AN: Sorry it's taken me so long! I've been struggling a little with the idea that I'm not sure I can get characterization right for the residents of Cabot Cove, but I'm going to try. I'm begging suspension of disbelief and the knowledge that I've done my best. LOL
This can be read alone, but it's best following "Newsworthy."
There is a mention of miscarriage here. It's not too detailed, but I do like to make people aware.
I own nothing from Murder, She Wrote.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
111
Jessica's eyes were frequently darting, somewhat, around the diner. She was watching everyone that came in, everyone that stayed, and everyone that left. There was a touch of wildness there, in her eyes, that wasn't always present. Seth doubted that anyone would have noticed a single bit of it, but not too many people were as in-tune with Jessica as he considered himself to be. Beyond that, Seth could practically feel the emotions behind the slightly wild-eyed observation. It prickled his skin, almost, as if her anxiety were his anxiety—as if the two of them were connected in an unnatural way.
Of course, Seth wasn't given to flights of fancy, and he knew that he shared no sort of supernatural—or other nonsensical—bond with Jessica.
What they did share was a deep affection for one another, a deep respect for each other, and the kind of comfort and understanding that came from a long and intimate friendship that had been allowed—much to Seth's relief—to finally become more…much more.
Seth was in-tune with Jessica's emotions, not because of some supernatural link or the pull of the moon, but because he loved her, and he paid attention to her.
He reached a hand under the table and discreetly patted her knee. He watched her face. A soft smile was the first indication that the touch registered for her. Then, she visibly relaxed. Her shoulders rolled forward slightly, the somewhat visible tightness left her jaw, and her eyes lost a touch of the wildness just before they met his.
She laughed quietly, to herself, as though she understood the silent conversation they hadn't had—a chat during which Seth would listen to her concerns and tell her to calm down, doing his best to offer her some anecdote that might help to soothe her nerves. They hadn't needed any of that. The simple patting of her knee had been enough.
She drew in a breath and let it out. This one sounded relaxed. Seth felt his own body relax. He felt his own jaw release tension.
The woman in front of him would be the death of him—but what a way to go.
He laughed quietly at the thought and Jessica inquired about it by raising her eyebrows. When he didn't respond, she pressed him, verbally, for some explanation.
"Nothing," he said. "Just a passing thought. You look—high strung, Jess. Care to talk about it?"
"And say the same thing I've said a thousand times?" Jessica asked, a light laugh escaping her.
"That's the thing about worry," Seth said. "You say what's on your mind. I say don't worry about it. But the truth of the matter is, we all know it doesn't work like that. Worry just has to sort of—work itself out. Like a cramp."
Jessica smiled and nodded her head.
"And what did I do to merit you sitting with me while this…this exhausting, ongoing cramp…works itself out?" Jessica teased.
"Your cramp is my cramp," Seth said with a laugh. "We're in this together, Jess."
"You have no idea, Seth, how happy it makes me to hear you say that."
"Penny for your thoughts," Seth said. "Tell me what's on your mind. Let's see if we can't soothe it at least temporarily. And—finish that, will you?"
Jessica looked at her plate like she'd almost forgotten the chicken salad entirely. Of course, that was a problem that Seth felt like she often had—she got so involved in things in her mind, that sometimes she forgot about the needs of her body. He had his work cut out for him, at times, just keeping her fed and rested.
Jessica dutifully scooped some more of the chicken salad onto a cracker and took a bite, chewing through it carefully and thoughtfully.
"Good?" Seth asked.
She hummed and nodded.
"Do you want to talk about what's got you nervous, Woman?"
She half-shrugged.
"Well, I'm not nervous," she said. "Not—scared, at least. I suppose I do feel as if I have an excess of energy, and you might call that nervous energy, but…I'm not nervous in the purely traditional sense of the word, Seth."
"Ever the writer," Seth said. "Do you want to talk about whatever it is that you're feeling, Jess?"
She was amused by him. He was amused with her, too, but he did his best to swallow it down, taking a sip of coffee to keep it at bay. It wasn't good, after all, to always let her know that he often put on a bit for her entertainment.
"I'm excited," Jessica confessed. "I suppose that's it, really."
Seth let his smile come naturally.
"That's the best news I've heard from you…well…since our last bit of good news," Seth teased.
