Chapter III: The Seeds of Change

I reported the next morning like normal, but once again found myself rushing out of the little wagon to vomit. Cornelia was standing there taking a smoke break, and she looked at me askance. “You okay?” she asked. I nodded, but before I could reply another bout of illness shut me up. Cornelia made a noise of disgust and flicked her cigarette into the bushes. “God, go home. I swear, if you make me sick...” I heard her muttering as she went back inside. Beau came out next and immediately came to stand next to me, pulling my long hair up out of my face. “Thanks,” I said weakly.

“Yep,” he replied. “You alright now?”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” I stood up. “Hey, why don't you take a couple days off, make sure you're not coming down with something,” he suggested. “Not like we're doing a whole lot of business right now anyway. Things tend to pick up more around the new year. People wondering what to make for resolutions and such.” He chuckled.

I nodded, feeling the nausea creeping up on me again. “I think I'll do that. Thanks,” I muttered. I had nothing in the wagon to collect so I started walking for home.

“Just give me a call if you need anything!” Beau called after me. I waved, feeling too sick to yell back. I barely made it home before another bout of illness had me at the toilet. I went to bed for the rest of the morning, and by afternoon I felt better.

I checked the little fridge I had bought and discovered I was quite out of anything edible, and being as the only food I could conjure was apples, I figured I should probably stop by the grocery store while I was feeling better to stock up on some necessities. As I was walking in the store, a vision hit me, occupying my whole attention, as they normally do, so that I stood there, dumbly, holding a shopping basket and looking, I'm sure, quite foolish.

The vision was only momentary, and disjointed, as they often are, and when I came to, I blushed, realizing the cashier and several other people were looking at me funny as I stood there spacing with my empty basket. I meekly made my way into the aisles and picked up a few cans of food, all I can afford until I get paid, which was likely to be even longer of a wait now. After I had my food, I made my way to where they keep the pregnancy tests.

* * *

I'm pregnant.

I'm not sure how I feel about it exactly. Part of me I think is still in shock. And part of me is scared. Xander is, by his own profession, not a “family guy”, and I can barely afford to feed myself. I have no idea how I would take care of a little one. Yet...

Somehow, the pure wonder of knowing there is another life growing inside me, one that the Magic which flows through me conspired to put there, makes it all okay. Though I know it is only logical to be terrified and worried right now, all I can do is rub my belly and wonder at the little tell-tale fluttering feelings of the baby moving, even now.

I am, however, worried about one thing. I still have to tell Xander.

* * *

Thank the Magic! There truly are no coincidences! It has brought everything together for the good of me and my baby after all.

Xander called me again, but this time there were no adorably awkward overtures. His voice was sullen and he spoke quickly. “Moriah? Hey... uh, can I... can I come... stay with you? For a while?”

“Of course you can, you know that. But what's wrong?”

“I'll tell you when I get there,” he assured me. His van drove up in no time.

“Hey,” he greeted me, that sullen note still in his voice.

I smiled, and greeted him with a hug. He stepped into my arms and stood there for a minute, not moving. He was tense, I could feel his muscles trembling with nervous energy under my touch. When he spoke, his words were muffled against my shirt.

“My dad kicked me out. I got caught in a job and the police took me in. They let me go, but I have a court date scheduled for next week, and my dad came and picked me up, took me home, and told me to pack my stuff and get out.”

I bit my lip, nervous. I had been hoping to tell him my news, but this wasn't looking like a very good time to burden him with yet another trouble.

“Y'know what? It's good, though,” he said, straightening, and I noted the firm set of his jaw. I frowned, concerned.

“No, seriously,” he insisted. “I'm almost thirty, and I was still living at home with my parents. It's pathetic really. This'll be good. I'll get out from under my dad's thumb. I'll figure things out, maybe buy my own place. Well...” He looked at me apologetically. “Eventually, I mean. I might have to shack up with you for a while. I... is that...?”

I smiled spreading my hands to indicate my bare strip of land and the little shelter. “I don't have much, Xander, but everything I have is yours. You know that.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You are my angel,” he said, taking me in his arms. “What would I do without you?”

I looked away. “Xander,” I interrupted. “I have something I need to tell you. It wouldn't be right for me to keep it from you, especially now.”

“What's up?” he asked, dropping his arms.

“Xander,” I said, staring at the ground, afraid to look at his eyes. “I'm... I'm pregnant.”

I raised my eyes, dreading the reception my words would find, but to my surprise, he was looking at me with that same look of wonder and interest that had first filled me with love for him.

“You're pregnant?” he echoed. “Really?”

I half smiled, still unsure. “Yes, really.”

“And it's mine? I mean, well, you know, just to make sure?”

I nodded, a little insulted. I may be a gypsy, but that doesn't make me a whore.

“Well that's... that's great! Wow! I'm gonna be a dad!”

I felt tears of relief spring to my eyes as he said those words, and a bark of nervous laughter sprang out of me. He laughed too, and for nearly a full minute, we couldn't do anything else but laugh together, until tears were rolling down our cheeks.

When our laughter had died down, Xander reached out a hand hesitantly. “Can I... can I feel it?”

“Of course!” I said, taking his hand and pressing it to my belly. As if it knew who was making contact with it, the baby gave a little jolt, and Xander whooped, jumping. For five minutes straight, he sat there fussing over my growing baby bump like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

That night it was decided. Xander would move in with us. His mom, unable to make Xander's dad change his mind on kicking their son out, had at least given him a couple thousand dollars, along with her old van to pack all his stuff into. We sold the van, figuring we could both carpool to work, and began work on a real house. “No baby of mine is gonna sleep in a shelter like a homeless person!” he said. “I may be a criminal, but I'm not gonna be a deadbeat dad!” I beamed at that.

He still hasn't said anything about getting married, and I haven't brought it up. To be honest, it doesn't matter so very much to me. The Magic has already had its way, and we are a family for better or worse. A piece of paper won't change that. Xander may come around on his own one day, and as for me, I am happy just being with him. We are beginning to build a home together, Xander and I, and the child we have made.