Angelina shocked when Zashery told that ''Pam is Pregnant😱

 

Angelina was meticulously arranging the hydrangeas in a vase, her brow furrowed in concentration. The delicate blue petals were a perfect match for the wallpaper in her salon, a detail she prided herself on. Just as she stepped back to admire her handiwork, the door chimed, announcing the arrival of her longtime friend, Zashery.

Zashery burst in, a whirlwind of energy, his usually jovial face etched with a peculiar mix of excitement and apprehension. “Angelina! You won’t believe it!” he exclaimed, his voice barely a whisper.

Angelina chuckled, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arching. “Knowing you, Zashery, I probably will. Did you finally manage to convince Madame Evangeline to sell you her antique comb collection?”

Zashery waved a dismissive hand. “This is bigger, Angelina, much bigger. This is…life-altering.” He paused, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself. “Pam is pregnant.”

Angelina froze. The half-formed words died on her lips. The hydrangeas seemed to blur before her eyes. Pam? Pregnant? Pam, the fiercely independent, commitment-phobic lawyer who swore off family life after a particularly scarring divorce? Pam, her other best friend, the one she thought she knew inside and out?

“Pam is…pregnant?” she repeated, her voice a mere squeak. She sank into a nearby chair, the elegant lines of the velvet cushion doing little to absorb the shock that was coursing through her veins.

Zashery nodded, his eyes wide. “Pregnant! With child! Carrying a future human being!” He punctuated each phrase with a dramatic gesture. “I just found out myself. She told me over lunch. Nearly choked on my soufflé.”

Angelina struggled to process the information. She and Pam had been friends since college. They'd shared secrets, heartbreaks, and countless bottles of wine. They’d even jokingly made a pact to grow old together, sipping martinis on a porch swing. Pregnancy, children, families—those were never part of the plan  “But…how?” Angelina stammered, her mind racing. "I mean...who's the..."

Zashery held up a hand. “That’s the even crazier part. Remember Mark, the sculptor she had that brief fling with last summer? The one with the dreadlocks and the perpetually paint-stained overalls?”  

Angelina vaguely recalled Mark. She'd thought of him as more of a temporary distraction, a bohemian dalliance for Pam to break free from her rigid routine.

“Apparently, he’s the father,” Zashery continued. “And…they’re kind of…together.”

Angelina’s jaw dropped. “Together? With Mark? Are you sure she hasn’t been kidnapped and replaced with an alien pod person?”

Zashery chuckled nervously. “I know, right? I had the same thought. But she seemed…happy. Scared, maybe, but definitely happy.”

The image of Pam, vulnerable and glowing, swam in Angelina's mind. It was impossible to reconcile with the image of the sharp, career-driven woman she knew.

“So, what now?” Angelina asked, the initial shock slowly giving way to a sense of cautious optimism.

“I don’t know!” Zashery threw his hands up in the air. “That’s why I came to you! I’m terrified! I’m going to be an honorary uncle! I don’t even know how to change a diaper!”

Angelina allowed herself a small smile. Zashery’s panic was grounding. She knew, deep down, that despite her initial shock, she would be there for Pam, every step of the way "We'll figure it out," she said, a newfound determination in her voice. "We always do. First, we're going to get Pam that craving she mentioned - something about pickles and ice cream? And then…we're going to learn everything there is to know about babies."

The image of Angelina, Zashery, and Pam huddled around a mountain of baby books, sticky with pickle juice and ice cream, brought a genuine smile to her face. Life was changing, and it was changing fast. But with her friends by her side, Angelina knew they could face anything, even a baby. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected twist would bring them closer than ever before.

The hydrangeas, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, seemed to shimmer with a new kind of hope