Mid-May...

As Mel Torme crooned from the record player in Aunt Ruthie's living room, the kindly matron and Billie drank tea, as Harry gulped down milk, and ate cake as they celebrated Aunt Ruthie's birthday. Harry, full of energy, invited his aunt to dance while Billie, feeling fatigued, watched. Billie enjoyed watching Aunt Ruthie and Harry dance. She thought that it was sweet that Harry was so close to his aunt, especially since he didn't have a mother to coddle him, or to more or less meddle in his life as her own.

Once the music changed over to a new song, Harry gave Aunt Ruthie a peck on her cheek and escorted her back to the sofa with Billie.

"Oh, Harold, you have always been a gem of a dancer!" laughed Aunt Ruthie.

"And you have always been light on your feet, birthday girl," he laughed.

Harry turned to Billie. "Come on, Billie. Got one more dance in me!"

"I wish I could, but I'm really tired, Harry. Maybe next time, huh?" she said, leaning on the arm of the sofa.

"You're feeling alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all."

"Oh," he said, studying her.

"Harold, dear," said Aunt Ruthie, "I've been having trouble with my bathroom sink. Would you look into it for me?"

"Um, sure, Aunt Ruthie. Keep an eye on Billie, okay?"

"Harry, I'm tired, not sick!" protested Billie.

"Well, you look a little pale, Billie," observed Harry.

"I'll look after her, Harold," said Aunt Ruthie.

"Okay," he said, giving Billie a quick peck on the lips before disappearing up the steps.

Aunt Ruthie asked, "Are you sure that you are alright, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," assured Billie. "I think that it was just a long work week. We had a lot of cases to go through, and then last night, we didn't end session until after one."

"I see," nodded Aunt Ruthie. "I also noticed that you been a little, well, careful around your bust area."

"Well, they are a little sore, Aunt Ruthie. I have been sleeping on my stomach lately, and I think that it's not good for my breasts."

"Hmmm. Well, a simple change in position always help, my dear," advised Aunt Ruthie. "Billie, there was a reason why I sent Harold off, and that was so we could talk. Billie dear, are you serious about my nephew?"

Billie smiled. "Yes, I am, Aunt Ruthie. I'm in love with him. I think I've been in love with him ever since my first case in his courtroom."

"Good. I'm glad. Forgive me for prying, but every time that Harold walks on air over a young lady, I get concerned since, well, Harold tends to put his whole self into a relationship, and when that happens, and things go wrong, he would...'go off to left field', so to speak," explained Ruthie.

"What do you mean by Harry going 'left field,' Aunt Ruthie?" asked Billie.

"Well, when that Von Mallet girl left him, Harold decided against our advice, mine and Otto's, to become a magician. It broke my heart that that trollop had made him that way."

"Harry was going to give up law to be a magician?" questioned Billie, stunned.

She knew that Harry was good at magic, but she also knew that he wasn't that good.

"Oh, yes. But Otto and I were relieved when he came to his senses and announced that he was going to law school, thanks to a ventriloquist dummy."

"What?"

"I know how it sounds, dear, but it's true. It also didn't hurt that the agent who was going to sign him died of a massive heart attack at the talent agency. Poor soul. But Harold made the right choice at the end, including shaving off that awful mustache!"

Billie cringed at the thought of Harry having a mustache.

"But going back to Harold and you, I can honestly say that you're the first young lady that I feel good about where my nephew is concerned. I just ask that you comfort him when he needs it, scold him when it's appropriate, and love him always. I think you're going to make him a good wife someday, Billie. And with you here with him, I'll be able to join my Otto in peace."

"Well, thank you for your confidence in me, but we haven't talked about getting married. At least not yet. Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Please."

"When Harry and I talked about that girl, he said that she insulted him. Do you know what she said to him?"

Aunt Ruthie nodded. "She told him that he could never fit into her world no matter how hard she tries to change him. She said...no one would hire a clown as their lawyer. Let alone appoint one as a judge."

Although she was weak and pale, Billie's blue raged with blue fire. "That bitch!"

Aunt Ruthie raised a brow at Billie's expletive, which Billie caught.

"Excuse my language, Aunt Ruthie, but she was obviously the clown who gave up a good thing in a talented jurist like Harry. I would love to see her face when she finds out that Harry is now a judge. If she would show her ugly face again."

"In spite of your phrasing, Billie, you took the words right out of my mouth. Harry being a clown, my foot. Pfft! I can vouch for him being raised by a prince of man, whom I was proud to call my brother. Yes, he didn't go to country clubs, but he worked hard to provide for and raise his son. With our help, of course. And Harry turned out better for it! Why, people laughed at me for marrying my Otto because he worked in an ice cream shop. But what can I say? I loved ice cream!"

