After Sierra moves in with her sister in Australia, things finally start to go her way while she waits for the birth of her daughter to begin.

This is the last of a three-part commission for  geckoguy123456789 of his wolf character, Sierra!

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Did you know you're not supposed to fly when you're pregnant?

Kinda wish somebody had told me that.

Everyone at the airport, from the woman at the baggage check to the TSA workers to the flight attendants and up, looked at me like I was trying to get on the plane while on fire. Even some of the other passengers stole glances back at me as we boarded. One older flight attendant made a joke about charging me for an extra carry-on. I laughed. It was embarrassing.

Getting everything set up was a piece of cake, honestly. I was afraid it would take too long and I'd be too far along to travel, but the Sydney office needed somebody there yesterday, so it only took a few weeks to get booked, packed, and on the plane. My pup was pretty much about to kick the door down to get out of me and I doubt the stress of travel was any help to that. But if I was going to give birth, I didn't want to do it alone. It was Maria or nobody.

I gave her and her husband, Michael (she called him Micky, but I thought it was stupid), a call about a week before I left. I had backup apartment plans if she wasn't thrilled at me barging in, but she sounded more excited than I was over the phone. Of course, neither of them know about the baby yet, so I'll just keep those apartment plans on hold, just in case.

Speaking of the baby, wow. I don't know what the big hurry is, but I think she hit one more big growth spurt before the big day. The fur across my bare stomach is stretched out thin enough you can actually see the skin underneath. And seeing that, you can see the stretch marks. I never thought I'd have to deal with that kind of thing but I guess nothing about this is going to go easily. Ugh. This weight is going to be hell to work off.

Boarding the plane was a bit of an ordeal. I spent my security deposit on some more maternity clothes, so I wasn't falling out of my shirts anymore. But I was almost too big to fit through the aisles of the plane, feeling as the front of my belly brushes against unrecognizable objects I could see, methodically apologizing for every one. I found my seat and felt brief horror that it was a middle, but the old fox woman sitting in the aisle seat glanced at my size and wordlessly switched with me. I sighed and smiled at her, my first bit of relief all day.

I settled into the seat, uncomfortably setting my legs as far out in front of me as they could go. It wasn't far enough. I instinctually dug underneath my butt for the seat belts to go ahead and buckle in, only to find out in the hardest and most embarrassing way that, well, they didn't fit me anymore. It was so stupid and so frustrating that I couldn't wrap the straps around my belly that I had to fight really, amazingly hard not to burst into hormonal tears. I kept trying to buckle them together, trying to suck in a little, against the pup's kicking protests, while sniffling and slobbering like a toddler. It wasn't until the world's sweetest flight attendant noticed me that I learned airplanes had seatbelt extenders and brought one over to me.

“This is the first time we've needed to use one of these for a new momma,” the raccoon woman said as she buckled me in while I helplessly sniffed.

“I'm sorry...” I mumbled.
“What you got to be sorry for?” the woman said, snapping the buckles together around. It was like trying to tie down a watermelon to the roof of a car. “You gonna be glad your baby took his time. My first boy was premature and I thank the good Lord every day he grew up alright. So let him grow big and strong.”

“Okay...” I sniffed, too grateful to correct her. A few tears had broken through my defenses and stained my face fur dark, but I really did feel better. At least I knew she was healthy. If it took a little extra time to make sure she came out strong, good. The flight attendant finished tightening the belt and showed me how to take it off and on if I needed to get up during the flight. Then she patted me on the shoulder and snuck in a belly rub before moving to the back of the plane.

I wiped my face as I sat back, the seatbelt straining against my stomach and the pup protesting inside. I was too embarrassed to talk to her with so many people around, so I simply shushed her quietly while making soothing rubs against where I felt her move. I felt a movement from the seat behind me and the clink of a seatbelt buckle as a shape stood beside my chair.

“Ma'am?” asked an older, bespectacled feline man. As he spoke, he crouched to meet me at eye level, but he was already pretty short so it wasn't a long distance. He extended his hand, which I shook while curiously raising an eyebrow. “My name is Dr. Wu. I'm an obstetrician.”
“Oh, hi,” I said, shaking his hand a little awkwardly too long. “I'm Sierra.”
“Nice to meet you, Sierra,” Dr. Wu said, softly. “Where are you flying to?”
“All the way,” I said, nodding. “From LaGuardia all the way into Sydney.”

“That's a long flight. I'm stopping over in Los Angeles for a conference.” Dr. Wu clasped his hands together and looked at me seriously through his big cat eyes. “I thought you should know that it can be risky to fly during a late-term pregnancy. Have you talked to your doctor about whether it's safe for you and the baby to travel?”

“I...um. No, I haven't. I was...just in such a hurry to put this trip together that I didn't think about it. I'm traveling for work, as well.”
“Do you know if your pregnancy is high-risk?”
“N-no, I was never told that.”
“That's good,” Dr. Wu said, patting my arm. “In all likelihood, you'll be fine, if sore from the long flight. But I'll be sitting right behind you from here to LA and I want you to let me know if you feel anything strange or uncomfortable. Can you do that, Sierra?”

“I- I can. I will. Thank you, Dr. Wu.” My heart was still pounding, but he seemed to know what he was doing. I was glad he was on the flight.
“Of course,” he smiled before gesturing to my belly itself. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” I said, smiling. “Half-husky.”
“May I?” Dr. Wu asked, holding up his hands. I nodded, pulling up my shirt. I wanted to unbuckle the seatbelt, but I wasn't entirely sure I could get it back on. The doctor laid both hands against me gently, exploring the stretched belly skin with experienced fingers and poking and prodding me in ways I didn't quite understand. He eventually located the pup's feet near the upper curve of my middle, where he was promptly kicked in the fingers.

“She's certainly energetic,” he said, smiling. “I'm guessing you're about 32 weeks along?”
“That's right,” I nodded. “...Though you wouldn't believe that just looking at me.”
“I'm afraid you're going to have a pretty big puppy on your hands, Sierra,” he said, smiling in sympathy. “Trust me, that's better than if she was too small. And you're not far enough to term to have many dangers from flying. Just try to relax and enjoy it like I will be. Okay?”

“I'll do my best,” I agreed. “Thank you again.” Patting my belly once more, he stood and clambered back into his seat. I sat back, pulling my shirt back down and sighed, closing my eyes and praying that I'd get some sleep. It would be a long flight, no matter what. I only hoped it wouldn't be an eventful one.

