Cold Feet

Date/Timing: 18 Mar 2003
Setting: Jiang home (Angela's friends); Newcastle, Australia
ANSK-ifying Tielan's Tumblr fic
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== Second try ==
Belle folds in half, addresses Angie's stomach, "What do you think, Josh? Doesn't your mummy look /gorgeous?"
Angie swats at her, nearly tipping off the footstool. "His name /won't be Josh," she declares, finding her balance.
"Then what /will it be, hmm?"
"Don't know yet."
"What about the dress?" prompts Lil. "How's the fit?"
Angie picks at a seam. "It's a little snug? Across the—" Gestures to her middle.
"Stop growing so fast, Tommy!"
"Not that, either."
Lil rolls her eyes, jots a note for the seamstress.
"Billy?"
"Oh hell no!"
"Is the tummy the only problem, Ange?"
"Uh, now that you mention it, it's getting tight across the chest, too."
Belle snickers.
Angie scowls.
Lil makes another note.
"I wish Mum would've let me pick my own dress. Wouldn't have to do this fitting crap."
"If she had, she wouldn't be your mum."
Lil snorts.
Angie sighs.
"Yea, leave it to Elisabeth Martijn to arrange the hugest clusterfuck of a wedding this side of royalty for her beloved daughter and little Benji," drawls Belle.
Angie's laugh twists into a sob.
"Oh dear." Lil takes her hand, guides her down and into to a chair.
Belle drapes something expendable between the dress and the tears while Lil presses a wad of tissues into her hand.
Angie blows her nose with a /honk. 
"It's okay, sweetheart," coos Lil.
"I'm an idiot. And a waterfall."
"You're pregnant."
"I should've just gone to the doctor and taken care of it; I mean, that would've been the smart thing to do. I should never have told Herc. I should've known he'd ...."
"He wouldn't be Herc if he didn't offer to do the 'honourable' thing. It's part of why you like him," Belle points out.
"You don't have to do this, you know." Lil trades gross tissues for fresh ones. "If you want to back out, back out. There're lots of options these days—"
"But—my mum—"
"It's not her place to pick your husband."
"But she won't help /at /all if we don't ...." Angie dabs at her eyes.
"If you really don't want to marry him, call it off. Your mum will surely get over her issues by the time the baby comes."
Angie shakes her head, starts tearing tissues into confetti.
"Have you /met her mum?"
"Annabelle ...."
Belle sighs, hands over some intact tissue. "Have you talked your cold feet over with him?"
"Yes. Sort of. No. I mean, we both know how this could go wrong. Neither of us had happy families growing up." Wipes her nose.
"There's no rule that says you have to repeat your parents' mistakes."
"Yea, we get to make our own." Runs a hand over the baby bump slowly taking over her lap.
"It won't be easy, but your family will be as happy as you're willing to work to make it."
"No fate but what we make for ourselves," mutters Angie.
"You could just, you know, live in sin," Belle mock-whispers, "but don't tell Helen or Bets I said that."
Angie snorts with laughter. Then her mobile sings and she hiccups and fumbles—
Belle nabs it from Angie's purse, passes it over.
"Oh, fuck—it's him. Sorry. I didn't—uh ... what do I say?"
"'Hi' usually works," says Lil, patting Angie's knee and standing.
Angie takes a deep breath and accepts the call. "Hey, Herc."
""Hey. I was ju—are you okay?""
"I'm fine. I'm just—hormones," she sighs.
""Oh."" A beat. ""Right.""
She can /hear him blush and smiles.
""If you—I mean, I can come down and—but if you'd—""
"I'd love for you to come get me."
""Oh, cool, cool. Address?""
"Valerie's. On the strip?"
""Gotcha. I'll be there in fifteen.""
"Thanks." Angie wipes her eyes again.
""Sure. Love you.""
Angie melts a little. "Ditto."
The call disconnects and Angie drops the mobile in the neighbourhood of her bag.
"Well, he's not quite Patrick Swayze," says Belle, "but then you're no Demi Moore, either."
Angie huffs.
Belle slides an arm around her shoulder and hugs. "If you want out, we're here. If you want to do this, we're here. Right, Mum?"
"Right," assures Lil.
"And, you know, you never know about the future. You might end up with seven anklebiters. That sing. Like the Von Trapps."
"Their mother died and their dad married the nanny."
"I'm pretty sure that's /The Nanny."
"Can you see Herc marrying Fran Fine?" laughs Lil. "Seriously? Pick a better example."
"Don't know any."
"What? All that TV and that's the best you can do?" teases Angie.
Belle rolls her eyes, but she's laughing, too.
Angie winces.
"You okay?"
"He kicked me!"
Belle sparkles—"Lemme feel!"—presses a palm to Angie's side.
Nothing.
"C'mon, Danny, kick Auntie Belle."
"His name isn't gonna be—"
/Jab!
Angie hisses.
"I felt it! Good job, Nicky!"
"I'm /not naming him that!"
"Then at least tell me something that's in the running!"
"No."
Pre-baby rolls over, stretches—elbows her bladder.
Angie heaves herself to her feet.
"What's—"
"Charlie moved! Gotta pee!" Angie tosses over her shoulder as she flees to the washroom.
"Wait for me! I gotta help!" calls Belle, flying in pursuit.