"I keep thinking that—everyone in here will know soon, Seth," Jessica said, her voice low enough to keep everything between them for the time being. "No matter what Mara says, we both know she can't keep a secret. We'll hardly get out the door before she's shared the news with every table she offers a refill to."
"That's the plan," Seth confirmed.
Jessica was smiling. The energy that was there before was still there, but now that Seth more completely understood it, he recognized it as excitement. It was practically girlish excitement, and he enjoyed how it lit up Jessica's features and colored her cheeks slightly.
Tapping his finger on the table was enough to remind her to eat her chicken salad. She did so, at least somewhat, as though she were fulfilling some obligation, though he didn't miss that she licked her lips in a way that indicated pleasure with the dish that she'd chosen without any hesitation or deliberation—clearly what she'd wanted.
"Half of Cabot Cove will know by this evening," Jessica said. "It'll be real to them, and it hardly even feels real to me yet."
She smiled and shook her head, closing her eyes a moment to accentuate her feelings on the matter, and then she shoveled more of the chicken salad onto a cracker without Seth's prompting. The taste of it, and whatever hunger she still had left, had clearly kicked in enough to do the driving for a moment.
"It can't be any more real, Woman," Seth said. "I did the blood test myself. If that's not enough, we saw it. Heard it, too." Seth smiled at the thought of it. His own heart had been in his throat the whole time. He was prepared to do anything that she needed him to do, and he knew that they could get through anything that might happen, together, but—oh—how he wanted Jessica to have her dream. He wanted her to have her dream even more than he wanted to have his own dreams.
When they heard that little heart beating to beat the proverbial band—well, there were moments in life when all was simply right with the world.
They had done a great deal to make this little one a reality, but it was there, now, and they would do everything they could to make sure that it stayed just where it needed to be, until it was ready to come fully into the world and into their lives.
"You know what I mean, Seth," Jessica said. "You hope for something so long, and then you finally put those dreams away. You accept that—that those dreams belong to others. Not you. Not anymore. And, then, suddenly…" She stopped and inhaled, releasing the deep breath in a peaceful sort of way. "Well…it's just so wonderful, and so overwhelming…all at the same time. It hardly seems possible. It doesn't seem like it can be real. I keep pinching myself just to prove to myself that it's not all some sort of hallucination that we're sharing, or something equally ridiculous."
"It's no hallucination," Seth assured her. "The more we say it, Jess, and the more we hear it said to us, the more it's going to feel real. Natural."
"I'm sure you're right," Jessica said.
"I might ought to have you document that," Seth teased. "It might not happen again."
"What?"
"That you admit I'm right," he teased.
"Seth…" Jessica scolded, though he didn't believe her scolding any more than she ever truly believed his.
"Maybe you should be the one to tell Mara," Seth said.
"No," Jessica said. "I want you to tell her. I'll have my fun, Seth. I promise. I'm going straight from here to Loretta's."
"You know," Seth said, "maybe we ought to take a trip to Augusta one day soon. We can have a nice dinner to celebrate, and we'll go and buy something for the baby."
Jessica looked around to see if someone had heard him mention the word "baby," but nobody was paying them any attention for the time being.
"Later, of course," Jessica said, satisfied that they were still having a private conversation.
"I was thinking sooner, rather than later," Seth said. "Maybe this weekend."
"What on Earth would we buy?" Jessica asked.
Seth laughed.
"I don't know, Jess. It's always been my understanding that…" He stopped, mindful of the fact that she was jumpy every time he said "baby," at least until the proverbial cat was let out of the bag in a few moments. "That they require a great deal of things. It seems to me there would be a whole world of purchases we could make, Woman."
"But you don't make purchases until later," Jessica said. "Much later."
"I assume you make purchases whenever you're financially ready and willing to do so," Seth said. "Something small. We'll wait on the furniture, if you like. Some blankets or…I don't know, Jess. Just something small. Something to…celebrate. Make it a bit more real."
"It's much too soon," Jessica said. Shaking her head at him and wiping her mouth, beginning to clean the table and pile things up in a way as to make it easier for Mara to clear things when she came, inevitably, to ask if they wanted something else, and to see if there was anything that might be shared to her gossip repertoire.
"You infuriate me, sometimes," Seth said, not really realizing that he was going to say it until it escaped his lips.
