Maria move on with….Coyote, yeah Coyote,” Jake said, one brow raised.

Bob let out a nervous laugh, the colour draining from his face, “You wouldn’t,” he said, his tone contradicting his words.

Jake just let out a deep laugh, almost falling off the log he was sitting on, “You’re right, I wouldn’t. But that has more to do with the fact that Maria scares me than my self control.”

Bob nodded, a smile cracking over his face, “She is a little scary, isn’t she?”

“When she wants to be,” Jake said, “But who do you think taught her that?”

“It wasn’t you Bagman,” Bob said with a laugh, “I believe wholeheartedly that it was your mom.”

“You might be right there, she and Nonna have this way about them,” Jake said, shivering slightly at the thought of his mom and grandma’s abilities to scare people.

Checking his watch, he realised the time, “Well Bobby, we should probably get back to bed.”

Bob nodded, “Yeah, you gonna be able to sleep?”

“Probably not, but that’s what the coffee is for right?” Jake asked, a tired smile on his face.

Bob just nodded, “It’ll give you practice for when the baby you’re trying for comes along.”

Jake just laughed as the two of them stood up and made their way back to the cabins in a comfortable silence.

—

It started about twenty-five miles outside of Joshua Tree, the ringing. Jake and Bob’s phones were blowing up with notifications all at once. Things they hadn’t seen all weekend due to their lack of service.

Bob picked up his phone, scrolling through the notifications, “Um..Jake?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, glancing over at him, “What’s up?” he asked, upon seeing the concerned look on Bob’s face.

“There’s an email here, titled, ‘Father John’s Funeral Arrangements’,” he said, sounding confused, “And I have ten missed calls from Cheryl, you know the Church’s scheduling secretary?”

“Are you…Are you serious?” he asked, his attention now solely focused on Bob.

“Jake, watch the road!” Bob shouted, and Jake cussed as he looked forward and saw a line of stopped traffic, slamming on the brakes and steering the truck off onto the sandy shoulder, he just missed the minivan in front of him.

Bob looked at him concerned, “You good man?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?” Jake asked, making sure that the rough stop didn’t cause any damage to any of the cars around him.

“I’m alright, I think we need to stay here a minute though, call the church,” Bob said quietly.

Jake just nodded, he and Father John weren’t the closest but he did think that the man was a damn good priest. He heard Bob talking to who he assumed was Cheryl on the phone as he watched Henry’s truck pull up behind him, the man got out and walked to Jake’s window.

Just as Jake rolled it down, Bob hung up the phone.

“You boys alright?” Henry asked, “I know you’ve got a new wife Jake but really shouldn’t be on the phone and driving.”

“I wasn’t,” Jake answered, a little offended that the man thought so little of him. Before he could defend himself further, Bob cut in, “Father John passed away last night,” he said quietly.

“What?” Henry asked, his eyes growing large as he looked between Bob and Jake.

“We got emails about it, you’re on them too,” Jake said, grabbing his own phone from the console, he unlocked it to see that you had called him several times and left several messages. There were about a hundred unopened notifications, twenty of them from you.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his head with his baseball cap before placing it snugly back on. Bob and Henry were talking and the rest of the men were probably wondering what was happening, “Alright,” Jake said, interrupting the conversation, “Let’s get home, there’s nothing we can do for anyone stuck three hours away with limited phone service, right?”

Bob nodded, “He’s right Henry, Cheryl said that they were following Father John’s wishes and that one of the other priests from our sister church would cover masses until a replacement can be assigned by the diocese.”

Henry let out a strangled sigh, “You’re right, let’s get home.”

Jake rolled up his window and merged back into traffic, his phone still in his hand, all the messages from you were increasingly more concerning.

Saturday 12-noon

Mine <3: Jake, call me when you can.

Mine <3: It’s important.

Saturday 1 PM

Mine <3: I don’t know what to do, I need to talk to you.

Saturday 3PM

Mine <3: Not being able to tell you this is making me feel sick.

Mine <3: Please call when you are able.

Saturday 10PM

Mine <3: Jake, where are you?

Mine <3: I need to get you a sat phone next time.

Saturday 12-midnight

Mine <3: Please call me soon.

Mine <3: I don’t want you to hear this from anyone else.

Sunday 8AM

Mine <3: No mass this morning

Mine <3: When you get back into range you will know why

Mine <3: Call me when you can.

Jake didn’t know what to do, when he tried to call, his phone said it didn’t have enough service. The messages weren’t much more descriptive than the texts, just saying that the two of you needed to talk and that you had news.

