The door flew open knocking me into the hallway. I screamed again, as Collins jumped back. The mail he had been holding flew helter-skelter onto the floor. Then he saw Mark and jumped a mile.

"Shoot, dude. You're supposed to be dead."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Man, it's you," Collins exclaimed joyfully as he hugged him, knocking him over.

I was frozen in place, I couldn't do anything as it sank in.

"You're alive," I whispered.

"Of course I am. You can even feel me," he joked as he kissed me, pulling me up off the floor.

"We thought you were dead," I cried, as I relished his arms around me. I squeezed him in a hug that I was never going to let him out of. I couuld do nothing except hold and kiss him. "My love, you're back," I sobbed.

"Dead? What?"

"The airline called and told us you were on the plane that went down."

"The plane went down?"

"It's been all over the news," Collins told him.

Mark went white. "I was booked for that flight, but I was met in London and directed somewhere else. The wedding was actually taking place in Ireland, but they were making arrangements so it looked like everyone was going to Germany to the unauthorized paparazzi. I was saved," he said. He looked like he was the one who was going to faint now.

"You didn't know?" I asked, as we settled onto the couch.

He shook his head. "We've been in sequester for the past week, when we haven't been working. Their security team insisted."

"How did you know about the baby?"

"I called Roger because your answering machine was full, and I was worried. All I heard Roger say was a bunch of stuff that didn't make sense. Then he said you were pregnant, that came through clear, and then the phone cut out after that."

"Thank you Roger," I muttered under my breath.

Collins cleared his throat. "I'm going to go now."

"Thanks Collins," I told him, "for everything."

"No need," he assured me, as he walked out the door.

"So is it true?" he asked.

"Yes."

"We're going to have a baby?" he said, looking stunned.

"Yes."

"I'm going to be a father?"

"That's usually how it works."

"Wow."

"Are you okay?"

"I am. I'm – actually- happy about it, I guess. I just didn't expect it. Not at this point in my life. How are you feeling? Are you okay?" he started to ask anxiously. "You must have had such a shock."

"I'm fine," I laughed. For the first time in days I truly felt fine again.

My stomach was fluttering as I stood as Mark's apartment door, and not becuase of the baby that lay inside. Now that it turned out he was really alive, we had decided it was finally time for me to meet his parents. We weren't going to tell them the rest of the news just yet. Mark felt it would be much better for them to just meet me first.

"Hey Roger," I greeted him as he slid open the door.
"Come on in ," he gestured. "Mark just called. He got stuck in traffic. He'll be here in a few minutes."
How can he be stuck? He drives a bike?"
"Detours," Roger shrugged as he sat back on the couch next to Mimi.
"Hey Joanne," Mimi greeted me.
"Hi Mimi, how are you?"
"Girl, you will never belive who I saw at the Catscratch last night," Mimi laughed. She hadn't been a dancer since her near death experience, but she was their stage manager in a pinch.
"Who?"
"Benny."
"Really? What about -" I trailed off as I tried to remember his wife's name.
Mimi shook her head. "She wasn't there, but Maureen was. I guess she was really upset becuase she got really drunk. Anyway, she and Benny left together."
"Together? You're kidding."

The door burst open.
"You guys will never believe who I saw making out in the street," Mark said with a strange expression, as he came over to greet me.
"Benjamin Coffin the third and resident drama queen?" Roger asked.
"You guessed," Mark stated.
"Mimi saw them at the Catscratch," I said.
"Isn't he still with Muffy?" Roger asked.
"Last time I checked he was," Mark said

Soon after that, we left to meet his parents for dinner at "Dijon's", a nice Italian restaurant, but not pricey. I was starting to bludge a little bit. To be on the safe side, I wore a dress that just made me look fat instead of pregnant.
"So Joanne, what do you do?" his mother asked.
"I'm a private lawyer," I said simply.
"Mark, this one's a keeper," his mother declared nudging him. We exchanged secretive smiles.
"You're a lawyer?" his father asked incredulously. "I never liked lawyers. Mark didn't Maureen dump you for a lawyer?" His father burst out laughing as he put two and two together. "Okay Mark, Joanne, the jig is up. What are you two up to?"
"What do you mean?" Mark asked confused.
"Joanne aren't you a lesbian?"
"Dad," he prostested.
"I was," I answered putting an emphasis on "was". "Mark here was too irresistable."
"Well, smart girl," he laughed, "smart girl" he muttered to himself again under his breath.
The waiter came to the table. "Can I get you some drinks?" he asked.
"Scotch on the rocks, and keep 'em coming," his father replied.
"I'll have a Shirley Temple," his mother ordered.
"I'll take a Budwieser?" Mark requested.
And for you, ma'am?"
"Just a lemonade please?"
"Aw come'on Joann, you look like a martini type of gal," his father encouraged.
"I can't drink. I've got a big case tomorrow," I lied.
"One drink won't hurt. Bring the lady a martini," his father ordered.
"Dad, Joanne is pregnant, quit forcing the drinks."
There was a moment of silence. "I'll just get you a lemonade," the waiter mumbled as he scurried away.
Mark turned white as he realized what had just slipped
"You're what?" his mother gasped.
"We may as well tell them Mark."
"Joanne is pregnant," Mark said.
"Who's the father?" his mother asked. She didn't ask to be mean or vicious. She honestly wanted to know.
"Mark is," I said.
His mother looked like she was about to faint.
"It's okay. We're going to get married," Mark told them.
His mother hit the floor.

The evening ended as soon as we helped Mrs. Cohen into their Cadilac.
"That's why I didn't want to tell them," Mark remarked ruefully as we watched them drive off.
"They hate me," I said.
"No, they don't. They were just shocked."
"They think I corrupted you."
"No, they don't. They'll love you. I promise."

The next morning there was a message on Mark's machine inviting him to Sunday dinner, and to bring me with. There was no fainting or awkward orders for drinks this time. In fact both his parents seemed genuinely excited for a new daughter-in-law, and "a grandchild to spoil," as his dad put it.