I couldn't put it off any longer.

After picking my way through dinner and ardently assuring my parents that I felt much better now (a little white lie now and then never hurt anyone), I washed the dishes and started for my room.

"Don't forget your phone," Scott reminded me.

I whirled.  "It came in today?"

"Uh-huh," he said.  "Same kind as before?"

"Yup.  Exact same."

"You could have gotten an upgrade, you know," Scott pouted.  "You're phone's already a year old!"

"It doesn't make any difference, it's the same setup.  I remember the days when they didn't even have cell phones, or the Internet."

He frowned.  "How?"

"Life didn't begin in the nineties, Scott," I said simply. 

"Yours did!"

I made myself laugh at that, then disappeared into my bedroom and shut the door, phone tucked under my arm.  Farnsworth, my conure, stopped gnawing on his cuttlebone and greeted me with half a phrase I'd been trying to teach him for a year. 

"News, ev'un!"

"Good news, everyone!" I corrected him, rubbing his bright green belly.  "You'll get it one day, you're a smart bird."

"News, BIRD!" he squawked.  "Farnsie, BIRD!"

"Something like that," I mumbled.  I took him out of his cage and put him on my shoulder, where he hid in my hair and nibbled ferociously on my earlobe.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, I know I cheated on you with a cat, but that's no reason to eat my ear," I half-smiled. 

But I wasn't smiling for much longer.  I reached into my backpack and drew out the ultra-sensitive pregnancy test.  Taking a deep breath, I set Farnsworth back on top of his cage while I slipped quietly into the bathroom.  My stomach was wringing itself with anticipation.  This was just a precaution of course, it was so improbable, so unlikely.  But I had to find out. 

The box said it would take a few minutes for the result to appear, so I took the test into my room and laid it on a piece of wax paper on the window sill.  Perhaps I could have left it in the bathroom, but at this time I did not need Scott's confused inquiries or, heaven forbid, my parents' demands to know what this filthy thing was doing in their house.

So I set my mind on my new Magic Mirror.  I took it out of the package, about to insert the new SIM when I remembered the old SIM and SD I still had.  A few snaps and cracks, and I'd replaced the blanks with those of my old phone, the one Freddie had allegedly pulverized.  Then I plugged it in to charge the battery.  Hopefully the pictures had saved to the card and not to my phone itself. 

I wondered exactly what Freddie had done when he discovered I was gone.  Clearly he was livid, and had taken his rage out on my belongings, but what all had he felt?  Was he just angry that I had betrayed him?  Was he sad?  Was he relieved?  Did he miss me, or did my memory drown in the bottomless depths of his past?

I think he got over me- and fast, I tried to tell myself, desperately grasping for my old, comforting cynicism.  After all, he never mentioned me- no one did, in fact.  Freddie probably considered me just another flash-in-the-pan traitor- one that helped to send him over the edge, but again, I was likely only one of many factors.  I need to stop assigning myself so much importance.  Anyway, I'm sure seeing David that night helped to ease the pain of abandonment.  Maybe it's good to have backup lovers; that way, losing one doesn't seem so devastating.  There's always more where that came from.

Regardless of my thoughts and K's words, I still wanted to kill myself.  Perhaps I had not directly killed Freddie- but I had not lived up to my own promises, something for which I had condemned so many others around him.  I had pledged my loyalty, my love- and then the very next morning I left him. 

I was no better than Paul.  And that alone was enough reason to die. 

But I couldn't take my own life, if it meant taking another, blissfully innocent one in the process. Not only was that selfish; that was cruel.  So I had to be sure.

It had been five minutes; accurate results were promised after three.  Against my will, I stood up, and walked toward the window sill.  Across the hall I could hear Scott watching some South Park rerun; I knew Cartman's squeaky, obscenity-ridden voice anywhere.  Somehow that didn't seem an appropriate soundtrack for the occasion, so I knelt to the box that never made it to Goodwill and pulled out one of my Queen albums- A Day at the Races, Side B, to be precise. 

Seconds later, "Somebody to Love" began playing- a song that reminded me immediately of something Freddie had whispered moments after we made love for the last time.  His voice ringing in my ears, I closed my eyes and immersed in the memory:

He was cradling me in his arms, kissing me tenderly while I lay quietly sighing beneath him, holding on with whatever strength I had left, dizzy with passion.  Then he drew back a little, and reached up his ringed hand to touch my mouth. Freddie had loved to do that, to just trace the edges of my lips with his long fingers. 

