Morning, all! Shall we begin...

~ The Parental Intervention Attempt ~

It's a fact of life that women have an 'issue' once a month. We know we get periods etc... But why are the periods, or dates of said periods, such a great importance when it comes to being pregnant? I called the doctor this morning to make an appointment. Now, I'm not a morning person, so when the person on the other end of the line starts asking questions, I was a little bit shitty with them.

In my defence, why do I have to explain to a receptionist, who has zero medical training, why I'm calling up? It's not like they can do anything about it, apart from giving me the damn appointment that I was calling up for in the first place!

Anyway, after a slightly heated discussion about my last period and why I had unprotected sex if it wasn't being planned, Edward had to take over the call. I just didn't have the head space to deal with her. I'd already thrown up the contents of my stomach, which was zero because I barely handle water when I first woke up. I didn't need anything else to go to shit this morning.

He got me an appointment for later this afternoon, which was good because I'm sure this sickness shouldn't be this bad.

"We're here. Now, unless your Dad is hiding, he doesn't seem to be here," Edward said and started to stroke my hand.

"He's here. It wouldn't surprise me if Mom were with him, too. Just because you can't see his car, doesn't mean you can relax," I mumbled. I was a bitch, I knew that, but I had just about managed to understand that at twenty-one, I was going to be a mom. What I hadn't thought much about was how my parents – or Edward's – would deal with it.

We didn't stay in my house long enough to get Dad's true reaction, and as far as I could understand, Edward hadn't even told his parents yet. He'd explained quickly to his Dad that he needed him to cover for a few days, but didn't give a reason.

Edward's mother hated me! How was I going to cope being tied to this woman until my kid was at least eighteen? I'd have to ask Mom how she coped with my Grandmother. I'm sure she had enough plans up her sleeves to cope. Mom was the expert when it came to being in the same room with my Grandmother. She had to know a secret or two.

"Princess, we have to get out of the car if we want to go into work,"

No, we could turn the car around and go back to our bubble. That sounded like a really good idea to me. I would be happy to curl up in his nice warm bed with a good book.

"I don't want to. I want to stay in our little bubble. I can just imagine my mother now. She's going to be knitting booties until the baby will have enough to last them until they go to school. And the cardigans! I can just imagine what she's going to try and come up with. The buttons will have little trains on them or flowers. She'll knit with pink and blue until she knows what we're having. Oh God, and the bobble hats! I swear, if she knits one bobble hat, I'm disowning her." I wasn't in the mood for this. In fact, I didn't know what type of mood I was in. I was all over the place.

I had been an official adult for just a matter of weeks, and although I could now buy alcohol, I couldn't drink it! I couldn't drink coffee, and according to these damn books, I couldn't eat nuts either. Or Pate. I wasn't too keen on the liver stuff, to be honest, but Pâté! I just didn't like it that some damn professional from a book said I couldn't have it.

I thought when you were pregnant, what you ate went into your belly, through your system, and out the other end. I didn't know that it somehow got to the baby's belly, too.

"Princess, snap out of it. We have to go to work. If they're in there, we'll say hello, give our excuses and get to work and I can't do that with your nails digging into the skin of my hand while I'm sat in the car!" He carefully unlatched my fingers – and nails – from the skin of his hand and I pouted. A very childish thing to do, I know.

"I don't care what you have to do, I'm growing a damn baby with your super sperm, and you will sit here until I work out if my body or brain are going to take over. My brain is saying that no one can tell me what to do, and my body is laughing at me because it's going to do what it likes, regardless of what my brain says."

"Okay, out of the car. Let's get this over and done with, then I'm taking you home for food and a nap before we see the doctor,"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Watch me, Princess."

"Oh wow, you look like shit, Bella," Melanie said the moment I walked into our office. I scanned her desk to see if I could throw a bottle of nail polish at her. Even a stapler would be good at this point.

I came up with nothing.

"No shit, Sherlock. You try looking in a mirror to do your hair and make-up when you're still heaving your guts up in the morning," I growled. No, I couldn't cope with this. I was supposed to be glowing, dammit! When would it be my time to shine like a lightbulb at Christmas?

"I don't think it's possible to throw your guts, but I bet it's painful if you tried. Is it like when you go over a bump in the car too fast, and your stomach floats up there for a second or two?" She muttered. One look from me and she shut her trap. Good girl.

"Princess, get in your office right now. I mean it. Go straight there and don't talk to anyone. In fact, keep your eyes down and don't look at anyone either," I wanted to fight with him, but I didn't have it in me.

"If I go in there, and my family is there, waiting to pounce, your balls will take pride of place on my mantelpiece,"

"Well, Princess, you already have them in your purse, so you might as well put them on display for all to see."

Ass.

.

I was woken up on my office couch a couple of hours later by the sound of several people shouting.

"Bastards," I muttered, standing up a little too quickly and feeling as though I'd just been spinning on the spot for ten minutes.

