Chapter Text
“Well,” Marion sighed, setting her breakfast plate on the table a bit roughly.
What did I do now? Indy wondered, glancing at the clock on the wall. What could I have done at 8:15 on a Saturday morning? “Well?” He asked without looking up from the paper he was grading, deciding to take the bait. He heard her rummaging through the contents of the fridge, likely searching for the orange juice he’d finished a few minutes before she’d entered the kitchen.
“Well,” she shut the refrigerator door with another sigh, “you’re a father, Indy.”
He chuckled and glanced at the adoption papers lying on the table that stated that Wan Li, or as Indy and Marion called him, Short Round, was now legally their son. “Yeah, I’ve been a father for three days. I think he’s in the living room listening to The Burns and Allen Show,” he said casually, grinning and turning his attention back to the second of many papers he needed to grade before Monday.
After hearing nothing else for a few seconds, not even Marion’s footsteps, he stopped reading and furrowed his brow. That was it? No complaints or accusations? Is there something I missed? Indy replayed the interaction in his head a couple of times as he turned around to look at his wife.
She had her back against the refrigerator, her eyes closed and the base of her thumb pressing the arch of her eyebrow upwards, something she did when she was trying to clear her head. “You’re a father, Indy.” What is she—
A lightbulb switched on in his head as she opened her eyes and her tearful, blue eyes met his incredulous, hazel ones. She didn’t mean— He nearly knocked over his chair in bolting up from the table and gripping her arms. “Marion!” He yelled in surprise, evoking a small crooked smile from her. That was the reaction she’d been waiting for. “You’re pregnant?!” He asked just a little quieter, beginning to shake.
She nodded and softly replied, “I- I think so,” searching his eyes for the security that she was currently lacking. They hadn’t discussed having a baby, and she was entirely confident that neither of them had envisioned, or, if she were completely honest, wanted another addition to the family so soon after Short Round’s adoption had been made official.
Indy took both of her hands in his, gently rubbing the backs of hers with his thumbs. “Did the doctor tell you? How do you know?”
“I- said I think, Indy, it’s not- not for sure,” she stammered, only relaxing slightly under his touch.
He paused. “Marion,” his volume was significantly lower than before. “honey, what symptoms have you had?”
“I threw up this morning,” she told him simply, offering no further explanation or reasoning.
“Yeah, go on,” he prompted, now stroking her face with one hand and continuing to hold one of her hands in his other.
“Go on?”
“Well, there’s more, isn’t there?”
Marion furrowed her brow and stared at him.
Indy stopped his caresses. “You think you’re pregnant because you threw up once?!” He was growing irritated that she had nearly given him a heart attack over a claim she had practically no basis for. Sure, it was a possibility, but it had been for over a year now, and she hadn’t blamed anything like a headache or an upset stomach on that possibility before.
Marion ripped her hand out of his and shoved him away from her. “It’s more than that, I just know, Indy! You’re making me sound ridiculous!” She shouted, then whirled around and opened the refrigerator to find something to drink.
“Come on, maybe you just had too much to drink last night,” he offered, having had no intentions to belittle her. Marion crossed her arms and glared at him, and he realized how stupid of a comment that was since she could drink nearly anyone under the table. “Well, maybe not that,” he laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. He was still irritated, but he didn’t want Short Round’s first Saturday as their son to be riddled with tension and frustration.
She closed the refrigerator with a prolonged, exasperated sigh and said nothing more. Indy eyed her as she retrieved her favorite whiskey from a cabinet, and she proceeded to remove the top with the intention of drinking directly from the bottle. “You know,” Indy said gently, bracing himself for the explosion that would most certainly follow his next statement, “if you’re so sure about this, why don’t you hold off on the drinking for some time?”
Glass shattered. “NO MORE DRINKS?!?!”