"When are you coming back?" he asked again

She shrugged, "Drew's still... suspicious." She leaned against him, guiding his hand to her stomach to pet the baby.

Jerry let out a noise, pausing the movie, clearly intent on getting a set date. "Of course he is. But you promised to come back, Libs."

"I can't," she complained. "He... I don't think it's helped that I pulled away physically again. … I just hate … touching him." She shivered. "And... ugh. He's so.. He's a pig. And he touches me and expects me to warm to him and kiss him and touch-"

She gagged in the back of her throat and Jerry smiled, thinking she was dramatizing, until she pushed his arm away from her, running for his bathroom.

He followed, pulling her hair away from her face and petting her back as she retched. "Oh, Libs... I'm sorry, hunny. I thought- well, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, reaching and flushing the toilet before accepting his help in standing. Brushing her teeth, she watched their reflections before spitting, offering, "Not your fault."

"I wanna help," he reminded.

"He.. is very suspicious. I can't come back to work just yet," she repeated. She rinsed her mouth before letting him lead her back to the couch. "Let's just watch the movie, huh? I'm due back at the restaurant at two and you have to get back to the office."

He nodded, kissing her shoulder and curling an arm around her again, "Okay, Libs. Whatever you want."

"Jerry!"

He blinked for a minute, his phone to his ear. He'd barely answered it. How was he in trouble already? … Pregnancy. Man, was it kickin' his ass.

"Li- Wh- One second. Yeah, thank you. Goodbye. Close the door on your way out." He waved a hand at the artist, the other covering the receiver, "I'll call you. Don't call me." He waited until the artist left, closing the door as instructed, before returning to the call. "Libs? Yeah, what is it?"

"Why are you ignoring me?" she started crying on the other end.

He bit his lip, covering the receiver as he let out a sigh.

… Yeah. This pregnancy was kickin' his ass. He was wrong seventy percent of the time. And the other thirty was spent complaining about Drew. After their physical, loving reunion, she seemed to have lost most interest in sex, often pushing him away and running to the bathroom in the middle – seemed the morning sickness was kickin' her ass since it lasted all day. So he'd stopped trying. Which got him tearfully accused of not being interested in her because she was fat. So he'd tried to romance her again, getting an expensive dinner delivered – she'd vomited that up – before trying to make love to her. She'd yelled at him that she wasn't a doll and couldn't turn it on or off. Since then, he'd been physically affectionate – kissing, hugging, cuddling – more than ever, but firmly made sure he never started sex unless she started moaning while kissing. … Which wasn't often. But it was … some degree of balanced. And it worked well enough.

Even though he was going half mad with not being able to touch her. She was more beautiful than ever, with her healthy glow and rounding stomach and fuller breasts. And he couldn't touch her because it just made her cry.

"I'm not, sweetheart," he promised. "I assumed this would be a private phone call, so I had to send out the artist. Uh... Bennings, I think it was."

"... That new young one you hired?" she sniffed suspiciously. "With the long legs."

He closed his eyes – he'd brought this on himself, he couldn't blame her when he'd brought up the young artist. "... Yes." He could practically hear her contemplate hanging up. "But I love you, Libs. You know that. I don't want someone else. I want to be with you." And make love. All night. "And cuddle! And pet our baby."

She exhaled into the phone, "Fine."

He licked his lips, taking what he could get, "... Sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong? Did you want to leave now for lunch? Or do you know what you want me to pick up?"

"No. I-"

She started crying again and he sat up stiffly in his chair, "What's wrong? Is it Drew? Did he hurt you? Did he hurt the baby? Do you need me to come get you? Where are you? I'll leave now."

"No!" she yelled, stopping him. "I'm fine. The baby's fine. Everyone's fine."

"Then what?" he pleaded. "You sound upset, Libs."

She sniffed again, "I'm going to Hawaii!"

This was bad?

"... Oh," he returned, trying to sound disappointed. "... And you don't want to be on the beach in a maternity swimsuit?"

She cried loudly again before evidently deciding to hang up on him, the line going dead.

… Man, this pregnancy was kickin' his ass.

He went home for lunch, as per their agreement, though he doubted she'd show.

But there she was, her feet crossed at the ankle on his coffee table as she munched on popcorn.

