sunblind

While Charlie hadn't particularly calmed down in terms of collick, Annie had realized about a month after her daughter's birth that, if she didn't leave the house, she would slip into what Benji gently referred to as "a funk". That precipitated a trickle of activity at first—whatever her body would initially allow—but, over time, had since grown into somewhat of a routine that she and Benji had formulated and that worked well for them. She'd become something of a stay-at-home mom, her workload dropping dramatically, though mostly unintentionally—if Charlie was not physically against someone's body at any given time, nobody was getting anything done, which limited Annie in terms of actually sitting at a desk and drawing. She didn't mind it, for the most part—mornings with Benji and Connor before work and school, lunches with Candace, afternoon walks around the neighborhood with Charlie and Tabitha, and then dinner and evening fun, where Benji eagerly took over Charlie duty while Annie had time to devote solely to Connor. She had assumed a very domestic life, very quickly, which was somewhat surreal to her, but something she was pretty much settled into, and everyone was happy and content, and what more could she want?

"I'm mad at Benji, FYI," Annie muttered drolly, a cup of cider in one hand, the other rubbing soothingly across Charlie's back as she lay strapped over Annie's chest. Annie glanced around to make sure her husband wasn't weaving through the maze of trees at either of her or Tabitha's sides, within earshot. "I keep asking him what he wants for Christmas, and he keeps saying, like, 'I have everything I want,' or whatever, and I know—it's very sweet. And I am glad that he feels that way. But that sort of shit does not help me."

This Christmas felt different, charged with a muted anticipation Annie hadn't had in years past; Colin's passing last year had effectively rendered that Christmas a blur, and the prior year, Katie was particularly vulnerable, which made things a bit awkward for everyone, though they powered through both years for Connor's sake. This Christmas, their first with Charlie, and with Connor in the house full-time, she wanted to be memorable. And she wanted to make it more memorable by giving Benji the perfect gift.

Annie took a sip of her cider. "He is impossible to shop for, and he always gives the best gifts, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being second place. I got stuff from Santa for him, but I need, like, a wife gift."

It made sense, given the nature of her pregnancy and the nature of Charlie's birth, that the infant had turned out to be a considerably difficult baby. Plagued by colic that everyone prayed she'd outgrow, she didn't sleep for any extended periods of time, instead forcing Benji and Annie and Candace to take shifts holding her to their chests at all hours, with Benji proving to be the only one able to calm her down for a long enough time that Annie could take a nap.

Well, and, now it would seem, Tabitha.

Annie, eyes perpetually heavy with sleep, watched awestruck as little Charlotte laid peacefully within the confines of Tabitha's arms, her large, dark eyes blinking up at the woman. Annie took a sip of the latte Tabitha had so graciously brought her, caffeine turning out to be the thing she missed the most.

"I think she's in love with you," Annie murmured gently, joy at the very notion curling her lips upward. "She's never done that for anyone but Benji. I read that there's something in the timbre of his voice that can get babies to relax, but I think she just prefers him," she said, trying desperately to hide her disappointment in this fact. She'd admitted this belief to Benji, who assured her that was in no way the case, but she secretly suspected they both knew the truth. Her spirits perked, though, when she watched Tabitha's uneasy smile. "You're a natural. But if you're done, you can just tell me. Please don't feel obligated to hold my baby."

When Benji had first noticed that something was… off, with Annie, he’d found he was late to the dinner table when it came to all parties who were clued in to her worries and doubts. He wasn’t clueless by any stretch of the imagination — but Benji had chosen to take Annie’s words at face-value, even if that’d ended subsequently ended up with where they were now. It wasn’t that he was angry with Annie — he didn’t really think that was a possible feeling he could have towards her. No… He was hurt, disappointed, more than anything else. He’d wanted this all to go well, had wanted this to be a happy occasion in their lives. And even if she’d shared her worries, it still could have been just that. 

But… It hadn’t happened that way. Which was idealistic of Benji to think, but, there was a sense of loss in the idea that Annie had been lying to his face since the onset of her pregnancy. Benji obviously wanted his wife to feel she could share her innermost fears, but she hadn’t felt she could. Or, not that she couldn’t, but that she shouldn’t. A self-imposed wall. Something Benji had only been able to demolish after a blow-out of a fight. Now, all of the cards were out on the table. And a detente had meant silence, existing around one another as Benji struggled to bridge the gap, to find a resolution. 

So as Annie spoke, words meant for him, he looked to her, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips. A half-hearted amusement. “No, definitely not.” Benji agreed. “If Connor tells him, well at least we’re innocent if we get subpoenaed.” He gaze shifted to Connor, soft sigh parting from his lips. “He seems fine, though. He’s a resilient guy. I’m sure Kevin’s bit him a million times that he’s never mentioned to us before. So.” 

