The Experiment

Shock, awe, astonishment.

        Have you ever come to visit your parents at their home and then tried to staunchly avoid them at all costs? I have today and well…I just should've stayed at school.

Decmeber20: I walked into the West Wing and was immediately assailed by my mother. I thought I was too old to be swooped. Boy, was I wrong. I swear, I spent half an hour with my head between my knees before I could see straight again.

        Mom asked me again. You already know the answer. She didn't believe me. Her next question was proof of that.

        "Have you been eating well?" Her eyebrow was raised at her own question.

        "Yah, I've been eating fine. You can ask Gina." Just then, Dad and his all-consuming presence made themselves known.

        "Where's my daughter? Where…There she is." Thankfully, my father does cuddly hugs and no swooping. I don't think I could handle more swooping. As a matter of fact, that hug seemed to give me back my center. Probably his cologne. It's always had a comforting influence on me, even more so than mom's perfume.

        He looked at me with that concerned 'I'm your father, tell me what's wrong so I can make it better' look.

        I don't know if I should admit this, but I gave in. I gave in and told my father everything about this…and maybe Charlie. Anyway, I couldn't just look him in the eyes and say nothing. I asked him if we could talk in private, he agreed, and we went to the Oval to talk.

~~~~~~~

Inside the Oval

        We sat down on the couch and the look returned. I couldn't stand to worry him anymore. I put down my backpack and pulled off my heavy jacket, then my light sweater underneath. Under all that I was dressed as your average pregnant college student. Close-fitting knit grey shirt, broken-in denim overalls, and the comfortable tennis shoes.

        His eyes immediately found themselves on my stomach. I had to admit again that the difference was getting to be considerable. He rose slowly from his seat and came towards me.

        "Zoey, honey, is there something I should know here?" I don't know here, Dad. With the way I've been feeling lately, maybe.

        "Don't freak out, Dad. It's not what it looks like." Way to go, Bartlet. That was real Nobel of you.

        "It's not what it looks like? It looks like my daughter is pregnant. Another one of my daughters is pregnant!" Oh, the yelling. Yeah, a brief warning: Never go the way of Liz Bartlet. Useless to me now, but you know, for future reference.

        "Dad, calm down. Let me explain. Please." I let a pleading tone slip into the last word. He nods curtly, but quiets so that I can speak. "Dad, it's for college. I need to do this for my last two college credits. I'm two short."

        "Wow, classes at college ain't what they used to be, huh?" His joking response tells me he's willing to listen, so I'd better start explaining.

        "Okay, Dad. Here it is. I'm not really pregnant, but no one else knows that. I'm doing a joint assignment for my Political-Science and Psychology classes. For the remainder of the semester, I have to do a weekly journal detailing my family's, friends,' and the public's response to my alleged condition. Then, after I graduate I would have to write a paper on my psychological response to it along with everyone else's for Professor Noble and a paper on the political affects it has on your administration. And before you say anything, Dad. I know it was selfish, but it was this or graduate a semester late. I swear I think Professor Barnes is a Republican. Oh, and technically I'm not allowed to confirm or deny my pregnancy." I'm rambling now. He's not saying anything, he seems to be kind of ruminating.

        "Did you say Professor Noble? That wouldn't happen to be Vixen Noble would it?" Well, that shows how well he's followed this conversation.

        "Uh, yeah. " Hey, don't listen. It's no skin off my back.

        "And she put you up to this?" Where exactly is this going?

        "Yeah, she and Professor Stockholm Barnes." He hmmms and nods. Whew! I'm off the hook.

        "And don't think you're off the hook, young lady. This could cause a lot of hell in the white house and at home."

        "I know Dad and I told them that, but there just isn't anything else I can do."

        "How long have you been doing this…experiment of sorts?"

        "Just this week. But I'll be doing it until May."

        "How are you going to explain never getting anymore pregnant?"

        "This is just the 3 month suit. There's a 5 month suit, a 7 month suit, and a 9 month suit. And along with that, I'm gaining plenty of weight. I think it's psychosomatic. "

        "Zoey, honey, you're rambling again." I knew that. But if I don't give him a chance to talk, he can't yell at me. "I won't yell unless you don't shut up." That's convincing. Shutting up now. He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You need to do this for your credits, right?" I nod solemnly. "Okay. You have my backing and I'll help you out if you start to slip up. But don't expect me to lie to your mother."

        "You don't have to lie. Just don't confirm or deny. Just let it be. She'll either figure it out or be kept wondering."

        "And Charlie?" Yeah, my boyfriend. I haven't said anything, but if his face when he hugged me hello was any indication, he's got a few very pointed questions for me.

        " I think I'm gonna have to tell him at some point or risk losing him or pissing him off severely."

        "Oh, he won't leave, but extremely pissed would be a very accurate expression for what I see coming from my body man as soon as you leave this room." Oh, great, Psychic Dad is back. And he's always right. Not like he isn't anyway.

        I say all a girl can say to her father at a time like this…

        " Save me."

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