*************************************************************
A long, long, long, long, long plane ride later, I stood in front of Maria's adorable little townhouse in the suburbs of Sydney, Australia. I was strangely energetic and tired at the exact same time, having left New York in the morning, getting to LA in the evening, and then ending up in Sydney some time in the afternoon. I slept on the plane, but my brain and body had no idea what to make of the time difference. The baby was as cranky as I was, kicking and punching all over in impotent frustration.

It took a lot of head-scratching to find my way from the airport. New York taxis were usually too expensive for me and I didn't want to take the risk on an Australian one being worse. I decided to experiment with the bus. While I was happy to find Aussies were just as polite to pregnant ladies as Americans, it took me far longer than it should have to get even close to Maria's neighborhood. On a strange street corner with nothing but my bags and a bellyful of baby, I finally bit the bullet and hailed a cab to find the right address. No way in hell was I about to walk in the heat.

All my New York clothes were pretty much useless as soon as I stepped off the plane. What was the beginning of an angry winter in Manhattan was a bright, hot, dry summer-y day here. I had to take off my shawl and settle with my thin maternity blouse, still panting with my tongue fully out. By the time the cabbie found the house, he helped me drag my bags out of the back and even took a few minutes off the fare. I don't know a thing about this country, but I'm hopeful they're more polite than New Yorkers are. Of course, the average bank robber was usually more polite than the average New Yorker, but a step up is a step up.
I stood on the sidewalk, my bags at my paws, feeling even more lost now that I knew where to go. Reality started to sink in. I didn't really know why I hadn't told Maria about the pup. I figured I could just take care of it myself. That it was my business. But that was before I decided to keep her. I told myself Maria would understand, would help me, would at least give me a roof over my head until I give birth, but...would she? It's been six years since I'd seen my sister, and no matter how many phone calls we made, there was still a distance that needed to be mended. What right did I have placing my burden on her shoulders? Weighing her down with my decisions?
I shook my head, trying to throw the thoughts from my mind like a bad case of fleas. I stretched, uncomfortably kneading my lower back. If nothing else, maybe her generosity would extend to letting me sit down for a while. Trying to pick something up is incredibly embarrassing when you're not able to bend over. My clothes were in a rolling suitcase, but my duffel bag I had to grunt and groan and strain while I squatted down far enough to pick it up off the ground. By the end of this, I'd better have thighs cut like diamonds.

I walked, then waddled, then shuffled up the driveway and onto the front porch. I took a couple minutes to pant and catch my breath after climbing the dizzying height of two steps. I hesitated, my finger over the doorbell, before I finally huffed and jammed it in with my thumb. I heard a solid tone echo through the inside of the house, followed by a very familiar, high-pitched shriek of excitement. The sound of bare paws and clicking nails thudded closer to the door before it swung inward to reveal my sister Maria, wagging her tail like a maniac and hopping in place. Despite being older, she was a good foot and a half shorter than me and had darker, more copper-colored fur that you could only see properly in the sunlight. Aside from a tied pony tail and a few more gray hairs on her face than last time, she looked exactly like I had left her all those years ago.

“Sierraaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh my gooooooooood,” she said in a bizarre chimera of three different sentences. Her gaze lingered over my face for only a second before being drawn inevitably down to my bulging stomach. She spluttered her sentences into nonsense while making wild gestures to me. I tucked my tail between my legs and smiled, sheepishly. I noticed that hers hadn't fallen still yet. With footsteps like someone dragging a bag of potatoes over the wood floor, Maria's huge, muscular kangaroo husband Micky rounded the corner, holding a bottle marked 'XXXX' that I assumed was beer.
“G'Day!” he said, beaming as he leaned against the wall and drank from his bottle. He was intimidating the first few times I'd met him, especially the way he'd laugh if you couldn't understand his accent or slang, but he had a good heart. And I couldn't deny that my sister and I had similar tastes in men. He scanned my up and down with his eyes before casually gesturing with the mouth of his bottle.
“You're havin' a baby, are ya?” Micky said, nonchalantly. I gulped, nodding. He nodded in return. “Good on ya, then.” He drank more of his beer as he scratched his neck.

From somewhere upstairs and behind the both of them came a sound like someone throwing a bag of potatoes around. It wasn't until she was halfway down the steps that I saw Marnie hopping one by one down the stairs. She hit the landing and bounced over to the doorway instead of walking, which I had been told was a new habit of hers. I had never thought to picture what a wolf-kangaroo pup would look like until Maria got pregnant, but I couldn't deny that Marnie had to have been the most adorable possible result. She had a wolf face, muzzle, and arms, but with long kangaroo ears, legs, and paws. Her tail was thick, but not quite as long as a full-blooded roo's, and was covered in the same dark fur as her mother's.

“You're Auntie Sierra!” Marnie shouted, pointing her finger up at me like it was a command. I had to turn to my side so I could look down. The pup jumped at the sound of her high voice. It was a lot more discernible than her father's thicker accent.
“And you're Marnie,” I responded.
“I know that,” she said, rolling her eyes. She pointed at my bags, still dropped beside my paws. “Are those yours? Are you gonna stay here?”
“Well, um...” I glanced up at Maria and shrugged. “I...want to.”
“Wh- YES!” Maria shouted, stooping to pick up my duffel bag before I had to struggle down to get it myself. “Abso-lutely you're staying! Micky, get her other bag.”
“No, no, I got it. It's fine,” I protested, but he had already dutifully stepped past Maria and pulled the suitcase inside. I sighed with nothing to hold but my own stomach as I stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind me.
“What's that?” Marine asked, pointing at my middle.
“Marnie,” Maria began to scold from down the hall.
“It's fine, it's fine,” I assured her, waving her away. As I turned to Marnie, I hesitated, my jaw hanging slightly open. I had no idea what kind of concept she'd have about the birds and the bees, or if she even knew where babies came from. “Well...Uh...this...” I held the sides of my belly, feeling how sore the skin was stretched out. “...I'm going to have a baby, Marnie.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, not seeming the least bit interested. “Did you do...sex-u-al in-ter-course? That's how babies get made.”
I blushed, my tail back between my legs. I cleared my throat as Maria's head shot around the corner on the other end of the hall.
“She's...um...Marnie is...doing well in school.”
“Apparently,” I said, laughing nervously.
“I don't ever wanna have a baby,” Marnie said, hopping toward her mother in the kitchen. “Boys are gross!”
“You are not wrong, Marnie,” I said to myself, while patting my belly. The pup kicked from within. She agreed.

I followed Marnie through the door at the end of the hall, finding that a side door in the kitchen led to a comfortably furnished living room. It took enormous self control to not immediately run full-pelt to the leather sofa after sitting in an airplane for over 14 hours. Instead, I politely shuffled past everyone and kicked my paws up while sinking into the soft cushions, moaning “Oh my gooooooooooood....”

