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"I'm pregnant."
Emma gaped at her friend, and for once in Emma's life, found herself at a loss for words.
Though Emma's gaze dug into her, Harriet stared at anything but Emma, finding great interest in the wine glass placed in front of her by Emma minutes earlier. "I got it confirmed by Perry after work today."
After several moments of tension-filled silence, Emma gained enough composure to respond to the trembling woman across from her. "Is it-" She dropped her voice to a whisper as if someone could hear "-is it Robert's?"
Harriet frowned and tightened her grip on the drink, which remained untouched, in front of her. "Of course it is," She said with a shakier voice than usual, glancing back up at Emma before busying herself with the glass again. "It was after Jane's wedding. You know how terrible I am at managing my drinking, and he looked really good in his suit and tie." The tips of her ears became red at the memories. "I guess we just forgot," Harriet mumbled, either ashamed at her irresponsibility or embarrassed at her confession.
Emma took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, hoping Harriet would as well, "What do you want to do?"
"Tell him."
"Yes," Emma pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead to ward off a headache and continued, "but what about the..." Flicking her eyes at the table concealing Harriet's midriff, Emma silently prayed that Harriet understood her actions.
A minute passed before Harriet followed Emma's gaze and softly gasped. "I-I'm keeping it." She blushed. "I also think I'm quite happy."
Letting out a breath she wasn't sure she was holding, Emma reached over and removed the now-forbidden wine from Harriet's white grip. Taking her friend's clammy hand, Emma genuinely smiled. "I'm so, so happy for you."
Harriet broke out in a toothy grin at her approval and gripped Emma's hand tightly out of excitement. Giggles erupted from Harriet, which drove the remnants of tension from them. It only took so long until Emma released the sweaty grip between them to bury her laughter in her hands.
Before they could properly celebrate past mad laughter, Harriet faltered, her light brown eyes widening. "Oh, God!" She squeaked. "I haven't told Robert!"
"Yes, we covered that, Harriet."
Throwing her face in her hands, Harriet groaned. "And Mrs. Martin is going to hate us! Her only son knocking me up before putting a ring on my finger!" She glared at the ceiling with watery eyes and misplaced hatred. "She's going to think I'm a whore, Emma."
Before Emma could refute that claim with assurances of Robert's utter devotion to her, a door opened, closed, and George Knightley walked in.
He paused at the all-too-familiar sight of Emma comforting a distressed Harriet. His eyes met hers, and they shared a panicked look of disbelief. Furiously shaking her head and gesturing towards the door Knightley had just entered through, Emma tried to resolve the problem before it started, but it was too late.
Harriet burst into uncontrollable sobs at the intruder and hid her face behind her hands once more, at least muffling her cries.
Emma closed her eyes and contemplated the situation as best she could with the unpleasant background noise of her best friend. She had promised not to get involved with anyone's, especially not with Harriet's, love life, but that was over a year ago. Maybe, she could just set Harriet in a positive direction while also removing this disturbance from her home.
Opening her eyes and inhaling sharply, Emma put her plan in motion. "Okay! Harriet, why don't you go clean yourself up in the bathroom?" She then turned to Knightley, still confused and seemingly glued in place, "Now, you need to call Domino's and order a Hawaiian pizza, so I can pick it up. Got it?"
"But I don't like pineapple on pizza..."
Emma laughed and said, "When did I ever say it was for you?" She bounded off to take care of Harriet, who was still groaning occasionally in the background of their conversation.
Left even more confused, Knightley dug around his pockets, grumbling incoherently, for his phone to order the mysterious Hawaiian pizza along with one pepperoni for his personal use.
~
After being dumped in front of her apartment complex with dry eyes, and a pizza in her hands, Harriet trembled in front of her door. Channeling her inner Emma, Harriet gathered the remains of her confidence, opened the door, entered, and immediately ran into the chest of the man she had tried so hard to avoid.
Harriet managed to meet Robert's eyes as he talked, even though she couldn't focus on his words. She instead saw the freckles splashed across his nose and the small crookedness in his jaw. Maybe Martin Jr. would inherit that. She blushed at the thought. Instead of pretending she could hear him, she shoved the pizza box into his hands, murmured excuses about feeling sick, and wandered further into the apartment, effectively ignoring him.
Finding a spot on their worn-down couch, Harriet stared blankly at the wall, consumed by thoughts of unnamed baby Martin, while her boyfriend, presumably, found plates so they could consume the goodness that awaited them in the shape of a Hawaiian pizza.
Unnecessary tension surrounded them while they ate. While Harriet tried to keep herself off the verge of tears, Robert mentally went through all of their interactions throughout the week to locate the cause of his beloved's weird behavior.
"Thanks for, uh, the pizza," he said in an attempt to salvage the situation and start some kind of conversation.
Harriet nodded and nervously hummed her response. The room descended into silence once more.
'Practice, Harriet,' she thought to herself while she chewed the tasteless food, 'I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm preg-'
"I'm pregnant.'
Now, that was surprising to both Robert and Harriet. That was evident by Harriet clasping a hand over her mouth as if she could trap the words before they left her lips. Robert, on the other hand, gawked at Harriet.
"Like, with a baby?"
Still holding her mouth shut, Harriet nodded furiously, tears welling up in her eyes. A different kind of tension swirled around the room and settled in Harriet's stomach alongside the excitement leftover from her meeting with Emma as they simply stared at each other, hazel eyes meeting dark brown.
Unable to take the suffocating silence, Harriet abruptly stood up and whispered hoarsely, "I'm so sorry."
Robert's dark eyes followed her petite figure as it got up and paced around the room. "Wha-Why?" He seemed slightly offended at this, but her mind was going too fast to pay attention to any emotions other than her own.
"Your mom probably will hate me and think I'm a whore-" he frowned '-and, oh my God, how are you going to tell Elizabeth?"
Harriet stopped and looked at Robert with wide, teary eyes. She mumbled, "I just..." After a day of explaining herself, it seems Harriet had run out of words.
Robert had stood up, extending to his full height, and delicately grasped her wrists. Gently pulling her closer, he brought her small, shivering hands up to his lips and trailed kisses on her palms, fingers, and wrist. Robert was not a man of many words, but he spared them for her. He whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "I love you so much, Harriet Smith."
Harriet allowed herself a small smile, shiny with tears. "Does this mean you're okay with this?"
Accentuating his words with a kiss on the back of her hand, Robert continued, "I want this, and I want you, even if my mother thinks you're a whore." Silently, he considered the fact that the ring hidden under his socks might need to come out sooner than anticipated.
Laughing, Harriet teared up again, but this time with overwhelming happiness.