Freddie was so beautiful in that moment; I remember the morning sunlight was hitting his eyes in such a way that they seemed lighter- a warm, chocolate brown instead of their usual charcoal color, fringed by those long, thick black lashes- and the love in them was so sincere, so completely frank. 

At last he spoke.  "I suppose He listens, after all."

"Who does?" I whispered.

Freddie smiled.  "Your Boss.  A very generous Person indeed."

"What do you mean?"

With a little shrug, he replied, "I asked for somebody to love- but He did more than just send me that."

"He did?"

"He did.  He sent me one of His own."  Freddie pressed his face into my neck, and sighed.  "He sent me you."

I didn't have any words to answer with, except for a choked "Oh, my prince..." and for the next couple of minutes we simply lay there silently and let our hearts do the talking. 

Funny, how that sweet little exchange should come back to haunt me now.

"And I get down on my knees/ And I start to pray/ Till the tears run down from my eyes, Lord!/ Somebody/ ooo, Somebody/ Can't anybody find me/ Somebody to love?"

I forced myself to walk back to the window.  I had to face the music (and the truth, for those who want to be cute about it). 

At last I took a deep breath.  Now or never, me.

I looked. And for a split second my heart forgot to beat.

I stared at the test for a long, long while, until finally I stood, wrapped the little plastic menace in tissues, and threw it away.  I lay carefully back against the bed, hands falling across my stomach as I watched the ceiling fan blades revolve over my head.  Farnsworth started preening his green and red feathers, shook the dust out of them. It was cold in the room, I didn't need to have the fan going, but I didn't get up to turn it off.  I scarcely noticed anything at that moment except for the image of two pink lines flickering behind my eyelids, like the spots that block your sight after looking too long at the sun. 

In a quiet, frightened voice, I murmured two words I never thought I would say as an unmarried, twenty-year-old college student. 

Then I bolted to the bathroom to throw up half my supper.

***********************************************************************************

It was nearly midnight, and most everyone else had gone to sleep. Everyone but me.

I sat alone on the roof, gazing upward, pretending to count the millions of cold white pinpricks speckling the darkness above me while I strummed my guitar and made soft vapors on the air with every breath. My wedding ring was wrapped round my finger. And on occasion a quiet little drop of salt water trickled down my nose, and the lump in my throat thickened so that I couldn't sing for a verse or two.

I will never forget that cold, quiet night. Because to me, it marked an official end to the life I had planned. The life I had hoped for, one that kept surprises to a minimum, maintained along the straight and narrow, was gone, with no hope for return. I was turning back the last page in this chapter of my life. A new chapter lay in wait with the rising of the morning sun- a chapter I had not expected, or desired.

I would only be able to hide my condition for so long.  Another four months, maybe, at most.  And once my parents knew, I would have to start finding my own way.  They had warned me as much years ago, shortly after we had had the "talk." 

Oh, how drastically my world had changed in a matter of weeks- how drastically even I had changed. Once I was someone whose sole focus was to get through life without stepping on any trip wires- an ordinary, uncomplicated, unattached girl, defined by my own inexperience yet savvy enough to tell the difference between a sheep and a wolf in sheep's clothing. My parents had raised me well, and raised me right. I was their pride and joy, the image of wholesomeness with a rich, promising future- something they could truly be proud of.

But then, Freddie happened. The one thing that could get to me, got to me. My Achilles heel, my obsession, my kryptonite- he changed my life forever. As Woody Allen once put it,"If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans." And where I was concerned, the Almighty had something else in mind.

And now I was almost two weeks pregnant.

With Freddie's baby.

And I couldn't even tell him. Forty years and an ocean separated us. And T-Rod had been removed from the university, transported to some unknown location.

I put the guitar down against a crevice on the roof and tucked up into a ball.  Perhaps, it was better this way. I didn't know what Freddie might have done, if I'd stayed and had to tell him I was pregnant. Not to say he would have turned me out onto the street, Freddie would never have done that. But things most certainly would have cooled on his end. For playful jokes and throwaway remarks aside, Freddie had never wanted kids; if he did, he would have let Mary have his child. She had suggested it, after all, and he turned her down.

But no, that honor had been saved for me.  A lonely honor, this, to bear his child and raise it by myself, virtually disowned by my own parents, perhaps having to quit school just to make the money to support it.  The life for which I had left my prince was shattering before my very eyes.  I could see it now: Julia Samuels, the new black sheep of the family, right alongside dear Cousin Roxie and her mystery blight upon the Brazzi reputation.

