Stephen bounced from one foot to the other, tea towel dangling from his shoulder as he shimmied the frying pan back and forth. The pancake was ready to be flipped and added to the over-zealous pile.
A rattling of keys told him his wife was home. He quickly positioned himself. Frying pan in one hand, the other holding his wife Mary’s favourite non-alcoholic beer, naked torso flexed in the lazy afternoon sunlight. The smell enticed her to the kitchen where she took in the sight of him with a low chuckle and reddening cheeks.
“Stephen? What are you doing?”
“Oh, I just thought you might like some pancakes,” he said, waggling the beer at her. She obliged and took a sip, eyeing him thoughtfully.
“What’s happened? Have we won the lottery?”
“You could say that,” he flipped the last pancake, added it to the tower and turned off the hob. Mary watched with mounting curiosity as he picked up something wrapped in kitchen roll. Something small and thin, like a pencil. With a flourish he revealed a pregnancy test, a used one with two blue lines announcing a positive result.
“How long have you known?” Stephen asked, his excitement making his voice as squeaky as a teenage girl’s.
The look on her face made his grin falter, “It’s not, uh… I’m not…”
“This says positive,” he said, pointing at the little result box.
“I didn’t take a pregnancy test.”
“Well then who-”
“Heeeey!” Jessica, their teenage daughter, suddenly yelled from the front door, “Me and Suzie are just heading out to the mall… ewww gross! Daaad! Put a shirt on, Jeez!”
The door slammed shut, leaving an electrified silence humming in the air. Stephen placed the test on the counter with trembling fingers, “I thought it was you.”
© Rachel Smith