He set the Chinese down on the table in front of her, taking his usual spot beside her. "... I'm sorry about earlier," he tried. "You're right. Hawaii is..." He struggled for a word, still unsure of what reaction he was supposed to have. But she supplied it for him, raising a hand and crying.

"A place I'll never see! I'll never dip my toes in the ocean or- or hear Don Ho sing!"

He blinked, "But you said you were going."

"Who were we kidding!? Drew and I can't afford to shut the restaurant down for ten whole days! They'd foreclose the house! And-and Corky needs so much help at school!" she shook her head, turning and crying into his shirt. "We can't go!"

Privately, he was rather glad she wasn't going with Drew. The man was a pig. And he didn't want to think about her and her husband in some king-sized bed. … Even if she didn't want to, she'd go through with being intimate with him to keep him calm and happy. And he hated the thought of it. At least at home, Drew came back from the restaurant worn out and too tired to push sex. In Hawaii, he wouldn't be tired. He'd... be served champagne and strawberries. And would try to seduce her. And she'd give in... for the kids – he had to tell himself it was for the kids. If she really wanted Drew, she wouldn't keep coming to him.

"I'll take you one day," he promised, curling his arms around her. "We'll call it some business thing and I'll take you. And you can swim in the Pacific. In a gorgeous bathing suit. And we'll go hear Don Ho sing. And I'll feed you strawberries. I promise."

She shook her head, "No you won't! You'll-" She cried harder, fisting her fingers in his shirt, "You'll leave me cause I can't leave Drew! And you'll hate me!"

He kissed her head, "No. That will never happen. I'm here, Libs. I'm here for the long haul. Forever. I'll be here... regardless of if you leave Drew. And if you do, I'll be here to propose and marry you and take care of you and the kids. C'mon, sweetheart. No more tears. Our baby's hungry. So why don't we cuddle and you can feed him and you. And we'll watch a movie."

"... Okay," she nodded reluctantly. "... You really promise you'll take me to Hawaii?"

"Cross my heart," he cooed, pulling the bag closer before handing her her combination platter. "Do you want your eggroll now?"

She shook her head. "After. Did you get forks? And duck sauce?"

And just like that, they were back in their usual schedule. … For the moment.

He sat up, groaning, as he answered the phone, "Yeah, hello?" He blinked, still half-asleep.

And then he was fully awake, the crying on the other end of the line alerting him.

"Libs? Libs, what's wrong?"

"We're going!" she cried.

Going where?

Oh, Hawaii.

… Oh. With Drew.

"But I thought you couldn't. Cause-" He wasn't awake enough to remember the reasons she'd given before, fumbling, "Uhm... Corky! Corky's schooling and the... restaurant?"

She sniffed, "He's getting his brother to run the restaurant and he's getting the homework from Corky's tutors!"

Oh. … Then Drew had figured it out, was dragging his Libs to Hawaii to... have his way with her on sandy beaches. And he couldn't stop it. … Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, though. Maybe Drew wouldn't push it. Maybe he... just wanted a vacation from the restaurant.

He froze when she spoke again.

"He's calling it our honeymoon!"

He'd kill the bastard. Calling it their honeymoon? Firstly, he was using some... free trip to take Libby on a honeymoon twenty some years late. Secondly... with a monicker like that, he was certainly planning to be intimate. If he wasn't, he'd call it a vacation. He was going to use Corky's trip to bed Libby. His Libs.

She sniffed, "And- and the WORST part is I won't SEE you for ten days!"

… And he couldn't get her out of it. Unless she planned to leave Drew, she couldn't turn down a free honeymoon to Hawaii. He'd be so suspicious.

"... When do you leave?" he breathed.

"A c-couple of days!" she started sobbing on the other end, he aching to hold her. "I-I tried to talk him out of it. I told him I didn't want Richard to run the restaurant. But he said he's family!" She was nearly growling now and he was privately worried she'd wake Drew. … She was presumably somewhere in the house. .. And not quiet. Which, while often a turn-on, was not conducive to illicit late night phone calls to facilitate an affair.

He closed his eyes, knowing even as he did it that it'd get him yelled at, "Shh, Libs. Calm down. Drew will hear."

