1The next morning, Jackson was up early.

"Lisa," he gently shook her. "I have to go to work. You can have one day, today, to rest, but you should probably come tomorrow."

Lisa nodded and fell asleep as Jackson quietly left the house.

Two hours later, she stumbled out of bed and into the shower. She emerged from her room dressed in brown corduroys, a pink tshirt, and a hot pink jacket.

Lisa trudged out to the refrigerator for breakfast and examined its contents. Baking soda and ketchup.

He must not come here often, Lisa noted. She walked out to the garage.

Jackson had three cars, the Trailblazer, a Mercedes, and the silver BMW which he often lent for jobs. He'd taken the Mercedes to work, so Lisa took the keys to the Trailblazer and drove to town.

Originally, her intent had been to buy groceries and head back but after she did so she found herself pulling into her father's driveway.

"Daddy," Lisa hugged her father tightly as soon as he opened the door.

"Hey, sweetheart," he smiled warmly and invited her inside.

Once seated at the table with a traditional plate of scrambled eggs, Lisa found herself telling her father absolutely everything. The trip to France, her feelings for Jackson, nothing was excluded.

As they reached a lull in the conversation, Lisa looked up at the clock. 4:52.

"Dad," she said, standing up. "I need to be going. Call whenever. Love you," she pecked him on the cheek and hurried out.

Lisa pulled the car into the garage and saw Jackson's Mercedes already there. She fumbled with the bags of groceries and opened the door. Jackson was pacing back and forth in the foyer. His head quickly whipped around as Lisa entered the room. She dropped the bags on the sideboard.

"Where the hell where you?" he yelled.

"I-I got groceries," she said timidly.

"Thanks for telling me!" he yelled again. "No note, I just come home, you're gone, the car's gone..."

"What's your problem?" she snapped at him.

"In my job, someone's gone, it usually means they've run away, been killed, or kidnapped," he shouted. "You can't just go off!"

"Oh, so what am I supposed to do, just stay here and wait for you like a faithful little beagle? Because that's what I'm starting to think I am to you, Jackson. Your pet, your plaything."

"You're my wife," he snapped.

"Exactly," she said sharply. "You don't keep your wife locked up at home, you overpossessive asshole." She pronounced the insult carefully. Suddenly her head started to spin.

"I'm sorry," Jackson sighed. "I just-don't want to lose you."

Lisa nodded, but felt like she was being overcome by a curtain of fog.

"Leese?" Jackson cried, catching her in his arms. They were the last words she heard as she collapsed.

Lisa awoke a few hours later in her bed, an anxious looking Jackson at her side.

"Are you alright?" he said nervously as she opened her eyes.

"I'm fine," she replied. "It must have been something I-" Suddenly her face paled as she dashed to the bathroom and threw up the scrambled eggs. Jackson held back her hair.

"-ate. Scrambled eggs've never bothered me before," she said, confusion lining her face.

"Probably just that 24-hour flu," Jackson diagnosed, guiding her back to the bed. "Just rest. I took care of the groceries."

Lisa was able to function for the next week, but she still threw up constantly. One day, still out of work, she was making lunch and remembered something. "I should have had my period quite a while ago," she said to herself. Then her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Could I be-? No," she brushed off this thought.

A few days later, Lisa sat on her bathroom sink, waiting. A few minutes later, she screamed.

Two hours later, Jackson arrived home and as soon as he unlocked the door Lisa was in his arms, shrieking excitedly.

"Leese, calm down, what is it?" he asked her, giving her a hug.

"I'm pregnant!" she cried. Jackson beamed.