Benji cleared his throat, then allowing his gaze to drop down to his hands. He didn’t know what to say, what the right words were in such a circumstance. Connor was okay — that much was promised. He’d forget about the incident in a day or two, likely go back to playing friends with the kid who’d just bitten him. That was his way. He was unselfish, exuberant. Benji usually was, too. They shared that same innate nature, father and son. “Well, if you’re good here with him… I can get back to work.” Benji offered, hands sliding into the pockets of his shorts.

-

Annie was a coward. She always had been. She had never been one to face anything head on: every negative feeling she’d ever had in her life she worked precariously to bury, their fossils still dwelling inside her, waiting to be unearthed—a nerve waiting to be exposed. This is how she found at an early age that she was able to exist comfortably; the feeling would pass, eventually, and all would be well. Nothing was worth risking the comfort or happiness of someone else. Why would she actively seek to make things worse? Why would she damage the equilibrium of her and Benji’s life, beautiful and stable and happy? 

As was custom, she tried to follow this familiar suit by burying the burning shame within her over the past couple of weeks. She knew it was futile; every time she and Benji shared a common space, her heart sat heavy in her throat, and she struggled to communicate anything beyond a passing remark. She and Benji had stopped cooking together, carefully curated pregnancy meals shifting into takeout or leftovers eaten separately, busy schedules taking the blame for the softly-growing fissure. She’d taken to putting Connor to bed alone, more often than not falling asleep awkwardly curled next to him; her neck was suffering for it. On some level, this forced distance was for Benji: she’d wanted to give him space after her cruelty, time to lick his wounds. On the other, though, she knew it was self-preservation; she’d had a hard time facing him after her outburst, and being around him worsened the ache she’d gained from hurting him. 

Annie thought to make a comment about Kevin, her canine nemesis, but decided it wasn’t important; as Benji made a comment about leaving, her stomach sank. She looked over at him, watching as he gazed at Connor, the way his bright eyes softened while he watched his son play. The summer sun and her swollen body made her acutely aware of her own existence, and she felt pained by all of it. She inhaled slowly, trying to resettle herself. “Y-Yeah,” she finally murmured, sputtering somewhat. “If you’re—we’re good. If you have to get back.” She blinked, looking at him for a moment longer before she forced herself to look away for fear of lingering too long. “Actually, we should probably get going soon, too. I don’t know how much longer I can sustain being beached, if you know what I mean.” 

She looked at Benji and smiled, then, though it was awkward and sheepish. She felt embarrassed for the comment, for being obviously needy, for existing in general around him as things were. “...sorry. Long day.”

“We can’t tell my dad about this,” Annie murmured so that only Benji could hear. 

Her words broke a familiar silence that had befallen the two of them. They’d let the sounds of the playground fill the quiet, children’s laughter carrying through the air, competing with the birdsongs. Annie rubbed absentmindedly at the back of her neck. She could feel Benji turn to her, his eyes on her, but couldn’t work up the courage to exchange the gaze. 

Existing together had been more difficult than Annie cared to admit over the past few days, and she knew it to be her own fault. She had slowly felt herself growing something beyond anxious as spring had trickled into the swell of summer: she was terrified. The days kept ticking by, and she had found herself flailing, unable to fall into a sort of sweet comfort that she longed for as a first-time mom, that she saw advertised. After a late-night, near-blowout fight about the irresponsible use of cocoa butter, things had grown somewhat prickly around the house; Annie had been shrill and awful, and Benji had been, worst of all, right. They both knew these things to be true, and Annie had apologized for the way she behaved ten times over, but she hadn’t yet conceded to what Benji wanted: to give him the truth. She knew he was hurt more by what she hadn’t been saying this whole time than by what she had in a fit of anger and fragility.

It made sense, then, that the thing that would bring them together—as had been the case since their argument—was Connor. A call from the school, an incident of sharing gone wrong. The teacher had been very straightforward and kind about things, but neither Benji nor Annie were thrilled with the concept of Connor being hurt by another kid. She couldn’t begin to imagine how Katie had reacted when Benji told her. She hadn’t asked. The pair of them, as if on cue, raised their hands to wave at Connor as he waved excitedly at them from the top of the tower. 

“He’ll go straight to the board at that place. He won’t rest.” Annie glanced toward Benji, then, finally, almost warily. He looked tired. “That man has nothing but tenacity and spare time.”

I’m far from the first woman to get pregnant on accident. 

Tabitha pulled her lips between her teeth to keep from letting out a nervous laugh. If only Annie knew how true that was, she thought, looking down at her feet, moving one in front of the other. As if her whole experience was a private joke that only she knew. It was easier to think of it that way. She let out a slow exhale and then focused on what Annie was saying next, which was most certainly far more pertinent than getting caught up in a life decision Tabitha had made at twenty-two. “Has Benji’s mom been able to answer a lot of questions for you?” she asked. She’d always had Peggy to rely on, for better or for worse, but Tabitha imagined it was difficult to enter motherhood without a mother to use as a walking encyclopedia. “Do you feel like you can go to her with questions, at least?” 