God, please, help us, I prayed.  We're all alone down here.

The kid's heart wasn't even beating yet and I was already using the collective "we."

Suddenly I needed to hear Freddie speak, but not in the sense of an interview, not that calculated, offhand manner he used while he had a microphone pinned to his shirt. I wanted the voice he used when we were alone. Maybe I was desperate, and yes, I knew it would hurt, but I didn't care. I needed this.

I picked my new phone out of my pocket and turned it on.  Please tell me the pictures saved to the card and not the Android.

But to my dismay, I found the SD card was completely void of photos and music.  The only things that had saved to it were two videos- one that lasted for half a minute, and the other which all by itself had consumed the rest of the entire card's memory.  Judging by the dark, shadowy thumbnails, they looked like two videos that had happened because I sat down on my phone the wrong way.

All the same, I touched the shorter one first, fingers crossed.

The image was kind of dark, but I could hear the music just fine.  "There's No Getting Over Me" blasted out of the speaker, as thought the phone itself was making the music mid-videotape.  At once I brightened the screen.  Now I could see.  It was me in a white dress, dancing around in the back of a souped-up car while someone else held the camera and snickered to himself. 

In spite of myself, I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth. It was the video Freddie had taken on our last night together.  So- what was this other, longer one?

After I tortured myself with the whole clip of Freddie and me in the Rolls Royce, I played the second - all twenty-five minutes of it.

To anyone else, it would have been twenty-five minutes utterly wasted.  Freddie had apparently snuck my phone out of the flat before heading to Wessex- and decided to film the whole trip there.  At least, that was his original idea, until he discovered the reverse camera, which captured the five seconds he spent checking for any food in his teeth, a pleasant chitchat with Rudy about his driver's own family (or, more accurately, his lack thereof), and a little vocal practice.

But it was the last five minutes that absolutely killed me- and yet, I couldn't stop watching it.  I just kept watch the final five minutes over and over again, wishing more and more every time that I had never been born.

God, he was so pretty, those sweet sculpted features of his, the lips that had kissed me countless times now split in a warm, happy grin under the shining dark eyes.  It tore me in two.  I've long since taken the card out of my phone and packed it away with the rest of my memorabilia of Freddie, but I know every word of the last five minutes by heart.

For in those five minutes, Freddie decided to send me a rather nervous, bashful little message.

"Hello, Julia," he said.  "You'll see this some day, I know, the way you keep fooling around with this thing.  [sigh]  You know, it's, um, it's funny how I can sort of say these things a lot more, um, more boldly when you aren't around- wait, no, that's not the right thing to- oh, f---.  In that case, it's good I'm not face-to-face with you about this, because God knows I'd f--- it up somehow.  I'd find a way. Um- [Freddie looked up toward Rudy] Remember, Rudy, not a word about this to her, okay? [Rudy's muffled "Yes, Freddie"]  Want her to find out in due time.  Anyway. 

"Okay, look.  Do you remember asking me what made me start loving you?  Good.  Because I'm going to tell you, although it's not the most romantic story in the world.  It's just-  It was at the Heatwave, and you probably don't remember this but- you were a goner.  To the point that you were actually, you know, being sick and I had to follow you in and make sure you didn't- you were having a sort of hard time and- anyway, you did eventually settle down, but- it's what you said to me right after you stopped.

"We were alone in the WC, and I was dabbing a wet towel on your face to try to cool you off a bit.  Then all of a sudden you opened your eyes and you smiled at me, your face all hot and flushed, and you said this to me.  You whispered, 'Thank God for you, my darling,' and then you just kind of passed out.  You leaned forward against me and your dead weight knocked me to the floor, your arms were around my neck.  And I didn't get mad at all, I just- I just smiled too.

"It's not very romantic, like I said- but that's when I believe I, quite literally, started to fall in love with you.  I even had the bruise on the face to prove it. 

"So you see, Julia- Rudy, how close are we?  A couple more minutes?  Right, I'll try and wrap this up then.  It's like I told you, darling, falling in love just kind of happens in places we don't expect.  But it was that moment I realized first, that I didn't just, wasn't just attracted to you.  I also loved just taking care of you.  Everyone else I've sort of fallen in love with sort of has to look after me- [to himself] which reminds me, I'm going to have to go over what I want to say to David. Certainly he'll understand, this has been a long time coming anyway.  [then to the camera]  You see, I'm actually breaking it off with him tonight, so- let's just say I'll be especially happy to see you later [smile and a chuckle]."

