𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

to whom it may concern: come get your wife

[📟 LOCATION.] ... Iron Lion Base, Day 16 of the Supply Voyage.

[📽️STATUS.] ... Sunny skies, light breeze, minor hormonal hurricane.

Brenda stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips and dark circles under her eyes.

"She threw a ladle at me."

Sonya blinked. "A ladle?"

"Yes," Brenda said. "Because I said the soup was nice. Apparently that's too vague and I lack emotional depth."

Teresa rubbed her temple. "She made me reorganize the med supplies by scent. Then cried because the lavender and chamomile weren't 'getting along.'"

Nancy marched in with a cold compress over one shoulder. "She told me I was neglecting her unborn child because I didn't boil the water for her tea exactly four minutes."

"Four minutes?" Thèrèse repeated, stunned.

"Exactly. She was holding a stopwatch."

Harriet flopped into a chair. "I tried to read to her. Read. She said my voice was 'too square' and made the baby uncomfortable."

Everyone stared at her.

"That doesn't even make sense," said Sonya.

"I know," Harriet groaned. "She started sobbing and told me to apologize to Matt for ruining his unborn child's ears."

Brenda slammed the walkie-talkie down on the table.

"Matt. Come in. Please. For the love of everything holy. Your wife is out here hexing our morale."

Static.

Teresa frowned. "Didn't they throw the radio into the ocean after the eighth call?"

Nancy muttered, "Gally yeeted it after Vicky's fourth message that said 'tell my husband his spawn kicked me in the liver.'"

Just then, Bea — sweet, gentle Bea — peeked around the corner holding a tray of sliced fruit.

"I brought papaya slices," she offered quietly.

"Bless you," the entire group sighed.

"She said she misses Matt so much, she can smell his pillow. And then she screamed because she couldn't remember his exact cologne," Bea said softly. "Then she said, and I quote, 'I can't believe I married a man who leaves me for tuna and crates.'"

There was a long silence.

Thèrèse blinked. "I thought he left for medicine and solar batteries."

Brenda looked skyward. "Doesn't matter. According to her, he chose crates over love."

From the kitchen: "WHO TOUCHED MY CRACKERS?! THE BABY WANTS THE ROUND ONES!"

Everyone flinched.

"I need a break," Nancy whispered.

"I need a margarita," Sonya said.

"I need Matt to get his rebel-turned-husband self back before I throw myself into the sea," Teresa muttered.

Brenda hit the walkie one last time. "Matt. Your wife is a goddess. A beautiful, terrifying goddess. But she's eating our sanity one complaint at a time. We've all cried today. Come home. Please. Over."

From the kitchen again: "IS THAT WALKIE I HEAR?! GIVE IT TO ME! I'LL TELL HIM MYSELF!"

The girls screamed and ran as the door flung open, revealing a very pregnant Vicky wielding a tea mug and pure wrath.

Harriet ducked. "Abort mission! She's mobile!"

Bea whispered a prayer and gently placed the papaya tray on the floor like a peace offering.

Brenda, as she bolted past Sonya, shouted:

"THIS IS WHY PIRATES NEVER MARRIED!"