He drove on, him and Bob sitting in a tense silence, by the time they had service again, Jake’s nerves were fried. He hit the call button on your contact as soon as he was able and had the phone pressed to his ear, “Come on baby, pick up, pick up, pick up…” he said under his breath. Jake could feel Bob’s eyes on him, but he didn’t care if his friend heard the call, he just had to know that your messages were about what he thought they were and not something to do with you.

Finally, on the fourth ring, you picked up the phone. Glancing at the dash, Jake realised that you had probably gone back to sleep after the eight o’clock messages, considering it was only eleven now.

“Jake?” you asked, your voice a little rough from disuse.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Jake asked, “I got all of your messages, and a few more. We know about Father John,” he rushed out, “What did you need to talk to me about?”

He heard you take a deep breath on the other side of the line and there was only a moment’s hesitation before you answered, “Oh, that was it. I just wanted to spare you from finding out from someone else is all,” you said.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Jake asked, “It sounded like there was something else. Have you been to the doctor?”

Another pause before, “No that’s it. I made an appointment for this week,” you said in reply.

“Okay, we are on our way back. I’ll be home in a few hours,” he said, still not totally convinced there wasn’t something else wrong.

“I’ll see you then, do you and Bob want me to make you something for lunch?” you asked, hoping a change in conversation would help distract him from your earlier panicked text messages.

“Sure, anything you want to make would be great,” he replied, “See you soon honey.”

“I love you,” he heard you say softly.

Jake’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, “I love you too.”

A second after he hung up the phone, Bob asked, “Everything alright?”

“I think so,” he replied, “I don’t know, she seemed like she was hiding something but I’m not sure what it would be. She has been acting strange recently.”

“Are you sure she isn’t pregnant?” Bob asked, trying to lighten the mood some.

Jake shrugged, trying to put the pieces together, “If that’s all it is, I’m going to be the happiest man in the world.”

Bob nodded, “I’m sure she is fine, you’ll know when you get home anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe she is just waiting to tell me when I get home,” Jake agreed, feeling a little lighter even though his mood was thoroughly soured by the passing of their church’s most trusted guide.

---

You were sitting in Jake’s truck, waiting for him to come back out of the house. He had been on edge ever since he had received the news about Father John, with his mission coming up at work and you being ‘ill’ he had a lot on his plate. He rushed out of the house, his tie held in his hand, and a few notecards almost falling out of his pocket. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck and put it into gear, backing out of the driveway and almost taking out your mailbox in his hurry.

“Jake!” you chastised, “We are only running a few minutes late and we are still an hour early for the funeral. It’s going to be alright,” you said, taking his hand in yours across the console and gently prying the tie from his grip. “Take a deep breath,” you tried, squeezing his hand in yours.

He glanced over at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You raised an eyebrow at him, rubbing one thumb over the back of his hand, he turned his attention back to the road for a moment before looking back at you. He took a deep breath, pushing it out and you felt his hand relax in yours.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes now focused on the road, “I’ve been a bit of an ass haven’t I?” he asked, his mind wandering back through the events of the morning. You hadn’t been feeling well and laid in bed much later than usual. When you struggled out of bed to make breakfast, against Jake’s insistence that he could do it, you had gotten sick at the smell of his coffee. Then Bob called and said that the florist had not yet delivered the flowers from the parish to Father John’s funeral service, then Decan Dan had called him and asked if Jake could give a short eulogy. With the mission coming up and all of the other things piled up on top, Jake hadn’t been in a good mood at all today. He took another deep breath, risking a glance over at you to see if you were mad, he had been rather short with you earlier.

“It’s alright, you are under a lot of stress right now,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile. While you loved him dearly, you knew that when Jake was feeling overwhelmed he had a tendency to snap out at people, it didn’t happen often and that didn’t make it okay, but in this case you had decided to let it go. The two of you had bigger fish to fry, Jake just didn’t know it yet.

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” he asked, his brows creasing in the middle as he slowed down to stop for a red light. Turning to look at you he just missed the look of guilt that had settled over you. It had been almost a week since Elizabeth had forced you to the urgent care for a check up where you discovered that you were pregnant. You just hadn’t been able to find a way to tell Jake.

“I have an appointment for later this week,” you replied, which wasn’t exactly a lie, you did have an appointment at the OBGYN for them to do a preliminary check on the baby.