Annie paused at the mention of Benji’s childhood, and while Tabitha wouldn’t ask for information when he couldn’t be there to volunteer it, it did spark curiosity. Had he had an unconventional upbringing? Did he live with the circus? Had he run away from a cult at a formative age? So many questions that she would likely never get an answer to – Tabitha made a strict point not to google or search any of her real-life colleagues and friends, which extended to their families. Still, Tabitha searched Annie’s face, for any sign that she might be unhappy, whether with her life or the topic of conversation. “Things will work out,” she asserted, echoing Annie’s statement. “You’ve got a husband who is over the moon about this,” Tabitha said, counting on her fingers, “A mother-in-law that you get along with who is happy to help you, a sister-in-law who probably has some hand-me-downs for you ….. well, and me, but I can’t do any background searches on a baby that hasn’t been born yet,” she ended sheepishly. “I’m here, though. For any and everything you want help with.”

“Okay, you’ll love a baby with a full set of teeth, but how about gills,” she teased gently. “Or those webbed feet that people have?” She let out a sigh. “Growing a human is so weird. You think they’ll look more like a Lim or a Hastings?” 

-

Abundantly nervous, Annie watched Tabitha’s expression carefully, noting the quick shifts. She furrowed her brow slightly, trying to interpret what it could mean. Tabitha wasn’t one to shy away from letting her true opinions known, and it had been exactly what she wanted when she went to her about this pregnancy in the first place—brutal honesty. She’d been so locked in anxiety that she needed the objective opinion of someone who could view things from all sides, someone who was reasonable. She couldn’t imagine why Tabitha might abstain from sharing how she felt now. She let the thought simmer for a minute, focusing on Tabitha’s question. “Uhm...yeah. Yeah, definitely. She’s—I’m so lucky, with her. I’m so lucky. She’s the best. I’m just sort of at this point where I’m like...I don’t even know what questions to ask." She swallowed. Finally, her courage to implore what held Tabitha’s tongue had persisted long enough for her to implore her friend for the truth. “You know, you can—you don’t have to bite your tongue, if that’s what you’re trying to do. You can tell me if you think this is, like, a terrible idea, or that I’m not prepared, or...” She stalled, knowing Tabitha well enough to know that she wouldn’t think that way of her. “Whatever. You can tell me.”

She smiled as Tabitha volunteered herself to help. At this point, Annie couldn’t even quantify what she needed. She’d been doing so much research that she was prepared for all that could come, but when it came to actually experiencing the things she’d read about, she couldn’t begin to know what support she might look for. She knew, however, that she could rely on Tabitha for that. She knew that Tabitha meant it when she offered to help. She knew, too, that she could ask for help from Tabitha without being haunted by the pervasive fear that Tabitha might love her less. 

“Oh, a little merbaby,” Annie cooed jokingly, her anxiety thawing slightly in the company of Tabitha. “We wouldn’t have to pay for swimming lessons, or worry about the pool.” Annie, of course, was already worrying about the pool. She considered Tabitha’s query, and how she hadn’t actually gone so far as to conceptualize the child she was so concerned about ruining. “I...I mean, they’ll be Asian, so everyone will probably say they look like me, even if they don’t,” she reasoned, deadpan.

Tabitha fell into step alongside Annie easily, despite the difference in stature. Her legs moved slightly faster to keep in time with Annie’s stride, but the exertion required was minimal. Tabitha listened attentively, as she always did; she considered the pauses in Annie’s speech, what she might not be saying, as much as what she actually did say, and bit down on her lip as her worries settled down around them. 

Her attention slipped, for the briefest of moments, as she recalled a time nearly fifteen years ago, when she’d been repeating nearly the same sentiments that Annie was pointing out now. The maelstrom of anxiety and tension and planning long-term for her life that had only barely begun, and that absolute certainty that she was not ready that propelled her to make a choice entirely different from Annie Lim’s. But it had been her choice, and one that she had not regretted for a single moment. Still, Tabitha wondered idly, would she have been like this? Nervous energy but tentative excitement? 

She wasn’t sure. 

Not that it mattered, she thought, shaking her head the slightest bit to clear those thoughts. What was done could not be changed. 

“I’m glad you have Benji in your corner,” she said quietly. “It’s good that he’s excited. I’m sure he’ll be really helpful, especially when you want snacks late at night. Does Connor know yet, or is he too young to get it?”

“I have no idea if this helps,” she replied after a thoughtful pause, “as I have also never done this.” Tabitha gestured to both of their abdomens. “But …. pretty much anyone who has kids had to be a beginner at some point, you know? So you’re in very good company with the whole first time parent thing.” She reached out and gave Annie’s arm a gently squeeze before she continued. “It’s definitely going to get a little uncomfortable, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s research. I’ll have all the stuff you can expect while expecting so you can feel a little more prepared, alright?” 

Another pause, and Tabitha spoke up again. “Can you imagine if your kid comes out with a full set of teeth? That can happen, you know.” 

