She opens her eyes, and looks around the room. She finds herself, asleep on her couch. There is a pillow under her head, and a fleece blanket over her body. She notices that the door is locked. She sits up. There is a note on the coffee table, addressed to her. She reads it to herself.
Jane,
Had to go back to work. If you need anything call me. I'll be by after I get off work. I'll bring Chinese food, and we'll figure all of this out.
Barry
She places the note back on the coffee table. She stares at the envelope, next to it. She opens it up, and dumps the contents onto her lap. She studies each picture, carefully. Two heads, two bodies. Twenty fingers, twenty toes. Four arms, and four legs. Two hearts. Two babies. Not just one baby, that she is completely unprepared for, but two, instead. She returns the pictures to the envelope, and reaches for her phone.
She unlocks the phone, and finds six voicemails, eight text messages, and four missed calls. She quickly goes through them. All of them from Maura, and her mother. She debates on which one to communicate with first. Before she can reach a decision her phone begins to ring. She stares at the caller ID, in dread. She exhales, and pulls the phone to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Jane, it's Ma."
"I know who it is, I have caller ID, and I would recognize your voice, anywhere."
"How did your appointment go, today?" Angela quizzes, pulling no punches.
"Great."
"Really?"
"Yep. Everything is just A-ok."
"A-ok? What's wrong?" Angela's tone of voice changes.
"Nothing. Why would you assume that something is wrong?"
"You're being so sarcastic. You use sarcasm as a coping mechanism, you know."
"You've been hanging out with Maura, today, haven't you?"
"She stopped in for lunch."
"Did she, now?"
"She was concerned, because you didn't come into work, after your appointment."
"I just didn't feel like it."
"Jane, what's going on?"
"Nothing," Jane insists, deceptively.
"Is there something wrong with the baby? Is it deformed? Does it have some sort of defect."
"No, of course not."
"Did you miscarry?"
"No. I didn't."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," Jane argues.
"But there is something that you're not telling me, isn't there?"
"I don't want to talk about it, over the phone."
"Then we'll have dinner, tonight."
"I am having dinner with Frost."
"Why?"
"Because he is the father, and we have to figure out our plan of action."
"Plan of action? Jane you make it seem like you're going into battle."
"Is that inaccurate?" Jane inquires.
"It's a baby, not a battle."
"Crying, sleepless nights, frustrated people, it sounds like a battle to me."
"What is there to discuss?"
"Everything."
"You'll keep the baby at your place. I'll stay home, and watch her, and that will be that."
"I doubt that Frost will go for that."
"Why? He doesn't trust me?"
"That's not what I meant. This isn't the ideal situation, but he is still the father. He gets some input, you know."
"He already had is input."
"Ma, I've got some stuff to take care of, so I have to go."
"Tell me how your appointment went, first."
"It was fine."
"Fine, are you sure?"
"Everything is normal. Ok? Does that make you feel any better?"
"You're sure?"
"Yes," Jane confirms.
"Ok, sweetie, I'll talk to you later."
"Bye, ma," Jane hangs up the phone.
A few hours later, Jane is on the couch, watching T.V., when Frost arrives. He knocks on the door, and she responds, "It's open."
"I need a little help," he responds.
She gets off the couch, and makes her way to the door. She opens the door for him, and he steps in. She notices that he is loaded down with food. She moves out of his way, so that he can make it to the coffee table. She closes the door, and helps him unload. She goes into the kitchen for beverages, and utensils.
"What do you want to drink? I've got..." she stares into the fridge, "bottled water, or beer," she reveals.
"Water is fine," he answers.
She grabs two bottles of water. She stares into the fridge, for several moments. The contents are that of a single person. Two additional bottles of water, a carton of eggs, o container of expired yogurt, a couple slices of leftover pizza, and a six pack of beer. She closes the door, and joins her partner, in the living room. She takes a seat on the couch, and stares at him.
"Don't start this," she warns.
"Start what?"
"Trying to turn me into a brick house."
"You are eating for three."
"Three, not really."
"I didn't know what you were in the mood for."
"So you brought everything on the menu?"
"I don't know," he shrugs.
She takes a moment, to gauge his expression. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, "obviously you are trying to be sensitive to my needs. I appreciate that."
"So, what are we going to do?"
"I don't want to tell anyone yet."
"Why not?"
"Can we just wait, a couple of weeks? I'd like to have some time to deal with this, without everyone else's opinions."
"I agree."
"Are you as scared as I am?"
"Probably not. I don't have to push them through my..."
She cuts him off, "No, you don't."