This Too Shall Pass

Chapter 11

Annabelle's tears went from soft breathing to heavy sobs as she watches her dads video. I set Bambi down on the floor and walk over to her.

"Annabelle? Whats wrong?" I ask.

She says nothing. Just hands me a small pink stick.

I take it, confused, but when I look down the sight before me is happy and scary at the same time. A small blue plus sign rests dead center on the small palette. Annabelle's face is red and puffy as she stares at my awestruck face.

"Oh my god...." I whisper. "What are we going to tell Mark and Amy?"

Annabelle just buries her face In her hands and shakes her head slowly. I pull her into a hug and breathe in her scent. Flowers and happiness. No room for sadness and anger.

Or maybe there is?

I take Annabelle's hand and pull her up to look at me.

"Annabelle. Mark is home. We're telling them as soon as Amy gets home. I'll be there with you. I'll help you. Mark will understand. Amy is who I'm worried about." I say. She nods slowly and I hug her again. I pocket the rest and take Bambi and Bean's collars to lead them downstairs and outside. They instantly start wrestling on the deck and I smile.

"Hey there Claire Bear." Mark says from the other side of the room, startling me.

"Oh! Hey, I thought you were at the office still." I reply with a smile, hoping her can't see the lies behind my eyes.

She shakes his head, "Nah. On hiatus remember?"

I face palm. "Right! Sorry! Force of habit!" I laugh. He smiles and ruffles my hair. Then checks the time. "Oh, you and Annabelle have hair appointments in an hour." He says. I nod and run upstairs, hoping to get Annabelle to calm down before we have to go.

I throw myself up the steps and push open the door to see Annabelle applying makeup but doing a horrible job because her makeup is smearing from her tears.

I offer to help and she nods. I tell her abou the hair appointment and she glances at her split ends and faded orange tips and nods eagerly despite the tears that continue to flow as I use a wipe to wash away the smudges left from her previous attempt.

Eventually I give up on applying her makeup because it just streak and contorts from the salty water streaming from her chocolate brown eyes and excise to brush her hair because it calms her down. I run the brush through her hair again and again until it is silky smooth and shining. Annabelle has stopped crying but her breaths are still shaky. Finally she is able to dab some foundation in her face, some eyeliner and mascara and a small bit of blush and change into a bright blue sweater and black leggings.

Mark yells up saying we only have 5 minutes until we have to go. I hurry to throw on a pair of jeans and a tye-dye t-shirt and drag a comb through my hair a few times before running downstairs, grabbing my shoes and running outside onto the drive way still in my socks, Annabelle a few paces in front of me. I pull on my black converse as Mark starts the car and pulls out. Annabelle takes a shaky breath and opens her mouth. I know what's she's going to do and I don't stop her.

Mark deserves to know his daughter is pregnant.