I don't own Sweeney Todd.
July 3, 1874
Despite the awful heat and never-ending stream of customers, Johanna's day was off to a great start.
All five of them had sat down to a hearty breakfast that morning. It had not been as quiet as their meals together usually were, but it was still quiet enough for Johanna to observe everybody else at the table.
Mrs Lovett had been her usual, chatty self, of course. She and Toby had done most of the talking at breakfast, as always, and nobody seemed to mind.
Sweeney had improved considerably over the last month. He and Johanna were still a bit wary of each other, but the walls had started to come down, and some good things had begun to happen. For instance, he seemed to have a bit more energy than he'd had before. Johanna chalked it up to the fact that he was eating a little more, but he had also mentioned that he had been sleeping better. His appearance had also changed. His cheeks had regained the tiniest bit of color, and his eyes had taken on a mischievous glint that seemed to take years off his face. Or was that just the bags under his eyes shrinking?
Anthony, on the other hand, was worrying her as he picked at his food. He was still not eating. Sure, he ate enough to keep her off his back, but she wasn't sure just how much of it was staying down. She wondered if he was ill and just wasn't telling her about it.
To make matters even stranger, she couldn't help but notice that he had become unusually sensitive about his midsection. Anthony was always careful not to change clothes when there was a chance that she could see him, and if her hand happened to stray too close to his stomach, he would move it away. And yet, she also noticed that when he wasn't paying attention, he was often resting his hand on his stomach as if to protect it.
Johanna didn't think much of her observations until after the dinner rush had ended. She had wandered into the guest room to wash her hands and face before supper, and as she searched for a washcloth, she stumbled upon a plain book that had no title.
That's odd. Why doesn't it have a title?
She picked it up and opened it up to the first page, where she saw Anthony's name scrawled in small handwriting in the upper right-hand corner, in pencil.
Oh. This must be his journal.
Johanna skimmed through the first few entries, which were mostly sparse accounts of how his day had been and records of monetary transactions. How prosaic.
And then she found the most recent entries.
Anthony walked into the guest room to find Johanna sitting in a rocking chair in the corner with a book in her lap.
"Johanna, there you are! Supper is waiting."
Johanna did nothing but look up at him with an irritated expression on her face.
"You're pregnant?" She asked, though it sounded like more of a accusatory statement than a question.
Anthony froze.
"How did you-?"
She held up the book in her lap, and he recognized it as his journal.
"That's my journal. You read my journal?"
"Only to see what it was." Johanna opened to a page from the previous month. "And that's when I found this." She turned the book around to show him the crudely-drawn chart on that page. Anthony recognized it as a month-by-month breakdown of the symptoms he'd been having.
"I can explain."
"Well, please do, because if this is what I think it is, then you're in quite a pickle."
Anthony sighed.
"First of all, that's private." He took the journal from Johanna and placed it on the dresser. "Second, are you sure you want to hear this? It's kind of a long story, and I'm not sure you'll believe me."
"Just tell me the truth. We're friends, and friends don't lie."
That stung, but Anthony ignored the feeling and sat down across from her on the bed.
"Yes. I'm pregnant."
"How did this happen?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I mean, I don't know. I don't know how it happened, I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how it's even possible. But..." He took in a deep breath and let it out. "...it's what's happening, and there's nothing I can do about it."
"You've known about this since April."
"No, I didn't. That's when my symptoms started." Anthony looked down at his stomach and then back up at Johanna. "It didn't occur to me that I was pregnant until recently."
"How recently?"
"The end of May."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I would've told you if I were sure. Even then, would you have believed me?"
"I couldn't say." Johanna sighed. "I'm not even sure I believe you now."
"I can hardly believe it myself." Anthony stood up and walked over to the window. "It shouldn't even be possible, and yet..."
"Yeah." Johanna got up and stood next to him. When she turned her head to look at him, she could see that he had his arms crossed over his stomach. "So it's true."
"Afraid so."
"I suppose it does explain a few things."
"Yeah, it does."
They were silent for a few seconds. Anthony spoke again after a moment's hesitation.
"I'm still not completely certain. I can remember my mother having the same problems when she had my sister, but I didn't put two and two together until recently." He looked down and cradled his stomach. "Some small part of me is still hoping that this isn't real. I don't even want to entertain the notion that it could be real."
He locked eyes with Johanna, and she could see tears forming.
"I'm only 16, Johanna. I'm not ready to be a father."
Johanna was at a loss for words.
"Well... we're in this together." She said quietly. "We'll figure it out as we go. After all, it's worked out for us so far."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
They were quiet for a few moments.
"Promise you're not upset?" Anthony asked.
"Yes, I promise." Johanna answered. "I mean, I am a little upset that you hid this sort of thing from me, but I'm not angry."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"You didn't exactly have an opportune moment until recently."
"Well, either way, thanks for being calm about this. I'm not sure I could handle it if you were angry at me on top of everything else."
"There's nothing to be angry about." Johanna wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him close. "And anyway, you were there for me in my time of need, it's only fair that I return the favor."
"Thanks." Anthony leaned his head against hers and sniffled.
"So, you know what we're going to do?" Johanna turned to face him and put her hands on his shoulders. "We're going to go out there with our heads held high, and we're going to eat our dinner."
Anthony couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yeah, sure." He smiled at her, and they walked out of the guest room, hand-in-hand.