Maria pushed my legs in and sat on the sofa next to my knees. She extended a hand to my stomach, poked it gingerly like I was about to pop, then laid her palm against it.

“Can I...Is it okay?”
“Well, you're already doing it,” I said, crossing my legs. “It's your niece, after all.”
Maria's ears perked up. Her tail thwapped against the back of the couch wildly while she started to bounce again. I choose to believe it was a habit she picked up living around kangaroos for so long.
“A niece, a niece! It's a girl!” Maria squealed and circled her hands over my belly like it was a crystal ball. Then, in a wildly unexpected move, she pulled up my maternity shirt and started kissing my stomach over and over again like an overzealous grandma.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” I yelled wordlessly, kicking into the couch and squirming in protest. Even the pup started doing the same, which Maria loved even more. I was used to a little attention, but not like that.
Micky laughed from a chair across the living room. He tilted his head back and drained the rest of his beer down his throat before setting the empty bottle aside. “So who's the bloke, Sierra?”

“Yeah!....Oh no,” Maria turned between her husband and I, worry on her face. “You...came here alone.” I shrugged, remembering the abandonment I'd felt draped over my like cold, soaked wool, but not ready to show it yet.

“It was...Josh,” I said, despite never wanting to say his name again. I took a deep sigh, pulling my shirt back down, but not protesting as Maria laid her hand against me again, in a more gentle motion.
I talked for longer than I expected to, longer than I even thought I could. I blabbed non-stop about the early weeks without Josh or anyone to help me, how visible and awful I felt as I started to show, putting on the facade of a happy expectant mom at work so I wouldn't seem so alone and scared, and all the time not knowing how I could have a baby all by myself. About forty five minutes passed until I had nothing left to say, leaving my voice hoarse and my eyes wet.

“...What a fuckin mongrel,” Micky growled after a long silence.
“Michael,” Maria hissed, glancing around to see if Marnie was hanging around.
“That's what he is, innit? No kinda bloke leaves a baby in the belly of a girl without takin' responsibility. Not the kinda bloke I wanna know, that is.”
“I can take care of myself,” I responded. “I have been.”
“I'm sure you can, but that's not the point now, is it? Your Josh was right bastard, he was.”
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling, relaxing as Maria continued to massage me. “I'd rather just not think about him.”
“If only I could do that,” Micky grumbled, agitatedly tapping his huge, thick foot against the floor. He got up and thudded into the kitchen and out of sight, taking the empty bottle with him. “Fuckin bloody bastard he was,” he muttered to himself.

“Micky has a thing about honor,” Maria explained. “Or...integrity I guess would be the better word. Especially with kids. He's very protective.”
“He sounds like a good guy,” I said, before dropping to a quieter voice. “I didn't know what you saw in him for a while. I hope I can get to know him better.”

“He's an acquired taste,” Maria explained, in the same low sound. “But once you do, he'll become one of your favorites.” My stomach suddenly gurgled and lurched as the pup did an awkward somersault under her hand. She laughed. I groaned.

“Ugh, please don't talk about food yet,” I complained.
“We were all planning on going out somewhere when you got here. All four of us.” She leaned in and nuzzled up against my belly-button with her nose before squeaking in a baby-talk voice, “Or should I say five of us!?”

“I think you're getting a little more excited about this than I am,” I laughed, scratching my sister behind the ear affectionately. She sat up and giggled before her expression fell.
“...I think I am, aren't I?” she said, looking down. “This...You've been really brave, Sierra. This must be such a burden on the life you tried to build for yourself.” She shrugged. “I wouldn't be able to do that by myself. Not like you.”

“If there's one thing I don't feel, it's brave.” I wiped the tears from my fur and pointed to my eyes. “These aren't exactly uncommon.”
“You are, though. You never put yourself before the pup. Even before you decided to keep her, you wanted to make sure she had the best possible chance at life that she could. That's big of you. It took guts.”
I looked down at myself and drummed my fingers against my stomach idly.

“It wasn't anything brave, though, it just...wasn't fair. Somebody else shouldn't suffer from my mistakes.”
“Josh's mistakes,” Maria emphasized.
“True, but I still think I should have seen this coming. For all of his faults, Josh certainly had...'stamina.'”
Maria giggled again.
“Well, we know the blood wasn't going to his brain,”
I laughed, genuinely, for the first time in a while. I stretched my neck and groaned in satisfaction as my muscles started to finally loosen. Compared to the quiet serenity of Maria's home, it felt like I'd been living on a boat in a storm for almost a year.

“...I don't know what to do, Maria,” I said, quietly. “It...it felt like the right thing to do when I decided to keep her but...well, it still does, but I'm not sure anymore. Am I really the best thing for her? I thought about maybe being a mother one day, but...not now. Not in a month. I can't even take care of myself, I'm thousands of miles away from her real father, and I don't even have a place to live.”

“Yes you do,” Maria said, puzzled. She raised her hands over her head, gesturing to the room around her. I smiled, but shook my head.
“This is a place to stay, sure, but not, like...” I paused, trying to articulate what I thought would be obvious. “You've got your own family, you don't need me and another baby around.”
“You're not part of my family?” Maria asked. She laid a hand against my middle. “she's not part of my family?”
“You know what I mean.”

“But you don't know what I mean,” Maria said, with unexpected weight. “Do you really think I'm going to throw my pregnant sister onto the streets to fend for herself?”

“But...No, this is...I can't- I won't just crash here and bring a baby into your lives unexpectedly.”
“Then don't just crash here. Look at this place. This is a great house in a perfect neighborhood, but costs more than we can afford. Stay. Help with the mortgage. Have your baby. This is as much your home as it is mine.”

“Wh....guh....” I spluttered, sitting up as best I could. “But...You...Micky?”
“We thought about asking you about it when you got here,” Maria said. “But with this baby? I'm not going to let you stay anywhere else.”
I awkwardly shuffled to my side, where I pulled my legs around Maria and pushed myself to a sitting position. I stared at my sister like she was a mirage, like I'd wandered into some insane dream of things going well for myself. Despite my shock, my tail began to wag itself against the couch as joy began to seep in through the cracks.

“...Mom would never have done this,” was the first thing out of my mouth.
“I'm not mom,” she said before pulling me into a hug that left my arms pinned limply at my sides before I was able to wrench them out and return the favor. I held her for a long time, feeling defenses I had built years and years ago inside myself finally begin to melt away like ice as she held me, in kind. I didn't realize I was sobbing again until her shoulder fur was already as wet as my face. After we finally pulled away, I sniffed and rubbed my sore eyes before smiling.
“Thank you,” I muttered. Maria simply nodded before returning attention to my belly.