== First try ==
Lil perches on the sofa's arm. "Okay. It's not the wedding you wanted."
"/Definitely not that way your mum's planning it," drawls Belle, sitting beside Angie. "Leave it to Elisabeth Martijn to arrange the hugest clusterfuck of a wedding this side of royalty."
Angie laughs over a sob.
Helen marches in, stuffs a box of tissues into Angie's hands.
"Thanks." Tucks it next to herself.
Helen sniffs, marches out.
"Ignore her."
"She's right, though." Angie blows her nose with a /honk. "I'm an idiot. And a waterfall."
"You're pregnant," says Lil with the awesome motherly gentleness Angie needs right now.
"I should've just gone to the doctor and taken care of it; I mean, that would've been the smart thing to do." Looks down at the baby bump slowly taking over her lap. "I should never have told Herc. I should've /known he'd ...."
"He wouldn't be Herc if he didn't offer to do the 'honourable' thing. It's part of why you like him," Belle points out.
"You don't have to do this, you know." Lil pulls up a handful of tissues, presses them into Angie's hand. "If you want to back out, back out. There're lots of options these days—" 
"But—my mum—"
"It's not her place to pick your husband—"
"Can we get that in writing?" yells Helen from her room down the hallway.
Belle scowls, hollers back, "Shut your face and your door!"
The door doesn't quite slam.
Angie smiles, dab at her eyes.
"Why can't we disown her?"
Lil ignores Belle, focuses on Angie. "If you really don't want to marry him, call it off. Yes, there'll be financial consequences—"
"Can't /believe she'll only help if you go through with this."
Angie sniffles anew.
Lil gives Belle a Look. "Sure, your mum will be angry, but I'd rather my girls were pregnant and unwed than married and unhappy."
Belle sniffs. "Have you met /her mum?"
"Annabelle ...."
Belle sighs, nudges Angie's shoulder. "Have you talked your cold feet over with him?"
"Yes. Sort of. No. I mean, we both know how this could go wrong. Neither of us had happy families growing up." Wipes her nose. "Don't kids usually repeat their parents' patterns?"
"There's no rule that says you have to," Lil says with conviction. "It won't be easy for either of you, but your family will be as happy as you're willing to work to make it."
"No fate but what we make for ourselves," mutters Angie.
"You could just, you know, live in sin," Belle mock-whispers, "but don't tell Helen—or Bets—I said that."
Angie snorts with laughter. Then her mobile sings and she hiccups and fumbles—
Belle nabs it, passes it over.
"Oh, fuck—it's him. Sorry. I didn't—uh ... what do I say?"
"'Hi' usually works," says Lil, patting Angie's knee and standing.
Angie takes a deep breath and accepts the call. "Hey, Herc."
""Hey. I was ju—are you okay?""
"I'm fine. I'm just—crying." she sighs.
""If you—I mean, I can come down and—""
"No! You don't need to do that. It's hormones."
""Oh."" A beat. ""Right.""
She can /hear him blush and smiles
""So, uh, are the Jiangs treating you alright?""
"They're great. We were just talking and making fun of Bets and Helen."
Belle makes a face.
""Oh, cool, cool."" Another pause while Herc makes up his mind. ""If you change your mind ....""
"It's okay. I'm good. Just enjoy your evening."
""Sure. Love you.""
Angie melts a little. "Ditto."
The call disconnects and Angie tucks the mobile away.
"Well, he's not quite Patrick Swayze," says Belle, "but then you're no Demi Moore, either."
Angie huffs.
Belle slides an arm around her shoulder and hugs. "If you want out, we're here. If you want to do this, we're here. Right, Mum?"
"Right," assures Lil.
"And, you know, you never know about the future. You might end up with seven anklebiters. That sing. Like the Von Trapps."
"Their mother died and their dad married the nanny."
"I'm pretty sure that's /The Nanny."
"Can you see Herc marrying Fran Fine?" laughs Lil. "Seriously? Pick a better example."
"Don't know any." Belle flops back. "Anyway, tomorrow we eat, drink, and make merry, because next week yoooou're going to the chapel and yoooou're gonna get maaaarried~!"
Angie pulls a cushion from behind her back and whacks Belle with it.
Belle giggles, seizes her own cushion without stopping the song, and they bop each other on the head between wheezed lyrics for the next five minutes.
By the time Belle /completely runs out of air (and song), Angie's in a better mood.
"Nothing like sleep-over fun to raise spirits."
Angie laughs.
Something in her insides shifts and Angela heaves herself to her feet.
"You o—"
"Baby moved! Gotta pee!" Angie tosses over her shoulder as she flees to the washroom.
Belle and Lil's laughter follows her down the hall.
His Brother's Girl | Bells | Cold Feet | Perfect
Category:Ficlet
Category:Newcastle (setting)
Category:Angela
Category:Angela's POV
Category:Angela (ficlet)
Category:Lil
Category:Lil (ficlet)
Category:Belle
Category:Belle (ficlet)
Category:Helen
Category:Helen (ficlet)
Category:Herc
Category:Herc (ficlet)
Category:Elisabeth (mention)
Category:Betsy (mention)
Category:Ficlets with images
Category:Ghost (reference)
Category:The Nanny (reference)
Category:The Sound of Music (reference)
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