Bella Donna

Prologue

Bella Donna

AN: This was the end result of one too many glasses of wine

Prologue

Four years ago

"Okay Astrid you can do this," She said to herself as she stood on the front porch of her house with a piece of paper tightly held in her right hand. Nerves were getting to her more and more as bile threatened to make its way up her throat.

With one last exhale she opened the door to her home, feeling as if she was walking into the Hunger Games as a tribute. Not the volunteer type either.

"Astrid is that you?" Her mother's questioning voice could be heard from the kitchen.

"Yeah Mom," Astrid answered a bit hesitantly. She closed the front door and walked past the living room where her dad was watching Hockey. In the kitchen she found her mother loading up the dishwasher with dirty plates and several greasy pots and pans from the lunch she'd just made.

"Mom..." She uttered hesitantly. "Uhm... I have something to tell you and Dad."

"Sure Astrid. Could you just set the table? You can tell us during lunch." Her mother answered.

"Actually, mom... it's really important. I really... really need to tell you guys now."

"This isn't about your grandma trying to force you to try grape jam again is it?" Her mother asked and Astrid made a face that showed her aversion.

"Mom this is serious,"

"Okay honey," She said before yelling "HANK COME TO THE KITCHEN!"

"Now?!" Came the reply from the living room.

"Yes now!"

"But it's just getting good!"

"Get your behind in here or all you will be eating is apples for a week!" Her mother threatened. Astrid's father, knowing his wife would make good on the threat begrudgingly walked into the kitchen to see his daughter standing there nervously and his wife holding a greasy cast iron skillet.

"So?" Astrid's father asked a bit annoyed that he'd been interrupted.

"Our daughter has some news that can't wait,"

All eyes turned towards Astrid as she gave a nervous gulp before ripping off the bandage. "Mom... dad... now don't freak..." Astrid started while trying to uncrumple the letter her doctor had given her with the test results. "I'm pregnant," She uttered. She expected screaming, shouting, and threats of disembowelment of the guy that knocked her up. Not stone-cold silence. Her father blinked at her owlishly, his mouth trying to form words. Meanwhile, the cast iron pan had slipped out of her mother's grip, hit the rim of the dishwasher, and fell on her bare foot.

"MOTHERF-" Her mom howled in pain and Astrid winched. This was going to be a long discussion.