Oh God, I thought to myself in horror.  Oh, God, oh, God, I was wrong.  OH GOD.  But he still wasn't finished.

"You're such a lovely person to be around, my dear- you make me so very happy and I love doing things to make you happy too. Sometimes the plans I make don't work out, but- somehow that's all the more fun. I can't explain it. You do something wonderful to me, it's like- it's like I can actually relax. Not that I couldn't relax before, because I could, it's just different. It's like- it's like a peace inside. I'm just happy, and I tell you, it's a strange, beautiful feeling."

Freddie went on, "And I know I've- there have been many occasions where I've acted sort of less than princely, but - but I need you to know that I... I love you, darling.  I don't think you have any idea how much I really do love you, but it's- it's a lot."

He paused there, and just smiled before the Rolls rocked to a final halt, which made him continue even as he was getting out of the car and walking to the studio.

"Uh-oh, here we go.  So really my point is- trust me, Julia.  We've barely just started, and I've got such marvelous plans for us.  Just give us a chance!  My God, we've only officially been lovers for a day and a half.  Give us a little time- give me a little time.  You'll see.  I've taught you to be a bad girl- now it's your turn to teach me to be a nice- um, nicer man.  I'm ready to learn whenever you're ready to show me."  He winked.

"Now, my dear, I've got to go to work, so I hope this wasn't too awkward a thing to watch {bashful giggle], but um- have a nice day, and I'll see you tonight."  He looked to the side, then pressed a quick kiss against the screen, ending at last with a "Love you!" and a wave.

And that was that.

It was half-past one by the time I clambered down from the roof with my guitar and phone in hand, tears quietly streaming down my cheeks with no sign of ceasing anytime soon. 

All I wanted to do was save my grades.  In that, I had succeeded- but with an immeasurable, irreversible cost.  I never intended such carnage- but in the end, I suppose it's not what's intended to happen, it's what actually happens.

Only two weeks.  Fourteen days that upended the entire universe. One fortnight.

And look what had happened.  I was pregnant and alone, with God as my sole stronghold and judge combined.  My world, Freddie's life, and our love lay crushed and broken in my wake.

This was the mess I made.

******************************************************************************************

I cried myself to sleep that night.  I'd never done that before; there had never been a reason to until recently.  I had heard that Freddie cried himself to sleep many times when he was a boy at boarding school.  He had always felt so alone, so abandoned, even from childhood.  That one fact alone explained so much about him.  I could never hope to understand the feeling fully, since he lived with it all his life and only now was I truly tasting despair.  But now I had a much better idea what that could do to a man's soul.

But even with the greatest despairs, comes a thin ray of hope.

That night, I dreamed something I had not dreamed before, and have not dreamed since.  But it stays with me:

I was standing alone at the cliffs, the dark red miasma fading away and returning to the lighter magenta hue.  Freddie had disappeared into the bottomless ravine, and the world no longer shook.  I held the Relic in my shaking hand, going mad in the deathly silence.  I didn't jump in after him, as much as I wanted to.  My feet simply wouldn't permit me the leap. 

Finally I screamed and threw the Relic down into the ravine, then turned away and wept, crying so hard I fell to my knees upon the rocky earth.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed.  "My prince, my beautiful prince, I'm so sorry..."

I was so lost in my own grief I didn't notice the shadow falling over me.  After a few minutes, I felt a hand descend upon my bare back, which slipped down further and became two strong arms wrapping comfortingly around me, fingers gently running through my hair.  On instinct I clung to this person, burying my face in their neck, which smelled like cologne, cigarettes, and licorice-

My eyes snapped open, lifted to my comforter's face.  I opened my mouth, but no words came.  All I could do was stare right back into the deep, smiling black eyes gazing down into mine. 

Freddie's appearance startled me- not because he still wasn't wearing any clothes, I expected that.  But he looked older- in his mid to late thirties, at least, judging by the cropped hair and that trademark mustache.  In my eyes, however, he was even more beautiful than before.

I swallowed, and tried again to speak, but all I could muster was a soft, disbelieving "Freddie-?"

Then he pulled back. The expression in the black gems turned tragic. He disengaged my arms from around him, and traced my lips. And he turned around, and started walking the other way.

"Freddie, wait!" I called thickly, scrambling to my feet.  "Don't leave me!"