She nearly shrieked, as... predicted. "Hear!? The man... exhausted himself taking me after he'd decided we were going on our damn honeymoon!"

He let out a growl of his own, sitting up, "He forced you? I'll be right there. I'll- Libs, I'll take you away from him. You don't have to stay. Husbands can rape their wives. They're.. they're trying cases. There's recognition. We'll get him arrested."

"We can't!" she cried, reminding, "Corky!"

He nodded reluctantly, "... Okay. I- … I don't know, Libs. I don't know what to do. … I'll miss you."

She cried harder, "I don't wanna leave you!"

"Shh, sweetheart. You're not leaving yet. I will see you tomorrow, right? For lunch?" he reminded, trying to sound cheerful.

"I don't know," she admitted. "W-we have to pack."

He exhaled, "... Call me? Let me know? And, uh... Libby, w-will you call me while you're there?"

"Of course I will!" She was crying again. She made a wet kissing noise into the phone, "I l-love you!"

"I love you too," he promised. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He heard the click, telling him she'd hung up, he unable to keep back a soft, "Be safe."

It was... just after three in the afternoon. He wasn't sure about the time difference, but he was sure that Drew had to be around. And she was going to get herself in trouble. And this wasn't like when he could drive across Glen Brook. She was in Hawaii.

"Libs, Libs, Libs," he soothed. "Hunny, calm down. What is it? Where's Drew?" She'd called and just started crying about geckos and luggage.

"He's trying to get us a flight back! He-he's on another pay phone!" she cried.

He nodded, "Okay, hunny. Now tell me what's wrong, hmm?"

But he'd opened a can of worms and now she was crying louder. And he was sure her kids would notice. Or Drew. "It's not first class at all! Th-there was no limo and no leis and the airline smashed our luggage and then Earl lost it and then they gave us a cr-crummy room and there are lizards all over the walls!"

He blinked, trying to absorb the information. "... Like wallpaper?"

"No!" she yelled, clearly impatient. .. Though, understandably. From the sounds of it, it was a rough day for anyone, let alone his poor pregnant lover. "They're REAL! They move and they come off the wall and they're everywhere!"

"Oh, Libs," he sighed, trying to think of something. … Maybe he could have money wired to them. He'd given her one of his credit cards for emergencies and alerted the company 'he' was going to Hawaii so they wouldn't shut it off. And, conveniently, because she'd been his assistant for so long, she was legally allowed to sign. Though some stores may question it and ask for I.D. And then he'd get a call. But he could smooth that over. He'd rather she had it. … But he doubted Drew wouldn't notice if she sprung for a proper hotel. Or bought seats back.

She sniffed, continuing, "And I haven't eaten since breakfast!"

… And she did tend to get cranky when meal times were postponed. .. Even before she'd gotten pregnant.

"Well, hunny, why don't you eat?" he suggested gently.

She whined, arguing, "We can't until Drew finds out about the seats back!"

"What about your purse? Don't you have snacks or something in there?" he tried.

"I can't eat in front of the kids if I don't have enough to share!" she practically yelled.

He exhaled, nodding, "Of course. I'm sorry. L-"

"I have to go," she hissed, the click telling him she'd hung up.

"-ibs. .. Love you too," he smiled thinly, replacing the phone in its cradle.

He couldn't keep up with this pregnancy. But they were coming home. It'd be fine. He'd see her.. probably tomorrow. For lunch. And he's rub her tired feet and kiss her brow. And get her to calm down.

Just... what was it? Seven more months?

Oy.

"Hello?" he blinked wearily as he answered the phone. … It was Libby. It had to be. She was calling to say they'd landed safely.

"We're staying!" she cried.

He sat upright, "What?"

She started speaking very quickly between sniffles, "We tried to make Corky feel better and decided we'd stay and rent cheap motel-" He didn't want his Libby and their baby in a cheap motel! "-and use the vouchers for food and clothes and everything and then we went to see Don Ho and our vouchers were expired but then Corky met him outside and he got us in and then Mr. Ho said we could stay at his fancy new luxury hotel for free because he felt so bad for us and the new hotel is gonna be perfect and wonderful and there'll be room service and a nice pool and fancy, wonderful dinners and cushy, plush beds and everything's perfect!"

