"Hey Charlotte, Will's in Tokyo and Gigi just went back to school. Do you want to come over? I don't like being alone in this big house and I miss my best friend."

"I'd love to come. I'll bring the wine."

"No wine, Charlotte," she spat out.

"No wine? You love wine. Oh. My. God. Lizzie, are you pregnant?"

"I don't know. Just come over."

"Fine. I'm leaving now. And when I get there we're gonna talk about this."

"Okay, see you soon," she says hanging up the phone.

Lizzie answers the door in a giant Harvard sweatshirt (Will's obviously) and legging. She pulls her into a hug, "Charlotte, I've missed you so much. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she says walking in, "what's this about you thinking you might be pregnant?"

"I mean, it's not like I've taken a test of anything," she says playing with the ties of the sweatshirt, "And I'm only a few days late. I'm probably not even pregnant."

"Luckily I stopped at a drug store on the way and got you a pregnancy test," she said pulling it out of her purse.

"Charlotte!"

"What? You can't just tell me that you think you might be pregnant and expect me to do nothing about it."

"Okay, I'll take the test," Lizzie says grabbing the test from her friend and heading up the stairs, "come on."

Lizzie takes her up to the master bedroom before disappearing into the master bath to take the test. Charlotte lays down on top of the covers on the bed, "Is there a TV behind that painting?" Charlotte asks.

"Yeah, you press a button on the remote, wherever that is, and the painting folds down to reveal the TV," she called from the bathroom.

"I still can't get over the fact that you live in Wayne Manor."

"It's not Wayne Manor," she says emerging from the bathroom, "We have to wait five minutes," she says joining Charlotte on top of the bed.

"You know Lizzie, I'm sure you're the last daughter your mother would have expected to get pregnant out of wedlock."

"Shut up," she laughs rolling on to her stomach, "we're practically married anyway."

"Actually, you're only engaged," Charlotte corrects.

"Well yeah, but we're getting married in like six weeks."

"Your mother will freak out if you give her a grandkid before Jane and Bing do."

"I know," she smiles.

"Are you even ready for a baby?"

"I don't know. I mean, could I handle a baby? I think I could. I mean I know we could do it. I do have the luxury of staying home."

"You want to stay home?" Charlotte cocks an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"Wow."

"What do you mean wow?" Lizzie asks sitting up.

"I just think it's funny that your life is turning out exactly how your mother always planned it. You're about to marry a very rich man, I mean a lot richer than your mother probably could have dreamed of,"

"Charlotte!"

"I'm just saying. If only this compound had a white picket fence. You're going to stay home and raise your 2.5 kids just like your mother wanted."

"I am not like my mother."

"Oh you so are," she laughed.

"Ugh, Charlotte, there's just something about William Darcy that makes me want to stay home and raise our twelve children."

"Be serious Lizzie."

"The scary thing is that I'm being one hundred percent serious."

Charlotte isn't entirely sure if she's kidding or not, "I want you to be honest with me. What results are you hoping for?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I want a baby. I really, really, really do. But I mean, I would prefer to do the whole baby thing after the wedding. I don't want morning sickness on my wedding day or to get too big for my dress. That's the rational part of me. But then there's the emotional side. Gigi and I were shopping for a baby gift for her old tennis coach's wife the other day, and I might have gone back this morning and bough a onesie with a bowtie on it. Ugh I just don't know anymore," she said burying her face in a pillow.

"Wow," Charlotte says, "I can't get over how much everything has changed. It seems like only yesterday when you hated Darcy and his bowties and now you two are getting married and having a baby."

"We might be having a baby," she corrected. The timer on her phone goes off, "Oh god, it's ready."

"Go check," Charlotte urges.

"You go check," Lizzie says holding a pillow in front of her chest.

"It's your pregnancy test." Charlotte counters.

"I can't do it, please Charlotte."

She's about to refuse until she sees the look in Lizzie's eyes, "Fine," she says hopping off the bed.

"Well?" Lizzie asked gripping the pillow even tighter, "what does it say?'

"You can put the bowtie onesie away for a while; you're not pregnant."

"Oh."

"Oh? Lizzie, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says her voice cracking. She gives the pillow a squeeze. Tears are threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes, "Charlotte I'm really okay. I swear. I don't know why I'm crying."

"Lizzie, it's alright," she says as she tries awkwardly to comfort her.

"I know. I'm really fine," her phone starts to ring, "Shit, it's Will," she says pulling her phone from her pocket, "Hey Will," she answers.

"Hey, I'm about to head to a business lunch. I miss you. What are you doing?" he asks her.

"Nothing," she says, her voice is still shaky, and "Charlotte is over we're going to open a bottle of wine and watch a Colin Firth movie."

"Are you okay? It sounds like you have been crying? Have you been crying? Has something happened?" his concern brings a smile to her face.

"No, everything's alright. I'm fine."

"Lizzie, I know that you're lying to me."

"Fine. I thought I might be pregnant but, but I'm not."

"Oh."

"That was my reaction too," she's smiling, but you cannot tell from her voice.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he sounds uncomfortable.

"No, it's fine. Go to lunch. We can talk about it when you get home."

"I love you Lizzie."

"I love you too, Will."

"Alight. I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow before I get on the plane."

"Bye," she says before hanging up the phone. She turned to Charlotte who had left the room to give her some privacy, "Charlotte, want to raid the wine cellar and watch Shakespeare in Love?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. There will be plenty of time for babies in bow ties once I'm married. Now come on. There's nothing that wine from Darcy's vineyard and Colin Firth can't fix."

"Darcy has a vineyard?' Charlotte asks incredulously as she follows Lizzie down the stairs.

Lizzie laughs, the bag with the bowtie onesie beneath their bed forgotten, "Yeah, he has a vineyard."

"Of course he does," she smirks.