Harry came down the steps as the women heartedly laugh.

"Hey, you two! What's so funny?"

"I was just telling Billie about how I met your Uncle Otto."

"Ah yes! He made you a chocolate fudge sundae, on the house!"

"With sprinkled nuts," added Aunt Ruthie.

"Yeah, that's right! Well, I didn't see anything wrong with the plumbing, Aunt Ruthie. Maybe the problem resolved it."

"Perhaps it did, Harold!" beamed Aunt Ruthie.

Harold took one look at Billie and said, "I'm taking you home, Billie. You don't look so well."

"I told you that I was tired, Harry, not sick."

"Well, if I may make a suggestion, my dears?" intervened Aunt Ruthie. "Why not talk to a doctor about your fatigue, Billie. It might just be nothing, but it could be something that needs to be nipped in the bud. You never know."

"I guess," relented Billie. "See you later, Aunt Ruthie."

"Likewise, Billie. Drive safely, Harold. And zip up your jacket!"

Harry helped Billie with her coat, zipped up his jacket, and left, waving good-bye to Aunt Ruthie as she watched them drive off.

As everyone was gathering for the first session of court, Billie sat listlessly at her desk, absently shuffling her files. Dan watched her repetitive act, more so paying attention and smiling as he noted a "difference" about the public defender. He got up and walked around to her view, waving a hand in front of her face. Yet, Billie was too engrossed in her task to notice.

"Hey!" he shouted.

Billie slowly looked up at Dan, with a sickly glare.

"What?" she hissed.

"How you doing over here?" he beamed.

"None of your damn business, Mr. District Attorney! Now buzz off!" she said, returning to her files.

"Fine!" snorted Dan.

He crossed over to Mac's desk.

"Hey, Mac? You noticed a change in Billie lately?"

"Oh, so you now realized how cranky she's been acting?" asked Mac.

"You mean this isn't the first time that she was in bad mood? I was talking about her chest! Have you observed how her breasts got a little bigger?"

"Dan, only you would notice something like that while the rest of us normal people would notice unusual behavior before anything else," sighed Mac, preparing case dockets for Harry.

"Well, I would had caught on to her attitude eventually. Like now, for example. So, how long has she's been in a bad mood?"

"About a few days," replied Mac. "Didn't you hear how she kicked the parking meter in front of the court house?"

"But she doesn't have a car."

"I know!"

Dan turned to see Bull join them.

"What do you think about Billie's mood, Bull?" asked Dan.

"It's weird that she's not acting like her usual chipper self. Maybe she's going through some personal problems."

"You think?" said Dan, sarcastically. "Took a lot of gray matter to figure that out, right?"

Seeing the men stealing looks at the public defender, Selma joined them.

"Are you three talking about Billie?" she queried.

"Yeah," answered Mac. "You noticed, too, huh?"

"Who wouldn't had noticed a moody, skinny public defender who's eating twice her body weight and looking paler than usual?"

"Yeah, she's eating more than Bull. I still got chills watching Billie nearly stab Bull with a fork over a plate of imitation meatloaf!" mused Dan.

Dan stopped laughing as he felt Bull's eyes penetrate through his skull.

"What do you think it is, Selma?" asked Bull, relieving Dan.

Selma shrugged. "Let's see, for a woman her age, it could be the following: the bills are due, the neighbor's stealing her paper-"

"Her paper?" questioned Mac.

"Well, the bastard's stealing mine!" countered Selma. "Anyway, it also could be a stomach thing."

"Like food poisoning!" exclaimed Dan. "The meatloaf! I should have known that that damn food was tainted!

"Ooh! Good thing I didn't get it," said Bull, wiping his forehead in relief.

"Maybe we should get her to go home and rest," suggested Mac.

"Or maybe to the hospital," observed Dan.

They watched Billie take out a bottle of coke from her case and flick open the top, stick a straw in it, and start slowing slurping.

Everyone watched as the dark liquid slowly disappeared from the bottle. Selma approached Billie at her desk.

"Billie, sweetie. Are you alright?"

Billie ignored Selma, continuing to enjoy her drink.

"Billie, you know that food and drinks ain't allowed in the courtroom."

Billie pierced Selma's eyes with her own as the remaining liquid was sucked dried. Billie belched and handed the bottle to Selma.

"Happy?" snapped the lawyer.

Selma examined the bottle and said, "Sure. Thanks."

Selma walked over to her co-workers, who were well aware to not cross Billie's path for the rest of the evening.

"Well, I tried," said Selma, turning over the soda bottle. "Get a look at this. Not a drop left!"

Suddenly, Harry appeared at the door, waiting to be announced.