-

“He’s already a lifesaver with the late night Taco Bell,” Annie mused with a soft smile, thinking fondly of her husband, of his unending enthusiasm and eagerness. No matter what insignificant thing pregnancy brought her way, Annie knew she could tell him, and he’d celebrate it, and embrace it, and cherish it. He’d been spoiling her since they’d found out, and she could only imagine what it would be like when the baby was actually here: how happy he’d be. But that all seemed so far away, now. In the haze of the present, all Annie could manage to do was hang on day by day. 

Annie thought on Tabitha’s words for a moment, letting a gentle silence befall them. She noticed Tabitha drifting, too, and wondered what had consumed the woman’s thoughts, hoping it wasn’t worry for her. “I think...I mean, you’re right. Obviously, you’re right. I...I don’t know how anyone does this and feels like it’s going to be okay. And I guess that’s not a novel concept. Benji's mom tells me stories sometimes about, like, her pregnancies, or Benji and Flo when they were little, and their dad, and it’s like...very clear that a lot of the process is just going along for the ride, y’know?” Annie stalled for a moment. “And obviously that’s beautiful and I will completely do that and things will be fine. And I do realize that, in some very grand abstract way. I’m far from the first woman to get pregnant on accident. I’m far from the first woman to get pregnant at a really, really inconvenient time, and we are definitely not the first people that don’t have, like, consistent parenting to look to as some sort of guide. ” Annie lingered on the thoguht for a moment, knowing Tabitha would understand enough of the story as it pertained to Annie’s upbringing, at least; Benji’s was his business to tell, and she knew Tabitha wouldn’t pry; that was the beauty of talking about this with her. She was a sounding board, a nonjudgmental mainstay in Annie’s life. Annie could do anything, say anything, and she wouldn’t fear that Tabitha might do what she expected everyone else to the second she became difficult: leave. And that was the crux of all of it, really— Annie could not afford to be hard to love. It had to be easy for everyone. It had to be easy for Benji. Because she still held the fear that he would come shuttering down like a house of cards collapsed, finally recognizing his grief with the dedication it would eventually demand. She swallowed, not knowing how to mention that insecurity to Tabitha out loud. Much quieter, she continued, “I know things will work out. I do.”

She nudged Tabitha’s elbow with her own, though her lips curled further upward, a genuine grin surfacing. “I did know that can happen, actually, because I’ve been staying up every night reading weird articles about everything related to infants.” Embarrassed to have confessed that out loud, Annie winced slightly, and then her face softened. “...what’s worse is that I know I will still love this baby even if they’re born with a full set of adult human teeth.” 

Benji hadn’t ever anticipated fatherhood — when it had happened, the opportunity had all been thrust upon him. And in that moment of panic, he’d nearly missed the very best thing that has ever happened to him: Connor. But there had to have been some fate to it all, that he was the one phone number that Katie had, that he’d answered, that, in a few days time, he’d come around and make the epic offer: it didn’t matter if the baby was biologically his. He’d be the father. Benji knew what it felt like not to be chosen by his own father, and to think that Katie’s child’s narrative would include Benji as a part of his over all parental rejection wasn’t something he could live with. 

Some might say that Benji was a natural to the act of parenthood, he had always been diligent in learning what he didn’t yet know, a good playmate but still an authority figure. And in a time in which he’d been relatively lost in life, Connor had given him something truly special to hold onto. Something bigger than himself. 

So as Benji watched Annie’s face, he saw glimmers of something he’d tucked back into the reserves of his mind — the fear that Katie had felt, and everything that had come with those emotions. But just as quickly as he was reading into her, they were drawing into one another, and his introspection was halted. “Does this mean we can start making lists of names? Because I’ve got, like, a lot of good ideas. In fact, I’ve got an entire thing on my notes app dedicated to names.” He rambled against her belly, words muffled as they remained attached to one another. “And we can get baby Sanuks to match us and Connor and it’s gonna be fucking sick.”

Benji weaseled his way out of Annie’s grasp, pulling back to properly look at her. “— Hey, um…” He squinted, debating whether to say anything at all. But in that moment of doubt, he hesitated. “… Never mind. I forgot what I was gonna say.”

-

Annie eyed Benji as he looked up at her, his face conveying his internal deliberation. Benji was not an adept liar by any stretch of the imagination, and Annie knew him well enough that it was instantly clear to her that, whatever he was thinking, he hadn't forgotten—he just didn’t want to ask it. She felt her stomach lurch at that consideration; she was well aware that, as time wore on, she was getting worse at concealing her anxiety because she was getting worse at controlling it. There was now the added fear that now Benji recognized that—saw that anxiety within her. She felt very small; unthinkingly, she stepped back just slightly enough so that she was no longer flush with Benji, as if the proximity of their bodies had betrayed her. She swallowed and cleared her throat, reaching up to dab her face with the back of her hand before planting both hands back on Benji’s shoulders. With a small smile, she nodded, “Well, you’ll know where to find me if you remember.” 

