Daphne Vs. Daddy

The red plus sign stares up at me, burning into my retinas.

I’m

Pregnant

This is not even possible. I can’t be pregnant. I’m on birth control pills! I pop one every morning without fail.

Okay, well, except for the mornings that I didn’t pop one. Which, if we’re being honest and apparently, I have no choice in the matter, happens waaayyyy too often. Like, at least once or twice a week. It’s just hard to remember to do something every single morning. I have a life, you know!

Which brings me back to this little pee stick in my hands. I guess I have two lives now.

I sit down with a thunk on the toilet. What the hell is Anders going to say? We’ve talked about having kids. It was a thing we were going to do. At least he isn’t dead set against the idea, right? At least he isn’t going to be pissed, right?

Or maybe he will. He’s busy at the university and he’s writing a new book on the history of armor in Spain and...

Yeah, we’re busy. He’s busy. He might want a child like he wants a hole in his head.

I hear the front door open and a jingle of keys. “Honey, I’m home!” Anders calls out. It’s our little joke – we pretend that we’re this 1950s couple who greets each other like that every day and sometimes, I’ll even throw on a little apron and heels to complete the mirage.

Except, we’re about to have a child, which is a very 1950s thing to do. And I definitely don’t have an apron or high heels on.

Frantically, I look around the bathroom. I have to ditch this test, at least until I’ve had a chance to tell Anders. I can’t exactly have him figure it out by finding the test, right? Out of sheer desperation, I shove the pregnancy test into the leaves of the fern in the corner, rearrange the leaves so it isn’t too

noticeable, I hope, and flush the toilet. A quick run of the water in the sink and I can pretend like I totally was not just peeing on a stick.

I come out of the bathroom, a smile firmly plastered on my face, to find Anders waiting for me in the hallway. “I have a surprise for you…” he says in a happy voice. His face is lit up with excitement and despite the knowledge that our world is about to be turned upside down, I can’t help but smile in response to the happiness on his face.

“Hi babe,” I say, and we kiss, but I can tell Anders isn’t into it. He wants to show me the surprise. “C’mon, c’mon,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hallway and up to the front door.

He stops me and says, “Close your eyes and I’ll guide you. Should I get a blindfold? I should probably tie a tie around your eyes so you don’t peek.”

“I won’t peek,” I promise with a laugh. I have no idea what is outside, but for the moment, his excitement is helping me ignore The News, and that’s a feeling I’m rather enjoying, thankyouverymuch.

I obediently close my eyes and he guides me out of the front door and down the steps carefully. We moved to a townhouse not too long ago, and it still amazes me how…immediate the outside world is. No more riding down an elevator or taking three flights of stairs just to get outside. I can feel the light evening breeze on my face, and cars honking as they pass by.

Just as I start to wonder if we’re ever going to get to wherever we’re supposed to be going, Anders stops me. “Okay, darlin’, open your eyes,” he says, and I just know that if he’d been able to arrange for fireworks to go off at this very moment, he would have.

I slowly open my eyes, and...

An Aston Martin? A Vanquish Zagato Coupe?! I stagger a little, the shock hitting me like a tidal wave. “Oh my god, Anders!!!!” I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!!!”

I move a little closer, almost afraid to touch it, listening as he tells me all of the many amazing features. What I notice is the dark eggplant purple that it’s been painted – my favorite color. My favorite car maker. My dream car.

Then I see. And then I realize. And then I put it together.

Oh god.

It’s a coupe! I can’t drive a fucking coupe! I’m pregnant! Where is the baby going to go??

My tears of joy quickly turn into tears of panic. “Anderssssssss!!” I wail in panic. “I can’t drive thiisssssss!!!” I’m blubbering now, I really am, and all of the people who’d stopped by on the street to take pictures of the Aston, which really, who could blame them, are now staring at me.

Funsies.

Anders wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him, tilting my head up to look him in the eye. “Now darlin’, you know I have enough money to buy this for you. I could buy a hundred for you if you wanted them. So don’t worry about it. It’s my gift to you.”

“It’s not the money,” I snuffle out. I look up and around at everyone passing by us. There is no way I’m blurting this news out on the street corner. “Let’s go inside for a minute.”

“You don’t want to go for a ride in the Aston?” he asks, shocked, and I think this is when it finally hits him that I wasn’t just crying happy tears. He’s suitably incredulous, as he should be. He knows how long I’ve drooled over Astons. He knows how much I wanted the Zagato in particular. He knows that my favorite color is eggplant. He knows all of that and that’s exactly why he surprised me with this perfect car.