"Gee, guys? Forget what time it is?" asked Harry, startling the group.

Everyone took their place as Bull announced Harry's presence.

Harry got a look at Billie and didn't like what he saw.

"Ms. Young? Kindly approach the bench, please?"

Billie, shook off a nauseous feeling and did as she was asked.

Harry leaned over to her and whispered, "I thought I told you to stay in bed!"

"You're not the boss of me in my house, Harry. And I told you that if I felt fine, then I would come to work. And I feel fine," retorted Billie, attempting to control her tone.

"Billie, you are in no shape to defend anybody. You said the doctor told you to rest, and right now, you look like you're gonna hurl any second!"

"I had some soda and I'm fine, Harry. I feel more than capable to handle my clients tonight. At least I didn't swallow a damn circus whistle like someone I know."

"Billie-"

"Can we get to work, Your Honor?"

"Fine," sighed Harry,"let's get to work, Ms. Young."

"Thank you," Billie said, returning to her table.

"You're welcome," muttered Harry. He turned to Mac. "Alright, Mac. Who's up to bat?"

Mac announced, "Your Honor, the People vs. -"

BLEEEEEEEEEECH!

Everyone in the courtroom turned their attention to Billie, who was vomiting behind the gallery. Fortunately, the people sitting in the front row already took off.

In the sea of twisted and disgusted faces, Harry announced, "Well, looks like we made a world record in cutting to a break. Recess: thirty minutes, and Mac? Call Art for clean up in Aisle Five."

"Sure thing, sir," replied Mac, dialing Maintenace as Billie continued vomiting.

"Billie? Billie? Come on! It wasn't that bad. At least the first row cleared out for you. Billie, talk to me!"

After the second session ended, with a replacement public defender, Harry, along with Bull and Mac, tried to talk Billie out of the Ladies' Room, but she refused to come out. Therefore, the men shared their most embarrassing experiences with her as women walked past the restroom, uncomfortably watching three men with their ears at the door.

Finally, Selma, with Billie's coat, briefcase, and a laundry bag containing her freshly laundered clothes, showed up.

"I hope you know that women are starting to make complaints about the three of you," she said.

"Selma, could you get Billie out of their and into my chambers?" asked Harry. "We tried to get her to come out, but she won't."

Selma replied. "Okay. I'll have her out in a jiffy."

Just then, Dan came from around the corner.

"So, 'The Regurgitator' is still in there, huh?" mocked Dan.

"Dan, do you mind?" said Harry. "Billie's still embarrassed about what happened in the courtroom. And since we can't get her out, Selma's gonna try and do it."

"Selma, maybe you should put on a plastic poncho, just in case," cracked Dan.

"Hey, you wanna go in there?" pointed Selma to the entrance.

"On a good day, yeah, but not without a hazmat suit."

Selma marched into the restroom, finding it empty with the exception of a pair of feet she spied from under one stall.

"Billie?" called Selma.

"Selma?," returned Billie.

"Are you okay?" asked Selma, approaching the stall.

"Yeah. Physically, I'm fine, but mentally...Selma, I threw up in front of the entire courtroom! I don't think I can get past this."

"Sure, you can! I saw a guy pee himself in a courtroom, watched this biker guy faint before the old judge, and caught Dan with one of the clerks in the Baliff Lounge. Trust me. What you been through ain't new."

"If you say so. Did you bring them?"

"Yep. I got one of the rookie bailiffs to do me a favor and launder your clothes at a laundromat. But you got to iron them yourself."

"Fine. You can tell them outside that I'm staying in here until the building's empty. Then, I'll leave out the maintenance door and take a taxi home."

"Forget it. I'm sure that Harry will take you home. And if not him, then I'll get Bull to do it. He won't ask questions. Now come out and talk to me."

"About what?"

"Well, for starters, you can tell me how far along are you."

Billie slowly opened the stall and stared at Selma like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar before dinner.

"What-what do you mean by that?" she asked, attempting to pretend to not know what Selma was saying.

"Don't try to deny it, Billie. I know morning sickness when I see it. How far along are you?" asked Selma, handing Billie her things.

Billie came out the stall, dressed in a jail-issued gown, and put on her coat while she sat her briefcase and bag of clothes near the stall.

"Eight weeks. I found out four days ago."

Both women leaned against a stall post as they talked.

"Were you gonna tell any of us before you delivered on the courtroom floor?" questioned Selma.

"Eventually. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't know whether or not I was going to keep it," explained Billie, arms folded.

"What about Harry?"

Billie's eyes bulged as she scrambled to cover her tracks. "W-why does Harry need to know? It's none of his business. It's really nobody's business."

