Chapter Text
It’s a crisp, bright October evening. The leaves are just beginning to turn, and the city is softly reflected in the Seine. It would have been a perfect night to put off her paperwork and walk along the river, but Kala Dandekar has just received some unsettling news, and wants to go straight home. She was sure it was a simple case of stomach flu. She was sure she had just gained a little weight due to their flat’s proximity to her favorite ice cream place.
Her phone buzzes.
What do you want for dinner?
She sighs softly and texts him back. Anything is okay.
You alright?
She knew he would be able to sense her anxiety, but she’s certainly not breaking this news in a text, so she writes: Just fine. You’re cooking?
Trying to.
She smiles and begins to reassure herself. It was bound to happen. No one is perfect. You can’t be careful all the time.
She remembers the night it happened. Yes, it’s true, she wore his favorite skirt, and yes, she had a bit too much wine, and yes, perhaps she was a bit too impatient in the back of the movie theater and no, she didn’t stop him when he put his hand up her skirt, and true, it was her idea to go into one of the bathrooms together, and yes, she forgot to take her birth control for a few days, but at the time it seemed harmless, and really, how was she to know? Does she really have such terrible luck? One time and this is what I get?! She buries her face in her hands, heart pounding, unsure how to properly convey how terrified she is while still being sensitive to the fact that this is something Wolfgang has always wanted, though never pressured her for.
If it had to happen, an accident was certainly the best way. He wouldn’t feel guilty, and she could honestly say she tried to avoid it. And yet, she isn’t sure what to say.
I’m pregnant! Where’s the nearest window to throw myself out of?
Probably not that.
She sighs again when she sees her hands are instinctively on her stomach. Stop it Kala, she scolds herself as she turns up their street, you can’t already care.
She slows her pace, giving herself 10 minutes to reflect before she reaches home. She plays over the last few weeks, and in retrospect, is shocked how obvious it all was.
It began in September. She remembers waking up one night, grumbling and spooning a pillow. Wolfgang had asked if she was okay and she explained she was sick. She spent much of the night throwing up, and it was only in the morning that she was able to get to her feet, take a shower, and keep down a bit of toast. She insisted it was stomach flu, and he agreed, so he brought her some medicine and she managed to go to work.
When she woke up several days later with the same nausea, Wolfgang was less convinced about the flu, but couldn’t think of anything else it might be. He suggested she was working too hard, which was true, but so was he, and besides, what could she do?
Then, after two more occurrences like this, they began to suspect something in their flat -- mold? They spent a weekend scouring the place for any sign of this, to no avail.
It was around this time that she noticed she no longer fit in most of her bras and that some of her pants were tight. Am I getting chubby? she had asked. You have to be honest. In retrospect, asking her husband this while standing in front of him in a tiny nightgown was probably not wise, because he assured her that he didn’t care whether she was chubby or not by making love to her so thoroughly she forgot what she initially asked him. Similarly, when he squeezed her ass while they were making coffee last week and remarked that she was popping out of her shirt, she thought he was flirting, not informing her that her breasts were literally uncontained. It was only when a coworker timidly offered her a cardigan that she realized there was a real issue.
It was also around then that she started to desperately, lustfully crave peanut butter, which she ordinarily dislikes, and began to buy jelly beans by the pound. She passed this off as a simple evolution of taste.
Then, after another bout of nausea, they considered the idea that she was ill. This conversation lasted five minutes before they both shelved it, put on an album, danced in the living room, and aggressively repressed the idea that something might be actually wrong.
But after this, Wolfgang insisted she see a doctor, which brought her to this afternoon, when she walked confidently into the small family practice, sure that she would be diagnosed with something minor, curable, and obvious. The doctor, a lovely Jewish woman that reminded her of Amanita’s mother, immediately suspected she was pregnant. She laughed it off, daring the doctor to give her a blood test. Me? Pregnant? As if! When she walked out of the doors of the doctor’s office twenty minutes later, she was shocked, unsteady and on the verge of tears.
