I know it's a little late, but I wanted to do a little something for Valentines Day. I was aiming for a sweet oneshot, let's see if I succeeded :)
Enjoy!
Amelia woke up with her alarm, which she normally never set on the weekends. But this wasn't just any other Saturday, this was one of those special Saturdays. On special days, she got up to make a real breakfast. Not the usual bowl of cereal or occasional leftovers that made up their normal day breakfasts, though.
Nope, today she had a big breakfast planned. Eggs, grits, bacon, sausage, pancakes, the works. Since she was not much of a morning person and her husband couldn't cook to save his life, this was a treat. It made the alarm slightly less annoying.
Amelia slammed the alarm off with practiced aim, and rolled onto her back, stretching. She strained her arms over her head, and then let them flop back down. When her right arm didn't make contact with a protesting body, she looked over at it.
The other side of the bed was empty. Frowning, Amelia propped herself up on her elbows, looking around blearily. After giving a large yawn she called, "Iggy?"
No answer. The shower wasn't running, and she didn't hear anyone downstairs. About to drag herself out of bed, Amelia noticed a patch of white on Arthur's nightstand. Crawling across the bed, she picked up the note paper, frowning at the elegant scrawl.
'Work emergency. Mei called in sick for the Beijing meeting and I'm the only other one who can speak fluent Mandarin. I know what day it is, and I'm very sorry. I'll be home as soon as I can, love. -Arthur'
Amelia scowled at the note for a long minute, and then flopped face down, groaning into the sheets. She wasn't mad at Mei, the Chinese woman was a personal friend and she knew that if Mei called in sick, she was really sick. She could, however, be mad at the company for not hiring more Chinese speakers. Honestly! They were a branch of an international publishing company, it seemed logical enough to her. Arthur could speak three languages, not counting English, so this wasn't the first time it had happened. At least most of their meetings were done through conference calls, so they didn't have to fly him all over the world, but still.
Ugg, this is so messed up. I'm the freaking ER doctor here, I should be getting called into work more than him, not the other way around!
Normally she wouldn't be so irritated, but this wasn't just any Valentine's Day. It was a very special Valentine's Day she had been thinking about for well over a week. Amelia really knew she should have spoken to Arthur as soon as she knew, but...they'd never discussed it, they hadn't been trying. She just didn't know how to tell him.
Amelia trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, scowling at the stove. Then, deciding not to let the ingredients she'd bought for the occasion go to waste, tossed a pan on the stove and cranked up the heat. It wasn't long before the smell of bacon filled the kitchen. Amelia took a deep breath, letting the delightful aroma sooth her temper.
Normally she did the bacon first, and then used the grease to fry the eggs, but suddenly she was ravenous. Unable to wait, she fished out a smaller pan and got two eggs going on it. By the time she got the water boiling for the grits, the first batch of bacon was just barely cool enough to eat. She managed, though, picking it up between two fingers just long enough to grab a bite before hurriedly dropping it.
It was worth the slight tongue scalding she got, and after that nothing was cooking fast enough. Amelia got the batter onto a skillet as soon as she could mix it, forgoing the usual method and just making one giant pancake. Munching carefully on still hot bacon, she hovered over the remaining dishes, occasionally taking a deep breath of the aroma now filling the kitchen.
When everything was finally ready, Amelia poured herself a big mug of coffee, added three sugars, and sat down to eat. After a moment of contemplation, she put all the bacon and both eggs on one half of the pancake, folded it in half over them, and chowed down. Holy crap this is awesome, she thought dreamily, eating as fast as she could chew. Why haven't I done this before?
Within minutes she was licking the grease from her fingers, belly full. Humming happily, she reached for her coffee. Halfway to it, though, her hand froze.
For a moment she frowned, not understanding what was happening. Then she was making a mad dash for the downstairs bathroom, hand clamped over her mouth. She slid to a stop at the toilet on sweat-clad knees in the nick of time, her breakfast making a reappearance.
Amelia clutched the porcelain bowl, groaning. Crap, crap, crap, she thought wearily. Okay so maybe the doctor was right about the whole early leave thing.