He hesitated long enough for me to fall to my knees in front of him.  Just as he had done the night of the dinner party, I bent down and kissed his feet, my hot tears falling freely upon the tops.  I felt him tugging me back upright, and he held me close against his chest, which shook a little as he, too, now shed a few tears.

"My prince, I'm begging you, please forgive me," I gasped.  "I love you, I didn't mean for any of that to hap-"

I might have said more, but he laid a finger against my lips, then, very gently, as though I were made of glass, he took my face in his hands, and kissed me. Overcome with emotion, I kissed him back, holding him as close as I could.

Eventually, Freddie's hold on me loosened, and he drew back one more time.  I didn't want him to go; I knew this was a dream, but I didn't care, I needed him, I couldn't go on without him.  

At last he opened his mouth to speak- and his words struck a frighteningly familiar chord.

With a sigh, he told me, "Do not lose hope.  It doesn't end today, it doesn't end tomorrow.  Just remember what I told you."  He stroked my cheek.  "There's always a plan."

I wanted to ask why Rudy's words were coming out of Freddie's mouth, among so many other things I wanted to say, but once more I had no words. 

Then he looked down, put his hand on my middle and kept it there for a moment before glancing back up, and with a smile, finally requesting, "Say hello to Danny for me."

My throat went dry as I numbly nodded.  "I will."

Freddie said no more.  At last he took his hand away, leaned forward, and Eskimo-kissed me.  And just as he began to pull away-

"Walk this WAY/ Walk this WAY/ Walk this WAY-"

Frantically I sat upright, looked around, but I was back in my bedroom, with my cell's ringtone crunching away on the night stand.  It is 3 AM, I thought to myself, wiping my face.  Why is anybody calling me at 3 AM on my birthday?

All the same, I reached for the phone and squinted at the screen.  I didn't know anyone with a number that had a "44" in front.  But I answered it anyway.  This had to be good.

"Mmmello?" I murmured through a yawn.

Silence on the other end.

"Hello?  Who's there?"

Another long pause, and then I heard a "...Hello?"

"Hi.  To whom am I speaking?"

"Uh... I'm calling for, um... Miss Samuels...?"

My blood chilled.  The voice was nasal- and clipped.  And very British.  But I dared not assume.  "I am she.  Julia Samuels is my name, and this is...?"

The hesitance in the voice gave way to awe.  "Julia. Oh- oh, my God."

"Mister, I'm not sure I-"

"Julia, it's me!  Remember?"

I couldn't stand it anymore.  "...Is... Your name isn't John, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is!"  He sounded ready to burst.

"And your last name- couldn't possibly be Deacon..."

"But it can!  And it is!"

I closed my eyes, covered my mouth, tried to remember to breathe.  "Deacy, is that you?"

"YES!" he cried.  "Oh, my GOD, it worked!"

"What did?"

"The number!  The number you gave me!  I almost thought I'd missed the deadline, but I remembered you Yanks write the date backwards, so I-"

"You still have that picture?" I bit my fingers to keep from screaming with newfound joy.

"I do!  I do!  Had it all these years stuck in a photo album, found it a week ago- oh, God, Julia, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice!"

"I can't believe you remembered!  I almost didn't!"

"Well, I may be old, but I'm not senile.  My mind isn't all gone yet," he quipped.

"Oh, John..." I gasped, hand rubbing my stomach.  "There's so much I have to tell you... but it's kind of late, I don't want to keep you up-"

"Julia, it's nine in the morning here- oh.  Bollocks.  I forgot.  You're all the way over there, what is it, two, three?"

"I don't mind staying up all night if it means I'm talking to you," I declared.  My heart, so deeply drowned in its own sorrow, seemed to lift a little with every moment I spent hearing John's older but still sweet voice.  "The only one it might possibly bother is Danny, but he'll be okay."

"Oh, good, then, I'll-" he checked himself.  "Who's Danny?"

"The baby."  And from that moment on, that became the little nipper's name. 

"Whose baby?"

"Mine."

I could almost hear his jaw drop.  "What?"

I fluffed the pillow behind me and sat back against it.  "John, you and I have forty years to go over.  I'm ready if you are."

John was still stuck on the last thing I said.  "What's this about you and a baby?"

I rubbed my stomach again.  It would be a long time before I felt anything, but I knew Danny was there, just like God was there, and John, and K, and Stuart... and that was just for starters.

Maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought.

"You'd better get comfortable, Deaks," I said.  "This will take a while..."