“Okay, good,” he said, his brows still creased as he accelerated, the light turning green, “You don’t think there’s anything seriously wrong do you?” he asked quietly, you almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m sure that I’m fine, probably just too much stress from being in contact with you all the time,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Jake sighed, his face contorting into something that almost resembled anger, “It’s not funny Y/n, what if you have cancer, what if you are dying?” he asked seriously.

“I feel like I would know if I was dying, Jake,” you tried again, you were starting to get nervous, you were only a few minutes from the church and your goal had been to calm him down not rile him up more.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him with a raise of your hand, “I know I’ve had some weird symptoms recently but I think it could just be my hormones since I quit my birth control,” you said, trying to brush over the topic.

Jake’s mouth snapped shut and he guided the truck into the church’s almost empty parking lot. He flicked the key off and the humm of the engine cut out, leaving the two of you to sit in silence for a moment. You were going to try and say something again but at that moment Jake threw open his door and got out. You watched as he closed it, a little harder than necessary, before he wiped a hand down his face looking frustrated.

You knew that it would only piss him off further if you opened the door for yourself so you waited for him to come around to your side of the truck. When he opened the door for you, presenting you with his hand, you swung your legs across the seat, taking his hand, you pulled him towards you with a sharp tug. Jake wasn’t expecting it and he moved somewhat surprised towards the truck.

Reaching out, you tucked the collar of his shirt up, taking the tie you had saved from his grip earlier and slipping it around his neck. Wrapping it around itself and pulling the long end through, you tugged it gently until the knot rose to the top, just under his neck. Tucking the sides of his collar back down, you smoothed your hands over his chest, using the lapels of his suit jacket to pull him into a gentle kiss.

As the two of you parted he let out a quiet sigh, one of his hands resting on your cheek and the other on your thigh playing with the hem of your black dress, “I just don’t understand why you aren’t more worried,” he said, his eyes raising from your lap to your eyes.

You opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you, “No you had your turn to talk and now I get mine. You are my wife and I love and respect you dearly, but I am worried about you. Baby you went from drinking seven billion cups of coffee a day to throwing up at the smell of it. You have been acting strangely, eating pickles, and been overly emotional, and I mean that in the nicest way. I just think there is something wrong, and –”

Jake was cut off by you pulling him into a kiss, he tried to pull back from you to say something else, but your grip on him was too tight. When you finally parted, you rested your forehead against his, “You wonderful, stupid, caring man,” you said quietly opening your eyes to look into his.

You couldn’t wait any longer to tell him, you couldn’t keep him in any more suspense, “I’m pregnant, Jake,” you said, pulling back some so you could watch his face for a reaction, “I found out this weekend, Lizzie made me go to urgent care when I fainted and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t know how and I wanted it to be spec–”

Jake cut you off with another kiss, you could feel him smiling widely, his lips tight against yours. He pulled away with a laugh, taking a few steps away from you and the truck before turning back and pulling you into his arms in a tight hug, “Really?” was all he could think to ask.

“Yes,” you replied, pulling him tighter to you, “The woman at urgent care said maybe two weeks along, but I have an appointment this week with my doctor to get a better estimate.”

“Why were you in urgent care?” he asks suddenly concerned, “Wait, did you say that you fainted? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you said quietly, the look of joy slowly melting off your face.

“Hey, you’re my wife, you can tell me anything, especially if it has to do with your health, okay?” Jake asked, “Promise me you’ll tell me if something is wrong in the future?”

You nodded, “I promise,” you said and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

He helped you down from the truck, one hand braced against your nonexistent bump and the other supporting your back, a huge smile splitting his face.

“Honey?” you asked him.

“Yeah?” he replied, taking your hand and locking the truck.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to ruin his fun, “We are about to attend a funeral,” you said rather bluntly.

Jake looked at you, his face still forming a smile as he said, “Yes I know that,” he replied.

“Well you might want to try and wipe the smile off of your face then,” you told him with a giggle of your own, “Don’t want anyone thinking you’re glad the good father is dead or anything.”

Jake spluttered at your comment, the smile still on his face, “I don’t know if I can,” he said, trying his hardest to look sad. You just shook your head at him as you entered the church.

You helped Jake set up the church for the funeral, placing flower arrangements and pictures around the space, by the time you were done, the church was looking forlorn but brighter. The new priest who was going to be taking over for Father John was supposed to hold the funeral mass for the older priest and Jake was talking him through a few things. By the time people started to file into the church, you had taken a seat in a pew, feeling a bit light headed.

You pulled out a bottle of Gatorade, taking a sip and closing your eyes, letting the sugary drink work its way into your system.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Elisabeth asked, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your leg.

