Rivera - Don't be worried.

The day before the local summer bake-off, Lupe Rivera tearfully said goodbye to another daughter. It wasn't really goodbye goodbye, Penny was just moving down the street, but it still make big fat tears spill down Lupe's cheeks. She should have been glad. When Penny grew into a child, her chances of being adopted shriveled up, but Claire Abbott came to the rescue and offered Penny a home.

She had been only gone one day, but Lupe missed her already. Before the bake-off the next morning, Lupe's stomach was in knots. "Claire and Penny will be there. What if I see her and start crying? What if she's happier with Claire than she was here?" she unloaded on her husband, Marc.

"Look, Lu, we are in this to find homes for these kids. Claire's a great mother, and if Penny is happier, then that's even better." 

The nerves began really getting to Lupe, and she bolted to the bathroom, feeling ill. She next dealt well with nervousness. 

With a sigh, Marc retreated to the quiet of the driveway, where he was restoring an old, worn out car. It was relieving to get away from the stress of his wife's sudden hysteria and just focus on something that made sense. His goal was to restore it like new and sell it to a collector to buy some new playground equipment for the kids.

After the baking competition, Lupe still felt terrible. She couldn't blame it on nerves this time. She lounged on the couch, hoping her stomach would settle down, when the doorbell rang. "Who is coming over at eight at night?" she thought, glad the children were all settled in bed.

She looked through the peephole and saw Sunday Flax, the very woman who crushed her in the Bake-Off. "Do you need something, Sunday? I'm not feeling very well this evening." 

"I could tell," she said with a smile. "I brought something that should make you feel better."

"I think a good rest will make me feel better," replied Lupe curtly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bug you, you just seemed really sick today and I-"

"I'm sorry, Sunday. I'm not feeling myself. Come on in."

Sunday gestured for Lupe to sit at the table and she uncovered a steaming bowl of soup. "If you're still feeling sick after this, then you're terminal," Sunday joked.

"What's in this?" Lupe asked nervously.

"Secret recipe. But it works every time."

Imagine my surprise when Lupe was hunched over the porcelain god with a pregnant? thought in her head. They weren't ever supposed to have babies! That's why I started this stinking orphanage. :P Oh well. I guess Lupe (or Marc? Bwahah!) had other plans.