She's exhausted, from a long day at work. She's just gotten the kids to sleep, when someone starts banging on her door. With her gun in her hand, she unlocks the door. She doesn't check the peephole. She just pulls it open. She lowers her gun, when she sees who's standing on the other side. He closes the door, as he comes into the apartment.
"What are you doing here? It's late. I swear if you wake the baby, I'll kill you. He's got an earache, and he hasn't been sleeping."
"I just came to talk. You don't have to shoot me," he tells her.
She realizes she's still holding her weapon. She places it on the coffee table, and sinks into the couch. He takes a seat next to her.
"You are psycho, you know that, right?"
"I blame all of the hormones," is her response.
"You barging into my place, the other day, that's not okay."
"I know that."
"But I deserved it."
"I know that, too."
"Jane I am sorry that you are under all of this stress. I am sorry that I added to it."
"But?"
"If you think I know what to do, then you're wrong."
"I just want you to choose. I need to find a game plan. You're either in, or you're out. It's up to you. Just make a choice. Ok?"
"You can't do it on your own."
"I do lots of things on my own."
"Jane, let me help you."
"You don't want to be with me. You don't want this life."
"Stop trying to convince me that I don't."
"You're wounded, and you won't be much help."
"I'm wounded? Jane I'll heal."
"That isn't the point. I know you are going to feel some sense of obligation, to these babies. You don't have any obligation to me, though. I am not delusional. I know this isn't a fairy tale."
"I want to be here, with you. I want to be here for them."
"Frost, I don't expect you to marry me. I don't expect happily ever after."
"Just stop! Woman! You drive me insane. Stop telling me what to do."
"I'm sorry."
"You're in charge at work. You're in charge of a lot of things, but I am in charge of me."
"You're right."
"You need a bigger place."
"I just got this one."
"I have a buddy, and he found this great house that..."
"I can't afford it."
"It's been repossessed, and you can afford it. It is super cheap."
"I don't want a fixer upper."
"I can fix it."
"Because you have so much spare time."
"It just needs some fresh paint. It's perfect."
"Fresh paint? Have you seen it?"
"Yeah," he nods.
"So what? We're just going to move in together, and be one big happy family?"
"We could try."
"Except you don't love me."
"Why do you always want to control everything? You try and tell me what to do, and think, and feel. I do love you."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true."
"Since when?"
"Since the day that I met you."
"I don't buy it."
"Please just give this a chance. We are going to have kids, together."
"I'm scared."
He smiles at her. He tucks her hair behind her ear, with his free hand.
"I know," he says softly.
"Aren't you?"
"Out of my mind."
"What are we going to do?"
"Make the best of it. It's ok to be scared."
She swallows hard. Her hormones kick her emotions into overdrive.
"Frost what if I don't make it?"
"What?"
"What if I die?"
"Why would you say something like that?"
"I am the definition of a high risk pregnancy. I could die."
"I'm not going to let that happen."
"What if I do?"
"You won't," he argues.
"What if you die? You almost died. I can't do this on my own. I already have two of them, and I am completely overwhelmed, all of the time. I am sleep deprived. If I step on one more dirty sock, crayon, or Barbie doll, I might come unglued."
"That's why I'm here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he nods, enveloping her in a hug. She lies against his chest, in silence, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hours later, she wakes up, and she's asleep on the couch, in the clothes she wore to work. She hears a crying baby, and finds that she's on the couch alone. She wonders to herself, if Frost has snuck out, or if it was all a dream. She wipes the sleep from the corners of her eyes, and climbs off the couch. She moves towards the crying. Before she can reach it, it miraculously stops.
She continues down the hallway, to check on August. She stops in the doorway, to peer in at him, just to make sure he hasn't stopped breathing. She finds her partner, in the nursery. He sits in the glider, in the corner of the room. He holds the cranky baby, against him. He pats him, and rocks him back to sleep.
She tiptoes into the room. She smiles at them, and then asks, "What are you doing?" in a whisper.
He puts his finger to his mouth, "Shh! I got it. Go get in bed."