Her fingertips curled into his shoulder to give it another squeeze. “Oh, I cannot wait to see your names list,” she replied, softly bemused; of things she held unease about, a good name was very low on the list. It was entirely unsurprising to her that Benji had put such deliberation into it so as to curate a list, though; the notion warmed her, and she reached to cup his face in her hand. She was aware that this was also, in many ways, Benji’s first time for a lot of pregnancy-related things; she’d purposely made sure that he was involved in every step from the very beginning. “I’ll tell you what...let’s make a deal,” she began, shimmying a little in his hold as she tried to make her posture as straight as physically possible, as if that would convey the seriousness of this offer. “I obviously wanna hear the list in its entirety, but... I think you should pick. First name, at least. I call middle.”

“Okay, well, that’s why we do it from behind now. You’re just getting so fat it’s like, untoward.” Benji reasoned with an impish look to him. “Ultimately I will support you in your time of need, like how your pants need extra inches on the waist.” He couldn’t help himself from teasing her, the constant and happy banter between them had always been easy. “Oh, and like, by the by, or whatever, stop stealing all of my shirts and just give in to the maternity wear. I never have any clean anything!” He chastised jokingly. In truth, Benji didn’t mind at all. 

His jokes fell silent, however, as she startled to handle the envelope, feeling his own excitement simply bubble. The tears that pricked in his own eyes, knowing that Annie knew what he knew, and how heavy and incredible the news was. Because now it was all the more real, at the very tip of their fingers. He felt a few tears slip from his eyes as Annie gripped his shoulder, a quiet sniffle sounding as she leaned towards him, his arms instinctively moving to wrap around her, his cheek then wresting against her midsection. 

“I know, right? She’s got devil’s sacrament written all over her with that witch shit.” Benji laughed, sniffling again and shrugging his shoulder close to his face to wipe haphazard at tears. He could hear how quickly Annie’s heart was beating, the tone of her voice… And it struck him as… Different. But he couldn’t really place it, and couldn’t tell if he was reading too much into it. So he shook of the inkling, drawing back enough to look up at his bride. “Not to be like, too obvious or anything, but I was kind of hoping…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I just think it’d be sick to have a little you running around.”

-

“That woman will not be beating the hocus pocus allegations,” Annie joked half-heartedly, though she was still processing Benji’s words. 

A little you. 

“You didn’t tell me you were hoping,” she murmured, much quieter, then, and surprised. She didn’t know what the right thing to do or say or feel was. She wanted, just as Benji was, to feel excited at the prospect of her daughter. But she felt a tightness in her chest, and she tried diligently to keep her breathing as even as she could, remembering tricks she’d learned for Benji—in through your nose, out through your mouth. She tossed the envelope and its contents down next to Benji, then brought his face within in her hands, leaning down to plant a firm kiss upon the top of his head and brushing another few along his forehead. She wondered if her parents felt this way when they found out about her. If her mom—if anyone—had ever felt as loved by anyone as she did by Benji. 

She looked down at him, eyes still flooded with tears, and thought, then, of her childhood, a time she spent mostly with Addie, or with her mom, or alone, feeling as though she was just slightly out of step with the rest of the world, sensitive and boisterous and overlooked by her peers, desperate to connect, to be seen. She closed her eyes, leaning back into Benji, wrapping her arms around his neck, her cheek coming to rest on the top of his head as tears fell freely.

She wanted to be swept away by the joy of this: a daughter with the man she loved more than she’d ever loved anything, a beautiful home, a life full of all good things. She thought of Benji, every night before bed, his head buried under the duvet, resting on Annie’s belly, chattering away. She thought of Connor holding up any odd object to her middle and saying, ‘bigger or smaller?’. She thought of Candace holding her hair back in the morning, then braiding it for the day. Her dad, teaching her acupuncture points for nausea. Tabitha, bringing her salads the size of her head for lunch and making sure she took her vitamins. There would be so much beauty in this little girl’s world. There would be so much love. It would be okay. It would be okay. It would be okay.  

She just didn’t know how to believe that entirely, yet.

“We’re gonna have a daughter,” she whispered, in both terror and awe, nuzzling her cheek against Benji’s hair. 

Although Annie attempted to reassure Tabitha she wasn’t in distress, Tabitha gave her friend a long, searching look as she continued to state how she was now expecting a baby, choosing to bring a new life into the world. The idea that one could be enthusiastic and also scared about being pregnant was entirely understandable even to herself, and so she nodded slowly, the weight of Annie’s announcement sinking in. It was actually a relief, in a sense, to hear that Annie was scared, if only because it explained her emotional state. 

“I don’t blame you for being scared,” she replied, letting out a small sigh. “You’re literally growing something from scratch inside you. It’s like a parasite, taking up all your nutrients until it comes clawing and screaming out.” She trailed off and blushed as she realized she painted a rather grim portrait of pregnancy and motherhood. “But they can also be cute,” she added quickly. “After all of …. that.” 