And now she’s here, walking up the street where she and Wolfgang bought their first flat, desperate for a solution. She knows it’s easy for most couples, but it has never felt easy to her. She doesn’t want to disappoint him, but she doesn’t want to pretend either. The pregnancy scares her the most, but she’s also terrified of the idea that her career might be compromised.
Though if she’s honest, she’s always loved watching Wolfgang interact with kids -- it’s something he’s surprisingly good at. And if she’s honest, she’s always liked children and the way they express themselves with such undisguised emotion. If the timing was right, she wouldn’t be entirely against having a family. She knows how happy it would make Wolfgang, though she worries his reasons are rather complicated and have something to do with redeeming his own childhood, which she doesn’t see as entirely healthy, but all the same, she knows he would be thrilled if she suddenly agreed to have children, and she doesn’t like to withhold anything that makes him happy -- so few things do. But she didn’t want to give in just to please him, and he didn’t want her to do that either, so they always agreed not to have children for a while.
But now the decision has been made for them. Kala glances down at her belly.
“Why did you have to happen, hmm?” she murmurs softly. “You know you make me uncomfortable."
She’s quite sure the microscopic life inside of her does not know it makes her uncomfortable, but still, she feels compelled to inform it of the fact.
She palms over her stomach for a moment, then forces her hands to her sides, angry with herself for this display of affection, frustrated that she has so little control over her emotions. She knows there’s no exit. Whatever it is, whoever it is, it’s a part of her and a part of the man she loves more than anything. She’s confident she’ll love it to pieces too. She just wishes she had some choice in the matter.
“So there’s nothing I can do?” she goes on, putting her hands back on her belly. “I’m just stuck with you, is that right? Don’t you think that’s rather unfair?”
She’s nearly to their flat. She takes her keys out of her purse, breathing in deeply, and finally sets her mind and starts up the stairs. She just has to say it. Two words. How hard could it be to say two words?
She unlocks the door and finds Wolfgang in their softly-lit kitchen, having a beer and stirring a pot of pasta, listening to what he calls “light background music” and what Kala calls “headache-inducing techno.” He’s wearing the dark blue sweater that she loves. She smiles at the sight of him and he kisses her hello and turns the music down so they can talk.
“Smells good,” she says quietly.
He kisses her again. “Thanks. Figured you had a long day. It's not as good as what you make.” He pokes a fork into the pot and nudges her. “Here.”
Her eyes brighten as she takes a bit. She moans softly and tilts her head back. “Oh, I’m starving, I didn’t eat all day. This is delicious...”
He smiles. “You always tell me I can’t cook.”
Kala glances at him, smiling in response, and reaches for the fork so she can eat some more. He puts his arm around her waist in a half-hug and nudges her forehead with his nose.
“How was your day?”
They ask each other this every night, but tonight, she knows he’s really asking about her doctor’s appointment. The fear floods back and her stomach clenches. She buys time by taking another bite of pasta, and then she hesitates, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing unsurely at him.
“Maybe we should sit down,” she suggests softly.
His hand tightens on her waist, and he turns so he can pull her closer. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, starting to cry, which she only forgives herself for because her hormones are so frayed. She knows this gives the wrong impression and she can sense the fear in his touch.
“Kala,” he says urgently. “What happened, what did they--”
She shakes her head. “No, no, it’s nothing bad.”
He nods and runs his hands down her arms, letting her take her time. She brightens at the touch, finding courage in it, reassured that he loves her, that he’ll know what to say. She looks up at him once more and tangles their fingers together.
She breathes out heavily. “I’m pregnant.”
She feels his grip tighten on her fingers. He looks wordlessly at her for what feels like a very long time. His expression is characteristically difficult to read -- his brow is softly knitted, his eyes are bright, there’s the hint of a question on his lips. Then he lets out a breath, stunned.
“You’re pregnant?”