Jessica looked a little stunned. Admittedly, he was a little surprised by it, too. Not less than the words, he was surprised by his tone. It sounded sincere, partly because it was at least a little sincere.
Jessica looked at him with those big blue eyes. She froze, studying him. He got the uncomfortable feeling that at least one or two others were looking. He might not have been as quiet as he'd intended. Slowly, the others went back to their meals and conversations—leaving this lovers' spat between the two of them.
Jessica didn't look away from him. She didn't look at him, either, with hurt or accusation.
Seth sighed.
"That's not what I meant," he said.
"On the contrary," Jessica said with a pop of laughter. "I think that's exactly what you meant. My apologies, Seth. I—didn't mean to be infuriating."
Seth sighed again. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin. He felt the sensation that he'd felt as a boy—like ants were crawling around just under his skin. Jessica had been the only person in a long time that could make him feel downright squirmy.
"You're excited," Seth said. "You're nervous. You want to celebrate, but you don't want to do anything to celebrate. Jessica…"
"I'm driving you mad," she said, teasing a little. "And I'm sorry, Seth. I truly am. I don't know how to…stop. I'm driving myself mad, too, if it's any consolation."
Seth felt his muscles release a little. She was teasing, but she was also being sincere. He couldn't be but so mad at her. Jessica wasn't afraid of Seth. She wasn't afraid of his outbursts. She was hardly afraid of anything in the world—something that led him to worry a great deal, and far too often. The only thing that Seth had seen that truly frightened Jessica was exactly what he knew was on her mind right now.
She had lost two pregnancies. She remembered those losses vividly—viscerally. She and Frank had gotten through the losses, but they had left deep scars inside of her. She hadn't even told Seth all the details, yet—details he knew haunted her, because she woke up from her sleep, sometimes, coated in the cold sweat of a nightmare. He hadn't pressed her, knowing that she would share her stories when she wanted, and that would be soon enough for him.
But he knew that she feared, with every fiber of her being, going through that again. She knew that he would be there for her—that they would handle anything that needed to be handled together—but her heart feared that pain.
And Seth couldn't be angry with her.
He reached his hand across the table, and she let him hold her hand. He smiled at the gesture—it was something that was of the upmost importance to him— and he squeezed her hand in his.
"I can't tell you not to worry," Seth said. "Mostly because I know it doesn't do any good. In all my years of being a doctor, I've never told a patient to stop worrying who was actually able to do so. And you don't really infuriate me, Jess."
"Don't lie to me, Seth," she said, softly.
"I'm not," he said. "I'm frustrated. I won't pretend I'm not. But—if I'm being honest, it's my own helplessness that's truly driving me crazy. I wish I could promise you that everything will be fine. The most I can do is promise you that…I'm right here, no matter what."
She smiled sincerely and squeezed his hand back.
"That's the best thing you could offer me," Jessica said. "Because—that I can believe."
"I want us to go to Augusta," Seth said. "We'll buy something. One thing, Jess."
"We'll talk about it later," Jessica said.
It was a way of shutting down the conversation without openly disagreeing with him. Seth accepted it, but he filed it away as something they absolutely would talk about later—he fully intended to bring it back up when they were preparing dinner.
There was hardly time for them to talk about it now, at any rate, because Mara was already on her way over.
"How was that chicken salad, Jessica?"
"Wonderful," Jessica said, smiling broadly. There was a touch more color to her cheeks than usual—that glow, perhaps, that everyone talked about. "Just what I wanted."
"And your chowder?" She asked Seth.
"Could've used more salt," Seth said. He already knew Mara would expect something like that—though a few of her dishes he praised without restraint. She laughed and shook her head.
"Trying to be more heart friendly, Doc," she teased.
"You're doing a fine job of it," he said. "What—uh—what kind of pie do you have?"
"Pie, Seth?" Jessica said.
"Pie," he responded. "It's a special occasion."
He said the last part half to Jessica and half to Mara. He saw Mara perk up slightly.
"You're in luck," she said. "There's cherry and apple today. Both your favorites. I could give you a small slice of each."
Seth smiled at her.
"You know your pies are some of the best," he said. "What are you thinking, Jess? Apple or cherry…or both?"
