As Mom and I were having soup for lunch, Pop came home. He was a shift supervisor at a local shipping company. "Feeling better, honey?" he asked, kissing my forehead.
"Kinda," I replied. My stomach had settled down; however, since I now knew it was morning sickness, I knew it would act up again, soon.
"Did Dr. Foster figure out what the problem was?" he asked, helping himself to some soup.
"In a manner of speaking," Mom replied.
"Pop,... Pop, I'm gonna have a baby."
Pop sat down at the table. "I didn't know you had even started dating."
"I haven't."
"She says she has no idea how this happened," Mom added. "Don, I believe her."
Pop sighed. "In that case, we have a mystery on our hands. Unfortunately, none of us are detectives."
"What are we going to do?" I asked.
"That's a question I should be asking you, Cassie. After all, it's your body; it's your baby."
"I want to keep it." It felt right, said out loud. I wanted to carry this baby; to give birth to it; to watch it grow up.
Pop nodded, and patted my hand. "In that case, we'll do everything we can to help you."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever had caused this, I wouldn't be going through it alone.
"Keep seeing Dr. Foster. If she says it's good for you and the baby, do it. I'll run out later for some ginger snaps; they were a big help for my first wife when she was having Pat."
"You'll need to think about what to say to your friends," Mom said, "and everyone at school."
I sighed. "I just wish I knew why this happened."
"Like I said, we're not detectives. If we find something that leads us to how and why you got pregnant, we can work with it. In the meantime, we'll handle this mystery the same way you'll handle your pregnancy: one day at a time."