Selma gave Billie a no-nonsense glance. "I would think that the guy you been screwing after sessions would like to know, wouldn't you?"

Billie's heart stopped for a millisecond. "You know?!"

"I saw you and Harry leaving by the freight elevator after the building closed one night. And it doesn't take much to imagine what happened in that elevator when you were eye view to his zipper."

"Selma!" exclaimed Billie, embarrassed. "And what were you doing at the courthouse after hours?"

"Well, I wanted to have the same kind of fun as you and Harry, but none of the guys here are my type. Sometimes me and the some of the other bailiffs would stay behind for a late poker game, playing for cigarettes. That night, I lost a whole carton and on my way to the freight elevator, I saw you two being all lovey-dovey."

"Does...anyone else know?"

"No! You think I'm a rat?!"

"No, no! I didn't mean it like that. It's just...Harry and I don't want to lose our jobs and reputations for being together. So, we continue to be colleagues in court, while being lovers outside of court. Selma, we do see a future for us, and...we love each other."

"You don't have to worry about a thing. I'm the only one who knows. So, going back to my question about Harry, does he know?"

Billie shook her head. "Like I said, I didn't know whether or not I was going to keep it. I mean, I do want children, Selma, but now just isn't the time."

"If you felt like that, then you should have told Harry to go to the drugstore for you-know-what," pointed Selma.

"I know, but we just didn't think. And I was on and off on the pill... When I found out that I was pregnant, I started thinking about my career going down the drain and about the plans I had before having kids, and then there was Harry. I know he loves kids, but was he really ready for one now? So, I kept my pregnancy to myself, contemplating everything. Then, this afternoon, I sat on a park bench, and watched mothers push their kids on swings, kiss their boo-boos when they fell down and hurt themselves, and that's when I realized that although it wasn't the right time, maybe it was the only time I had. I'm thirty-five years old, Selma, and I do want to have kids while I'm still able to have them. So, I decided to keep the baby. Before work, I called my mom and told her. You know, after she cried over me not being able to wear white for my wedding, she said that she was thrilled to finally be a grandma. And now, there's Harry to tell."

"Why do I get the feeling that you don't really wanna tell him?" asked Selma, resisting the urge to smoke around a pregnant woman.

"For two reasons: One, he may feel the same as I did, and probably feel strongly about not having a baby now. And two: Because knowing Harry, he's gonna want to take responsibility."

Selma, confused, said, "Usually, that's what an expectant woman wants, Billie."

"I know, but, what I mean is that he's gonna want to propose and stuff like that, and...I mean, if Harry asked me to marry him around Christmas or on our first anniversary of being together, then I would say yes right away. But, if I told him, and he asks, it would only be because he felt obligated to propose. I don't want to be an obligation to him, Selma. I wanna be his wife, his lover, his partner. But I don't want him to feel that I trapped him into an early marriage with a baby. I mean, I want him to want the baby, but if he doesn't want it, then it'll just be me, my mother, and the baby."

Tears started rolling down Billie's face as she tried to wipe them away.

Selma, taking everything in, nodded. "I get you. But you won't know until you tell him. If he proposes, then tell him you're not ready yet. Just have a long engagement until you're ready. Or rather the both of you are ready."

Billie sighed and nodded. "You're right, Selma. I'll talk to him. And hopefully, Harry won't feel compelled to marry me. I wanna marry him someday, but not because I'm knocked up."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," nodded Selma, hugging herself to cope without a cigarette.

"By the way, how did you know about the signs of morning sickness? I thought you didn't have kids," said Billie, thinking the baliff held herself because it was cold in the restroom.

"I didn't. I miscarried with my second husband's baby."

"I'm sorry, Selma."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago. And besides, Bull is as close to a son that I got."

Billie smiled.

"So, let's get out of here, so that I could have a smoke," said Selma.

"I'm still not leaving,"

"Now, counselor!" ordered Selma.

"Okay! But I want The Three Stooges to clear out before I do. I'm gonna run into Harry's chambers and get ready to tell him."

"Sounds great to me. By the way, about Harry?"

"Yeah?" said Billie.

"Is he as good as he is in court?" asked Selma, with a knowing expression.

Billie gave her a sly smile. "He goes above and beyond in our chambers."

Selma appeared shocked. "Who would've known that the string bean could get it up to par? Well, I've better clear the hall. Give me five minutes and I'll come get you."

"Thanks, Selma."

As Selma left to shoo away the men, Billie took a deep breath, readying herself to tell the man she loved that he would be a father. But Billie's mind still wandered to how the man she loved would react to impending fatherhood. Once Selma gave her okay to come out, she took a deep breath and walked to Harry's chambers with her belongings, willing herself to not get sick again as she prepares to tell Harry the life-changing news.