George was elated. Over the next few days he had to remind himself, over and over, that this wasn't a dream, that he was awake, that this was really his life, and that, as unhappy as he'd been three months ago, he was that ecstatic now.

He was very careful not to show too much to Scout. He didn't want to scare her away. He'd gotten her to agree to stay, to agree to have a child with him, which he found unbelievable. She was willing and eager to share his bed with him every night. He'd told her he loved her, and she apparently returned his feelings.

But she was one of those descendants of the Mayflower or whatever, of the New England Puritans he'd studied in school, those scary, leathery, harsh Americans who'd fought in the Revolutionary War, tough as nails, take no prisoners, unsentimental and no-nonsense through and through.

George wanted to shower her with rose petals, woo her with soft music, kiss her in the moonlight, but he didn't think she was that kind of girl. He didn't want to risk finding out, anyway. This was why he'd shied away from asking her to marry him. He was afraid she'd laugh at him and say no to such a romantic notion as a marriage proposal after knowing each other less than two months. If they hadn't already had unprotected sex, he wouldn't have dreamed of broaching the idea of a baby. He'd been shocked when she'd said yes.

She was in the library right now, poring over the books, and George was in the music room. He was supposed to be "working", but he was distracted, thinking about Scout, as usual. He was trying to think of some excuse so he could go in and see what she was doing without it seeming like an excuse. He didn't want to irritate her by interrupting.

He looked at his watch and sighed. Only ten thirty. In half an hour he could ask if she wanted some tea or something, maybe.

In the library, Scout was sitting at the table with her laptop open in front of her, inputting details from a stack of books, wondering when she could reasonably take a pregnancy test. She tried to remember when she'd had her last period, but couldn't. She knew she'd had at least one since she'd been at Farraway Mist, because she'd been worried about staining George's sheets, but she couldn't remember the dates. The days tended to blend together without classes to go to, or TV to watch or anything.

She thought about George, who was in the music room, and wondered if it was possible that he thought about her as much as she thought about him.

No way, she decided. He'd think she was crazy.

First of all, she thought about sex with George all the time. She didn't know it was possible to be this horny. It was incredible. She was in heat, like, every waking moment. She found herself staring at him, at his hands, remembering something he'd done with them the last time they'd been together, or even his crotch, when they were just sitting playing a game or something. It was embarrassing. Like she was a crazy teenager.

She shook her head, and focused again on the book next to her. She began typing, but almost immediately she was distracted by the soft sounds of the guitar that drifted through the open window.

George was working on something new, and it was beautiful.

Scout looked at her watch. Only twenty more minutes until he'd ask if she wanted some tea. She resolutely looked at the book again and began typing once more.

"Ready for some tea?" George called hopefully through the open door.

"Yeah, sounds great," she answered with a smile, rising and stretching, as he'd hoped she would. She lifted her arms above her head until her back cracked, causing her Lonely Island T-shirt to rise up and show her cute belly button and two inches of white tummy.

He smiled as he saw it, reaching to scratch it gently as she approached him, loving how soft it was, leaning in to kiss her.

"Scout?" he murmured, leaning her into the wall so he could press up against her and really kiss her.

"Yes?" she responded, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall, feeling the strength leaving her legs from the depth of the kiss.

He stopped kissing her so he could look at her.

"You know this whole baby thing?"

"Yes?"

"Um, I just want to be clear, you know? I didn't mean that I want you to be its mum, and I want to be its dad, but we can live apart and share the child or whatever, you understand?" he asked earnestly. "Just because I didn't ask you to marry me doesn't mean I don't want you, too." He stroked her cheek and leaned in to kiss her before speaking again. "Because I do. I meant that I want us to be a family. Permanently," he said firmly. "You and me and this baby. And maybe a few more--?" he looked at her hopefully.

She blinked at him.

"I just wanted to be perfectly clear," he explained. "I didn't want you to think I'd be okay with you finishing your job here and popping back to live in America with our child, that's all, okay?"

She smiled at him, radiating joy, eyes luminous, nodding. "Okay, George, yes, that's okay with me. I mean, that's what I meant, too."

George sighed with relief.

"Good," he said. "Now let's go have our tea."

"George?" Scout pulled him back.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, George."