Her thought was cut off as the second half of her breakfast decided to follow the first half. If she wasn't so tired all of a sudden she would be wanting to punch something. Amelia reached up with a shaky hand, pulling the lever to flush the toilet as she slumped against the wall. A part of her wished Arthur were there, while another part was emphatically glad he wasn't. She hated the idea of having to break the news to him this way.
When Amelia trudged back to the kitchen, the previous aroma of bacon and pancakes and eggs had turned sickening. Fighting not to gag, she went around to open the windows and lit every candle she could find, holding her breath as much as possible as she hurriedly cleaned up. Amelia only stepped back to admire her work when the entire kitchen was spotless, the counters cleaned and sanitized, the dishes done and dried.
Amelia didn't think of herself as a cleaning person. Arthur was the resident neat freak, and they had an agreement that if he kept the house clean she would do the taxes. It was a win-win as far as they were concerned, but suddenly the entire house seemed filthy.
The doorbell rang several hours later, snapping Amelia's fierce concentration. She stepped away from the table she'd been mercilessly polishing, throwing down the rag with a huff. Not caring she was still clad in the boy shorts and a ratty tank top she slept in, Amelia marched to the front door. Yanking it open, she demanded, "What?"
It wasn't until she saw the deliveryman twitch slightly that she felt chagrinned. Amelia knew she wasn't normally this grumpy, and it wasn't nice to take it out on innocent bystanders. It wasn't something a hero would do. Sighing wearily, she said, "Sorry, it's not my best day."
"Right, um, delivery for an Amelia Jones-Kirkland?"
"That's me." She said, noticing for the first time just what he was holding. It was a slender vase holding six roses, thorns intact.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, handing it to her and making a break for his van as soon as he could.
Amelia had gone from grumpy to cloud nine in one point eight seconds. She closed the door behind her as she went back inside, all but floating to the dining room table. Deciding it had been polished to within an inch of its life already, she set the vase down to admire it. Roses were her favorite, but only red ones, and she hated it when people cut off the thorns. In her opinion, it should be all or nothing.
Just the fact it was red roses that still had their thorns shortened the list of possible givers considerably, but Amelia had a hunch on who it was. When she checked the attached tag, her suspicion was confirmed. On one side it had the obligatory name of the flower shop. On the other was printed a brief message: 'In the hope to again meet; in a short time to make the absence sweet.' Short, simple, and most defiantly something Arthur would write.
Amelia didn't move around the house so much as she floated around it. She still cleaned, the urge to make the entire house spotless as strong as ever, but the aggression was gone. It wasn't long after that the grandfather clock in the downstairs hall chimed one o'clock, and it wasn't until then Amelia remembered she'd technically not ingested any breakfast.
Deciding simplicity was the best policy, she threw together a few cheese sandwiches. Amelia was taking a bite out of the first one when someone rapped smartly on the door. Frowning, she drifted out of the kitchen and back to the front door.
I'm popular today, she thought idly. Stuffing the sandwich into her mouth, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"Mrs. Jones-Kirkland?"
Amelia reached up, taking a bite as she transferred the sandwich back to her hand. "Yep. What can I do ya for?" she asked cheerfully as she chewed.
Keeping a straight face, the lady handed her a flat silver box. Amelia eyed it, but there were no markings, and it was roughly the size of half a pizza box. "Uh, thanks."
"Have a good day," the lady said, turning to hurry back to her van. Amelia took a step out the door to get a good look at what sort of vehicle was parked in their driveway as she did. She perked up when she noticed the elegant script of a chocolate company.
Ducking back inside, Amelia kicked the door shut and stuffed the sandwich back into her mouth so she could turn the lock. She brought the box to the dining room table, and set about carefully easing off the lid. Resting on top of the covering paper was a small note card.
Amelia plucked it from the tissue paper, reading as she munched her sandwich. '60 seconds = 1 hour, 365 days = 1 year, 1 second without you = 100 years alone.'