… Oh. That wasn't so bad.

"That's... good?" he tried. She wailed in response, telling him he'd guessed incorrectly. Again. He could not keep up with this pregnancy. "Shh," he soothed. "I'm sorry, Libs. I'm sorry! It's bad. It's very very bad. It's terrible. The worst."

"It's perfect!" she cried loudly.

… What in the hell was he supposed to do with that? Was that a joke? Was this a prank? Was she even in Hawaii? Was she going to burst into his apartment, laughing at his confusion?

It's perfect but she's crying. It's terrible and she's crying. Weren't pregnant women supposed to glow and be jolly? All Libby did was cry and make him feel guilty for reasons neither of them could seem to figure out.

"... I'm sorry?" he repeated.

"It's the nicest, most perfect honeymoon ever and it's not with you!" she sobbed.

Oh. She missed him. And didn't want to share the experience with Drew. … Now he understood. She'd been clingy since she'd gotten pregnant and had complained about Drew almost since she'd started as his assistant.

He leaned back against the pillows, "Oh, sweetie... I'll take you on a nice trip. I promise. And... Don't think of it as a honeymoon. Think of it as a vacation. With the kids. You never get to see Corky and Becca enough, right? Spend the time with them. And spend the time being pampered the way you don't get to at home."

"... Don't you miss me?!" she demanded, squawking. "Why aren't you upset we're not coming home!? Don't you want me to come home, Jer? You're so insensitive! God!"

"Libby, sweetie, please calm down. That's not true. I love you. I'm missing you terribly. I can't wait until you come home to me so I can kiss you and pet the baby and rub your feet and your back and get you whatever you're craving and tell you how beautiful you are," he rambled, hoping some piece of the truth would worm its way past her ire and soothe her anger.

She exhaled in his ear in a huff, "... I don't know if I believe you. I have to go back to our cheap motel room. I said I was getting ice. I can't be gone too long."

He clutched the phone, trying again, "Okay. I love you and the baby very very much and I miss you both. But you have fun and relax for me. Get an extra massage and tan at the pool."

"... Relax for you?" she echoed – and he knew he'd said something wrong. "Because it's so stressful for you and your body right now? Let me tell you about my body, Jerry! Let me tell you about this heat and how much weight I've gained! Let me tell you about how sick I feel and about how I can't wear anything revealing or they might notice I'm pregnant!" she squawked.

"No, no. Of course you need to relax for you. I was teasing," he promised.

"This is a joke to you!?" she screeched.

He closed his eyes, "No. Love, you're taking this the wrong way. I just meant that you need to relax and take advantage of not having to work or take care of a house or anything. You can just read those books you never have time for. And tan by the pool – I know how much you love the water and the beach. And the pregnancy has been hard on you. So you should get a nice massage, sweetie."

"I can't lay on my stomach on the table!" she reminded, snapping.

He gritted his teeth before exhaling, "... Maybe you can ask them to give you a prenatal massage and not... record it that way. So Drew won't know. They're supposed to be very good for the baby. I was doing some research-"

But again he was wrong, she interrupting, "What am I to you? An oven? You want me to get a massage cause it's good for the baby!?"

"And you," he added. "It's supposed to be good for both of you. It relaxes you and works the muscles that the tension is drawn to and your relaxation helps the baby. Sweetheart, I love you whether or not you're having my baby. But since you are and you said your back and feet have been hurting, why not take advantage of your relaxation vacation?"

She sighed in his ear before agreeing, "... I suppose I could maybe do that."

He smiled, relieved, "Good. Whatever you want to do for you. I love you very very much, love. You and the baby. And I miss you both."

"... We love you too," she returned after a beat. "But I have to go. I'll check in later."

She hung up without waiting for his response and he dropped the phone before rolling onto his stomach as he groaned.

… This pregnancy was going to be the death of him.

He shooed the artist out of his office before sitting on the edge of his desk as he answered the phone, "Hello and thank you for calling B-"

"Jer!"

"Libs?" he deflated before rounding his desk and sitting down. … He had been looking forward to another call from her – he preferred she check in regularly what with Drew – but he'd been waiting on another call from a client.

"... You're not happy it's me," she accused, reading his voice. … which wasn't fair since she was so hard to read over the phone while pregnant.

