Displaced

Chevelle - Sixty-Five

Timber stuck his finger in my cupcake batter and licked it. How dare he defile my food with his dirty hands.

"Excuse me!" I pushed him away, so he couldn't ruin it even more. Not unless he had magic spit from being a celebrity. Doubtful. He was right, once I witnessed the belches and farts, all of that sparkle disappeared.

He held up his hands. "I'm testing the taste. It's an important rule to all forms of cooking to know what you're making. Especially since you claim this is a scratch recipe you found."

"It is. Why would I lie about that?" I fiddled with my hands in front of me, nervously, just waiting for the critique. He didn't say anything and went back to helping me find the cupcake pans.

I let out my most loud and aggravated sounding sigh.

"What?" he asked.

"Are they going to be good?"

He scrunched up his nose. Oh god, they were awful. Poor Wicken would be wishing he was eating dog food. I wasted my time.

Timber must have sensed my anxiety because he nudged me in the side. "They're great. I'm impressed. I'll make frosting. What color do you want? Pink? Blue?"

"Purple."

"Purple?"

"Makes sense to me." I shrugged.

He gave me a thumbs-up. "How about purple, green and orange? Those are pretty neutral colors."

"I like that." I nodded.

"I'll make letters out of sugar too!"

"You're kind of scaring me..." And I had no idea that was even possible.

Timber rolled those pretty blue-green eyes of his and pushed out his lower lip. "There is nothing scary about excitement. I just can't believe you're going to wait until tomorrow to give them to him. You have the patience of a saint."

"Thanks to you, darling," I teased. The truth was, I wanted to see Wicken now, but I needed to process before I dropped the bomb that we were going to be having a baby together.

Yeah, a baby. I'll be honest, I didn't want to be a mom. For a week, I suspected something was going on. Maybe I should have told him as soon as I began to wonder. I guess I didn't want to worry him unnecessarily until I knew for sure. He had more than enough to deal with as it was. Or I was in denial. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

I didn't tell Timber either, not until after I got confirmation from a doctor. After my time with Wicken at the lagoon, I went to my appointment. I hadn't intended on telling Timber before telling Wicken. I'd been shaken up ever since I saw the ultrasound with the teenie-tiny blip of a life form on it, hearing a heartbeat. It was too much to handle. The moment I walked into the door and saw him, I started crying and there was no way I could hold back. He was the closest thing to family that I had. My mom was on Earth, so he would have to do.

The cupcakes had been his idea - Timber, Mr. Positive - and they helped. Seeing the brighter side of the situation helped. Baking was proving to be a lot more therapeutic than I had anticipated. Wicken would get the cupcakes - and the news - first thing in the morning. Our time together was so limited as it was. We needed as much of it as possible. Going down right away would only give us a handful of minutes, and I couldn't do that to him: give him the news and then leave, letting him stew over it.

Timber whipped up the frosting in a bowl, doing it by hand and whisking like a pro. There was a knock on the door. "I got it. It's probably Paul checking up on Vance."