Amelia broke into a grin for the second time that day. Arthur loathed math with a passion, but she found it downright fun. Instead of some lovey-dovey quote or another he'd branched into unknown territory this time, her territory.
She made quick work of the remaining sandwiches so she could have something somewhat healthy in her system that day before she finished opening the box. The next few minutes were spent sampling the assortment, something she did with great relish. Of the few things that ranked higher than hamburgers, chocolate was at the top of that short list.
Amelia made herself stop after four pieces, putting the box away and returning to her cleaning. Once she'd done everything but sweep the ceilings, she moved to the upstairs. It was then a dilemma occurred to her.
Seeing as she had married a neat freak, there wasn't all that much for her to do, no serious deep cleaning. The upstairs in particular had gotten a spring cleaning just last weekend. Within an hour or two there wasn't really anything left for her to do.
Amelia was trying to decide if it would be worth it to wash all the sheets when someone rapped rhythmically on the door, followed by a tap of the doorbell. She glanced at the clock before trotting downstairs. Only 3:50. If these international meetings stayed true to form, there would be a lot of paperwork and coordinating that had to take place afterward. On any other day Arthur was home by five, at the latest. She'd be lucky to see him before eight tonight, though.
By the time Amelia reached the front door, she'd settled into a stupor of melancholy. When she opened the door, she only blinked a few times when she found herself faced with something obviously not human. Frowning, she leaned over to peer around the oversized bear at the tiny woman holding it. "Uh...
"Mrs. Jones-Kirkland?" the lady chirped brightly.
"Yes," she said carefully.
Immediately the bear was thrust into her arms.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" said the lady, all but prancing back to her truck.
Amelia stepped back inside, shutting and locking the door. She trudged into the living room before holding the bear at arm's length, studying it. The thing was four feet tall from the top of its ears to the tips of its dangling feet. Toffee covered fur covered it, the round eyes dark brown. It was cute and soft and had just the right amount of stuffing.
Then Amelia noticed the red tag tied around its neck. She shifted the bear, hooking one arm around it so she could grab the red cord. Another one? she thought, surprised as she flicked open the small card.
'Fair lady, when I gave my heart to thee; It passed into thy lifelong regency. -Gilbert Parker'
Amelia stared at it for a long minute. Then, slowly, she closed it and untied the cord. She set them both on the freshly polished coffee table, set the bear on the couch, and then laid down with it. She wrapped her arms around it, burying her face in its soft fur.
Why's he doing all this? she wondered, sniffing. It's really nice but Arthur hasn't done anything like this since we were dating. He gets me things sometimes, and he gives me really sweet cards with things like that on them on special days, but not so much in one day. Why? Did something happen? Is he trying to say something? He's not...no, he wouldn't cheat on me. He wouldn't. I might not be able to read the damn atmosphere but I'd know if he was seeing someone! What if it's me, then? Did I do something?
Even though there was no one around to see or hear her, Amelia kept her face buried in the sympathetic bear's belly until she was sure the tears were gone. Brushing them away angrily and reaching for a tissue, she felt her mood swing back to that almost furious resolve she'd had earlier that morning. Blowing her nose with a determined frown, Amelia decided that whatever the problem was, she would find out. If it was her, she'd return the favor. It might be too late to get chocolate or other things, not that he liked the same things she did anyway, but there were other things she could do.
The first thing Amelia did was take a long, hot shower. She scrubbed herself down with a ferocity similar to that which she'd given the house earlier that day. Only when she was satisfied she was clean did she step out and start drying off.
Deciding to wait on the getting dressed bit until later, she threw on some sweats and returned to the kitchen. It was one of the first times she appreciated Arthur's insistence on keeping fruit on hand, something about her having a tendency to go for the junk food. She fished the strawberries from the fridge, and unearthed the stash of candy bars she was sure he didn't know about.
While a Hershey's bar was melting in the microwave, Amelia flipped through the binder where she kept laminated printouts of their most-enjoyed recipes. She selected one of Arthur's favorites, which she was pleased to find she had all the ingredients for, and set it out as the microwave dinged.