He shook his head, "Yes I am, hun. Of course I am."

She whined, "No you're not! Jer! Why don't you care!? I wanted to call and tell you all about the hotel and how nice it is and you don't even care!"

"Yes I do," he promised. "I care a lot. Tell me al-" He groaned when she hung up. "… Damn it." He let out a sigh, jumping when the phone rang again. He picked it up, starting immediately, "I care deeply, Libs. You know I do! Tell me all about your fancy hotel and your massage and the pool."

"... Mr. Berkson?"

He gripped the phone, biting back a sigh, "Mr. Kolter. Yes. Sorry about that."

The man on the other end laughed, "Trouble with the missus?"

"Trouble with the girlfriend, yes," he confirmed. "But I apologize. Thank you for calling, Mr. Kolter. Can I call you Tim? Tim, let's talk about your vision and what we at Berkson & Berkson can do to make it a reality."

… He'd kill Libby. Well, of course he wouldn't. But she was affecting the company and his professionalism now with her mood swings. They needed to talk about this. Maybe... Only call during lunch or after work except in the case of emergencies.

"Libs," he started hesitantly, "... Do you think... maybe we can map out times to call?"

"... Why?" she demanded, her voice flat on the other end where she'd been gushing a moment ago about the fabulous pool.

He chewed his lip, "Well, I mean... it just might be nice. Don't you think? So I … have an idea of when you're going to call And I can clear my mind of any distractions."

Her irritation was nearly palpable. "... Why would you be distracted when I'm calling you, Jerry?"

"Just.. sometimes at work, we get a little backed up. Stella is... not exactly the best assistant. And she's not organized," he explained, trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

She clucked her tongue, "Why would you have hired an assistant who's disorganized, Jerry?"

… Shit. It was never a good sign when she used his name repeatedly. That was never good.

"I- I didn't think I'd have to keep her for long," he laughed awkwardly. "Have I mentioned I miss you?"

"... You hired her because she's young and has perky breasts. Didn't you, Jer?" she accused, sounding angry now. "Because you want to sleep with her."

He shook his head, "No. Hunny, n-"

"Because you hate me!" she started crying on the other end.

He bit back a sigh, closing his eyes, "No, Libby. I don't hate you. I love you. You know that, sweetheart. I just thought it might be … easier for me to focus on you and all your delightful stories if you only call during lunch or after work."

"You don't care anymore!" she argued, still crying. "You used to be worried about Drew and now you don't care cause you love Stella!"

"No, Libs. That's not true. I love you. Only you," he soothed.

She let out a squawk on the other end, demanding, "What about our baby!?"

He winced, nodding, "Yes. Of course. And the baby. You and the baby. Only both of you."

"What about my kids!? You say you want me to leave Drew but you don't even love my kids! How can I leave them without a father!?" she cried.

… This was ridiculous. She'd already told him she wasn't leaving Drew. But now he had to be ready to be a father to two teenagers he barely knew even though he'd never be asked to actually step up. … Fatherhood was becoming increasingly unfair. Not that he wouldn't step up. He'd love to. He'd love to whisk her away from that pig Drew.

"... And the kids. I love Corky and Becca and Paige too. You and the baby and Corky and Becca and Paige," he agreed.

She sniffed, "And Arnold?"

Who the hell was Ar- The dog. Right. … She didn't know he was allergic. Eh. Hardly mattered. By the time she left Drew, the dog would probably be dead. They only lived... what? Fifteen years? And the dog had to be at least twelve.

"Yes. And Arnold," he echoed.

She exhaled, "... Good. Then why can't I call?"

He shrugged, giving up, "You can, love. Any time you want. I love hearing from you. I'm glad you're getting this little vacation, but I miss you so much. Tell me more about your day. You already told me about the pool. What about that buffet you mentioned? I bet the baby loved that."

"Well," she started, the smile in her voice making the minor headache and huge confusion of their small argument worth it, "it had fruit and burgers and kabobs with chicken and peppers and onions. Oh, Jer, it was to die for. I've never tasted food so good."

"Well, you just soak it up. And know that I miss you, darling," he returned.

He could hear the smile in her voice, "I miss you too!"