Chapter 12:

When I Asked if My Life Could Get Worse, It Was A Rhetorical Question – Not a Challenge

"Look, all I'm saying as that it's a nice thought." Caleb held up his hands in surrender as he set his beer down on the table.

"And I'll I'm saying is that the timing is horrible." Toby replied, setting his beer down as well.

"It's romantic. Come on, candles, nice dinner outside, maybe a picnic? It's your anniversary. She'll be so in love with it she'll be proposing to you." Caleb nudged Toby's arm with his fist.

"I told you. With everything going on with her family and Aria's wedding…it's too much for her. It wouldn't be the right time. She wouldn't enjoy it."

"Uhm, excuse me?" Emily spoke up from between them, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "But could someone please enlighten me as to why I'm here? At guys' night out?" She set her glass of coke down.

"Because you have a valid opinion, too." Toby replied, taking a swig of his beer, "And we thought it would be fun to have you."

"At guys' night out…?" Emily repeated. "I'm gay, Toby – not a dude." She shook her head.

"Would you relax – get off your soap box. I don't need another half-hour of getting my ear yacked off about how 'being a lesbian doesn't make you a guy.' I know. You are one-hundred percent girl. Now, I just want your honest opinion. The timing is bad, right?" Toby asked.

"Well," Emily began after taking a sip of her drink, "seeing that the most recent bomb to be dropped on her was a mere day ago, I'd say Toby's right, Caleb."

"Plus, who even knows if she wants to get married?" Toby added.

Emily and Caleb lowered their chins to their chests, staring at Toby as if they were looking over a pair of glasses, their expressions identical. "Are you kidding me?" Caleb asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, and maybe Hanna doesn'twant to go shopping with me tomorrow." Emily said at the same time.

Toby shrugged, "Hey, it's a valid question!"

"Oh, please, Toby. That girl wants a ring on her finger. She can deny it all she wants, but you should see her. This morning, when I met her for coffee, she was so starry-eyed, lost in her daydream that she filled her cup with to the brim with milk and nutmeg – no coffee, just milk. And. Nutmeg."

Caleb took a gulp of his beer before setting on the bar once more. "There is no doubt in the world that that girl is head-in-the-clouds, 100%, ass-backward in love with you. All you need to do…is put a ring on her pretty little finger."

"Would you both just hear me out?" Toby groaned. "I have a plan. It's forming in my head. I got this – I'm a romantic. That's what romantics do. Romeo left big shoes to fill, but I think I've got just the plan to fill them. Trust me."

"Just make it special for her." Emily replied.

"Oh, bummer Em." Toby rolled his eyes. "I was just going to treat her to the IHOP and spring it on her, then whisk her away to Vegas and get hitched at a drive-through chapel. Maybe, if I'm lucky, she'll be barefoot and pregnant before she graduates."

"Ha-ha, very funny." Emily wrinkled her nose. "Just…plan your steps carefully."

"Emily. I love you. But, please," Toby said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me on this."

Emily sighed and shook her head, but smiled nevertheless, "Alright, I trust you." She held up her glass. "Cheers to totally screwing traditional gay gender roles and whatever plan you are concocting in that head of yours."

"Cheers." Caleb and Toby chorused, tapping their beers against her glass.

"I have, I have you breathing down my neck, breathing down my neck, I don't…don't know what you could possibly expect under this condition…" Spencer sang loudly, pushing the refrigerator door shut with her hip and twirling towards the countertop, where she placed a carton of eggs. Singing loudly and making breakfast for dinner were things that she did when Toby was out. Scratch that,

she indulged in loud, festive song-making and cooked heaping piles of pancakes and such even when Toby was around. Of course, the mere thought of letting her goofy side show in front of anyone else gave her the skeevies.

"Slow down…this night's a perfect shade of dark blue, dark blue, have you ever been alone in a crowded room…?" She hummed, cracking two eggs into a bowl. Toby wasn't set to be home for another hour or so – he had come home from work and instead of joining her on the couch like the usually Sunday night routine went about, he had grabbed his jacket and mumbled something about meeting with Caleb for drinks.

So, Spencer had taken full advantage of her alone time, digging her emergency spa kit that she had tucked away in his closet, applied a heavy white cleansing-mask to her face, and changed into one of Toby's pale blue t-shirts and her own pair of sweats.

She had just finished sliding the newly poached eggs onto a plate to accompany the strips of bacon when a subtle knock on the front door made her jump like a deer. She reached over and pressed PAUSE on her iHome, arching an eyebrow.

"Hello?" She inquired, tiptoeing slowly out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Toby?"

As she carefully neared the door, pressing her fingers softly to it, a voice rang out from the other side before she could peer through the peep-hole.

"It's me." Melissa's voice replied thickly.

Spencer flipped the lock and opened the door. Standing in the midst of the night, illuminated by the pale glow of the distant streetlights on the road, was indeed her sister. Spencer's eyebrows rose as she took in Melissa's form – her eyes were bloodshot and ringed with red from crying, the skin around them a blotchy, raw color. Her nose crinkled and she sniffed. "Spence…"

"Melissa…" Spencer murmured, concerned. Fresh tears fell in streams down her face, and Spencer stepped forward and crushed her to her, putting a hand on the back of her head. Melissa's muffled sobs sounded from her shoulder. "What happened?"

"Remember that time…" Her voice was like she was speaking through a pillow, "when you told me that you felt scared and you didn't feel like anything could help you?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know what to do, Spencer. I'm so scared."

"Shh…it's okay."

"It's not." Melissa shook her head. "Nothing will ever be okay again."

"Thanks." Melissa sniffed as Spencer finished pouring her a cup of coffee.

"Mmm-hmm." Spencer replied, setting the coffeepot back in its place on the coffeemaker. She grabbed her plate of breakfast-slash-dinner and set it between them.