Amelia soon learned there was an art to dipping strawberries, one she didn't know. After a few sloppy attempts, she gave up on the dipping and went straight to the pouring method. She spooned the chocolate over the strawberries, flipped them, and then poured more over the other side. It didn't look pretty, but it did look good, which she thought was preferable.
After coaxing the large wax paper-covered plate into the fridge for them to set, Amelia got to work. She was very glad she'd married a meat-and-potatoes sort of man. Well, he did enjoy fine dining on occasion but for the most part Arthur seemed quite happy with things equivalent to bangers and mash.
After a bit of poking around she decided to use the steaks she'd originally planned to marinate to make beef wellington. Amelia had absolutely no idea why it was called that, and frankly she thought it was a very odd name, particularly since the food itself was very good. It was essentially a steak in a pastry that was baked. While she'd never managed to get the 'golden flaky' texture she'd read it was supposed to have, they did turn out quite well. Arthur certainly seemed to enjoy them.
Amelia brought her laptop into the kitchen, setting it well away from the cooking area and bringing up iTunes. She found what she'd labeled her 'Pumped' playlist, hitting play before she got to work. As she washed her hands, Amelia started bobbing her head to Queen's 'We Will Rock You'.
She went about the rest of her meal preparations in a similar manner, occasionally spouting lyrics in a threatening tone to whatever she was working with. This went on until she was sure she had almost everything ready. Amelia turned off the music, glancing carefully around the kitchen. Okay, the main course is in the oven. Check. The potato wedges are baked, seasoned, and sitting covered on the stove so they won't get cold. Check. Broccoli is steamed and also covered. Check.
Amelia looked at the clock. 6:15. Okay, so maybe I'm a little early. Oh well, at the very least there's half an hour before the b.w. is ready to come out. I've got half an hour to get sexy.
Humming to herself, good mood reestablished and ferocity dulled, Amelia climbed the stairs to their bedroom. She shed the sweats, putting them away and yanking open her underwear drawer. After careful consideration, she selected what she felt was her best set. Then she moved on to her closet, pursing her lips as she flipped through her small collection of dresses. She wore scrubs to work, so unless there was an event of some sort Amelia was an extremely casual dresser. She literally wore things until they fell apart. That said, she enjoyed utilizing the opportunity to be a tasteful blend of sexy and pretty when the chance presented itself.
After careful consideration, Amelia took out one of her favorites. It was one she'd gotten for herself for the Fourth of July, but had loved it so much that she had started wearing it out. Arthur probably would have protested this more, since the bodice was blue with white stars and the skirt red and white striped. Overall it was a bit gaudy by normal standards. Amelia had actually found it in a costume shop to be honest. That said, the strapless top had a deep V neck, the bust had a built in push up bra, and the flowing skirt barely reached mid-thigh. Frankly the only reason Arthur hadn't protested her even buying the thing in the first place was because she'd made sure to model it first.
Amelia kept the makeup application to a minimum, just a touch of mascara and a dash of lip-gloss. She didn't wear a lot anyway, but she doubted she'd be taking the time to remove it later. Her hair she just brushed out, deciding to leave it as it was, moving on the jewelry. After some consideration she decided to maintain her theme of simplicity, just donning a set of star shaped stud earrings. Besides the fact they matched her outfit and wouldn't get in the way if things went the way she wanted, they were her favorite of the pieces he'd given her.
The timer for the oven was going off when Amelia pranced barefooted down the steps, humming to herself as she went. She flicked off the oven, but left the pan in to preserve heat. The clock read 6:45.
Well...it seemed like he left awful early. The earlier he leaves the earlier he gets back. He'll be home by seven.
Seven o'clock came and went. Amelia, who was not known for her patience, started to pace. More than once she wanted to call him, only to remember her previous concerns. If something was wrong, and it was her, she didn't want to make things worse by bugging him.
By seven thirty the only reason she hadn't hit the wine was because of her current condition. By seven forty five she was brooding on the couch, throwing back sodas. By eight o'clock she realized she was tired. Blaming it on the emotional seesaw she'd been on all day, Amelia stretched herself out on the couch, cuddling with the teddy bear as she closed her eyes.
