Spaghetti Surprise

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the clock on the wall. The hands ticked by casually and I knew I had to give him a call. I slowly tipped the glass of sparkling wine I'd poured for myself down the sink, the bubbles fizzing as they swirled down the drain. My insides twisted, like a snake tying itself in knots as I picked up the phone. My thumb hovered over his name for a second too long and I bottled it. With a heavy sigh, I strolled into the living room, sitting on the sofa. The cool chestnut brown leather felt lovely on my bare legs and the sun shone brightly through the window, reflecting a multicolour sparkle around the room as the light bounced off the crystals from the chandelier. I chewed on my thumb nail, my head swirling with a thousand thoughts a second. Glancing at my phone, I saw the time was now three in the afternoon and I knew I had to call him. 

I didn't give myself time to think about it, I just tapped on his name. The phone rang for what felt like an hour, eventually his deep husky voice came through the speaker. "Hello Ella, how are you doing?" He asked, probably wondering why I was calling. We hadn't seen each other in around a month. We'd had a few dates, but both had been too busy to meet up recently. We'd met through a mutual friend at a bbq and instantly hit it off. "Hey Oliver, I just wondered if you fancied coming round for dinner tonight. I'm doing Spaghetti Bolognese. It's been a while," I invited, crossing my fingers. He went silent for a second and I twisted hair round my finger, my leg shaking nervously. If he said no, I'd have to discuss this over the phone and it would be much better in person. "That sounds good, I'll be round at six. See you then, beautiful." He replied. I said goodbye and cut the phone off.

I got a shower, standing under the water for a while as it ran down my body, cooling me from the scorching day. After, I pulled on a striped poppy red and white dress, the cotton material flowing round my knees. I left my hair down, it hung in brunette curls down my back, then put on some mascara and lipstick which matched the dress. Happy that I looked presentable, I wondered back downstairs to the kitchen, making sure I had all the ingredients in. I prepped the onion, the smell assaulting my nostrils and stinging my eyes as the blade of the knife sliced through the layers. Next was the bell pepper. After deseeding, I cut it into chunks, the crunch as the knife went through the pepper making my stomach churn. I gazed over at the clock which was hung on the wall above the tiny mahogany dining table. It was five thirty and I knew Oliver would be here soon. I clicked the gas on and it lit with a whoosh, a hiss supplying the flames. After heating the pan and frying off the onion and bell pepper, I added the mince meat followed by the tinned chopped tomatoes. Adding herbs and salt for taste, the sauce bubbled away happily. Rifling through the cupboards, I realised I didn't have any spaghetti in. "Crap." I muttered to nobody, praying to a god I didn’t believe in, asking that I at least have pasta somewhere in the cupboards. Crammed at the back behind the basmati rice was half a bag of fusilli. It wasn't spaghetti, but it would do. I rammed everything back into the cupboards and slammed the doors shut before anything had chance to fall out. The doorbell buzzed and I went through the living room to answer the door. As I passed the mirror above the mantelpiece, I checked to make sure I still looked okay. The person in the reflection didn't look like the usual bubbly person I was, she looked more like a nervous school girl who had bad news to break to her parents. 

As I opened the door, Oliver was leaning on the door frame, the dimples from his smile barely visible under his stubble. His sea blue eyes crinkled at the corners and his dark wavy hair was swept to the side. Sparks of electricity crackled across my skin at the sight of him. My insides did summersaults as I wondered if he would still be smiling at me like that on his way out after dinner. "Hey, come in," I offered, opening the door wide. I swallowed, my mouth as dry as the desert, my throat rubbing like sandpaper. I led Oliver into the kitchen and he sat at the dining table. "Want a cider?" I asked, opening the fridge door, knowing he wouldn't refuse. "Sure," he replied, not talking much. He must have picked up on my mood, I pondered, as I cracked open the cider. I placed it in front of him, beads of water slid lazily down the can, as condensation formed in the heat. I wiped off the droplets on my hand and put on a pan of water to boil. "So, how are things?" I asked as I scraped the bottom of the Bolognese with a wooden spoon, stirring the stuck pieces back into the sauce. I tried it, the tang from the tomatoes just right, the mince crumbling in my mouth. "Things are great, the restaurant has kept me busy. Sorry you've not heard from me. I've had a lot of stuff going on," he responded, looking down at his hands as his fingers clenched together on the table. I felt like he wanted to go on. "That's good. Nothing too stressful?" I probed, the water started to bubble so I slowly tipped in the pasta, the water going cloudy for a second as it absorbed the twisted pieces, thousands of tiny bubbles simmering on the surface. He didn't reply straight away so I looked over at him, he was slumped over staring at his hands. Oliver cleared his throat and looked over at me. I sat down leaving the food to cook and reached across the table to hold his hands. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," I whispered, my heart racing. "No, I don't mind. Jakey boy passed away a few weeks ago, he was an old dog but it was still a shock. Then Hayley turned up at my place the other day begging me to take her back," he mumbled the last part, looking at me with his piercing blue eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. Jake was his chocolate cocker spaniel, the pain in his eyes showed me how much he meant to him. I could feel my heart beating, sure he would be able to hear it if it beat any faster. Hayley is his ex, they had been trying for a baby, then he found out she had been cheating. "I'm so sorry Ollie. What did you say to Hayley?" I held my breath for his reply, wondering if he had only come tonight to let me know this wasn't going anywhere. Tears prickled the back of my eyes but I wouldn't let them fall. "I told her to leave me alone. I'm not interested, I gave her my heart and she stomped all over it like it meant nothing. I would never trust her." He answered and I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked away as a tear escaped, knowing I was about to add to his problems.

Suddenly, a hiss came from the stove and I jumped up realising the water from the pasta had over boiled. It gave me an excuse to get up and look away from Oliver while I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I caught a piece of pasta on a spoon and blew on it so I could test if it was cooked. Satisfied, I dumped the pasta in a colander, the water draining into the sink. I spooned over the Bolognese after plating up the pasta and it was ready to be served. Walking back to the table, I put down our plates. "Tastes great," Oliver approved as he dug in, I sat back down moving the food around my plate, not really in the mood for eating. "Everything okay?" Oliver asked when he realised I'd barely eaten any. His fork hovered over his plate as he waited for my reply. There wasn't a good time to tell him so I jumped at the opportunity before I changed my mind. "I have something I need to tell you." I gazed down at my plate, not able to look at his reaction. 

I didn't know how to say it so I decided to show him. Grabbing my bag from the living room, I handed him the stick and he looked down in shock. "You're pregnant," he stated, looking from the stick, to me, back to the stick again. "Y-yeah," I stuttered, not sure what I expected him to say. I slipped back into my chair, wringing my clammy hands together and looked at him. He was watching me with a wary look in his eye. "I guess this means this isn't going anywhere?" He questioned and nervous laughter spilled from my lips. "Well I hope so. You're the only person I've slept with since my break up with Mike over a year ago," I paused trying to gauge his reaction. Lines creased his forehead, then it went smooth as realisation hit. He stood up and pulled me into a hug, planting a kiss on my lips. I pulled back in surprise, I was expecting him to be annoyed, angry even. I never expected him to be happy about it. "So, what do we do now?" I asked as I let the tears fall free, now the secret was out. "Hayley and I were trying for a baby for so long, it sucked the joy out of our relationship. I always thought I was the problem, that I would never have children. We will make a plan, but first, we'll eat." He wiped the tears from my eyes then sat back down. Relief washed over me, I wasn't in this on my own, we were going to figure it out together. I stabbed some pasta on my fork and took a bite, a smile spreading across my face for the first time today. Everything was going to be okay.