“What's her name?” she asked.
“Uh.” The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. “I have no idea.”
“Of course you don't,” Maria laughed. She poked right above the pup's foot, making her jump and start kicking against my squashed organs underneath my womb.
“Eugh,” I groaned, once she was finished. “Maybe she can just be 'The Karate Kid.'” she suddenly unleashed a new flurry of kicks, some of them visible from underneath my shirt. “Well I'm not calling you 'Baby' your whole life, am I? Maybe I could think about it if you stopped doing-” I winced as she kicked my ribs. “-if you stopped doing that all the time.”

“She should be able to recognize your voice by now,” Maria said.
“Well she'd better; I've been talking to her since before she even had ears.” I put my hands on the underside of my belly and jiggled it a little, just enough to get her riled up and start squirming again. Maria giggled to herself. “But...Yeah...names....I guess I've got about a month left to decide, right?”

“Looks like it to me.”
“Eh, I'll figure it out by then.”

*************************************************************
I didn't figure it out.

It's been about a month since I moved in. I got into Sydney on a Saturday, so I had to wait until the next Monday to go into the office. They got the go-ahead from the New York office to hire me as the replacement designer, alongside a handwritten recommendation letter from Caroline herself. I might ask for a copy of that so I can get it framed or something. After an on-boarding, showing me around the office, and some introductions, I was immediately put on maternity leave. I protested, but the supervisor told me they can handle themselves until I'm...well, 'fit to work' again.

So I've been pretty much lying around the house in exactly the way I didn't want to. I try to clean up and tidy as much as I can, but I'm not in much shape to be doing anything extensive. So I've been spending a lot of my time thinking of baby names for the pup. I've got some ideas, or at least I've been able to cut out the names I just totally hated, but it's hard. None of them really jump out as 'this is it. This is her. This is the name of my daughter.' I've tried pairing it up with our last name, but nothing has really stuck. It's driving me crazy.

Speaking of the little tadpole, she's pretty much run out of room by this point. No more sudden growth spurts, thank god, but the gradual ones left her too big for any more in-uterus acrobatics, which is totally fine with me. That's not to say I'm dancing on rainbows, myself. I'm pretty much the wolf version of a water balloon somebody left wrapped around the hose too long. Walking for more than an hour is agonizing on my back from the extra weight of...my...well...uh...'puppy food.' Ok, milk. I'm leaking milk. It's weird, it's uncomfortable, there's spots on my shirts, Maria's nursing bras don't fit me so I had to get some of my own, and it tastes weird, too....Yes, of course I tried it. Why wouldn't I? I guess I should be thankful. I read online that some canine moms get milk coming in from their other nipples, too, in some kind of vestigial reaction. Thankfully, it doesn't look like I'll have to worry about that embarrassment.

My belly has reached 'intimidating' levels. It's sort of changed shape as the pup began to aim downwards in the...birthing position that I so hesitate to think about. So it's less of a cute, round little baby bump and more like a fuzzy, swollen watermelon with a puppy inside. I can totally see my skin under my fur down there, which I wasn't able to do since I was eight, and neither my nor Maria's clothes fit all the way over it, so everyone else can see it, too. I'm halfway glad, though, because I've finally popped that outie bellybutton I've always heard about, and even if my shirts fit, my navel would be too sensitive to actually wear them. The Joys of Motherhood, huh?

I exaggerate. I'm probably the most comfortable I've been through the whole pregnancy. Maria's house is actually built for full, real-size people to live in and not the bizarre, tiny broomstick people New York apartments are built for. There's a sense of ease that I never imagined I'd been missing. I haven't been able to afford another ultrasound since the beginning of the third trimester, and even then it wasn't a very good one. But because of the Australian healthcare Maria and Micky have, she was able to get me one last check up, which even included some super high-tech 3D imaging stuff. So not only did I get to see her again, I got to see the pup's face. I got to watch her move on the screen and feel her doing it from inside. she was sucking her thumb, her eyes not even open yet. I don't even want to get into how much I cried, but I will say I needed eye drops by the time we got home. she's not even born yet, but seeing her face, seeing her still inside me as a baby and not like a little dot, or an abstract 'fetus' or something, just made it feel real in a way it hadn't before.

It made it all seem worth it.

One particular afternoon found me sprawled out on the couch like a fat, hairy football with legs, drawing on the sketchbook propped up against my stomach. I was trying to draw what she looked like from memory, or at least, the best interpretation from the imaging. One of the few things I thank Josh for was his looks. He was a dumb one, but very pretty. I hoped the pup would inherit...one of those traits.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Marnie bounce across a doorway wearing a very colorful towel around her neck like a scarf and swinging a foam sword. Her kangaroo legs were something else. Even if I wasn't pregnant, I doubt I could catch up to her in full-on bounce mode. And I did track in high school. So super-hero kangaroo-wolf-toddler had pretty much free reign of the downstairs while me and my cramped baby vegged out on the couch. I could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.

I scooted down the couch until I could lay with my head back against the armrest without pinching my ears. I scratched my navel and sighed. Sleeping on my back was too uncomfortable, especially with squished lung capacity, but the couch was too small to roll over on. I could always go up to the guestroom I was living in, but if that meant taking the stairs on my strained legs, I'd rather just stay on the couch.

“...Sandra.” I said, staring at the ceiling. “...Abigail. Mary....Gr...Grace. Hhm...Kelly? Keeeeeee....Kaaaaatie?...Samantha. No...No no no no.” I grumbled and rubbed sleep out of my eyes. Maybe it was just me being grumpy, but every name I could think of just seemed so...normal. I didn't think about my own daughter when I thought about 'Samantha.' I thought about an annoying girl scout or a woman at the grocery store. It didn't need to be anything particularly unique or anything; there's enough bullying in this world for kids named crap like 'Starchild' or 'Moonturtle' or whatever. Maria was a big fan of old Alfred Hitchcock movies, so that's probably where she got 'Marnie' from, along with wanting to keep with the M theme. Not an awful idea, but I just didn't feel strongly enough about anything to name my own child after it.

Speaking of the little girl, I heard and felt her rhythmic thudding against the floor before I actually saw her enter the room. She approached from my paws and stopped in front of my belly, where I was only able to see her long ears poking over the top. Leaning over to get a better look, I saw that she was staring at my stomach, one finger stuck in her mouth. Her playfulness had finally subsided a bit as she gazed with unflinching curiosity at me.

“What's up, TippyToes?” I said, in a nickname of my own creation. I was hoping it would catch on. It was cute. She wordlessly held out a finger and touched the side of my belly, quickly drawing it away like she had touched an electric fence. On second glance, she seemed more afraid than curious. I guess I was developing a new 'mom instinct,' because the little wrinkle of her brow, much in the same way my own daughter would likely look, completely broke my heart.

Setting aside my sketchbook, I reached down and took her little hand carefully in mine and gently placed it against the broad side of my stomach. After a moment, the pup twitched underneath, causing Marnie to gasp and hop back, withdrawing her hand.

“What was that?” she hissed, staring at me for support.
“Noooo, no no no no, sweeite, it's okay,” I said, beckoning her back in the most soothing voice I could muster. “It's just the baby, Marnie. It's a good thing. Come feel.” Inching closer, she cautiously raised her hand again to the same spot from before. As my unnamed daughter began to shift softly in my womb, Marnie felt the side of my stomach in something between wonder and confusion. She glanced to me with wide eyes.

“She's saying hi,” I said, smiling warmly. “That's your cousin in there.”
“When is she going to come out?” Marnie asked.
“Very...soon. Not very long now.” I said, telling myself as much as my niece. “She's almost ready.”
“...Are you gonna be okay?”
“Of course I will,” I said, patting Marnie affectionately behind one of her long ears. Of course, I had no more an idea of that than she did, but reassuring her that everything was fine made me feel like...everything would be fine.

“Why is she gonna come out soon?”
“Because she's finished growing,” I explained. “There's not enough room and she's big enough to live outside of me.”
“Then can you take her out now?”
“It's...well...It's better to let her decide when she's ready.”
Marnie fell quiet again, taking her other finger from her mouth to lay her second hand against me.

“...I want to see her,” she said.
“Me too,” I agreed. Marnie and I both jumped as the pup sharply kicked out and started to turn over. “She's awake,” I said, placing my own hand beside Marnie's.
“She was sleeping?”
“That's right. She needs it just like we do.”
“...How did she get in your tummy?”
“Oh...oh, um,” I stammered. She'd just asked the million dollar question. “Well...did- did they tell you in school where babies came from?”
Marnie looked at me and silently nodded. Obviously, I wasn't off the hook yet.

“Well...Okay...when...when a boy- when a man and a woman...love each other,” I explained, resisting the urge to add 'sometimes,' “and they want to have a baby...the...the daddy, he- uh- p-puts a seed inside of the mommy's...the mommy's womb, where the baby grows.”
I was mercifully interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell and a few knocks against the door. Marnie's ears perked up and she was already hopping off to the door before I knew what had happened. I sighed a relief as I pulled down my shirt. I wasn't ready to have that conversation with my own child, let alone my sister's.

From the other end of the hall, I could hear some faint conversation between Marnie's energetic pseudo-shouts and a deeper voice coming from somewhere beyond, with only a few spattering of words coming in from the static. After a moment, Marnie came back in the room, running for once, and braced herself against the coffee table to say “Uncle Larry is here!”

“Who is Uncle Larry?”
“Daddy's friend,” Marnie said. I nodded, recalling briefly conversation between Maria and Micky regarding his friend (or his 'mate', I guess) Larry, part time employee at the electronics store and full time football rival.”
“He needs to talk to you,” she continued to explain.
“Um,” I said, thinking about my bare, sore paws, my worn, borrowed maternity pants, the oversized t-shirt of Micky's I'd been given to wear, and of course my bloated stomach. “Does he have to?”
Marnie frowned before hopping back to the front door for a few seconds, then coming right back.

“He needs to talk to a grown-up.”
“But what does he- Oh screw it, whatever.” I turned over onto my side, most of my stomach protruding over the lip of the couch, before I could swing my legs over and push myself up into a sitting position. The vertigo took a minute to subside and I had to re-adjust my massively sore boobs, hoping and praying they hadn't leaked through the bra again. It was a whole new ordeal to get to my feet again, but once the pain in my knees faded away, I was able to shuffle over to the door, while calling out “Coming!” in the most pleasant voice I had.

What stood in the doorway was the most beautifully handsome bull terrier I'd ever seen in my life. He was about six feet tall, wearing a pair of tight jeans, a white tank top, and absolutely caked in muscle. He looked like he could rip a phone book in half, or at least would have trouble bringing his hands together past his biceps. The knees of his jeans were dirty and his tongue hung from his mouth while he wearily panted away the heat. Glancing at me, his eyes widened, inevitably glancing down my body, but thankfully lingering on my face. His face had a softness to it, especially his expressive eyes.

“Oh, hello,” he said, his voice deep but very soft, with only a slight accent. He scuffed the ground with his paw and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I, uh... I thought Micky would be here, so I didn't- Sorry, I've been workin' the yard, don't look so good.”

“That's okay,” I said, smiling. “I've been sitting inside all day and I don't look much better.”
“No, no, you look...er... fine. You're glowing, you are. Unless...unless you're not-”

“I am,” I said, interrupting his stuttering to hold out a hand. “I'm Sierra, Maria's sister.”
“O-Oh! Right. Well,” he stammered, grasping my hand with his dirt-covered palm and shaking it rigorously. “I didn't know she had a sister 'til last month when she wanted to get it all ready for your visit.” He let go, noticing the blades of grass and dirt scuffs he'd left on my arm fur. “Uhhh, oh...I...Uhm...”

“Don't worry about it,” I said, wiping my arm off against my belly and bracing it against my back. It had become a force of habit, but it really did help my posture, at least. “Larry, was it?”
“Y-Yeah, Larry, I'm an old friend of Micky's. Full name's Larson, but my mates call me Larry. I guess....I guess most everybody calls me Larry, anyway, not just my mates...” he looked away in thought for a moment before shaking his head and changing the subject. “So...So, who's the pop?” He gestured to my middle. “The father?”

“Oh, she doesn't have one,” I said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. I blinked, Larry looking confused, before adding, “No! I mean, yeah, she does have one but, haha, like, I didn't put her there myself did I?” I laughed way louder than I should have. Larry politely nodded and pretended to chuckle. “But...no, no, he left. I'm single...If, yknow. That's what you're asking.” Very subtle. If I could have punched myself in the face to stop my stupid mouth from flapping, I would.

“Oh...You...that's a shame,” Larry said, his ears drooping. “Cruel, really. Thing like that shouldn't happen to a nice gal like you. Right bastard, he is....I mean, I don't...I assume, but I don't know the fella, of course.”

“No no,” I said, nodding. “You pretty much hit the nail on the head there.” I shrugged. “At least he left me a cute baby.”
“I've no doubt she will be, lookin' at you,” Larry said, glancing up to meet eyes and smiling at me with a flash of confidence I didn't know he could muster. I'm amazed my knees didn't give in on the spot. Unfortunately, he couldn't maintain the moment for very long before he blushed and wagged his thin tail sheepishly. “Yknow...Just...Just an observation, of course...”

“I appreciate it,” I said, grinning warmly and wagging my own tail. I got a teasing thought in my head. “Yknow, I thought the father was a pretty good looking dog, himself,” I continued, raising my eyebrow in what I thought was a seductive way, “but after seeing some of the local men, I'm not so sure anymore.”

Larry blinked before making an awkward sound between a choke and a nervous laugh, tail thwapping loudly against the back of his pants as he blushed. I laughed, too. It was one thing for me to be able to successfully flirt, but doing it without someone gazing at my stomach was a nice change of pace. Larry regained his composure a bit and cleared his throat.

“Well...um, I do the gardening and yardwork for Micky and Maria at the first of the month, so they usually go about paying me, but...are they both out?”

“Yep. Their first date since Marnie was born.” I rubbed a hand around my stomach. “Not looking forward to that...”
“Well...yknow, you got time.”
“Not much,” I shrugged. “Believe me.”
“Well...um...anyway,” Larry rubbed the back of his neck again. “I guess I should leave 'em a receipt or something? Or would it be a bill? Anyway, I...I hate to trouble you in your condition, but would you mind getting me a bit of paper?”

“How about you come inside for it?” I said, pushing the door open and stepping aside a bit.
“N-no, thank you, I just-”
“Look, I can't even imagine how you people can stand this heat. I'd feel like crap if I didn't offer you a glass of water or something.” I beckoned once more and flashed another smile Larry returned. Eventually, he sighed and shuffled inside toward the kitchen, with me waddling behind him and very happy that he wasn't seeing me do that.

After a few awkward glasses of water, and even coaxing him into drinking some lemonade Maria had made, Larry finally started to loosen up and make actual conversation without stuttering. Despite his looks and physique, he was a naturally shy guy who wasn't sure what to do with all the attention his muscles and body usually got him. He absolutely loved nature and working outside, no matter what the weather was like. He apparently loved kids, too, evidenced by how well he got along with Marnie and how interested he was in my own baby. He had gentle hands, despite his strength.

Hours later, the sun had started to go down and orange light peeled through the blinds and bled down the wall. As it reached us, Larry confusedly checked his phone.

“Jesus, it's really...” he trailed off as he stood and carried both his and my glasses to the kitchen sink. He spun in place for a moment in confusion before finding a pad of paper and jotting down what I assume to be his bill for the gardening. After setting it on the kitchen table, he came back into the living room just as flustered as he'd been when he'd arrived.

“I-I'm sorry, so so sorry, but I had plans tonight and I need to- I didn't mean to stay so...” he sighed, taking a deep, measured breath and exhaling. He took my hand, in a bolder move than I thought he could even imagine. “I had a great time, Sierra. Unexpected. I left my number on the note in the kitchen, if you...if you wanted to...if you needed a babysitter for when your pup is born.”

“I...probably will, Larry,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I had a good time, too. I don't really know anybody here beyond Maria and Micky, yet.”
“Yeah...” he said, simply. He paused, as if he had another set of words on his tongue, but he swallowed them and instead smiled, gave a quick goodbye before striding off toward the front door. I heard it shut around the corner, but then shortly heard it open again as Larry stuck his head into view.

“There was still some mail, left,” he said, waving a handful of envelopes. “I'll just...you can...okay...” He set it down on an end-table near the wall before waving goodbye and nearly sprinting out the door.
I chuckled, sighing in the quiet. I heard a thud from upstairs as Marnie shouted something to one of her dolls as jumped off the bed. I missed working at the office, and part of me even missed New York, but there was a feeling of home that I had been missing even more than anything else. I felt an ease to my spirit that I hadn't known since I was young. I was finally somewhere that I wanted to stop and rest for a while, mentally and emotionally.

I groaned as I stood from the couch. Talking to Larry for so long had almost made me forget I was even pregnant. Once he was going, he had a very absorbing way of speaking that made it very easy to forget time. I had known how late it was getting, but, hell, what else was I going to do? I cradled my belly under one arm as I laboriously crossed the room to pick up the mail. There were a number of bills that I made a mental note to help with once I was working and being paid again, but there was a larger envelope addressed to Maria, but CC'd to me from the sonogram clinic. Puzzled, I tore open the side as evenly as I could with just a finger and pulled out a large, rectangular card.

I dropped the rest of the mail on the floor as I realized what I held. Maria, without me knowing, had ordered printed photographs of my pup's sonogram. Even through the grainy, clay-like imagery, I could still see what was unmistakeably her face, her hand just barely grazing against the edge of her chin. Her ears were flattened against her head, but I could still tell they'd be huge, just like a husky's. I wondered what color her fur would be, whether she'd take the red from my side or some of the pattern of Josh's side. I dropped my hands over my belly, pulling up my shirt to get a better look at where my gorgeous soon-to-be daughter was nestled.

“...Hope,” I said, running a hand through my fur and feeling her kick softly against me. “Your name is Hope.” It wasn't a suggestion or an idea. It was something more. I didn't name her, her name was already Hope and it had only taken me until now to see it. I kissed the palm of my hand and rubbed a small circle above my navel, feeling absolute and complete fullness in every part of me, even beyond the physical. I felt ripe, primed, ready to do what I needed to give Hope the start at life she deserved, accident or not. Her weight felt more real than it ever had before and I wanted to carry it in my arms instead of in my womb. I ran a finger up and down my swell, my skin taut and stretched, no more room left inside.

“I'm ready when you are,” I told her.

*************************************************************
“Yknow Larry's really into you, right?” Maria said a few days later, as we simultaneously washed dishes from a particularly big dinner.

“He knows I'm bursting at the seams pregnant with someone else's child, right?” I retorted. I was getting sleepy from the meal, but Hope was wide awake, hopping and dancing as much as she could in her cramped living space. Hope did this, Hope did that, Hope Hope Hope. Since giving her a name, everything she did felt a little more vivid, made me mores sensitive to her movement. She wasn't just 'the baby' anymore, she was Hope, my daughter.

“Would you believe me if I said he doesn't care?” Maria said, dropping a plate into the warm water.
“Not really. How do you know?”
“He's been talking non-stop about you to Micky. He's head over heels for you.”
I set a cup down and wiped my hands dry on my pants.
“...Really?”
“Do you like him?”
I shrugged.

