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Chelsea O’Hara groaned as she lifted another crate of medicine onto the counter. She had been aching for days, and was barely managing to survive work every day.
“You seem tired, Chels,” Vera Rakotomalala said, replenishing the glove compartment with blue plastic gloves. “Are you okay?”
“I feel like a truck ran me over,” the medic groaned, taking a seat. “How long until I get maternity leave?”
Vera was usually the calm one among the three medics. She was happy-go-lucky and relaxed in the best possible way, and often kept the mood up around the treatment room. But the medic simply dropped everything once Chelsea uttered those words.
“What--” She went to Chelsea, placing a hand on her stomach. “You can’t be! You’re younger than me!”
“I also happen to be a little more mature than you are,” Chelsea retorted, but beamed as if she had just won the lottery. “But yes. There’s going to be a little one running around Kirkby soon.”
Robert O’Hara walked in, having heard the news. Of course he had known before, but he grinned as if hearing it for the first time.
“I have a name idea,” he whispered, calling Chelsea’s attention. “Chelbert. It’s perfect.”
“You are never naming any baby of mine Chelbert,” Chelsea insisted, but with a warm smile on her face. She tossed her black hair, tied back by a brightly-patterned bandana. “Boy or girl.”
“Alright…Rosea, maybe?”
“I am not having a niece named Rosea!” Vera considered herself Chelsea’s sister, and said this quite firmly. “What about ‘Vera’?”
“Definitely not Jim,” Chelsea joked, and the other two groaned while Jim squawked in protest.
“But on your previous question.” Robert presented a hot water bottle, which Chelsea had figured out eased the pains just that small bit. “We would have gotten leave if you’d told Klopp already,”
“Go tell him yourself,” she retorted, instantly regretting how it’d come out. “I mean…are you sure we should?”
“He’s literally our boss,” Jim remarked, and for once he was using his amoeba of a brain. “Why not? You certainly can’t be working when you’re almost ready to have the baby.”
“Babe.” Robert pulled up a chair and sat next to his wife. “Klopp doesn’t mind us getting maternity leave whatsoever. He literally read our vows for us during our wedding.”
“He refused to hold our rings, Robert.” Chelsea sighed in relief as she placed the hot water bottle on her stomach.
“That’s because he was afraid he'd drop them.” Vera absentmindedly toyed with her ponytail. “Klopp won’t snap at you if you tell him you and Robert are having a baby. By Jove, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was excited. He’d probably celebrate.”
“I think he’d leave that to us.” Robert laughed, stroking Chelsea’s own curls. “But no, babe, he’s right. Let’s tell him, shall we?”
“Of course,” Chelsea agreed. “But let’s make it…unique.”
*
Jochim Klopp had the highlights of the match on, but that was the last thing he was focused on. Currently, he was wondering how he had managed to burn water.
“You have got to be kidding me,” the tactician grumbled, tossing yet another pot in the sink. “This is exactly why I leave the cooking to Mona--”
Ding, dong!
He groaned, hastily turning off the stove. Earlier, the German had received an anonymous note saying that two people were coming. He wasn’t sure if letting “anonymous dinner guests” inside was a good idea, but relaxed upon seeing they were the O’Haras.
“Chelsea? Robert?” Klopp internally facepalmed upon smelling burning seafood from inside the house, and tried to distract them with a joke. “Don’t tell me you’ve come demanding a higher salary.”
“What’s that smell?” Robert wondered, stepping closer to the door. “Is something on fire?”
“Hahaha…don’t worry, nothing to see here.” Klopp almost pulled the couple through the door, taking the long way to the living room. “I’ll be right back.”
“Is it just me, or is the boss acting weird?” Chelsea pointed out once Klopp was out of the room.
“It’s not just you,” Robert assured her, as Klopp came back into the room with a bunch of very brown lumps on a plate.
“Um…anyone in the mood for strongly toasted shrimp?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes, while Robert smiled knowingly at the manager. “It’s not going to be the worst of your problems.”
“No, they’re actually awful,” Klopp admitted. “I mean, I simply put them in the pot with some water and they burnt.”
“Who burns shrimp while boiling them?” Robert pointed out. “Maybe you need a cookbook.”
“Usually, I’m good.” Klopp’s attention turned to Chelsea. “The problem is, I don’t cook well when I feel that people are hiding something from me.”
Chelsea turned to Robert, both thinking: busted.
Slowly, Chelsea handed over the envelope. Klopp opened it to reveal a card.
“A card?” Klopp held it up. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Read it already!” Chelsea yelled, blushing once the sentence was out. She hadn’t meant to shout.
Klopp opened it up, reading the message. “ Belated birthday wishes. From the newest member of the team.” He closed the card, apparently confused. “ Ibra sent you to come here with this?”
Robert facepalmed, while Chelsea just shook her head vigorously. “No. Think again, and more intensively this time.”
“ Belated…from the newest future member of the team.” That’s when it hit him. “Kerry?! She already joined us!”
“You idiot!” Robert yelled, and he very much meant to. “You Bundes- idiot, Chelsea’s PREGNANT!”
For a while, silence reverberated through every molecule of the air.
“You’re…you’re not kidding?” Klopp slowly set down the card, long forgotten. “Chelsea?”
“Well, it took you long enough,” Chelsea remarked. “But yes, it’s true.”
“Another kid running around the place.” Klopp shook his head in amusement. “Rami is going to be thrilled.”
“And you?” Robert didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but he was nervous that he had revealed the news the wrong way and time. Chelsea sensed that, squeezing Robert’s hand.
“Well…surprised. And a little ashamed that I didn’t realize it earlier.” The German reached out and shook both of their hands. “Congratulations. Here’s hoping that your baby doesn’t look like Jim.”
“That’s actually one of the best wishes we’ve heard,” Robert retorted. “Jim hoped the baby looked like him. I swear Scum never saw a mirror in his life.”
“Do the other boys and girls know?”
Chelsea good-naturedly rolled her eyes at Klopp calling her one of “the girls”. “Vera and Jim know. We were going to announce it to the others tomorrow.”
“We wanted you to know first, because…” Robert trailed off. “You’re literally the boss of this whole place. My dad was killed in action, and…you’re the father figure of the whole place. It only felt right.”
Chelsea nodded her agreement. “Agreed.”
For a while, Klopp was silent, and the couple feared they had said the wrong thing. But if you were a Liverpudlian, almost nothing you said was wrong with Klopp.
“Come here, you two.” And Klopp pulled them into a bear hug. “A baby, I can’t believe it.”
*
Chelsea and Robert announced the news through the club group chat. Alisson had almost squished them to death when he heard the news, Henderson hadn’t even tried to hide his smile, and the fullbacks almost exploded, arguing who would be the baby’s “favorite uncle”.
“One baby has sent them all into chaos, right Elsie?” Robert whispered, dropping a kiss onto her cheek.
Chelsea nodded, cupping her flat stomach. “We had nothing to worry about.”