"A little dizzy," you replied, opening your eyes to see her looking at you with a bright smile, "This is so exciting! Have you thought of how to tell Jake?"

“How to tell Jake what?” Bob asked, scaring the life from you.

“Um, to tell Jake that…I broke a nail,” you said, your lie as unconvincing as the face you made trying to think of it. You could see Lizzie roll her eyes at your poor attempt at lying over Bob’s shoulder.

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” he asked, a knowing look on his face.

You tried to cover up the shock that struck you but all that could come out of your mouth was, “How did you know?”

“It was the way you talked to Jake on the phone last weekend, and how he’s smiling today. He can’t hide any emotion that crosses his mind can he?” Bob asked, chuckling a little, “Congratulations, I’m really happy for you two.”

You nibbled your bottom lip, "Thank you, he was so worried and so scared and I just couldn't keep it from him!" you whisper shouted, a small smile etched on your lips.

"You should have, he looks as happy as he did on your wedding day," she giggled, "People will get the wrong idea."

"What's up with Jake," Cyclone asked, joining his wife on the pew next to you.

"Err.." Lizzie offered.

“Jake’s sister-in-law is pregnant, we got the news five minutes ago,” you replied.

“That’s wonderful, but people are starting to notice,” Cyclone said, “Mrs. McCreedy has already asked me if you were pregnant, because that’s the only reason she could think of for him to be smiling.”

“Huh,” Bob said, “Well… That was a fairly close guess…”

Cyclone hummed, he turned around to wave down Peter and Matthew, the triplets having been left at home with a new babysitter. They were still too young to properly grasp the concept of a funeral and as this one was open casket, as per Father John’s request, The Simpsons’ didn’t really want to have to deal with the questions as well as manage their own grief.

The boys shimmied into the pew, walking past their parents to sit as close to you as possible.

“How are you two holding up?” you asked, wrapping your arms around the boys.

“I’m doing okay, but Matthew hasn’t slept too well since Father John’s falls,” Peter leaned in close to whispered into your ear, “He’s been having nightmares,”

“I have not!” Matthew protests, a deep blush turning his ears a dark burgundy and slowly creeping down his neck. Behind him, Elisabeth mouthed ‘He has’. You looked at Matthew with a frown, gently running your hand through his hair.

“There’s nothing wrong with having nightmares, it doesn’t make you any less brave. Jake and I have nightmares, and I’m sure Daddy does too,” you said, “And Peter used to have nightmares when he was your age.”

“No I didn’t! You’re a liar,” he exclaimed, jumping up from the seat, attracting looks from the people in the pews around you.

“Oh, so I didn’t have to hold you while you fell asleep after you watched an episode of Thomas The Tank Engine?” you asked him, your tone questioning.

“No,” he answered too quickly, “I’m not scared of a cartoon,” he added.

Matthew smiled next to him, “So if I ask to watch it later --”

“If you do that I will hide Mamma’s creepy old doll in your bed,” Peter said quickly.

The smile vanished from Matthew’s face and the two boys settled down, their parents both giving them harsh looks for drawing attention during the funeral. Jake helped to lead the proceedings and by the end of the services, the smile he was trying so hard to keep off of his face was still there.

“Mr. Seresin,” Mrs. McCreedy called, “Why is it that you have been smiling this whole service, is there something good you’d like to share with the group.”

You quickly joined Jake’s side, plastering a smile on your own face before answering, “Well Mrs. McCreedy, just before the service we received word from Texas that our Sister-in-law is expecting another baby,” you said excitedly, “And we are just so thrilled for them.”

When Jake looked at you, a bit of confusion on his face, you nudged him, hard. He immediately turned back to the older woman, “Oh yes, my brother Tony’s wife is expecting another little one,” he said with a smile.

“Well,” Mrs. McCreedy said with a smile, “How blessed for them, maybe the two of you will be so lucky soon enough.”

“We hope so,” you replied.

Once everyone had a convincing story as to why Jake couldn’t keep the smile off his face, the rest of the day went rather smoothly. On the way home, he looked at you and you could feel the question he was about to ask, “We don’t tell anyone yet but our families,” you said quietly, “I just, I want to keep our little bean a secret a while longer, so they are just ours.”

Jake nodded, “Alright, if that’s what you want darlin’.”

“I was thinking we could ask Bob and Maria to be the Godparents, what do you think?” you asked him, taking his hand in yours.

Jake gave you his megawatt smile before answering, “I think that sounds great, I’m sure they will be so honoured.”

You smiled back at him, bringing his hand down to rest on your still flat stomach for the rest of the drive home.

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