Silence.

We all had our plates loaded up with food, and no one was saying a word. Dad was poking at his potatoes, as if he was trying to discover the source of the water. Grandma was attempting to remove the lumps from her gravy. And Mom was cutting away the burnt parts from her meat. I looked down at my plate. Well hell. It looked alright to me. Could have been worse, I told myself. Don't know how, but it could have been. Dad finally took the first step and shoveled a forkful into his mouth. The rest of us stared at him, trying to gauge if it was safe to eat. He chewed quickly, then slower, and slower, until he swallowed, suppressing a shudder.
"You say you made this?" He asked me.

"Yep."
"It's great." He smiled, and loaded up his fork. We all did the same, and took a mouthful. I almost spat mine back out. It was terrible. But there was Dad, dutifully eating every last thing on his plate. I could feel the lump in my throat. I excused myself and dashed up to the bathroom. I put the lid down, sat on the toilet, and cried. After about 30 seconds I heard a knock on the door. I wiped my eyes, and went and opened the door. My Mom walked in and gave me a hug.

"It's ok honey, it's ok." She soothed, rubbing my back.
"I d-don't even know why I'm c-crying," I sobbed. "Dad was s-so nice, he ate it, even though it tasted t-terrible!"

"I know, I know." Mom walked me over and sat me down on the toilet seat again. "It's fine that you want to cry. It's normal Steph. Don't worry." She rubbed my shoulder. I took a huge shuddering breath.
"Yeah, I know. I just…" I sighed. "I'm ok now. Thanks Mom." I stood up and hugged her. "I'll be down in a minute." She smiled and left, shutting the door behind her.

My mother and I had never been especially close, but that was nice. I smiled and looked at my stomach in the mirror. Who knows, maybe I'll be comforting my daughter like that one day. Or my son.

I washed my face and blew my nose, and went back downstairs. Dinner had been taken away, and dessert was on the table. I sat down and Mom cut me a big piece of pineapple upside down cake. I took a bite. That's more like it.

((-))

"So you really tried cooking." Morelli said.

"Yep." I said, making a popping noise on the p.

"And it was really that bad."

"Yep." Pop.

"Well… It's the thought that counts."

"Oh go ahead and laugh. You look like you're about to bust a vein." I said. It was true. Morelli's face was read with effort, and the veins on his neck were sticking out.

"No, no. I'm not laughing." He said.

"Liar." I muttered. "I'm going for a shower." I said loud enough for him to hear. I turned and walked up the stairs and as soon and I was out of sight, I heard Morelli burst out laughing. I stopped, gave a long suffering sigh, and continued walking up the stairs to the shower. At least he hadn't laughed in my face.

((-))

The next morning Morelli woke me up at the ungodly hour of seven am.
"Come on Steph. You have a doctor's appointment at eight this morning, seeing as we skipped the last one." I sat up and looked out the window. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I had a doctor's appointment in an hour and really bad bed hair. Damn, mornings start so early. I got out of bed (eventually) and showered quickly, putting on a floaty skirt and stretchy top. Morelli had coffee and toasted bagels waiting downstairs when I walked into the kitchen. I smiled. He was a god amongst men. Not that I would ever actually tell him that.
By the time we were seated in the doctor's waiting room, we were only 10 minutes late. This was pretty darn good, considering just before we left, Morelli's newly acquired dog, Bob, hacked up a sock in the living room. But the Doctor was running 20 minutes late anyway, so we were golden.
I couldn't sit still. I fidgeted nervously with a magazine, with the hem of my skirt, with my engagement ring, until Joe grabbed my hands and held them still, planting a kiss on my shoulder.
"Stephanie Plum?" The receptionist called out. "The Doctor will see you now."
We stood and walked up the hallway into the Doctor's office. Pictures of babies at various stages of development in the womb were plastered on the walls. I found the one depicting growth at 5 weeks. Yep. It looked like a sea monkey.
Joe was behind me, greeting the doctor and introducing me.
"Doctor Song, this is my fiancé, Steph." Morelli grinned. I shook the doctor's hand. She was a pleasant looking woman, with kind eyes and wild curly hair. I liked her immediately.
"So. How far along did you think you are, Steph?" She asked when we were all seated.
"Um, about 5 weeks? Maybe?" She asked a hundred questions, ticking the answers off on a clipboard, but eventually she reached the end of it.
"If you would just lie on this table, I'll start the ultrasound." She smiled, and walked away into an adjoining room. I lay down on the uncomfortable table, and Doctor Song came back out, wheeling a machine in front of her. Joe was standing next to me, holding my hand.
"Just pull up your shirt for me… Just like that, thanks. Now, this is going to be a little cold…" She said as she squirted jelly on the end of the ultrasound wand.
I squeezed Joe's hand as she started rubbing it over my stomach, and fuzzy black and white pictures started to show up on the screen.
"Okay…" Doctor Song was muttering to herself as much as to us. "There we go!" She exclaimed, pointing to a spot on the screen. "There's your baby." I looked, but all I could see was the picture equivalent of white noise. I snuck a sidelong glance at Joe, and knew he couldn't see it either. Damn.
"Er… That little black dot or the right? Or the white dot?" I asked, sure I must look like the worst mother ever. I couldn't even pick out my sea monkey in a fuzzy black and white picture.
"Don't worry, not many people can see it the first time round." She fiddled with some switches, and moved the wand around a little, and then it was there. A little black dot, totally identifiable in the mass of other, smaller dots. I knew Joe could see it too, when he squeezed my hand. Doctor Song was smiling.
"I'll print that out for you, will I?"
"Please." I said, half whispered. That was the sea monkey. Oursea monkey. An actual living thing. And it was in my stomach. Holy heck.

Yay for crazily infrequent updates!
Please don't hate me.