AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

"So—did you have anything in mind?" Michonne asked. "Carol…Carol…"

Carol was a little ashamed that she was daydreaming. She came back to the conversation after Michonne had called her name. She wasn't really sure how many times she'd called her name, but she could tell that it had been at least a couple because of the way that Michonne and her other friends were looking at her—expectantly, maybe a little annoyed, and maybe even a touch concerned.

Carol felt her face grow warm, and she rubbed her hand over her belly out of something like instinct.

"What? I'm sorry…"

"Baby brain," Michonne said, laughing to herself and shaking her head. "We're talking about you. About Sprout."

Carol straightened up. She'd been piddling with the menu for the coming week. She'd been scratching out possible specials and some ideas for a couple of new drinks and sandwiches to put into their ever-changing rotation.

"I guess I just—slipped away for a minute," Carol said. "What about Sprout?"

"Baby showers," Andrea said.

"Shower, right?" Alice asked. "Baby shower—you only do one, don't you?"

"You can do more," Michonne said. "Or—rather—several people can host a baby shower for you. Usually that's for when you have family in different places. You know—a shower here and a shower there. Or a work shower and a personal shower. It's for different people. You wouldn't invite the same people to multiple showers."

"There's no need for multiple showers," Carol said. "I don't have family besides you and…the people I know from work are here."

"I don't need the people from work at a shower," Andrea said. "I mean—no offense—but the other chairs in the salon change constantly and…I'm not attached to anyone there. We're cordial, but it's strictly work. My parents wouldn't come, and Amy certainly wouldn't."

"One shower, then," Alice said. "Easy, right?"

"One shower each," Michonne said. "Right? I mean—you each want your own shower, don't you? Or—you want us to just do a big joint shower one weekend for both of you?"

Carol and Andrea made eye contact. Andrea was Carol's best friend and, honestly, Carol wished she had more powers to read the woman's mind than she actually possessed. Carol didn't want to do anything to hurt Andrea's feelings. That would be the last thing she ever wanted to do.

But something tugged in her chest and her belly both.

It was silly, and foolish, and probably immature—but she wanted her baby shower. She wanted her moment of attention. She wanted her moment of Sprout's attention. She wanted her balloons and flowers—or whatever it was that people even had at baby showers, since she'd never had one before. She wanted her cake—Sprout's cake. She wanted to open her presents—it didn't even matter what they may be—and she wanted, for one day, to have all of the focus on her and her baby.

But she would never want to hurt her best friend's feelings, if Andrea wanted something different, so she simply hesitated a moment and rubbed her fingers over her belly.

"Isn't it—too early for a shower?" She asked, deciding to steer the conversation in some other direction.

"We won't have it right now," Michonne said. "But we need to start to plan it, Carol. We have to figure out what we'll do. How you want to celebrate. If there's a cake…who makes it? Who's invited and—what do your invitations look like? You'll need to order them and send them out. You'll need a registry so we know what you need."

"You know what I need," Carol said. "I don't have anything. And neither does Andrea. Neither of us have ever had a shower before."

"I have some things, I'm sure, that you may be able to use," Michonne said. "Things from when the girls were little, but you'll want most of the stuff to be new."

Carol looked over in Andrea's direction. Andrea was quiet—something not entirely common for her—and she was picking at her snack in a very evident way. She had the distinct look of someone deciding whether or not she needed to excuse herself to be sick. She might have even been a touch pale, really.

Carol thought about asking her if she was feeling OK and if she needed anything—a glass of ginger ale could go a long way in the battle of nausea.

Then, it struck Carol. Her own stomach felt none too settled at the moment because the choice was either admit that she really wanted her own shower, and risk seeming selfish and entitled, and maybe hurting her friend's feelings in the same swoop, or else accepting that she would share her shower with Andrea. Though the latter wasn't fatal, of course, and she would still enjoy the shared shower, it would mean, more than likely, forever giving up the chance to have her own shower. Sprout may very well not be the only child they had, after all, since they'd never really expected to have her and could always be surprised again, but they were likely not going to have more, and Carol thought that full-blown showers were usually reserved for only the first child.

What if Andrea was feeling the same way?

Carol picked up her pad and pen abruptly. Her movements drew the attention of everyone at the table, but they were willing to excuse her—baby brain and all—for just about any behavior.

"Bathroom," Carol said as an excuse, while she stood up. "Andrea—could you—come with me?"

"To the bathroom?" Andrea asked, furrowing her brow.

"I need to show you something in the kitchen," Carol said. "First—but—don't you need to go to the bathroom?"

As though power of suggestion had kicked in, Andrea looked thoughtful for about half a second, and then she pushed back her chair.

"You know," she said, "I do."

Carol started toward the kitchen with Andrea following her.

"You know—don't mind us," Alice called after them. "We'll still be here when you finish talking about us and all—totally incognito."

Carol laughed quietly, and she heard Andrea snort behind her.

"I know you weren't really bringing me in here to show me anything, and I really do have to pee now, so what's up?" Andrea asked. Carol grabbed her wrist and tugged her beyond the kitchen and back toward the little employee bathroom. Jacqui was slowly prepping for the next rush or semi-rush—taking her time, the way she liked, by starting early—and Carol didn't really want her to be part of this conversation, either.

In the little bathroom, Andrea eyed the toilet and Carol waved her on. She was unbothered by being in the bathroom while Andrea relieved herself, so she locked the door and leaned against it while Andrea took care of her business.

"I would rather shoot myself in the foot than hurt your feelings," Carol said, starting the whole conversation.

"Jesus," Andrea said. "I'd rather you didn't do either."

"I need you to be honest with me," Carol said.