She hadn’t meant for her own fears and baggage about pregnancy to seep in to a conversation about Annie’s current state. It wasn’t her intention to color Annie’s impression of having a baby so negatively. “What’s – what’s got you so scared?” Tabitha asked after a moment. Annie was all but Connor’s mother in practice, and she had, from what Tabitha could tell, the nurturing character that seemed present in all the best mothers. She couldn’t see why there was any reason she would be anything less than a stellar parent. 

Tabitha bit down on a thumbnail, and considered her own brief brush with pregnancy as a much younger woman – all of the fear and anxiety that had come with it. “Does Benji know yet?” 

-

Annie couldn’t help but guffaw at Tabitha’s rather disgusting portrait of childbirth, her friend’s typical realism bringing a sort of brevity to the situation that felt necessary. She sniffled, then, rubbing her nose, embarrassed to have made a scene in public—despite their complete solitude. She hadn’t intended to be so...forthright about all of it. She had seen so many videos of friends revealing their pregnancies in adorable and clever ways, and she wanted to be at a point where she could do that. But reaching out to Tabitha, though she wasn’t eager to admit it to even herself, had been something of a call for help. 

Annie squared her shoulders and tucked her hands into her pockets, heaving a deep, steadying breath, and nodded in the direction of the ambling path, a tacit let’s go; Tabitha wordlessly fell by Annie’s side, her small frame shoulder to shoulder with Annie’s. “We took the tests together,” she said, a faint smile playing at her lips at the idea of it, the pair of them huddled together on the bathroom floor, waiting for the timer on Benji’s phone to go off. “He’s so...he’s so happy. He’s so excited. I’ve never seen him this excited before. And I am, too. I am. Just...”

She cast her gaze outward, letting her eyes fall on the variety of foliage, spending too much time focusing on their names. “I don’t know what I’m doing, you know? I mean, I have Connor, but he’s not...he’s not mine. I didn’t have him. I didn’t—I love him like he’s my son, because he is my son, but he’s not...that’s Katie’s baby, you know?” Annie hadn’t spoken this way about Connor to anyone before, hadn’t verbally recognized what she held to be true: while she and Connor shared an indescribably deep bond, she’d never really be what Katie was to him. It was much like her relationship with Candace; Benji’s mom was, in every way, her mom. But she wasn’t...her mom. Candace would be the first person to acknowledge this. “I’ve never delivered a child. I’ve never spent a sleepless night with a colicky baby. I don’t—my body’s never done this, and I don’t know what it’s going to be like, and I know what to expect, but there’s, like, a million extra variables that could go wrong.” Softer, then, she turned to look at Tabitha. “There’s a million things I could do wrong.”

Benji watched as Annie rose, his gaze drifting to her stomach, the protruding bump that had become the center of their world. His smile softened, looking up at the woman who knew his heart better than anyone else, relaxing between the pressure of her hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna get you a shirt that says caution, wide left turns or something. Like those tracker trailers have.” Benji joked, toothy grin showing as his free palm flattened against her growing belly. While he and Katie had been very close during her pregnancy with Connor, this was different. It was different to be bringing a baby into the world with someone you loved, truly loved, and for this baby to be a product of that love. 

“You’d be just about the meanest wife ever.” Benji joked, looking up at her with utter fondness. As her palm reached out for the envelop, he dutifully passed it off to her, watching his wife carefully as she uncovered the information he was trying his level best to keep under wraps. “Okay but like, hypothetically, what if we just raise the baby as a little gremlin, and then it doesn’t even matter if I know something, because ultimately, this little baby can do whatever it wants, right? So, you know, no pressure, if you don’t want to know, or if you do, or don’t, or do, y’know. It’s all good here, babe. Super, super chill about this information. Super cool about it.” Benji nodded several times over as he rambled, anxious excitement seeping into his town as he waited for her to read the letter.

-

Annie took the envelope from Benji’s hand casually, intent on remaining as calm as possible, though her heart thudded louder the longer she held it unopened in her grasp. She scrunched her nose in dismay at Benji’s t-shirt offer as she fished the paper out. “It’s not the turns you have to be concerned about, it’s all the clearance I’m starting to need in the front,” she corrected, forcing herself to remain disaffected. She unfolded the paper, scanning it over quickly, and continued, “This morning Connor complained he couldn’t get close enough when I hugged him while he was on the ground, so now he has to be picked up.” Annie glanced up at Benji then, a wide grin playing at the edges of her lips. The love she held for Connor had started to change shape since she’d found out she was pregnant, somehow growing even fiercer, and the fact that he was genuinely so excited about it was no small relief. 

She glanced back down, scanning the paper quickly, focusing on the most pertinent part while Benji’s voice seemed to blur.

A girl. 

Annie felt as if she might float away. 

She curled her fingertips around Benji’s shoulder, giving it a few furtive squeezes as her eyes lingered on the paper. Her body seemed to lean inward, closer to his. They were going to have a daughter.

“I cannot believe your mom was right,” she whispered, finally looking up to see Benji through pooling tears, his sparkling smile and soft eyes waiting to see what she’d say, waiting to see her be happy. And she was. She was. She smiled at him, and it felt real, but her chest was burning. She tried to take a deep breath. When that didn’t work, she took whatever air in that she could. “We can--we should s-still raise them as a gremlin, though. Let them decide. I’m pro-gremlin.”

