Author's notes:

:sigh: I realize my chapters tend to run a bit on the short side. I thought this one was longer, although not as much as I'd hoped. I've always had a problem with thatI have the same problem with writing papers. If the assignment is ten pages, it's a struggle for me to reach eight.

I can make my chapters longer, but it would take longer in terms of updating time. Does anyone have a preference as to this?

Thanks for all your supportive and encouraging reviews. It makes me happy that people like this story so much. And I have the next chapter planned out, so it should hopefully be written soon.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Kirsten woke up to find herself sprawled across Sandy's chest. He was a comfortable pillow, she decided, and he smelled nice. And she had to admit, he was much easier to share a bed with. Jimmy had always hogged the covers, which had driven her crazy.

She rested her head against his shoulder and gently ran her fingers up and down his arm. Sandy sighed slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake. She found herself wondering what would have happened if she'd stayed the night with Sandy three months ago, and what their relationship would have been like if she had.

There hadn't been any sex last night. Kirsten thought she might have been willing, but Sandy obviously wanted to take things a bit slower. They had kissed for awhile, and there had been a bit of making out, but that was all. Kirsten was surprised at the disappointment that she felt. True, she had already slept with Sandy, but she wondered what it would be like when it wasn't just a one-night stand to heal her bruised ego.

She glanced at Sandy's alarm clock. Eight thirty-six. Back in Newport, her mother would already be up and on the phone with the caterers to make sure that Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch. Her father would spend the morning watching football on TV: last year, he and Jimmy had almost come to blows over the Dolphins-Giants game. And Hailey…Kirsten didn't know what Hailey would be doing. Her sister always shadowed Kirsten around the house, wanting to play with her. It was flattering, sure, but the eight-year age difference between them meant that they didn't have a lot in common.

She felt bad about it now. Maybe she could call home later today, and talk to her parents and sister for a little while. And when she went home for Christmas, she would make sure to spend time with her little sister, maybe take her out for an afternoon, just the two of them. Hailey would love that, Kirsten thought with a smile.

And next year, everything would be different.

She still didn't understand what was going to happen in the upcoming months. She was dreading telling her parents that she was pregnant. At best, they would be upset and disappointed, and at worst…Kirsten didn't want to think about that. She might not be seeing Newport again for a very long time.

Well, at least she would have Sandy. At least, she hoped she would. She trusted him, and knew that he wouldn't change his mind and decide that he didn't want to be a parent after all. But he would be graduating from law school at the beginning of June, right around the time the baby was due, and he might move anywhere after that. And if that happened, well, she would just have to go with him.

Her stomach began to rumble, and she realized that she was hungry. Sandy was still asleep and didn't show any sign of waking soon, but that didn't matter. She was perfectly capable of getting breakfast by herself. In fact, she would not only cook for herself, but for Sandy as well. It was the least she could do, after everything he had done for her. She hadn't cooked much when she was growing upher family had always had a chefbut how hard could it be?

Sandy's bathrobe was draped across a chair, and Kirsten put it on over her pajamas as she went out into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There were plenty of eggsthat was good, and she found a box of Bisquick in the cupboard. There was also a large jar of dill pickles, which sounded wonderful to her, although that could be because she was pregnant.

Eggs and pancakes would be a good start. She rummaged around in the cupboards until she found two large frying pans. Perfect. She turned the stove on as high as it would go, and cracked two eggs open into the first frying pan. The second egg had a largish chunk of its shell, and she tried to fish it out, but quickly pulled back at the already intense heat. She would get it out later.

The pancakes might be trickier. The directions on the box weren't very clear as to what she was supposed to do, so she shook a fair portion of the mix into the frying pan, and added water from the sink until the pan was halfway full. Then she was supposed to wait for it to boil before she flipped it overthat much she understood. It looked like the pancake might be a little big, but that was okay, she could cut it up once it was cooked. Sandy wouldn't mind.

She wondered if Sandy had any bacon. That would go perfectly with the eggs and pancakes, and she opened the freezer to see if there was any there. No such luck, but she did find some cans of frozen apple juice. That would have to do. She found a plastic bowl under the sink and dumped the juice in, putting the whole thing in the microwave. It didn't look like very much, so she added another can and set the timer for five minutes.

Turning her attention back to the stove, she saw with dismay that she had left the plastic spatula resting on the edge of the frying pan with the eggs in it, and plastic was now dripping down the sides and bubbling in the bottom of the pan. "Shit!" Kirsten yelped, yanking the spatula away. What was left of it was charred and deformed. Well, she would just buy Sandy another one the next time she was out.

The eggs hadn't made contact with the plastic, so Kirsten supposed that they were still okay. They needed to be flipped, but with the spatula out of service she wasn't sure how. Maybe a fork…she grabbed one from the silverware drawer, but only succeeded in scrambling the yolk around. Scrambled eggs would still be okay, she told herself, trying not to panic. She pushed them around the pan a little more, being careful to avoid the burnt plastic, and turned her attention to the pancakes. With any luck she hadn't ruined them.

The pancake mix was boiling steadily in the other pan, and Kirsten was wondering if she hadn't used too much water, and if she should have used the measurements the box suggested instead of eyeballing it. She poked at it with her fork, but it was still a watery mess. Maybe some more pancake mix would help. She poured some in, and stirred it with the fork. She definitely should have followed the directions on the box.

There was a little ding from the microwave, and she took two glasses out of the cupboard to pour juice into. It was thicker than she expected, and she spilled a fair amount on the counter and the floor. Just what she needed. She got a washcloth from the sink and began to wipe it up. In addition to being thick, it was incredibly sticky. Kirsten had a suspicion that she'd gotten this wrong too.

She smelled smoke two seconds before the fire alarm went off. Kirsten got to her feet and saw that the pancake mix was beginning to smoke, and the eggs had somehow caught on fire. Without thinking, she grabbed the bowl of ultra concentrated juice and dumped it in the frying pan.

The fire went out, which was good. The smoke intensified, which was bad. Kirsten was coughing and waving away the smoke when Sandy came running into the kitchen. He grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the stove.

"Are you okay?" he shouted.

Kirsten coughed again, but managed to nod. "I'm fine."

"Stay here," Sandy instructed her in a tone that left no room for argument. "I'll be right back."

Kirsten watched as Sandy turned off the stove, dumped both frying pans in the sink, and ran cold water over them. He climbed up on the counter and fanned smoke away from the smoke detector until it stopped beeping.

"I'm sorry," Kirsten apologized as Sandy hopped down from the counter. She felt ridiculous standing there in his bathrobe, and was unusually close to tears. "I'm sorry, Sandy."

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Kirsten shook her head. "I know I should have asked, but I thought I could make breakfast for us. I wanted to surprise you."

"I'm not mad," Sandy assured her. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

She blinked back tears. What on earth was wrong with her? "You're sure you're not mad?"

Sandy cast a glance at the mess in the sink. "Not unless you make me eat that stuff."

Kirsten managed to laugh. "I guess I'll never be a world-famous chef."

"Tell you what," Sandy suggested, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Why don't I clean up this mess while you go get dressed, and we'll go out for breakfast?"

"On Thanksgiving Day?" Kirsten asked doubtfully. "What's open on Thanksgiving?"

"Um." Sandy thought for a moment. "Either McDonald's or Denny's."

"All right," Kirsten agreed. "But only if you let me pay." Sandy opened his mouth to protest, and she cut him off. "It's either that or the eggs and pancakes I made."

"Those were pancakes?" Sandy shuddered. "Okay, you win."

Kirsten kissed him. She liked being able to kiss him whenever she felt like it. "Does Dennys have bacon?"