She was amused, but also a touch nervous, he could tell. He tried to remind her, with nothing more than a look, that all was well. In fact, it was wonderful.
"Oh—I don't think I want pie," she said.
"Nonsense," Seth said. "Mara—refresh my coffee, if you don't mind, and get Jessica some decaf. Two slices of apple. Ice cream or cheese?"
Jessica smiled. Her cheeks colored.
"Ice cream," Seth said, before she could say anything. "To celebrate."
"What are you two lovebirds celebrating?" Mara asked, finally either breaking or taking the bait, depending on how one wanted to look at it. She had been a big supporter of them since they'd first decided to move from friendship to dating.
Seth's pulse kicked up. He felt the nervous excitement that Jessica had mentioned earlier. In a few moments, Mara would know, and soon all of Cabot Cove would know that they were going to be parents—that they were parents.
"Jessica and I have some really wonderful news," Seth said, hoping his voice didn't falter.
"Oh? And what is that?"
Seth looked at Jessica.
"Last chance, Jess, if you wanna say it yourself."
Jessica laughed.
"Go ahead, Seth. Don't keep Mara waiting."
"Just starting to share it," Seth said. "But—" He stopped. He realized that, though he'd been looking forward to this moment, and to sharing their little one with the world, he hadn't actually prepared what he would say. He accepted that it didn't matter. What he said—the exact words he chose—didn't matter. "There's to be another Hazlitt in town, it seems."
Mara's face registered what he'd said, but then it also registered her clear resistance to fully accept it. She was waiting for more.
"Jessica is, of course, in the family way," Seth offered, clarifying things.
The full acceptance practically made Mara visibly swell with the news. Her eyes got big and round and she rose up, Seth could have sworn, on her toes. She looked directly at Jessica.
And Jessica laughed.
She was already nodding.
"It's true!" She said. "It's true…I'm…pregnant."
Seth expected Mara's excited and heartfelt congratulations. He also expected her to tell others in the diner. Things still went a little differently than he'd expected, though, because he'd thought she might tell people while she refreshed their coffee or collected chatter about who was seeing who and who was up to things they ought not to be doing. He hadn't expected her to very loudly proclaim their news while hugging Jessica and offering her congratulations that nearly echoed through the space.
But, in hindsight, Seth wouldn't have wanted anything less.
Because Mara's congratulations led to the congratulations of over a half a dozen other people, and by the time the excitement had died down a little and Seth had—already knowing it was truly in vain—asked that people keep the news somewhat contained, until they'd had the chance to share it a bit more, Jessica was practically shaking with happiness. Seth had gotten to his own feet to hug her for a moment, when the excitement passed, and to accept her genuine affection in return—and, also, to make sure that she was simply handling things well and was steady on her feet.
"Congratulations, Jess," Seth whispered to her, just before pressing a kiss to her forehead and gesturing to send her back to her seat to wait for the pie that Mara had rushed off to get.
"Congratulations, Seth," Jessica echoed back, offering her lips in an unusual display of public affection. Seth didn't turn down the quick peck, no matter who might be watching.
"Love you, Woman," he offered, taking his seat across from her. She reached her hand across the table—all that was needed for him to take it and squeeze it.
"I love you," she said.
"Still nervous?" He asked with a laugh.
"A little," she admitted. He could practically feel the tremor of nervous excitement in her hand, though it might very well be his own that was shaking.
"Me, too," he admitted with some amusement.
"But I'm happy, Seth," Jessica said. "I'm so…so very happy."
"A-yuh," he agreed. "And that's all that matters." He thanked Mara for the pie, and Jessica did, too, squeezing the woman's arm after Mara squeezed her shoulder and offered her one more heartfelt congratulations before practically skipping off to fill coffee cups and chew over this most exciting piece of Cabot Cove conversation.
Seth pushed one of the little plates of pie toward Jessica.
"Here, Jess," he teased. "Feed our child—before you take her off gallivanting all over town."
Jessica gave him a somewhat playful warning look out of the side of her eye, but she couldn't hold it. Her expression broke into a smile, and she picked up a fork.
And Seth drew in a deep breath around a bite of pie and ice cream. Jessica was sincerely happy and, more than anything else, he could feel that. He could sense it in the air around him. And, really, that made everything else simply right with the world—at least, it made everything simply right with Seth's world.