It wasn't too long before an evening brought with it the sound of a knock on my front door. The knock was soft and telltale, an alert to whom stood just behind the weathered timber. Despite the relative quietness of the thud I still jumped upon hearing it.

I admit I wasn't looking forward to this day. I knew it would come at some point upon learning my news, but anticipation doesn't always make a pill easier to swallow. Often, instead, it just makes one that more conscious of the passing time, counting the hours, minutes, even seconds until their wait is over. Following my gasp and pressing my eyes closed I even, if only for a moment, considered trying to hide and pretend I wasn't home.

But that wouldn't solve anything. If my experience with past patrons were any indication, it would even stand to make it worse.

Standing up from my chair I took a brief pause to collect myself and my thoughts, my ears sinking as every possibility ran through my head. I slowly walked to my front door while hugging my arms around my front, bracing myself. Another brief pause and my hand finally met the handle, giving it a turn before slowly pushing the door open to see who awaited me.

Two fiery orange eyes met my gaze, wide and pleading like those of a puppy. I'd seen this many times by now but it always took me aback, and even more so with my current circumstances.

"Stella?" the man said from a bit below me.

"Ah, Morissey...good evening," I replied.

His round ears stood upright before slowly slinking back as his expression turned to concern.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, adjusting his grip on a bag he held at his front.

"O-Oh, um, no, I'm just...tired," I tried to fib. "It's been a while; it's nice to see you again."

His ears slowly ascended, reassured, as I stepped aside to let him into my small hovel of a home. He took a quick look behind him, checking over his shoulder before quickly shuffling into the house so I could close the door.

"I just got back to Stipa," he said, placing a cloth bag on my kitchen table. "I'm sorry it's been so long, but the storms have been pretty brutal a bit further north. 'Tis the season and all, but still, I'd...rather be here."

I slowly walked over to the doorway and leaned against it while he pulled a few things from his bag. In the dim candlelight I could see a loaf of bread, some cured meats, a small wheel of cheese, and a little box of what seemed to be chocolate. The box was fairly dark so I couldn't make out too much from where I stood.

"You've, uh, got your hands full there," I awkwardly laughed. "I hope you don't feel like you need to get those things for us."

"No, it's something I like doing," he said, pulling a few more things from the bag. "I want to provide if and how I can. I also got some things you might find useful."

He turned around to show me a large sack of flour, sugar, and a small assortment of spices.

"I know you like cooking and baking, and these things won't spoil anytime soon," he mentioned, placing them back down on the table. "You've mentioned that shopping around here can be difficult. I'm not sure if you have any on-hand already, but even so, now you'll have more!"

He quietly laughed before grabbing the final gift-- a small bottle. The shape alone gave away what it was and I felt my heart sink into my stomach.

"This is pretty hard to find here and I thought you might...like to try it sometime?" he asked with a rising pitch. "You don't have to, and I've been trying to keep away from these things, but, um...m-maybe for an occasion?"

"'These things'?" I repeated in question.

"Well, not this, specifically, but I've been trying to...you know, limit my vices to something a bit more reasonable," he answered with a sigh. "It's not been the easiest thing, but it seems to help if there's something I can look forward to-- something like coming here, as corny as that might sound."

"...You actually like coming here?" I asked, my head tilted.

"Of course I do. There, well...there isn't really much to look forward to otherwise, sure, but...it's...it's nice to be in the presence of someone who treats me like a person, someone who actually seems to...dare I say enjoy my company? Pardon if that's not the case--"

"I do like your company, Morissey, but I don't know why you'd like mine. I don't exactly have much to offer to someone like you."

He seemed confused.

"...Someone like me?" he asked. "A pure type?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little, "No, honey, I mean your status. You've got no issue getting by, as far as I can tell, so to come here and even say it's something you look forward to is, well, a little strange. That's all."

Even though he seemed a bit relieved the look of confusion still remained through it all.

"I know I'm not around terribly often, but I assure you it's not out of lack of desire," he sighed, resting his hand on the table and cocking his head to the side as his eyes met the floor. "If I had my way I'd be here indefinitely. As it is I try to come by whenever I'm in the area. Unfortunately this summer has been messy-- so many storms and floods, it's kind of ridiculous. I'm trying to spread out more around these areas, as well as around Huot, so more people have more access to help when these things happen. Part of why I'm gone a lot is because I need to oversee the startups for a while and help get things established and running."