"I pride myself on the fact that I'm hardly anything else," Andrea said. "I swear—I could piss a hundred times a day. I'm almost ready to go again as soon as I finish going. I swear that Peanut is just—sitting right on my bladder. Right on top of it. And she just—hops up and down and uses it like a punching bag."

Carol laughed to herself. She decided to use the bathroom as soon as Andrea moved to the sink.

"I need you to listen—and be honest about this shower," Carol said.

"What about it?" Andrea asked, slowly drying her hands with paper towels.

"I'm not going to be offended by whatever you want," Carol said. "But—what do you want?"

"You know…" Andrea said, "I was just thinking…maybe I'll throw my own shower. I don't want to put pressure on you and the rest of the Glory Gals and…it doesn't have to be a big thing. You know? And then…"

"You want your own shower," Carol said, interrupting Andrea.

Andrea looked a little nauseas, but the stirring in Carol's stomach was happier than it had been before. She moved to wash her hands. Andrea didn't answer her. She seemed to think that absolute silence was the best way to keep from saying something she might regret. She failed to realize or acknowledge that her silence said what she clearly didn't want to say.

"It's OK if you do," Carol said. "I totally understand."

Andrea let out a breath.

"You do?" She asked. She moved so that Carol could pull paper towels loose to dry her hands. As soon as her hands were dry, Carol grabbed at Andrea's hands and held them. She squeezed them. Andrea's eyes glittered—she'd clearly been close to crying as she dealt with the decision of whether or not to tell Carol the truth.

"I didn't have anything with Sophia," Carol said. "Nothing. There was…so little joy there. And now…with Sprout? I don't know if Daryl and I will ever do this again. I mean—I'd be thrilled if we could, but…"

"I know!" Andrea said quickly. "Holy shit…I know. I understand. I mean—this is probably it."

"Right! We might have another, but Sprout's the only that I know we're having right now and…I don't want to seem immature or petty, but…I want my shower."

Andrea squeezed Carol's hands. Tears really did well up in her eyes this time, and she dropped one of Carol's hands to reach for a paper towel that she used to dab at her eyes and wipe at her nose.

"Oh my God! I feel so silly!" She declared. "It's just—Michonne was talking earlier, and I already knew that she was thinking two, but…Alice has been thinking one the whole time. Like it would be so great, and so economical, and it would save everyone so much time because we'd just have the one shower and everyone could just…knock out the two birds with one stone…and…"

"And it's true!" Carol said. "It's true…and Alice is so right. One shower is quick and, if we're all planning, then it's so much easier. Just one and it's done. And they don't have to give up two weekends for baby showers…and it's so much more…I don't know. But I'm feeling so…horribly selfish."

"Oh—I know!" Andrea declared, still mopping at her eyes that were free-flowing tears at the moment. The paper towel was growing soggy, and she reached for another. "I feel so selfish, but I want my baby to have her own baby shower. I want my own baby shower. I feel so stupid. And so fucking spoiled! I want my baby girl to have her own party!"

Carol's chest ached and her throat felt scratchy. She reached for her own paper towel in time to sop up the tears that she could no more control than Andrea could.

"I want Sprout to have a shower," Carol said. "I want to be the center of attention. I want to be the most important mama in the room and…shit…I want to be the center of attention…and it's so selfish, and stupid, and immature."

A second later, Andrea laughed.

"Then that's what we'll do together," Andrea said. She blew her nose, disposed of her paper towel, and took another. "We'll be selfish, and stupid, and immature together. And I'll help make sure that Sprout has the best Sprout-centric baby shower that she possibly can."

Carol smiled; despite the fact her tears hadn't decided to be dry just yet.

"And I'll help with your shower," Carol said. "A whole day just to celebrate Peanut."

"Is it too much to ask them to plan for two?" Andrea asked sincerely.

Carol laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe it is," she said. "But if we'd planned it a year apart—there would have been two. The only reason we're even considering one is because we happened to get pregnant close together. Otherwise, it wouldn't even be a question. But—if it's too much? Then…we'll plan them ourselves. I'll help you plan yours, and you can help me plan mine. All they'll have to do is come, if they don't want to plan."

"Merle and I thought—elephants and mice," Andrea said. "Cute things. And little peanuts. You know—because elephants and peanuts…and I don't know, but mice just go with them, and Merle calls her his little mouse because she won't kick hard enough for him to feel her yet…so that's what we wanted. Is it dumb?"

"It's your baby," Carol said. "And your baby shower. And—I'll make the cake myself, if you want. Jacqui is great with artwork. We can do something adorable with peanuts, and elephants, and mice. Daryl and I thought—flowers for Sprout. Flowers, and rainbows, and maybe butterflies and little bumble bees—spring. You know? Something perfectly…spring. A new life. New beginnings."

"I'm so bad at art!" Andrea declared. "But I'll find someone who's good at it to make the cake. Maybe Jacqui or…if she doesn't want to do it, but of course she'll want to do it…"

"So, it's settled? We'll have two showers?"

Andrea nodded her head.

"Two showers," she said. "We can do them close together. A week or two apart, so it doesn't feel like they're doing showers forever, but two showers."

"And you promise I didn't hurt your feelings?" Carol asked.

"I was afraid to hurt yours," Andrea admitted.

Instead of promising each other that feelings weren't hurt with words that they were both pretty good at overthinking, Carol and Andrea simply grabbed each other up in a hard hug that said exactly what they needed to say. After a moment of hugging each other, somewhat rocking from side to side in the little employee bathroom, they left to join their friends—friends who were under no impression that they weren't in the bathroom solving problems of some sort—and to tell them that the Dixons would be having two showers, each of them perfect for each individual little girl they would be celebrating.