Melissa shook her head. "No, I'm not hungry."

Spencer nodded and sighed. "Melissa." She looked deeply into her sister's eyes, sitting down on the barstool next to her, "What. Happened?"

Melissa bit her lip and cast her eyes downward. "I…I'm pregnant, Spencer."

A beat of silence condensed the room.

"And…it's Franco's…" Melissa finished, her voice breaking. She suddenly burst into tears again, and Spencer hopped off of the stool and wrapped her arms around her.

"Oh, Melissa…" Spencer didn't know what else to say.

"What am I going to tell Wren?" Melissa sobbed.

"Are you sure you're pregnant?" Spencer asked, stroking her back.

Melissa nodded into her shoulder. "I felt sick this kind of morning and I realized that I should have gotten my period five days ago. I thought at first that it was just something messed up with my hormones, but I bought a pregnancy test and the drug store…and it said positive."

"Well, those aren't always accurate…" Spencer tried, but Melissa peered up at her and the skeptic look on her face made Spencer shut up.

"And are you…are you sure it's Franco's?"

Melissa snorted. "Of course. Wren and I haven't had sex in, well…God, I don't even know how long. He comes home late, tired and…well, we both know how much he lacks interest in anything involving me."

Spencer rubbed her sister's back and pulled back further to look at her face. "Have you told Franco?"

Melissa nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"And what does he say?"

Melissa smiled a bit, in spite of herself. "He said that…if I want to try and pass the child off as Wren's…that he understood." She sniffed. "He said that he wanted me to be happy, and that he loved me, no matter what. He told me he loved me, Spence. Do you know how long it's been since I've heard that, spoken with such truth and devotion?" Her eyes dropped to the floor, "How could I possibly try and pass up our child – the utmost symbol of our love – as someone else's?"

"I don't know." Spencer sighed. "Do you think Wren would leave you if you told him the truth?"

Melissa shrugged. "I don't know. But if he did, where would that leave Taylor? Only four years old and already jumping from one parent's house to the next?" She sighed, wiping away the dried tears, "I promised her last year that…that we would stay a family. She came home crying from school because they were talking about the family, and she realized that her mom and dad didn't act like the model parents that they talked about. And I told her that, while we were different, we would always be a family." She clenched her eyes shut and whispered hoarsely, "What am I going to do?"

"I don't know, Melissa." Spencer said honestly, sighing. "I really just don't know."

"And the worst part is…I already love this baby with everything that I am. Taylor is my heart and soul, but this baby…the knowledge that it's something solid that Franco and I have together…that there's a little piece of him growing within me…it's the most beautiful thing in my world right now."

"Here." Spencer tugged her sleeve so that it covered the heel of her hand, and wiped it gently across her sister's face, cleaning off most of the tears. "Here's what I want you to do: you're going to take Taylor and sleep at Mom's house tonight, okay? And I want you to tell her what's going on. She'll understand – I know she will. If Wren asks, just say that you're…sorting some stuff out, okay?"

Melissa nodded. "Okay." She whispered. "And Spence?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You're a great sister. Actually, the best."

"Spencer, you have to stop thinking about this. It's going to drive you crazy." Toby shook his head.

"I know, I just…I cant stop seeing her, with that little baby that she loves so much…and then I see Wren, who doesn't care about her but yet…stands in the way of her becoming eternally happy with the man she loves. I mean, what is she going to tell him?" She leaned her head back against his shoulder, sinking deeper into the tepid bathwater.

"I don't know. But it's out of your hands. I know that you're family has a strict motto about ruining today's joy by obsessing over what tomorrow will bring, but for your sanity, accept that it's not in your power to change this."

It was late on Sunday night, and after Toby has returned from having drinks with Emily and Caleb and Spencer had sent Melissa home to her mother's, Spencer had told Toby the whole story, whom had insisted on taking a warm bath to calm her nerves. Her hair was piled atop her head and he was situated so that his back was against the tub and she was leaning back against him. His arms were lined up along the edge of the claw foot bathtub, and her arms rested atop his, their fingers intertwined.

Spencer sighed and shook her head. "Guess you're right."

He kissed her hair, "Alright, wanna get out? You're skin's looking a little pruney."

"Oh, ya, baby, say that again…" Spencer teased in a faux seductive voice, which made Toby laugh. He nuzzled the left side of her neck.

"I'm serious, you need sleep. You have early classes tomorrow. Want me to drive you back to campus?"

"Can't I stay here for the night?" Spencer groaned, knitting her eyebrows.

"Of course. You can stay as long as you'd like." She could feel him smiling into her shoulder, as he pressed a soft kiss there. "In fact, I hate to say it but, I think I'd be happiest if you'd never leave."

"I hate to say it, but I think I would, too." She grinned. A thought bubbled to her mind and she bit her lip, wrinkling her nose in a coy smile. "You know, if you moved your hips a fourth of an inch, this would be a whole other situation and I'd be feeling much better…"

Toby chuckled and kissed her temple once. "Nice try. Bed. Sleeping will put your mind at ease."

"Uhm, I think my suggestion would put my mind at ease much better…" Spencer disagreed.

"Juliet, when are you going to learn – you can't keep climbing up ladders and balconies if you don't sleep first."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure they didn't sleep at all the first three acts of the play…until their staged-slash-actual death, or course."

"Such a shame that you sprung for the education degree – you would have been such a good lawyer."

"Are you saying that I'm a good arguer?"

"I've told you before Spencer – you're not just a good arguer; you're the best."

"And I assume that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, I can tell you're smiling. Seems to be working like a charm."

"Alright, come here, you…" Spencer turned over her shoulder, "If you think I'm sleeping now you couldn't be more wrong…"