*Note to readers: this is my second entry in the Flash Fiction Challenge competition. I hope to place in the top 15 again so that I may continue competing. As I won’t officially hear from the judges until November, I’d love to hear your thoughts. The constraints were: 1,000 words, a ski gondola, a pregnancy test and romantic comedy. I know this doesn’t hit the theme of my general posts but considering writing in a variety of forms is a huge passion of mine, I hope you’ll forgive the change in content.
—-
Paige was excited at the prospect of vacationing in Vancouver with Ryan. After two years, they still couldn’t get enough of each other; he loved her as much as she did him. She knew, marrow deep, that this was it. The real deal. And she knew, from the way he treated her to the sparkle in his eye only she elicited, that he was in for the long haul.
There was just one small hiccup–a big one if you asked her mother–Paige was pregnant. She’d peed on multiple sticks, all had been positive and, though out of order, she couldn’t wait to tell Ryan.
—-
Where the fuck were his car keys? And the itinerary? His passport? For a guy who usually kept his cool, Ryan was losing his shit. Where had he put it? Fuck! Without time to recount his steps, Ryan grabbed his stuff and headed over to Paige’s place. “Vacation, my ass,” he thought.
—
“You already drop off the dog?” he asked, kissing her sweetly as he entered the apartment.
“Yep. You have everything?” she asked, noting sweat on his brow and upper lip.
“I do…. I mean, um, I have it all. Yeah.” He stammered and then stopped, suddenly fascinated by his jacket zipper.
“You all right there, Chief?” Paige had never seen him so flustered. He was the calm one, after all, while she was prone to verbal diarrhea. What was going on in his head? Had he stumbled upon the truth or inferred it somehow? She had gained some weight, but not much.
“Let’s go,” he said, reaching first for her hand, then remembering her suitcase and grabbing it awkwardly, trying to play it off and failing spectacularly. Paige couldn’t help smiling. She–the awkward introvert to his Mr. Popular–still got to him. He’d see this as good news…right?
—-
The flight hadn’t been long, at least not for her, sleeping sweetly, not a care in the world. Which was great for him as he’d shit, with reckless abandon, for the majority of the flight. But Paige was sleeping soundly – she’d been napping a lot recently, hadn’t she? Ryan slipped back into his seat as they approached the tarmac. Paige stirred, leaning her head on his shoulder.
—-
After settling in at the timeshare and riding bikes around the area, they decided to further explore. Ever the adventurer, Ryan laid out a suggested plan.
“I was thinking maybe at the end of the tour we could have dinner on the mountain.”
His eyebrows were doing weird things, his lips pressed firmly together as Paige had never seen.
“And did thinking make you have to poop?”
“What?”
“That sounds great…wait a second.” Paige eyed him suspiciously.
“What?”
“How are we getting to the top?” Ryan was known to insert exercise where fun should be and, especially now, Paige was against it.
“G-gondola!” he blurted with awkward immediacy.
“Excuse me?”
“We could – uh – take the gondola?”
“What gondola? Have you been here before?”
“No – I, uh, – spoke with the concierge and…”
But something had distracted Paige, and she missed his obvious stammering.
“Babe, look. Bears!” And it was true: there, right outside their bus window, were two baby bears playfully chasing after tourists on bikes. Dipshits across the road gathered to take selfies, no concern for where Mama bear might be.
“Mama,” she thought dreamily, trying to play it off like searching for bears was her only purpose in life. Instead, she had a plan. The gondola would be the perfect place for the big reveal.
—-
Not sure if they’d agreed to take the gondola and completely thrown by his girlfriend’s one-woman mission to catalog Canadian bears, Ryan felt somewhat diminished but still determined. He had what he needed, would have her undivided attention, and knew what he had to do. He would get the girl, dammit, and the gondola was the key.
—-
“Bears, Bikes and … shit what’s a third B-word, I’m trying to Dwight.”
“Babe, I…”
“I know, it’s stupid. But seriously, do you think people can even see bears from up here? We’re pretty high…”
Paige was rambling. Trying to spout as many bear facts as she could, her words manic, to deflect from the bomb she was about to drop into their lives.
—-
Ryan wasn’t listening, instead he was firmly holding his future–their future?–in his pocket, ready to ask what he’d been bumbling all day. It was now or never.
—-
With her hand clasped firmly on the test, Paige decided she’d get his attention somehow–feign bear sighting?–and then do the damn thing. At least that’s what she thought would happen, as she took the test from her pocket and…
—–
Paige’s back was still to Ryan, face to the glass looking for bears and unable to see what he was up to behind her. So he got down on one knee, grabbed the ring, ready to ask THE question.
“Here goes,” he thought. “So, babe, I have to ask you something.”
—
She turned around and immediately said: “What the hell,” inadvertently brandishing the test magician-style. She was so intent on her plan, on where he was supposed to be versus where he was, that she lost her bearings completely. And then, overwhelmed by anxiety and confusion, it happened. She puked right at his feet.
“Well that’s hardly ideal, huh?” To his credit, he stayed on his knee instead of jumping back.
“Oh no, I…oh Ryan, of course it’s yes, it’s just…”
“Finish your sentence faster, please.”
“I know what the third B is.”
“Is it barf? Wait…what’s in your hand? Are you…you’re…”
“Knocked up, yup.” Paige watched as his expressions relayed his eventual understanding.
“Bears, Bikes and Babies!?”
“Kinda missing when you thought it was barf, huh?”
“No.” He jumped up, sidestepping effortlessly, and grabbed her in a bear hug. “Now let’s celebrate. We’re engaged, you’re knocked up, and I’m pretty sure we’re moving to Canada since your Mom is going to kick my ass when we land.”
No Prob Mama 