“I don't know...Kind of. It's just...I don't know.” I rubbed the back of my head, getting my fur unexpectedly wet. “It was nice being treated like I was...yknow...attractive again. I've felt so gross and unapproachable for nine months. And...yeah, he's cute. He's...okay, he's really hot, but he seems kind of soft. Gentle. And I think maybe that's something I need right now, yknow?” Hope kicked into my ribs as I fell silent. I like to think it was for encouragement.

“...Okay. Super,” Maria said, badly hiding an excited smirk. “Because he wants to take you out this Friday.”
I snapped my head to my sister.
“What.”

“He was too shy to ask himself, so he wanted one of us to ask for him,” Maria said, giggling. “He's a little bit of a wallflower, but the nicest guy you'll ever meet once he opens up.”

“Yeah, but...” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I'm due in like a week and a half. I don't think...It's probably not safe for me to go out, is it? Hell, how do I know Hope won't decide to come early?”
“We're not in the Stone Age anymore, Sierra. You're not bedridden.” Maria glanced at my oversized middle and shook her head. “Though God only knows how you're still on your feet. I'm sure Hope won't ruin your fun.”

“But I don't have anything decent to wear, much less anything I can fit into.”
“You've still got that box of my maternity clothes, don't you?”
“Yeah, but your stuff isn't...”I trailed off, cutting off what would have been an accidental insult to my sister. Maria blew a raspberry and waved her hand dismissively.

“I didn't give a damn what I looked like my third trimester. You're the fashionista of the house.”

“Well, still. I don't...” I fell silent again, being struck by the brilliant, shining light of inspiration that only falls upon us once in a blue moon. My sketchbook. My alteration ideas. My entire Caroline Verduga maternity line proposal.

“Yes...” I mumbled. “Yes yes yes yes yes.” I dropped the remaining dishes in the sink and wiped my hands dry against my belly. I waddled out of the kitchen toward the stairs, calling behind me, “Get your keys, I need a ride into downtown!”

“Wait. What. No, hang on,” Maria called, walking after me. “Do what? What's happening?”
“I'm getting my purse,” I said, laboriously climbing the stairs as fast as I could manage. “Get on your phone and see if there are any fabric stores still open in town.”

“Sierra, it's 9:30. There's not going to be anything open. Please come back down.”
I stopped midway up the stairs, my mind still spinning like a tornado. My heart was racing, though that was probably from trying to carry Hope's weight up the steps as fast as I could.
“Then...then we can go by the office. See if they have anything I can use. I want to get started on this right away, we can't waste any time.”
“It's Tuesday, Sierra.”
“But...But...”

“Come on, Big Mama,” Maria teased as she approached to help me up the rest of the stairs. “Wearing you out isn't good for either you or Hope. You need rest.”

“But...No, I just want to...” I sighed, letting Maria hold my back as I lumbered up the stairs. Hope was riled up from the sudden activity and was pushing lumps out against my tight shirt. “...I just want to look good for the date.”

“I have no doubt that you will,” Maria said, comfortingly, as I huffed and puffed up the stairs in frustration.

*************************************************************
I felt more active Wednesday through Friday than I have my entire pregnancy. It was an extra hurdle to have to do everything around an excitable puppy filling up my middle, but it was great to get to work on real dressmaking again. It was like coming back home after a long, long vacation.

First thing Wednesday morning, Maria drove me back to the office where I explained my ideas to my boss. I told her I needed a sample dress I could alter into a proof of concept for my maternity line, while leaving out the detail that I'd be the one wearing it. Amazingly, she wanted to see what I had in mind, so she let me borrow a Nouvaeu Blanc line evening gown that would have looked gorgeous on anyone. After that, I coaxed Maria into swinging by a fabric store I'd found online and picking up some great stretchy material that still felt comfortable against the fur, along with a dressmaker mannequin, sewing supplies, and little odds and ends I might need. At the advice of the clerk, we went by a maternity boutique to get a belly attachment for the mannequin. I figured I'd just measure myself for fitting, but it'll be better to have for the future.

The next couple days were spent upstairs in my bedroom sewing, cutting, folding, sketching, modeling, measuring, screaming, and hormonally sobbing my dream pregnancy dress into reality. I needed to measure the width of my torso, only to find that the measuring tape I had wasn't big enough and had to elicit the help of Micky and his tool shed to get my belly measurements just right. The gown itself was rather sleek and simplistic, so in order to hide the obvious seams for baby bump room, I had to use some of the same, extra fabric to add stylistic folds to the shoulders as well as the torso, effectively transforming the style into something more flowing and loose. It took a lot of Google-ing, scouring old notes college on my laptop, and good old-fashioned bullshitting, but by the time Friday night rolled around, I finally had something.

On Saturday, I spent ten minutes stuffing myself into the dress, with Maria's help, only to feel like someone decided to dress a basketball up for Halloween. But the more I looked at my reflection in the mirror, the more...right it looked. I'd done my measurements right, I'd hidden obvious seams, nothing seemed stretched or pulled. And, for what it was worth, the pregnancy had done wonders for the sheen of my fur, which seemed to almost shine like polished copper in the right lighting. Even my stomach seemed elegant and maternal instead of the big, stretched, patchy gut I knew was underneath.

It seemed bizarre, going on a date in my condition. Looking for a new partner was always part of the plan, but in some nebulous future beyond the birth and beyond securing my dream job, not before. I feared the awkwardness of having to clarify that Larry and I weren't already together, that the baby wasn't his. That he might be humiliated as much as I would. The activity was giving me weird cramps that probably weren't making my any more attractive as I winced and braced my stomach every so often.

Hope kicked. It distracted me just enough to cut the string of thoughts before they spiraled into something painful. I smiled, tucking a hand beneath the fabric to feel my own body. Throughout the entire experience, Hope had felt as much a comrade and partner to me as a child. For better or worse, she was always there, growing and squirming and giving me a reason to keep going, to keep striving for something better. Maybe, in a way, this date wasn't in spite of Hope, but for her.

The pre-date alarm on my phone went off unexpectedly, snapping me out of my train of thought. I jumped at the sudden noise and shuffled out of the room as fast as I safely could. My gown passed the stress test of me rushing down the stairs in it, so I figured it would at least last the night. I brushed my hair and put a little fur coating up my arms to make them look sleek, then awkwardly sat on the couch and tapped my paws against the carpet, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

When it finally did, I groaned and hefted myself up, feeling far less attractive than Larry supposedly thought I was. I smoothed out the fabric as I crossed the distance, not too quick to seem desperate, but not too slow to seem disinterested. Opening the front door, I was greeted by a groomed and cleaned Larry, not a dirt stain in sight. He was dressed in a pair of slacks that looked fairly new and a faded, striped polo that looked fairly not. It was stretched over his wide shoulders with the sleeves constricting tight over his biceps. Despite a new haircut and clean fur, he looked even more muscular than he had last week.

