"Life is like an ever-shifting kaleidoscope – a slight change, and all patterns alter." - Sharon Salzberg

JANUARY 1981

Sue Ellen Ewing readily scraped the final scoops of pistachio ice-cream from the tub and licked her lips in satisfaction. She didn't often indulge in dessert, so easily plagued by the social pressure to maintain her figure, but the late-night snack called her name far too seductively. The Grandfather clock in the foyer chimed 2am and Sue Ellen leaned forward, her elbows rested lazily on the kitchen counter. The chime marked not only the late hour but also the third night in a row Sue Ellen had been restless enough to register it. Dr. Elby had diagnosed temporary insomnia, supposedly an expected symptom of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. J.R.'s shooting and her fleeting stint in prison were the accountable factors, but the doctor's mild reassurance didn't ofter much comfort in the dead of night.

Bare footsteps padding from the stairway caught her attention and Sue Ellen's heartbeat quickened, until Pam appeared in her silk nightgown. "Hi, Sue Ellen," she refilled her glass from a bottle of still water in the refrigerator and motioned to the empty ice-cream tub. "Hungry?"

"Peckish," Sue Ellen corrected, discretely nudging the evidence from plain sight.

"They say it's one of the signs, you know." When her sister-in-law attempted a display of confusion, Pam scooted into the chair beside her. "Late-night cravings, restlessness, moodiness." Her voice lowered, its tone knowing as Pam raised her brow, "You practically bit my head off this morning when I invited you to lunch." Had it not been for the recent difficulties Sue Ellen suffered, Pam might not have been so kind as to let Sue Ellen's bitchy remark slide.

Sue Ellen vaguely recalled describing Pam as a 'common shop girl' and shut her eyes, ashamedly. "I'm sorry, Pamela. I haven't been feeling all that well, lately." Every time she closed her eyes, an image of J.R.'s cold body - or worse, with Kristin - appeared and Sue Ellen preferred not to sleep. The consequential lack of energy and random attacks of dizziness rendered her a rather unpleasant person to live with.

"Bouts of sickness, too." Pam's lips spread into a small smile. "If I didn't know you and J.R. better, I'd wonder..." Somehow, Pam doubted the reason for Sue Ellen's sleepless nights were any of J.R.'s doing, at least, not in that respect. Sue Ellen evidently failed to reciprocate her humour and Pam re-tuned her tone. "I realise things haven't been easy for you since Kristin left for California. Counselling may not go down a storm with J.R., but perhaps a marriage specialist is exactly what the two of you need after all you've been through. Have you ever considered bringing in a third party?"

Sue Ellen heartily laughed off the suggestion, "Thank you, Pamela, but J.R.'s brought enough third parties into our marriage to last a lifetime. Besides, I'm already scheduled to see Dr. Elby twice a week; I think that's more than enough, don't you?" She hopped off the stool and retrieved a bottle of sparkling water from the double-door refrigerator. "I think I'll try and rest. I have a meeting with the D.O.A. tomorrow morning and I'd hate to miss it."

"Sue Ellen, hold on a second," Pam's hushed voice chased her up the stairs. "I realise it may not be my place to ask but... is it possible that you could be pregnant? I mean, I didn't think you and J.R. –" her usual confidence faltered, uncertain of how to approach the topic of Sue Ellen's sex life - or, lack of.

"Pamela, you're right - it's none of your business." Sue Ellen bit back, with all the vulnerability of an open book. The very suggestion of another child churned her stomach into one large knot. It had required almost a solid decade of marriage, before she had fallen pregnant with John Ross; one momentary loss of control, of blind rage after Kristin left for California could not have possibly been enough to create a second child. "Please excuse me, Pamela, I really am tired." Always one to travel in circles of denial, Sue Ellen shut the door in her sister-in-law's face and nervously paced back and forth, for once grateful J.R. had not returned home. In all his experience of deceit, J.R. Ewing was the equivalent of a human lie-detector.

Pam's knuckle rapped on the door relentlessly, yet wary not to wake the house's inhabitants. "Open the door, Sue Ellen." Pam became more convinced by the minute that her suspicions were on the money and her brain recalled the previous week – Sue Ellen's uncharacteristic exhaustion, yet inability to sleep at night; her sickness and not-too-noticeable weight gain. Another knock, and she feared the entire household would wake to the noise of their altercation. That was undoubtedly the endgame Sue Ellen strived to avoid, so she purposely raised her voice a decibel louder and utilised a theatrical tone. "Oh, come on, Sue Ellen. What are you so afraid of? Aren't you excited to hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet?"

It was enough to send Sue Ellen into a tailspin, so much so that the door swung open and she yanked Pam into the privacy of her bedroom. "Pamela, a few dizzy spells and the common bug do not equate to pregnancy!" The butterflies fluttered in her stomach, "Having another child is the least of my intentions, I can assure you."

Apparently deaf to Sue Ellen's insistence, Pam scurried from the room and returned a minute later with a small, rectangular box. "It's a pregnancy test." Sue Ellen scowled, defensive and irritated. "'I've had it since Bobby and I decided to try for another baby but this is more important."

"Pamela, I will not undergo the indignity of this test simply to cure your curiosity –"

Pam stood squarely with her feet to the ground, inches smaller but much bigger in the measure of intimidation. "Well, that's a shame, Sue Ellen, because I'm not going anywhere until you do. Sure enough, J.R. will come home or Bobby will wake up and wonder where I am, and either way you'll have to explain why I'm in here hovering over you with a pregnancy test." Her resolve was strong enough that her sister-in-law felt trapped between a rock and hard place. Sue Ellen snatched the pregnancy test and speechlessly stormed into the en-suite. "Give it a couple of minutes to register to result," she advised from the other side of the locked door. "It's not always 100% positive, so we can schedule an appointment with whichever specialist Dr. Danvers recommends. Of course, if it's positive, you'll need to make an appointment anyway for regular check-ups and a scan..." Excitement bubbled over the surface for Pam, bewitched by the vision of another child on Southfork. It would, undoubtedly, create more pressure for her and Bobby to conceive but the adrenaline denied the depression for the meantime. "Sue Ellen?" Very little movement could be heard from inside and she started to worry, "Sue –" The lock shunted open and Sue Ellen appeared, her expression sombre to such an extent that Pam kicked herself for building the woman's hopes, only to discover the symptoms were merely consequences of all the recent strain.

"I'm pregnant." Her serene admission was contradictory to the celebratory reaction Pam had expected, "Another Ewing heir."

The misery in Sue Ellen's emotive eyes was reminiscent of her pregnancy with John Ross and Pam's brow furrowed, "Sue Ellen, I understand how strained things have been between you and J.R. lately, but aren't you happy?" She struggled to grasp Sue Ellen's crestfallen response. "Pregnancy is such a wonderful experience, and this time you'll really be able to appreciate it."

Sue Ellen played her crowd-pleasing poker face, nodding her head with a robotic reply. "Of course I'm happy, Pamela. I'm very happy." Yet, nine months of being the sole person responsible for another's life, whilst haunted by her previous failure in doing so struck a terrifying chord within Sue Ellen. With her marriage was on the brink of destruction and her sister pregnant with her husband's child, she couldn't have envisioned a sicker twist of events. Her hand instinctively fell to her flattened stomach; she could barely recall the protruding bump John Ross had once occupied and the thought of another child provoked another dizzy spell. How desperately she craved the normal, loving pregnancy women raved about... how painfully certain she was that her marriage could not be rectified before the new arrival.