He's wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms, and white t-shirt as he looks up at his wife, who leans against their kitchen island. She too is still in pajamas. Hers have hints of flour on the sleeve. He gently reaches out, and takes her hand.

"I am ready to hear whatever you need to tell me."

"I'm not sick, and I'm not depressed."

"You've been faking?" He responds uncertain where the conversation is going.

"I assure you that my physical symptoms are very much real."

"I don't understand," Sam admits.

"It would seem that we brought back a souvenir from our trip."

His face puckers, "What are you talking about? The wooden bowl is sitting on the mantle? You asked me if I thought that was where we should put it."

"This is a souvenir that neither of us knew we brought back."

He shrugs, "Some sort of parasite?"

She laughs, "Sort of."

"Sort of? Cassie, what are you talking about?"

"It will be a more permanent reminder of our travels."

"A blood borne pathogen?" His eyebrows arch.

She points to the fridge. He squints at the small square of paper that is magnetically adhered to the door.

"I don't have my glasses on."

She gently removes the item from the fridge, and places it in his hands. He shakes his head.

"I know what it looks like, but I'm really not sure that I understand what you're trying to tell me."

"I'm pregnant. That means we are going to be parents… again."

He falls silent. All of the color drains from his face as his glance shifts between the square of paper, and Cassie's face.

"We, who? Is that a figurative we?"

"I suppose if you want to be technical."

"What?!"

"It isn't possible for you to give birth," she answers.

"What?"

"I am currently pregnant, and you contributed fifty percent of the DNA to."

"Cassie, that's not funny. Not even as a joke."

Cassie falls silent. She turns, and walks away. Sam rifles through the junk drawer in the kitchen until he finds a pair of magnifying glasses. He puts them on, and studies the image he's holding.


By the time he reaches the master bedroom Cassie has already tucked herself back beneath the covers. He flips on the lamp beside the bed, and squats next to the bed.

"I don't feel like we're done with this discussion," Sam begins.

"You didn't seem too keen on the direction of the conversation," she responds.

"This is what has been going on? You're pregnant?"

"And you're clearly upset."

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me. How long have you known?"

"For weeks."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I just didn't want to subject you to heartbreak if this didn't work out."

"What do you mean?"

"When I found out I proceeded to have a panic attack at the doctor's office. I am not a spring chicken. I am not one to typically borrow trouble, but there is a lot of risk. I just didn't want to tell you until I got to a point that felt reasonably safe."

He takes seat next to her. "I am obviously very caught off guard right now. I think it might be best if you give me a little more information."

"I'm not really sure where you'd like me to begin."

He studies her facial expression, "I am finding the subtext a little difficult to decipher. Cassie, your face is doing all kinds of things, and I'm not entirely sure what they mean. Can we back up for just a second, and you tell me how you're feeling? To be clear I don't mean physically."

She shifts into a sitting position. He leans in as she leans against the headboard for support. She purses her lips, and shrugs her shoulders.

"This isn't how I pictured this chapter of our lives going. Our beautiful, precious children have left the nest."

"I get the sense that you were totally caught off guard by this."

"It seems as if age wise we are more appropriate for the AARP crowd, than the preschool drop off crowd."

He makes a realization, "You're not excited about this prospect, are you?"

"I feel like a horrible human being for being anything other than enthusiastic about this."

"Can you walk me through you coming to the realization that you were pregnant?"


She glances at the watch on her wrist, and taps her foot impatiently. Her legs dangle over the exam table as she wears a backless gown. Finally a knock on the door interrupts her heavily dysfunctional train of thought. She feigns a smile as the doctor takes a seat. Her family doctor takes a seat on a stool with wheels, and scoots towards Cassie.

"I think that we've found the source of your symptoms."

"That is great news. Of course, with the amount of bodily fluid collected from me I would hope so."

"We can start with the easiest thing first. Your fluid, and electrolytes were a little bit off. I am going to encourage you to drink more fluids, and I'll prescribe you a vitamin. Your body just hasn't been able to keep up with the demands it faces in your current state, and it needs a little help."

"My current state? What are you referring to?"

"Cassie I've always known you to be pretty intuitive. I find it hard to believe that you don't know."

"Know what?"

"You're pregnant."