A Baby in the Oven

My stomach twisted into a balloon animal while my eyes darted around the kitchen. The oven was going, the salad was prepped, the potatoes were boiling. My heart started pounding again. I have to get this right, I thought, running through the checklist again.

The doorbell rang and I jumped like a horse had kicked me in the chest. I frantically wiped my hands on a towel and rushed to the door. Taking a deep breath and holding it, I turned the doorknob and pulled it open.

"Jenny!" I declared, smiling. I took half a step forward, beginning to open my arms but I froze as her icy glare stopped my heart.

She stepped past me without a word leaving me to close the door while she took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Oh," I said. "Dinner won't be ready for another thirty minutes or so. Sorry."

She rolled her eyes, her 4-month pregnancy belly barely showing under her loose shirt.

After getting her pregnant I had been sure it was over. She had immediately stopped responding to my messages. It was true, I hadn't really planned on being a father, but I wasn't so vehemently against it that I wanted her and her baby bump out of my life.

But it was our mutual friend Alice who had opened my eyes.

"Oh," she'd said. "I guess you didn't realize?"

"Realize what?"

Her answer would echo in my mind for the rest of my life, "Jenny is a witch."

"So?" I had asked.

"She probably just wanted the baby so she could eat it."

I went back to stirring the potatoes and called over my shoulder, "thank you for coming Jenny, it really means a lot to me."

"Thank Alice," she said curtly. "She begged me to come."

"Well, I appreciate it," I said. I set down the wooden spoon and turned to face her. "I'm hoping we can talk about..."

She cut me off. "No," she said. "It's over between us. I agreed to having dinner with you tonight for our friend, not for you. After this I never want to see you again. We're through John."

I felt as though I was in the grip of a fifty foot boa constrictor. Tears were being squeezed out from deep inside my heart, collecting on the surface of my eyes. I choked, unable to think of anything to say but unwilling to say nothing. "Jenny," I said softly, "surely you..." I knew better than to accuse her of not meaning it.

She turned away from me and looked out the window, her hands folded on the table and her long, soft hair falling down around her shoulders. I thought of all the times I had run my fingers through that silky, intoxicating hair. I thought of the feel of her supple lips on mine. A powerful, dull heartache swelled in my chest as the memories poured out onto my mind's stage making a mess I'd have to clean up later.

I embraced the silence, pulling the mashed potatoes off the stove and pouring them through a strainer. The oven timer still had twenty five minutes to go. My stomach, a tightly packed pretzel, churned in on itself. Would it even be worth it? All this effort for one meal in the hopes that I could win her back, and she was colder than the salad in my fridge.

Ramming the potato masher into the pot, I decided to try the one thing I'd told myself I wouldn't do.

"I know what you are," I said softly, almost as though talking to the potatoes.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I know you're a witch," I said, slightly more confidently.

She was quiet, and I refused to look back at her at first. I had always shied away from confrontation, but I was at a loss. Whatever reason she had for pushing me away I wanted to make sure that all of our cards were on the table before we ended things between us.

"And I want you to know that I don't care," I added, looking over my shoulder at her.

She was still facing the window, her face completely hidden from my view. Her silence was driving me crazy.

"Come on," I urged, trying not to sound like I was begging. "Won't you say something?"

A frantic knock at the door bounced off the tension in the room with dull thuds. I wasn't expecting any other company. I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious about the stuffy, acrid aroma wafting from my oven. My stomach churned nervously as I went to the door to see who it was. Through the peep hole I saw Alice pacing nervously on my porch and my gut sank.

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open. She nearly pounced on me, panicked energy radiating from her like heat from a flame. "John!" she cried, launching herself at the door and pushing her way inside. "I'm sorry," she blurted while I closed the door behind her. She took a few steps inside and paused, sniffing. "What is that smell?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

She rushed into my kitchen. I felt dizzy while my mind raced around in circles trying to figure out how this could be resolved. "Alice," I began, "you don't want to..."

Pausing at the oven she looked at me sternly. "Did you talk to my neighbor, the one who just had a baby recently?"

"Alice," I said again, my tone firm. "Come over here. We need to talk about this..."

She turned to the oven and pulled it open a crack, letting out a bloodcurdling scream. The oven door slammed shut again and she stumbled back holding her mouth tightly with both hands. Her eyes darted to me and back to the oven, her chest heaving rapidly.

"What have you done?" she gasped through her hands.

I looked at Jenny whose back was still turned to me. Her shoulders trembled and I may have heard her sniffling but my mind was a chaotic chorus of overstimulation.

Alice's eyes were bulging with fear. I held my hands up and spoke softly. "Alice, we need to talk about this."

She shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. "I didn't want to believe it," she whispered, still holding her mouth.

I caught a black and white car pulling up in front of the house out the corner of my eye. My chest was pounding, survival instincts clouding any reasonable thoughts that may have been swirling around in my head. "What did you do?" I asked as uniformed police officers made their way up my lawn.

"I..." Alice began, but she just kept backing away from a monster.

Me. I was the monster.

Jenny got up, her hair whipping around as she turned to me, tears running down her glistening cheeks. "John," she said weakly. "You shouldn't have..." She sounded... touched. She smiled, her eyes shimmering under a salty sea.

The door burst open, splintered shards of wooden doorframe flying into the house ahead of several armed officers with guns drawn. I froze, sure this was the end. I locked my eyes onto my true love, the woman I had done it all for. Her smile broadened and she raised her hands, fingers spread wide. Suddenly she threw them down and a blast of warmth washed over me sending a jolt up my spine while the air around me bent and rippled like waves in a pond emanating from a splash.

It happened so fast I had no time to react. Looking around the whole world felt still, as though the very vibrations of the atoms had ceased. The only thing that moved was Jenny as she slowly strode toward me, everyone else suspended in awkward poses and impossible states of balance.

"Did you really risk everything to make me a special meal?" she asked softly.

I nodded in bewilderment.

"I don't want to hurt you or our baby," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder.

"I'm not afraid," I breathed, pulling her in closer, relishing her soft warmth.

She chuckled. "Yes you are, I can feel you trembling."

I squeezed harder. "As long as I have you I have nothing to fear."

"Me," she sighed. "You should be afraid of me."