She nods nervously.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
She nods again, starting to smile. He shakes his head, at a loss for words, and kisses her gently. She grins against his lips, surprised how sure of herself she suddenly feels, and then he hugs her tightly. She breathes in at the contact and tucks her face against his chest, and he holds her closer, nuzzling into her hair, kissing her brow repeatedly and squeezing her with each kiss. It reminds her of the way he hugs her after returning from long trips, full of need and gratitude.
She pulls back slightly and glances at him. “So this is good news?”
He nods hard. “Yes, yeah.”
It’s the comfort she’s been wanting since getting the news, and she feels immediately calmer.
But still, she bursts out, “Oh my God, I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have no idea what to do or how to do it, I’m sure I’ll do everything wrong--”
He shakes his head. “No, no, you’re going to be fine, you’ll know what to do.”
She looks at him. “I’m so scared.”
“It’s okay, I’m scared too.”
“You’re scared too?” she asks quietly.
“Fuck yes,” he replies. “Are you kidding?”
She laughs again, wiping her eyes. “Well, at least we’re both scared.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “How did this happen?”
“Well,” says Kala, “when a man and a woman--”
He shoves her lightly and she smiles.
“Remember the boring movie last month?” she hints, turning slightly pink.
He grins. “Are you telling me our first child was conceived in a movie theater bathroom?”
“That’s going to be our secret,” she replies.
He laughs and shakes his head again. Then his expression softens. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, I’m sorry if...”
“No, no, don’t apologize,” she murmurs, touching her nose to his and squeezing his arms. “I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” he checks.
She nods, pressing closer.
“Just promise me I won’t have to quit my job,” she says quietly.
He shakes his head. “No, you won’t, I can stay home more often.”
“Aw,” says Kala happily, kissing his cheek. “And we know so many people who can babysit.” She sighs suddenly and looks down at herself. “I don’t want it to suffer developmentally, though, I’ve read infants need constant parental presence...” Then she frowns. “We’re going to have to come up with something better than it, aren’t we?”
“How long before we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Well, it depends,” says Kala. “It could be in as little as two weeks or in as many as ten... boys are easier to identify, so if it’s a boy, fairly soon.”
Wolfgang hums in thought. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean?” asks Kala.
“Boy or girl,” he says.
She starts to smile. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“Here,” he says, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, “I’ll get you some food...”
Kala eyes him as she sits down. “You aren’t allowed to treat me like I’m suddenly fragile.”
“I’m just getting you dinner, babe,” he says gently.
Kala nods cautiously and takes her shoes off. She groans.
“I’m going to have to stop wearing these,” she mumbles. “My poor feet.”
“You can get some of the sexy nurse shoes,” he suggests, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder and plating up some pasta.
Kala makes a face. “Those white ones? Did you mean sexy sarcastically?”
He sets the pasta down in front of her. “You would make them sexy.”
She laughs. “I doubt that.”
He sits down across from her with two beers and hands her one. Then he pauses. “Wait.” He takes the beer back. “Shit, I’m sorry. What do you want? Water?”
“Tea, it’s chilly,” she says, touching her hand to his waist as he gets up and adding, “thanks.”
He smiles at her and slides the kettle onto a burner and lights it. “Chai?”
She nods, yawning. She’s tired enough now that some of the anxiety has faded. She pulls her knees up to her chest for warmth and hums.
“Boy,” she says musingly.
She notices him smile. “Yeah, me too. You go first. Why?”
“I would be so worried about a girl,” she says through a big bite of pasta.
“My daughter?” he asks. “She’d kick anyone’s ass.”
Kala laughs. “Okay, she would.”
“I just think I’d do better with a boy,” he explains. Then he shrugs. “I’d like to think I would do a better job than my father did with me.”
“Oh,” sighs Kala. “That’s a low bar.”
Her matter-of-fact tone cracks him up. “Uh, true. But still.”
She reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You’ll be wonderful.”
He smiles tentatively and responds with a soft kiss. “Thanks.”
Kala nods. Then she spontaneously laughs and covers her face.
“I can’t believe this,” she says.
“We’re so stupid,” he agrees.