When the garage door opened at eight fifteen, Amelia didn't hear it. It wasn't until a key turned in the lock that her eyes snapped open. Sitting bolt upright, she froze, listening.
As the door shut a familiar voice called, "Amelia? I'm sorry about today, love, I-
Amelia was off the couch, flying down the hall and to the door leading to the garage by the time he'd finished saying her name. She threw herself at her husband, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. Arthur stumbled back, almost falling down at the unexpected greeting. Only the fact that it wasn't the first time kept him on his feet.
"Whoa! Where's the fire, love?" he asked, though he hugged her back.
"Whatever it is I did I'm sorry," she blurted, pulling back just enough to look at him.
Arthur frowned. He looked tired, though his eyes were as bright as ever. "I don't understand."
"It's just that you kept sending me things, and I really liked them and they were really sweet but it's been years since you've done so much in such a short amount of time. And the little cards were really sweet too and I love the flowers and the chocolates and the bear is damn adorable but I got worried because you don't usually do this and I thought something might be wrong-
"Slow down, slow down," Arthur protested, gripping her shoulders gently and holding her at arms length. "Either I misunderstood you, or you thought you'd done something wrong."
"Well I had to of. I mean I know you felt bad about having to leave but not that bad."
"No, love, no. It's not you that did something, I thought it was something I'd done," Arthur said carefully, frowning.
Now Amelia frowned too. "Huh? You? What'd you do?"
"That's what I wanted to know. I was going to take today to get it all sorted, but then I got called in and I knew I'd be away all day. I know I've had to work longer hours, but it's just until they find a replacement for Lucy while she's on maternity leave. You've been acting strangely lately as it is and I was afraid having to cancel an entire day on such short notice would make things even worse."
Amelia held very still as the truth hit her. Oh fiddle sticks and she'd thought she'd been subtle, too! Yes she'd been acting a little differently, but it wasn't...oh thank God she hadn't done anything. Well, nothing like she'd thought she'd done anyway.
"I'm sorry I've been acting weird, Arthur. That's actually what I wanted to tell you about today. I know I should have told you sooner and I really meant to but I just had no idea had to do it."
Arthur waited, a weary look on his face. Amelia decided to take the Band-Aid approach.
"I'm pregnant," she blurted.
Her husband's first reaction was to stare at her as though she'd grown a second head. Then, slowly, she saw the pieces falling into place. She'd been acting weird, yes, but that was just a mix of nervousness, guilt, and trying to hide giveaways. A missed cycle, not taking the birth control pills, avoiding alcohol, things Arthur would have few problems putting together before she could tell him herself.
"Pregnant?" he repeated after a long minute. He didn't sound...anything really, just asking for a confirmation.
Amelia gave a careful nod. A wide smile started to spread across Arthur's face. Amelia, who had been braced for the worst, gave a squeak of relieved surprised as Arthur took her face in his hands and kissed her.
When he pulled back, he gave a laugh. "You're going to have a child."
When his eyes dropped to her still flat stomach, Amelia took one of his hands and laid it across her belly. "We're going to have a child," she corrected.
That earned her another, longer, kiss. Only then did he pause, sniffing. "You've been cooking?"
"And cleaning," she said, pulling him into the kitchen. "The hormones have been all over the place today. I think we'll have to warm it up, but it should still be good."
Arthur moved to help her, but Amelia held up a hand. "Oh no, buster. Go get drinks, set the table, just don't touch the food. I don't want anything set on fire again."
Her husband gave her an indigent look. "That was hardly intentional, Amelia."
"You put a fork in the microwave with a paper plate of corn, Iggy."
"How was I supposed to know corn was flammable?"
Amelia just smiled, shooing him away from the oven. As much as she felt like an idiot for worrying now, she found that wasn't overly surprised by Arthur's reaction. Arthur was Arthur, she wouldn't have married him otherwise.
Hope 'yall liked it :)
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