CLOSED START FOR: @annelim​ LOCATION: benji and annie’s home, bayview

Benji had always been a responsible head of household — he’d never struggled to handle his affairs, particularly when it’d come to the mail. Having grown up in a home where final notices on bills had been commonplace, he was particularly prudent about taking care of business, so to speak.

So when mail arrived from Annie’s OB/GYN, Benji didn’t think anything of opening the letter, assuming, naturally, it was the final total from her last visit. Instead, and much to his dismay, he’d opened the envelop that housed the best kept secret of the Hastings household — the sex of their baby. 

He’d stared at it for awhile, stunned by the revelation, and ultimately, racked with guilt for obtaining information they’d been supposed to learn together. Some little silly party, or something as simple as handing the envelope over to his mother and letting her inform them of the news. Now, Benji had a secret he simply couldn’t keep to himself. 

Tucking the envelop into the back pocket of his jeans, Benji’s bare feet padded softly against the floor as he left the kitchen counter and followed the sound of music playing to where his wife was perched, chugging along on whatever project she’d been trying to get out of the way. 

“Hey.” He smiled warmly, leaning over to press a kiss against the top of Annie’s head. He settled on the edge of the couch beside Annie’s desk, which had found it’s temporary home in the living room while he finished up the pool house. “So, I made a little, um… Oopsie daisy.” Benji finally pulled the opened letter from his back pocket. “I thought it was a bill, but, uh —” Benji squinted at the paper in between his fingers, then looked to Annie. “I can totally hold out and pretend I don’t know, and let you be surprised, or, whatever. Or, um, you can put me out of my misery and we can just both know.”

-

As Annie’s belly grew, so, too, did her anxiety. Now firmly approaching the halfway point of her pregnancy, things felt significantly more tangible; a couple of weeks ago, she’d awoken in the middle of the night to tiny kicks. She’d promptly woken Benji, and, after some time spent marveling, softly cried herself back to sleep. It was complicated, this feeling she found herself wading through. And the idea that she had to wade through anything—that this couldn’t all be seamless, that she couldn’t just be happy, like Benji and Candace and Connor and her dad. She wondered, sometimes, what her dad might say if she told him the truth of the matter: that she didn’t know what she was doing, and she didn’t know if she ever would. And what kind of person did that make her? Lately, she found herself longing, more than normal, to talk to her mom. 

Working, in whatever perverse way, had become respite for her. She could focus all of her energy on creating a product, and see her labor come to fruition, and know she’d done it right, and well, and successfully. She’d picked up more projects under the guise of wanting to get some income before the baby came, but in actuality, she just liked the safety work offered, the routine. Benji had become part of that routine, cutting back hours at the store after Colin to be around more for Candace and Connor, and the pair of them spent most of their days alone, together, existing in one another’s orbits. Annie liked this time, these quiet moments together, him bringing her tea or her asking his opinion on a color scheme. Her heart picked up slightly as she heard him come padding toward her, and when he leaned down to kiss her, she inhaled steadily, taking in his scent. 

She peered over the rim of her glasses as he pulled out an envelope, and, at his blustered explanation, Annie’s eyes went wide, her mouth opening and closing promptly. She smiled, then, bemused, though an odd rush of nervousness flooded her. Finding out the gender was more or less one of the last Big Things to face, and her asking to put it off had been self-serving. She reached up to take her glasses off, setting them and her tablet down. “Jesus, how mean would it be if I just made you live with it?” She joked, coming to stand. She shuffled from behind her desk, padding over to stand before where Benji sat perched, and let one hand rest on his shoulder, extending the other in front of her into the space between them; a tacit offer to assume the responsibility, to take the weight of knowing off of him alone. Her stomach felt as if it sat firmly at her feet as she gazed down at Benji, bright eyes wide and hopeful. “Let’s see it, Hastings.”

It had been a hard winter for Ivy, but the arrival of spring had served as a necessary reminder — she’d come out the other side victorious. She’d found a new direction, a new career, and that had been worth the effort and stress of the past several months. Still, Ivy knew she’d had to pull a minor disappearing act with many of her friends in town, with every spare moment ( the ones that hadn’t been claimed by Gabe, at least, ) going into job hunting. It was an added boon to her very good news that she now had the ability to take the time to actually share everything in person. If anyone deserved an in-person update, it was Annie, not least of all because talking to her after Thanksgiving had given Ivy the clarity to pursue this change. That months-ago talk might’ve merely been the first step, but it was one she couldn’t have taken by herself — and likely not with anyone else as that initial sounding board, either.

