The weeks came and went in a blink of an eye. At five months, Rachel's condition had far outgrown her old clothes. Soon she went about the Buckett house in roomy maternity garments. But even with her newly accommodating wardrobe, the weight of pregnancy was taking its toll. With every passing day, her usual activities became more and more difficult.

"Come on, Rachel" called Mrs. Buckett. "We're going to take lunch out to the chocolate room."

With a hand on her back, Rachel hoisted herself up. Her swollen belly pulling heavily on her back.

Willy Wonka waved the Buckett family over to a clearing among the taffy trees. His eyes immediately resting on the basket swinging from Mrs. Buckett's arm.

"Whatcha bring?" he grinned.

"Just the usual" Charlie said. "Sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, veggies."

"I imagine we're not going to have to worry about dessert." Grandma Josephine giggled.

Carefully Grandpa Joe and Charlie spread out a blanket upon the sugary grass. Its cool minty smell whetting everyone's appetite.

Ever since coming to the factory, Charlie and his family had gratefully become accustomed to regular meals. But even with their newfound security, the little Buckett family always relished every bite. Especially the four grandparents.

The memory of the watery cabbage soup was an insult to Mrs. Buckett's savory cooking.

"Willy, you cant eat fried chicken like that" said Charlie.

"Everyone shifted their gaze to Mr. Wonka. The chocolateer was trying in vain to neatly cut a chicken wing with a fork and knife.

"Well excuse me!" sneered Willy. "I forgot my wet-naps and I don't feel like getting my gloves all greasy."

"When was the last time you actually took those off?"

Mr. Wonka's lip twitched.

"You're mumbling again" he muttered.

Suddenly Rachel dropped her ham sandwich. A curious sensation sent ripples through her body.

"Hey Willy, you want to feel something weird?"

Mr. Wonka gulped loudly.

"I'm not so sure I want to" he said with a nervous giggle.

"Trust me" she smiled. "It's not gross."

Turning a few shades paler, Willy allowed himself to sit next to Rachel. His throat heaved as she placed his hand against her stomach. Thoughts of disgust filled his head. But slowly they gave way to unbridled curiosity. He had always wondered about Rachel's expanding midriff, but never had the nerve to actually touch it. To Willy, it was more like a tumor than a growing baby.

"Whoa!" cried Mr. Wonka. "How'd you make your belly move like that?"

"I didn't" Rachel said. "That was the baby."

"You mean... it actually moves around inside you?"

Mrs. Buckett struggled to quiet her giggles.

"Uh huh. It's been doing it for a few days now."

A puzzled frown knitted itself on Willy's brow. He looked at Rachel's stomach for what felt like an eternity.

"That's just weird!" he marveled.

Suddenly a strange tinkling sound shattered the awkward pause. Reaching into his pocket, Willy pulled out his candy-colored cellphone.

"Hello? Oh, hi Gloria. What's that? Oh, okay."

He handed the little phone to Rachel.

"Its for you."

Cautiously the young woman brought the cellphone to her ear. The voice that came from it sent shock waves through her soul.

"Hey, babe."

"Hello, Richard" Rachel said, trying to keep her voice low.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"The same."

A long tense pause slithered between their words.

"I went looking for you at the blind home. They said you went to live at the chocolate factory."

"Why did you look for me?" Rachel heaved.

"I miss us, babe" cooed Richard. "I've got myself together, now. You should come by the apartment. There'll be plenty of room for all three of us."

"I don't need a new home, Rick."

Slowly Rachel edged her way back to the house. Thankfully Mr. Wonka was too busy regaling the Bucketts with tales of Loompa Land for them for anyone to notice. She wished she could join them. But Richard's voice was like a jackhammer in her skull.

"Look, you may not want to forgive me but it's still my baby! Have you even been to an obstetrician?"

"I'm going to hang up, Richard" She said numbly. "I don't want you to call me again."

The voice cut out with the press of the power button. But the hollow numbness did not go away. Her pallor the color of ash, Rachel made her way back to the picnic.

"Who was it?" asked Charlie.

"No one. Wrong number." Rachel staid a little too quickly. "If you don't mind, I'm a little tired. I'm going to go lie down."