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“Well, it’s not like anyone is going to be popping any champagne bottles for this one,” Mel stood in the bathroom with her arms crossed staring down at the test on the counter, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Oh, c’mon, what are you talking about? I’m happy, Mel. Are you happy?” Frank wrapped his arms around her, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek again and again, like he was going to eat her.
Mel fought the urge to squirm away, the pressure of his embrace making her sore, swollen chest ache. That was why she took the test in the first place. She sighed, letting out a little puff of air, her cheeks hot.
She sort of felt like she was going to cry, which made her feel even more embarrassed.
“Sweetheart,” Frank said mournfully, looking down at her with concern and feeling absolutely crestfallen when he saw her trembling lower lip, “baby, oh my god,”
“We have so many kids!” She cried, burying her face in his chest, “This is an irresponsible amount of kids! An embarrassing amount! People will think we’re in some kind of— um, religious cult!”
“Mel, Jesus," He held her, rubbing her back dutifully, although his choice of interjection made her cry even harder, “we’re doctors. No one will think that.”
“That makes it even worse!” She said thickly, pulling back for a breath and revealing her red, snotty face, “We know what we’re supposed to do and we don’t do it!”
“Well, you always say that you want me to—”
“I know! I know,” she let out a long breath, trying not to let her mind wander to the exact instance he was likely referring to, her shoulders sagging, leaning against him, “it takes two…”
“Hey,” Frank bent down, hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes as if he was trying to see inside of her, “are you okay? Really, Mel. It’s always your choice. We can do whatever you want to do. If four is too many—”
“Six on weekends,” she noted clinically.
“… Six on weekends. I’m just saying—”
“I know. That’s not, um… it’s not that I’m not happy. I’m just trying to wrap my head around it, is all. And of course I knew this was a… more than likely possibility,” she wiped her eyes, exhaling a long, shaky breath.
“You know,” she said after a moment, her voice low, “there was a long time where my family was only getting smaller. And it got so small that… that I was sad every day. And I thought that it would be like that forever. So, I really am happy, Frank.”
To his intense relief, she smiled then. A sweet, watery smile that made his heart feel like it was stuck in his throat. He kissed her on the cheek, the nose, the forehead, the lips, over and over again.
Suddenly, her hand was on his chest, stopping him, “…but you are getting a vasectomy now. Okay?”
“Got it.”