I followed the sound of the inconsiderate people until I got to Prick's office door. I knew straight away who was in there. I was now in two minds. I could suck it up and go in there and support by boss slash baby Daddy, or I could run for the hills while he kept them occupied.

Freedom versus nine months of him bitching at me. The debate within was huge.

No, I would be the better person, a grown-up. I would go in there, tell everyone to shut the fuck up, and then I'd go home. I needed to sleep. And food. I craved food. I just couldn't seem to have it, apparently.

I cracked open the door just a touch to see that Prick was banging his head on his desk. It wasn't him arguing at all. It was the parents. All four of them. How strange, and slightly comical.

I slipped into the room, pulled Prick back from the dangerous habit of head banging, and then crawled into his lap. As he wrapped his arms around me, I tried to take in what the parentals were saying.

I picked up some various words, like high school, cheerleading, and planted drugs. That was just from the women. Then the men were taking over, like 'don't talk to her like that' and other random shite.

"Would it be ethically wrong as the boss's understudy to staple their lips together?" I murmured into his neck, enjoying the smell of his Cool Waters aftershave.

"We don't have a stapler big enough," he replied with a small chuckle over the noise of the parents.

"I do! I got that new one I Bejazzled last week. I need to take it out for a test ride," I said, ready to move and get the contraption. Prick held me closer and kissed the top of my head. It would have been a nice gesture if the parentals would tone their noises down a touch.

"WILL YOU LOT SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'm supposed to be stress-free and enjoying these moments of growing a baby, and you're making it nearly impossible! Mom, Dad, go home. I will call you later. Mr. and Mrs. Prick, Edward will call you later when we've both calmed down and worked out why our parents are acting like three-year-old's fighting over a dropped toy on the playground floor!"

The room fell silent. Not even crickets were brave enough to – what noise do they make? Click, crick? Anyway, there was no noise, not even breathing.

"Bella, we haven't seen you in days, you can't just hide away! We've been worried about you," That was Mom.

Dad growled at Prick.

Prick's Dad huffed at my Dad, and I thought it was about to blow up again. That was until Prick's mother opened her trap.

"Son, you don't have to let her go through with this. You can't let this trollop trap you! You're meant for better things, better women!"

Oh. Hell. No. I raised a brow to Edward. He could step in now, or I would, and I could see that he was going to say something. He'd best do it quickly because Dad was holding Mom back from launching at the Harpy.

"Mother, I suggest you watch your tone. It's nothing to do with you if Bella is or isn't pregnant and you certainly don't have the right to barge in here telling me about my options. But we are pregnant and are going to have your Grandchild. If you don't like it, leave now. I won't have you treating any of us like this," I was impressed. He was actually standing up to the woman. Props to him. My turn! I stood up.

"You know what, I value your opinion, I really do, because you raised an amazing son, but opinions are like assholes. Everyone has them, but not all of them are useful and are certainly not something you wave in people's faces. So what, he has 'options'? Well, guess what, so do I. My option is for you to keep well clear of me until I'm sane enough not to knock you into next week! How dare you suggest that I'm trapping him! I'm the one that has to carry his baby for the next nine months. I'm the one that has to push a melon size baby out of my vagina, and I'm the one that has to raise this baby for the next eighteen years minimum. Not him, not you, or any other bloody asshole, so leave me the fuck alone before I do something I really won't regret!"

"Are you going to let this – this girl – talk to me like this, Edward? Your own mother?"

"Mother, this is a place of employment. You know full well that you could have called me later or visited me at home. You came here to cause a scene, which you have now done. Now, if you would be so kind and leave, that would be great," Edward replied wearily. Oh no, he was losing ground.

"I cannot believe you. My own son taking the side of this girl!" She wailed and stormed out of the room. The other parentals followed her, Mom throwing me a wink as she closed the door.

"You certainly keep my life entertaining, Princess," he grinned and opened his arms to me. I quickly locked the door and went to sit in his lap again.

"It's not my fault, I'm a good little 'Trollop.' Anyway, you know that she'd never call you to bitch about me. It doesn't have the same effect as her being in the room, wailing and waving about. Also, it's not the same when you slam the phone down these days. All you get is a click when you push the button. No slamming, so quite anticlimactic if you ask me. She could have tried to visit you, but your lovely doorman has earned his tips this week," I giggled.

"You haven't minded, being stuck at mine?"

"Not at all. Being ill has had its upsides. You've had to deal with Mac,"

"And you never answered me this morning. Why is it that he likes to kill every potted plant we have?"

"I don't know. He's always done it. That's why I learned to have them up on shelves. You'll just have to remember not to put the plants on the floor when you're dusting,"

"He's one strange dog, Princess,"

"That he is, my Prick, but he's adorable. I can never stay mad at him for too long,"

"Lunch?"

"Oooh, yeah, I could do with something solid in me,"

"No comment."

How are you all doing? Really? Are you coping okay with the virus? These times are strange and hard and it looks like there's no end in sight. Please be safe and if you can, strong. We will get through these days.

Loves you all!