His personality, of course, didn't quite match the image. As I came outside, Larry stared slack-jawed at me, totally still aside from his wagging tail. His eyes were wide in shock and awe. I blushed, pushing my hair back from over my face.

“Don't overdue it or I'll just think you're making fun of me,” I said with a small smile.
“I wasn't- You- I-” Larry stopped and cleared his throat loudly, before saying “You look amazing, Sierra.”
I turned away with a nervous schoolgirl's grin on my face.
“No I don't....I look like a pumpkin somebody lost under a bedsheet.”
Larry took a step closer, laying a gentle hand against my belly before pulling my gaze back toward his.

“You...are gorgeous,” he said, with clear certainty in his eyes that I couldn't help but believe. With his own smile, he gestured to the humble, white sedan parked on the curb. “And I want you to show that to the whole world.”

I was completely enchanted. I barely touched the ground on the way to his car and didn't even get embarrassed when he had to pull the passenger seat back farther for me to fit inside. As he got in beside me and helped me buckle my seatbelt, he smiled with a twinkle in his eye as he drove us off.

“So...where are we going?” I asked breathlessly.
“There's an Italian place in town that I always wanted to bring a date to...b-but there's a lot of other places around it we could go if that doesn't work out.”

“Australian Italian food? I think we can both work up a craving for that,” I said, patting my stomach. I paused, clearing my throat in the distinctive silence after a bad joke, before asking, “Sorry, that's...It's weird, isn't it?”

“What is?”
“Well...Yknow...” I shrugged. “The elephant in the room. The one that isn't me.” Ok, that one was a little funny.
Larry stole a glance at me once he pulled up to a stoplight. He shrugged and shook his head.
“Not really. I've dated women with kids before. It doesn't bother me.”
“But those kids were probably...well, already out of them.”
“Well yeah, I guess that's true.” He fell silent, taking a more direct look at me. “...Why are you so ashamed of your pregnancy?”

“Uhm...” I stalled for an answer. It was an unexpectedly direct question.
“When I look at you, I see a woman willing to own up to responsibilities and put someone else's life in front of her own. That's bravery. I think you should be proud you took the difficult path. That takes character.”

“Oh...” I blinked, looking out the window. “I...I don't know, I never really thought about it like that. It just felt more like...owning up to a mistake. Being reckless.”
“A punishment?” Larry added. “But you love your daughter. I can tell. You're proud of her, proud of her being a part of you, a piece of all the things you secretly love about yourself. She's your child and I think you should be as happy for yourself giving her life as she will be for having it.”

“I didn't know you could be so...eloquent.”
“Neither did I,” Larry said. “I'm on a date with a gorgeous, American wolfess in my car, but I feel more confident than nervous.” He paused, before clearing his throat and adding, “...but that 'I want you to show that to the whole world' line was...actually from a book I read...but it's still true. I promise.”

“I believe you,” I said, laughing. “...Hope. Her name is Hope.”
“Hope...” Larry repeated, nodding. “I like it.” He held out an arm and rested his large hand across my belly. “I can't wait to meet you, Hope.”
“Neither can I,” I agreed. The muscles of my stomach suddenly tightened and I hissed at the pressure while running a hand through my hair. Larry, alarmed, began to slow down the car.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a panic.
Already, the pressure was subsiding. “It's fine. It's gone already. Just Braxton-Hicks, nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” Larry asked, pulling into a side lane. “We can wait for...well, we can put this off until after Hope arrives.”
“It's not a big deal, really.” I reassured him, patting his arm. “Let's get to the restaurant before it's too crowded.” Truth be told, I was a little nervous, but I was more willing to go into labor at the date than miss it. I think I needed this more than Larry did.

We pulled into a single-story, old wooden building strung with lights, candle lighting on all the tables, and bustling crowds of people eating and drinking. We hadn't made a reservation, but a group ahead of us let us cut in front, likely out of pity for my paws. So we found a table toward the back of room, farther away from the rowdy crowds of drinkers on the patio.
As our waitress, approached, I pointed to her and made a demanding motion into my hand.

“Breadsticks?” I asked. She nodded. “Breadsticks.” I ordered. “Tons of them.” She nodded again, made a note onto her pad, and spun on her toes without another word. Another cramp hit me, a little more painful than last time, but still not bad enough that I couldn't hide it.

“You said you've always wanted to take a date here?” I asked, trying to take my mind off the discomfort. I massaged the bottom curve my belly, against Hope's back, in an effort to soothe the pain.
“It wasn't open when I was in the dating scene. It's...it's been a little while.”
“Why is that?” I asked, without thinking about it. Larry turned away, scratching behind his ear uncomfortably. “Oh...Oh no, sorry, I didn't mean to ask anything-”
“It's okay, don't worry about it,” he said, reassuring me. “I...was married before. Only for a couple years, to a girl from high school. About a year and a half ago, she cheated on me and filed for a divorce to go with her new boyfriend.” He sighed, idly playing with his silverware.
“Oh my god, that's horrible,” I said, taking his hand from across the table. “That's...god, that's awful. I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay,” he said, smiling. “I'm finally looking past it and moving on. I..regret that I wasn't really assertive enough to fight it, but that's something I can work on. It's...why I wanted to get to know you better, actually. I think you had that familiar kind of heartache.”
“I did. I had that and so much more.” I picked up the empty glass that was already sitting on the table and held it up. “To Josh, who had the decency to leave me before being as awful a father to his own son as his dad is to him.”
Larry picked up his glass and held it up before saying, “To Kimberly, who I hope is having a wonderful time in the middle of Alice Springs with her charming, mechanic boyfriend, who doesn't know her last name, while I'm on a date with someone twice the woman she is.”

We clinked glasses, then pretended to pour out the imaginary contents onto the ground. We laughed a little when the waitress saw us playing with them and offered to fill our glasses. After that, we chatted for a while. The breadsticks took about thirty minutes to get to us because of the crowd, but Larry and I were having a good enough time just chatting to care about it. We (mostly I and Hope) scarfed down breadsticks in ten minutes and ordered another basket, imagining the horrified cooks afraid of running out of them to the ravenous, pregnant wolf out at table number 15. I told Larry about that and we had a good laugh about it for a while before the waitress actually came back in sight with the basket in hand.
“Oh thank god!” I said, sitting up to take them from her. “You are my savior!” But as I leaned forward to catch the breadsticks before they hit the table, I froze like a statue as I felt, and even heard, a very solid pop