He rubbed noses with her and kissed her hand.

"I love you, too, Scout."

***************************

Mr. Wilder? Where do you want all these things, then?" Sunil called.

"Well, most of it's from the market, I think, so the kitchen, I think," George answered. "Would you mind just putting them away?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Wilder," Sunil answered. "Then I'll we'll get going on the back rooms, shall we?"

"Sounds good," he responded.

He and Scout were in the lounge with the doors and windows open, enjoying the afternoon breeze that was blowing in off the ocean. It had been a warm couple of weeks, and this was the warmest part of the year in Cornwall. They had officially been "trying to get pregnant" for a few weeks, and it had been a really fun few weeks, too.

Scout was playing the piano, mixing up Chopin, Beethoven, and Mozart, her favorites. George was just sitting, not even pretending to read, but just enjoying watching her play. The dogs lounged in front of the open doors.

Suddenly Sunil and Alfred were standing at the door to the lounge, crowding into the doorway. Scout noticed them first and stopped playing. George sat up and turned around, looking for the reason.

"Everything all right?" he asked, concerned.

"Is this for Miss Scout?" Alfred asked bluntly, holding something out. It was a box, too small for George or Scout to read.

George held his hand out for it, mystified. Scout rose from the stool and went over to sit next to George.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

George smiled and held it out so she could see.

He licked his lips and looked at the two boys. "Would you believe me if I told you it was for me?" he asked them drily.

It was a home pregnancy test.

Scout smiled, too.

Sunil was looking everywhere but at Scout, and poor Alfred was blushing scarlet to the roots of his red hair.

"We're so sorry, honest," Alfred said. "It's none of our business, like, I know that, I do. It's just that we were so surprised when Sunil pulled it out of the box, you can't imagine, Mr. Wilder!"

"I was so shocked I dropped the box on the floor!" Sunil said, nodding vigorously. He looked stricken as a new thought struck him. "Oh Jesus, you don't suppose I broke it, do you?" He looked at Alfred. "What if it's broken, man? What if it gives a false result, like? Oh no." Poor Sunil looked like he might cry. "I'd better ride my bike back to the village and get you a new one straight away, hadn't I?" He looked back and forth between Scout and George. "I'll go right now."

"Sunil!" Scout rose and went to him, still holding the box. "I'm sure it still works fine, I'm sure of it, really." She put a calming hand on his arm.

"You really think so?" he looked at her hopefully. "It's really no trouble, Miss Scout, I can--"

"I'm positive," she said firmly. "Please don't go, okay? Just finish with the groceries and do the back rooms or whatever you were going to do, hm?" And she nodded at the two distraught boys.

"Only we didn't even know that you and Mr. Wilder were, erm, you know--" Alfred, whose blush had finally begun to fade, became tongue-tied all over again, and fresh spots of color bloomed on his cheeks. "That is to say, we weren't aware that you two were doing, um-- oh, fuck--"

He heard what he said and his eyes widened as laughter that sounded like chimes bubbled up out of Scout. She clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to quell her giggles, but she couldn't, and finally had to sit down as George rubbed her back as she nearly choked on her laughs.

"Oh lord, I'm so sorry I said that in front of you," Alfred said, nearly purple with embarrassment.

Scout waved at him, trying to catch her breath.

"Jesus, Alfred, we all swear around here," she was finally able to say. "Though if there is going to be a baby next year, maybe we should all try to control that shit a little, hm?" And she gave him a merry smile.

He nodded at her, her lovely smile making him feel a little dazed.

"Okay, boys, how about you get back to what you were doing before you make Miss Scout choke to death or something, hm?" George said with a smile.

Both boys left with alacrity, leaving the two of them holding the pregnancy test, looking at each other.

"Should we go do it now?" Scout asked.

"I thought you had to do it first thing in the morning?" George responded, looking at the box.

"I don't think so, not with the new ones. I'm pretty sure they're more sophisticated, they can measure much smaller amounts or whatever."

"You're right," George finally said, looking up at Scout with a smile.

"I haven't had a period in a long time," Scout said, biting her lip.

George rose, leaning his head toward the upstairs bathroom.

"Come on, then, darling. Let's go see if we're having a baby, then."