She continues to laugh. “ So stupid. This was so obvious!”
He frowns playfully. “Yeah, didn’t you...?”
“Miss two periods? Yes, I stubbornly ignored that because it’s happened before.”
He shakes his head. “And it didn’t occur to you that you might be pregnant?”
“Well, it did, but it seemed impossible my luck could be that terrible!” She glances at him, smirking softly. “I thought if I ever did get pregnant, it would clearly be your fault, but I was the one who had to have you. I can’t believe myself.”
He grins. “Yeah, you could have settled for some harmless fingering.”
“I could have, oh my goodness, what was I thinking?”
“If I remember correctly, you were thinking if you’re not inside of me in two seconds I’m going to die .”
She turns bright red, laughing loudly. “Oh, I said that, didn’t I? Oh my God.” Then she giggles. “In my defense, you were wearing those jeans I like...”
He nods, playing along. “It was the jeans.”
She nods in agreement. “And the skirt.”
He clicks his tongue on his teeth. “I love that skirt.”
She giggles again. “ See .”
He shakes his head and tucks her hair behind her ear. “We have to stop turning each other on.”
“We really do,” she says seriously. “Look what we’ve done.”
He chuckles and kisses her. Then he meets her eyes and skims his fingers along her waistline.
“Can I...?” he asks.
Her skin suddenly prickles with excitement. She looks at him, her smile softening, and nods gently. “There’s nothing there yet...”
He shrugs and presses his hand against her belly. He grins softly. “It’s funny.”
“What?” asks Kala.
“Well, you’re right, you feel like you always do, but...”
She smiles. “But it’s different.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
She glances down at his hand. “Maybe I can get used to this.”
He looks back at her. “Yeah?”
“No promises, but I think so.” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “Oh my. Our whole lives are going to change, aren’t they?”
He nods. “That’s okay.”
She takes a long drink of tea and nods too. “I just didn’t expect this...”
“No, me neither,” he agrees. Then he smiles. “I never expected to meet you, though. I never expected some of the best things in my life.”
She squeezes his hands. “That’s true.”
He kisses her one more time, and she leans back and rests her legs on his lap. He pats her calf affectionately and she smiles. They finish their few bites of food in comfortable silence, and then she collects their dishes and goes to the sink. He holds her from behind while she washes the dishes, and then she simply rests against him. He tangles his fingers with hers, which are warm and damp from the dishwater, and she nestles the top of her head against his chin. They look out their small kitchen window together, taking in the city.
After a few minutes, Kala glances up. “Bed?”
“Yeah,” he agrees fervently.
She laughs. “We’re tired just from talking about a baby. Imagine what it’s going to be like when it’s actually here...”
He laughs too and gives her a soft squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”
She yawns. “Yes, I guess we’ll have to.”
She shuts off the light over the stove and pulls him with her towards their room. She puts on her most comfortable sweats and Wolfgang smirks.
“So I see the days of you wearing those nightgowns are over...” he teases.
Kala throws a pillow at him, laughing. “Don't you think we've done enough damage?”
“Well, I can't get you pregnant again .” He frowns. “At least not yet.”
She sits up and fixes him with a stare. “Wolfgang. You’ve known that I’m pregnant for a single hour, and you’re already talking about baby number two.”
“Or three, Kala...this could be twins.”
She holds her hands up and closes her eyes. “Do not use the T word.”
He bites the tip of his tongue between his teeth, looking at her playfully. She laughs and beckons him closer with a twitch of her fingertips.
“C’mere you, I want to go to bed...”
He smiles and flops heavily on the bed next to her. Then he presses an exuberant kiss to her cheek, rolls over onto her, and effectively smothers her. She laughs wildly and pushes him away.
“Stop, you’ll pop me--”
He tucks his face into her neck and shakes his head. “Mm, no, I’m staying right here.”
She rolls her eyes and wraps her arms around him, then kisses his ear. “You’re hopeless.”
“I know,” he says.
She smiles and reaches for the light. “I love you though.”
“I love you too,” he agrees.