Even in the dim light the look of exhaustion on his face was unmistakable. We'd known each other for a few years by now but this was probably the most haggard he'd looked on a visit. Travel is already draining normally, but for that to be part of one's job, well, I can't say I envied him. Even a lot of traders on their routes only do so for a short time, most settling down somewhere to start their own lives and families while their legs still work.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sour the mood," he said before turning to grab the bottle and hand it to me. "I'm not sure if you like wine much, or if you've even had it, but I wondered if you might like to try this. It's more of a dessert drink, fairly sweet with a light fizz. I thought it might go well with some chocolate."

I looked at the bottle in my hands. The bright pink of the wine itself reminded me of the pink roses he brought me back then, which was already the nicest gesture I'd received that wasn't from my son. I felt my gaze lose focus as my thoughts began to race and tune out the world around me, feeling as though I was the only one animate in a stone-still world.

"Stella, what's wrong?" he asked, bringing me back to focus. "You've seemed rather distant since I got here. Did I do something?"

...One way to put it, I suppose.

"I'm sorry, Morissey, but I can't drink this," I said, giving the bottle back. "Thank you, though. All of this is very kind of you."

"O-Oh, do you not like wine?" he stuttered. "Sorry, I should have asked first. I-I know not everyone--"

"I do like some wines," I replied, catching him off guard, "at least from the few I've tried."

"I--"

"I just...can't drink it, at least not right now," I finished, turning away to leave the room.

"I don't..." he trailed off in thought. "Are you sick? I could take--"

"Well, um, that is part of it," I said through a sad little chuckle.

"...'Part of it'?"

A hush fell upon the room. Even if just for a moment it felt as though the world was just us, with nothing and no one past my home's shaky walls. Without thinking one of my hands reached across to the opposite shoulder, giving it a squeeze as I tried to calm my pounding heart.

"...I'm pregnant," I finally mumbled, the words leaving my mouth as tears, in turn, left my eyes.

The silence persisted with only the breeze whistling through the window to remind me that the world was still here. Neither of us could seem to muster a word further, and though I dreaded to see his reaction I turned around to face him after collecting myself. Rather than the anger or fear I expected I was instead met with a look of sheer surprise.

"...You're sure?" he asked, with seemingly what all remained of his mental stamina.

"...I'm sure," I replied. "With clients I was always so careful to track my cycles, but...I guess I'd gotten sloppy and forgetful. I'm so--"

"Do you know whose it is?" he asked further, unable to stop his thoughts.

I waited for a moment. I supposed he wouldn't know of what took place around here when he was away.

"...Well, I'd actually stopped taking any clients for quite a while now," I responded, breaking the eye contact with a glance to my side. "I thought it would...maybe be of poor taste to continue given our relationship. I don't know of many men who want a harlot for a significant other. Since I was never in very high demand the drop in money hasn't made much of an impact, and, well, I hate to say it but your help with providing has been...well, helpful. More so than you might think. Otherwise I grow or make the bulk of our food, so...as long as that's still viable we won't be without."

"...S-So...you mean it's..." he couldn't seem to finish his thought.

"It's yours, Morissey," I confirmed, unable to face him. "I'm sorry."

From the edge of my view I could see him reach up with one hand at his face and the other at his chest, as though to feel his own heartbeat. Against my better judgment I turned my head just enough to get a better look: His expression remained stunned and, though I could have been mistaken, I thought I saw a tear fall from his eye. Slowly his mouth creased from shock to a tiny smile.

"...I guess I should...maybe start putting some plans into motion," he quietly said. "Find something, somewhere maybe...a bit further north. Something for all four of us."

My ears went askew. He turned back to the table and picked up the wine, pausing briefly to look at it in his hands before putting it back in his bag.

"Maybe, for once, it isn't necessary to celebrate with this," he commented, placing his hand down on the bag. "We can have it later."

"...'Celebrate'?"

He finally turned back toward me, his eyes glistening and full of mirth as he give me his biggest-ever smile.

"Our family."