|The Small Kind of Problem
Author: BenedictedCumberbabe221 PM
With the morning from hell, Megan doesn't think it can get any worse, but after a wave of sickness hits her, she realizes that it most certainly can. Meter! Hope you enjoy it, reviews most welcome! Much love MERated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Drama - Megan H. & Peter D. - Chapters: 8 - Words: 9,961 - Reviews: 50 - Favs: 20 - Follows: 34 - Updated: 11-05-12 - Published: 07-29-12 - id: 8371681
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
'Mom. Mom. MOM!'
Megan squealed as she was rudely awoken from her slumber. At the door of her bedroom, stood Lacey, wearing her school uniform, pure fury on her face. As the morning dawned on the weary medical examiner, she cursed. A glance at the clock caused her to curse again.
'Sorry Lace!' she yawned as she hopped out of bed, mustering energy she didn't even think was in her. 'Quick, unlock the car.'
'Mom, you are getting changed, right?'
'Yep. Just get into the car. Spit spot!'
Lacey took the keys grumbling as she left the apartment. Megan checked her phone - 3 missed calls from Bud, 2 texts from Peter. Great. She threw on a silk dressing gown, and hurried out of the apartment. She disregarded the look of horror plastering Lacey's face.
'Mom! You said you were getting changed!'
'I did; into my dressing gown,' she smiled without humour as she accelerated.
'You're so embarrassing. You can't drop me off at school in your pyjamas!'
'What? Nobody's gonna' see me, would you rather be late?'
Lacey gazed moodily out of the car window. When they arrived at her school, Megan said a fleeting goodbye with a peck on the cheek, before zooming back down the road.
Why hadn't the alarm awoken her? Maybe she hadn't put it on. She'd found herself coming home unusually exhausted recently, but not until now had she slept in.
Back in the flat, she pulled on a white shirt with her black skirt. Applied her mascara and lipstick, styled her hair. She slid into a pair of red heels; she waddled back out of the door for the second time in fifteen minutes, rifling through her bag for her cell. It wasn't until she locked the apartment door, she recalled putting it on the tabletop in the kitchen. 'Brilliant!' she articulated, working the key into the slot. She retrieved her cell, scurried out, locked the door. In the car, her phone trilled to life. Caller ID showed Peter Dunlop.
'Hey, sweetie,' she grinned, acting coy.
'Afternoon beautiful,' he replied, sarcastically. 'Just to let you know, because we couldn't get hold of you this morning, the cadaver's already been transported to the morgue.'
'Thank you. I'll be there in two minutes.'
'What was up this morning?'
'Alarm clock nonperformance,' Megan replied grumpily. 'Lacey nearly killed me.' Peter chuckled; to which Megan reacted by melting into her chair. She loved his laugh.
'See you at work Peter,' she smiled as she terminated the call.
Megan felt lethargic and for once in her career, she wanted to hold off the autopsy. She slumped in her office chair, gazing out at the golden Philedelphia morning. The array of buildings glinted blindingly. She took a sip of her coffee, and scalded her tongue.
'Ouch!' She flapped her hands at her mouth. 'Bloody morning...' she grumbled, as movement beyond the glass panes of her office caught her eye. Ethan was chuckling at her predicament with the coffee. She shot him a deathly look, and his face clouded in fear. He held up a hand with a slight wave before scuttling off.
She held her head as it began to ache. 'What's wrong with me today?'
Peter was leaning on the door frame, gazing at her gleefully.
She sat back in her chair, smiling, biting her lip. He stepped into her office, leant over and they shared a kiss.
'Wow Megan, you must be tired to come in like that,' he gestured to her shirt. Her head snapped down; her top had been buttoned up wrong, leaving a gaping hole revealing her bra.
'Oh God. Not my day today.'
'I'm unusually lethargic, my head's decided to unleash unbearable pain, I burnt my tongue on my coffee, which tastes disgusting and now I've been enlightened to the fact, I crawled into work with my lingerie on show! I know I'm a woman, but there is still only so much I can take!'
'Come on. Maybe finding a killer might boost your spirits.' Peter grasped her hand, and she followed him toward the morgue.
'He was found stabbed in his flat by his girlfriend this morning,' Peter filled her in. 'Bud's questioning her now.'
'Let's get to work,' Megan mumbled, as she clipped back her hair. Peter drew the cover back, revealing a male, mid-twenties at least. Megan suddenly felt a wave of nausea. She leant against the gurney, breathing deeply. Peter stared at her worriedly. Another convulsion of sickness, and without an explanation for Peter, she hobbled off in her heels, in the direction of the toilets.
Once she'd finished vomiting she sat with her back against the toilet door. Breathing. She awaited another surge of sickness but it didn't come. So she flushed away her stomach rejections, and exited the cubicle. The mirror revealed a pale, sickly version of herself, her eyes dark. She looked a mess.
'Probably from the Chinese last night,' she thought, as she washed her hands. She was about to leave the toilets when she saw the toiletry machine, and it hit her with such shock she tumbled into the toilet again, to cough up what could possibly remain in her stomach.
It'd been 8 weeks. She hadn't realised. And now, realising that she recognised all the symptoms. She'd gotten them with Lacey. She held her stomach.
She was pregnant.
New story. Please review, constructive criticism always welcome. Hope ypu enjoy it, and shall update as soon as I can...if people are wanting me to update. Thanks for reading. Much love ~ME
Next chapter: What will she do, and what will she tell the father? (: