Unexpectedly quick update:
The nursery was nearly perfect—a pink and white confection full of brightly colored toys and heavy baby furniture. The only thing left to assemble was the crib; it was slightly more complicated than she had anticipated. The screws didn’t seem to fit where they were supposed to, the legs wouldn’t line up, and the instructions might as well have been in Chinese.
Or maybe it was just that putting together a crib was a two-person job.
She sighed; that was a depressing thought. Piggy threw the screwdriver down in disgust, only to have it rebound off the crib’s backboard and jab her in the shin. She yelped in pain, then hissed as she rubbed it vigorously.
“Piggy?” came Kermit’s concerned voice from the hallway. “Are you okay?”
“Oh—yes,” she called, frantically scrambling over bits to get over to the door. “No need to come in. Everything is fine!”
The doorknob was already turning though—and with it came a terrible feeling of déjà vu. The silence filled the room to overflowing as Kermit stood in the doorway and stared. She wondered if he was remembering the last time they had stood like this. The things he had said to her still ached when she was alone at night—and the things she had said... Then finally, finally he spoke.
“Piggy—what is this?” The faint accusation stung.
Piggy straightened her shoulders defiantly. “
This is my dream. And before you say anything, you should know that
nothing you say is going to change my mind, so you can just turn right around and pretend you didn’t see any of this!”
Kermit’s expression went from blank to irritated in the blink of an eye. “
Right,” he said sarcastically, “because this doesn’t concern me at all. I should have known you were up to something like this—I don’t know what I was thinking!”
“Up to something? The only thing I have been up to is decorating my own side of the house with my own money, so butt out, frog breath!”
“You’re decorating a
nursery!”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Kermit!” Piggy shouted. “It’s not going to be
your baby!”
Kermit froze, his mouth open. If it had been any other situation, it might have been comical. Piggy just used the silence to push him out the door and lock it behind him.
She would not cry.
She wouldn’t.
~~~~~~~~
Kermit stared at the closed door for almost a full minute before slowly wandering back to his room. He felt as though he were in a daze. Piggy—his Piggy—was going to have someone else’s baby? That didn’t seem possible.
And then came the more dreadful thought….who was the father? Some nameless fling in Paris? One of those international actors who seemed to gravitate to her? Or worse…one of their friends….someone who would do anything to help if Piggy so much as batted an eyelash at him.
If that baby came out even faintly blue, he would find that long-nosed mutant and—
He cut that faintly bloodthirsty thought off; he was being ridiculous. Gonzo was in a committed relationship with Camilla and there was no reason to think Piggy would ask him anyway. No, it was far more likely she’d gone to one of those clinics—some cold, impersonal place where you went when there weren’t any other options. Had he forced her to
that?
He sighed. How did they end up like this? He’d always assumed that someday he and Piggy would resolve their differences, build a house together—maybe even have a few…figs. But now…
Well—they
were together and they were living in a house that was pretty much perfect for them. And Piggy
was going to have a baby, but…it was all wrong. And now it looked like Piggy couldn’t even stand him.
Someday finally came…and it was too late.
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