Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine. Got it? Gracias.
Chapter 8
Helga stood in the drugstore, looking at different types of pregnancy tests. She had only been shopping for "baby detectors" once before and that had been about five years ago. She was a little unsure of which brand to buy, how much was the right cost, and so on. Finally, she just picked the box that seemed like the most accurate and had a reasonable in-between kind of pricing. She walked up to the register and placed the single item on the counter. The cashier, an old, blue-haired, grandmotherly sort of woman, scanned the box and winked at her. Helga blushed. She paid for her purchase and thanked the cashier, who smiled and wished her good luck.
It was a nice day outside. Sunny, warm, with skies as blue as a robin's egg. It was nice enough for a walk. Arnold had taken her car to work this morning, leaving her to take a cab to the store. Rather than pay for another cab, Helga decided to just walk home. It wasn't far anyway. She started up the street, paper bag in one hand and purse in the other. Her sneakers made a muffled scraping sound on the sidewalk. She smiled. She rather enjoyed this. The feeling of warmth as the sun shone down on her hair and shoulders, the light breeze whispering past her, the knowledge that everything in her world was about to change in the blink of an—
"Excuse me, miss, do you have the time?" a surly looking young man asked, stepping out of a shadowed alley. Helga frowned. This didn't seem right. Nevertheless, she attempted to still seem indifferent. "Um, sorry, I don't wear a watch." She began walking again, at a slightly faster pace. "Hold it!" the man barked. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him so that she was intensely close to his face. His grip on her tightened, causing her to wince. The stranger grinned. His teeth were yellowed, his chin stubbled, and his breath reeked of beer…and onions.
"Oh, God", Helga thought. "This is how I'm going to die."
(Two hours later, at Arnold's office)
"Hello?" Arnold answered the phone that set on top of his desk.
"Mr. Arnold garbled static?"
"Yes, this is he. How may I help you?"
"It's about your wife, Helga."
"Actually, she's not my—never mind. What's wrong with her?"
"She's been attacked, sir. We have her here at Hillwood Medical Center."
"My, God, is she alright!"
"Calm down, sir, she'll be alright. She's suffered a mild concussion, but other than that, she's perfectly fine, except for a few minor contusions and abrasions."
"Well, how did it happen? Wait, don't answer that. I'll be right there."
Arnold hung up the phone and notified his editor that he was leaving on account of a serious emergency. She nodded and wished him luck as he flew out the door and hailed a cab.
(Twenty minutes later, at Hillwood Medical Center)
"Thank God you're alright, Helga."
Arnold sat next to Helga in Room 312, stroking her back gently. "Geez, take a chill pill, babe. I'm fine. A little banged up, but fine", Helga said, grinning at her lover. "You are such a worrier!" Arnold rolled his eyes. "Dear, you were attacked by a would-be mugger and knocked unconscious for an hour and a half. I would think that of all times, this would be the one to be worried! He could've killed you!"
"But he didn't. Good thing I bought that pepper spray, huh? Even if it did cause him to blindly whack me in the head with a wine bottle. That sucked. But other than that, I came out smellin' like a rose!" Helga nuzzled her head with Arnold's. They were still talking (and cuddling) when a nurse knocked on the door and stepped into their room cautiously.
"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something, but I have the results of one of your tests", the nurse (whose nametag read "Susan Arbuckle") said rather apologetically.
"It's fine", Arnold said. "What do they say?"
"Well, the concussion won't be causing any long term problems or ailments. You may wake up with a strong headache tomorrow, but a couple of Tylenol will fix that right up. The scratches on your arms show no evidence of an on-setting infection and should heal quite nicely with no complications and--", she paused to check a sheet on her clipboard, "congratulations, you're pregnant! I'll leave you two alone now."
She left, leaving the open-mouthed couple to stare at each other and contemplate what they had just heard. "Okay", Helga began slowly, "my brain is still trying to digest half of that, but I got the last part. Oh, my God. I'm pregnant. I'm freaking pregnant!" She grinned and lunged into Arnold's arms. They hugged, Helga cried (but wouldn't admit it later), and were generally full of happiness…together.
'Together', Helga thought later. Maybe it wasn't such a bad word after all.