A short update. I will try to add 2-3 more of these by the weekend. You (my readers) are all wonderful and so patient with me. It's much appreciated!

P – Pregnant

"Brandon, can we talk for a minute?" Kelly asked one evening, edging into the living room at their place.

Brandon looked up from where he was pounding out an article on the word processor. He had a pencil behind either ear, his hair was all rumpled, and he looked just adorable as he nodded. "Yeah, come on down," he said. He noted her hesitant stance and jumped up from his chair, moving over to her. He reached for her hands then and lightly tugged her towards the sofa. He pulled her down next to him and he looked at her closely.

"You still look a little green, Kel. Is that flu bug still kicking you around or what?"

Kelly cleared her throat. "Uh, Brandon, I don't think it's the flu."

"Oh no… You're not …"

"Pregnant?"

"I was going to say suffering from some fatal illness."

Kelly punched his arm. "Hey! What was that for?"

"For being dense - maybe purposefully. You don't want to have a baby do you?"

Brandon looked at her in surprise. "Wait. A baby … A real one or a future, metaphorical one?"

Kelly went to hit him again but he grabbed her hand to stop her. "Boy, you're testy. Hormonal, I'd say … God; you are pregnant, aren't you?"

Kelly nodded. "Yeah. I just took a test upstairs and it was positive. Plus I have all the symptoms and my period is over two weeks late which never happens … So…"

"Wow…"

"Yeah, wow. What are we going to do, Brandon? You just barely started at The Beverly Beat and we've only been married for three months… It's really soon … How are we going to handle this?"

"Like we do everything … together." Brandon reached out and stroked her cheek. Her eyes moistened at his words. "It will be okay, assuming you want this baby."

"I think I do, Brandon, but I'm afraid … Afraid to become my mother."

"You're not Jackie, Kelly," Brandon said. He dabbed at her tears as they spilled down her cheeks. "You never could be. And anyway, she must not be so bad because her daughter amazes me every day. I love her daughter actually."

"Brandon…"

"Kelly … I want this baby. I knew I always wanted kids. Emily –"

"She cheated you out of that, didn't she?"

"Yes. But I don't want that to be the reason you become a mother now – just to make me feel better."

Kelly grasped his smooth cheeks in either of her hands. "The reason I want to be a mother now is because I want this. I want your child. I hope they have your eyes."

"I hope they have your smile," Brandon returned, tracing her lips with a careful finger.

"I hope they have your hair." Kelly suddenly laughed. "God, we are so nauseating!"

"We are," he agreed. "But it's our prerogative. Our kid is going to think we're nauseating at some point just like we did our parents. We might as well get used to being mushy, old fogies."

Kelly sighed, sobering. "You really think I'm ready for this?"

"I do but it's really up to you."

"Well…I reserve the right to cry on your shoulder if I do something horrible to scar our child's psyche."

"And I reserve the right to remind you how amazing you are a hundred times a day. And how grateful I am that you are giving me this wonderful gift." His hand found her taut stomach and he lightly caressed it.

"Brandon, that's so sweet … And now I need to barf. Literally. This morning sickness stuff is not only reserved for mornings, I don't think." She bolted to her feet and ran down the hall to the bathroom. Brandon followed her and held back her soft, blonde hair.

This would be a long nine months but he knew somehow they would enjoy every minute of it – the good, the bad and the ugly too.