Ivy came straight from work to meet with Annie, her jeans and blazer not all that different from anything she’d worn while working at the station. She wouldn’t give her news away before she had a chance to say something, not by her appearance, at least. The rooftop setting Mediterra offered was certainly a scenic one, and Ivy wove between the tables to find her friend, her smile widening as they exchanged greetings, her arms tightening around Annie for a moment before releasing her. “It’s good to see yours, too,” she said as she slid into the seat opposite. “I should probably take responsibility for the way too long thing, I’ve been so busy the past few months …” It didn’t really mater, though, who was responsible for the gap, now that they were seeing each other again. “We should get drinks going, at least, and I can catch you up on everything.”

-

Annie smiled jovially, coming to sit across from Ivy. “Yes! I thought about ordering for you, but they have so many fun cocktails on their drink menu, I didn’t even know where to start,” Annie admitted. She looked around for the server, locking eyes with him and giving a small nod and a smile to let him know he was needed. Turning back to Ivy, then, she widened her eyes. “I am so excited to be caught up. Trust me, we’re both responsible for this one. With Benji’s dad, and everything...” Annie drifted off, her smile faltering slightly. Ivy in her infinite kindness had been gracious enough to send over some meals in the wake of Colin’s passing, and while Annie had sent her friend a little thank you note, she couldn’t adequately express how meaningful that gesture was to her through words. “The Hastings household ran on those Uber Eats gift cards you sent for like a week, by the way, so thank you,” Annie stressed, smiling again, though softer, paler now. She was relieved with the server came to take Ivy’s drink order, giving her a moment to shift her focus on to something else.

Annie perked up a bit when she thought, then, of all the things Ivy was likely up to in the time they’d been apart. She was excited with the prospect of being back in the loop, and she shimmied a bit in her seat so she could rest her forearms against the table.  “So,” she began with a waggle of her eyebrows, clearly fishing. “You don’t have to tell me the big news right away, obviously. Just fill me in what’s been happening...you know. Overall. How’s Gabe? How’s life?”

Until Benji had met Annie, he’d always just sort of assumed Connor would be his one and only child. And that was sort of the point, right? He hadn’t met the person he fit with, the person he wanted to be with, so he’d always kept things casual and brief. But with Annie, everything just seemed to… Fit. And the irresponsibility that had lead to this pregnancy just sort of felt… Right. He worried, as ever, that his world was eating up Annie’s — that this pregnancy, and everything else, was just another thing to pile onto her plate. But Benji wanted to be optimistic, and take Annie at face value. 

And to Benji, she seemed just as ecstatic. 

“Oh, come on. Of course he’s excited. He just doesn’t know how to express the average spectrum of human emotion.” Benji smiled down at Annie, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. “All the excitement that my mom shows is like, literally what he’s got going on in the inside. I swear.” Ted Lim was a character, but Benji knew he was excited about this pregnancy. “He thinks the world of you, babe. C’mon.” Benji’s brow scrunched, looking down on his wife with a bit of concern. “You’re his sweet cheese. His rotten soldier, if you will.” Benji stooped in, pressing a kiss against his wife’s forehead.

“Uh, yeah, I remember. I was pumping pedialyte between takes. It was probably the most impressive feat of physical fitness that has ever been attempted by humankind. So.” Benji flashed a cheeky grin, his hands sliding back to wrap around Annie’s waist, unabashed as they copped a little feel. “So, again, for the record, I think it’s worth acknowledging that it’s actually more impressive that we didn’t get pregnant before now. I’m kinda proud of us. The restraint was like, pretty tight. We did good, if you think about it. We deserve a medal, or a proclamation, or something.”

-

Annie felt instantly foolish for having mentioned her lack of confidence in Ted’s enthusiasm; of course, logically, he would be thrilled. She knew Benji was right, and she knew that her insecurity was not borne of reason but of the pervasive fear that had been plaguing her and seemingly no one else: what if she wasn’t good at this? She leaned her head forward a bit and closed her eyes, pressing into Benji’s kiss, and took a deep breath. “I know. I know I am all those things. I know,” she reassured him, her voice tinged wth amusement. 

Her amusement increased tenfold at Benji’s recollection, and she inched forward so that their bodies were flush, a warmth blossoming in her at his touch, deft and knowing. “It actually is a little impressive, yeah,” she admitted, her lips curling upward in an abashed grin as she nodded, thinking fondly of their all-too-frequent romps, how quickly their relationship had turned into something physical after the initial restraint. She let her hands roam up Benji’s back, fingertips curling around the curvature of his shoulder blades, and gave a few slow, absentminded scratches. “I think the good news here, though, really, is that we can’t get more pregnant,” she reasoned, scrunching her nose. “But we can certainly...keep in practice at this point.” 

Letting her eyes focus on Benji’s for a moment as the flicker of realization turned to that of wanting, she smiled a small, knowing smile, releasing him from her hold almost entirely but for a latching of their hands. “Your mom and Connor don’t get home for a bit,” she began. “And I think I might need help with the bath. I just—you always get it at the perfect temperature.” Before Benji could agree with her appraisal, or even acquiesce to the invitation out loud, she found him moving ahead of her, and she released a peal of laughter as the pair hurried off toward their bathroom, locking the bedroom door behind them.