 Mindlessly reading a paragraph from a three year old copy of "Better Homes and Gardens", I'm trying, with little success, to concentrate on anything but the odor of the percolating coffee in the stainless steel server at the far end of the waiting area. Giving up my battle, I reach for the bag of crackers on the seat next to me and bring one up to my lips, letting the starch absorb the bile in my mouth. I watch, with great disdain, as a member of the dietary staff busily refills empty dispensers with fistfuls of red and white striped stirrers and packets of sugar and powdered creamer. Gone are the days when I couldn't seem to start my morning without a cup of coffee, and I watch an eager patient fill his styrofoam cup and return to his seat, thankful that I'll have no difficulty giving up my one and only vice for the next nine months.
I'm aware of Danny's shuffling footsteps as he retreats from the reception desk on my left, and I toss the magazine aside, focusing on his sleepy eyes as he approaches me. "You're signed in," he whispers, taking the seat next to mine. His eyes dropping to the moist, half-eaten cracker in my hand, he slips an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him, nuzzling my temple as he asks, "Is it worse this morning than it was yesterday?"
Closing my eyes, I shake my head 'no', answering, "No better... no worse." Jerking my head in the direction of the coffee drinker to my right, I lower my voice and add, "I seem to have this overwhelming aversion to the smell of coffee." Turning in my seat to look into his eyes, I smile as I say, "Speaking of which... you look like you could use a cup."
Stretching out his tired muscles, he covers the hand resting in my lap with his own, and I hear the yawn behind his words as he insists, "Nah... I'm all right."
Sleep did not come easily for either one of us last night as we lay with our bodies entwined, anticipating this afternoon's appointment, and after having rolled out of bed at six this morning, we're both running on pure adrenaline. "I know that it's early, sweetie," I say, threading my fingers through his as I turn my wrist and glance at my watch. "You didn't have to come with me this morning, you know?"
I regret my words the minute that they fall from my lips as a hurt look crosses his face. "Where else would I be?" he asks, feeling excluded.
"Oh... I dunno," I begin, shrugging my shoulders as I attempt to lighten the mood. "Sitting behind your power desk at your multimillion dollar corporation, maybe?" I tease, relief washing over me when a gentle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
A finger pressed to his lips, he glances around as if sharing some enormous secret with me, whispering, "Playing hooky is one of the perks of being the boss, you know."
Devouring the remainder of my cracker, I'm suddenly reminded of my own responsibility, and my eyes stretch wide as I press the pads of my fingertips against my lips and speak with a full mouth. "God, Danny... we won't be able to make it back home by eight," I whimper, feeling slightly guilty that abuela's therapy session was the furthest thing from my mind.
Rubbing calming circles against the top of my hand, he soothes, "Shh, baby... don't worry. I talked to her while you were in the bathtub this morning." I swallow past the dryness in my throat as he explains, "I told her that you wouldn't be able to work today because you weren't feeling well."
Laying my head against his shoulder, I inhale deeply and sigh on a ragged breath, "I hate having to lie to her."
He lifts the nearly empty bag of crackers in front of my face as his lips find their way into my hair, and his warm breath dances across my scalp as he insists, "You don't feel well, sweetie. It's not a lie."
"Half-truth, then," I mutter stubbornly, even though I know that our agreement not to tell anyone about the pregnancy until we're certain that everything's all right with the baby was the right decision.
My heart races as a tall, redheaded nurse, whose name tag reads 'Heather', suddenly appears near the reception desk, and I close my eyes and brace myself as she peers down at the clipboard in her hand. "Ms. Bauer?" she asks, her eyes scanning the female faces in the room.
Danny gives my hand a light squeeze and plants a soft kiss on my lips as I stand and follow the nurse into a small, cramped cubicle. I watch as she scrubs her hands and puts on a pair of latex gloves before turning her warm, green eyes to mine and sitting on the little black stool opposite my chair. Wrapping a tourniquet around the middle of my upper arm, she presses a glove-tipped finger into the crease of my elbow, feeling the size and depth of my vein. Carefully, she chooses a thin needle from her phlebotomy kit, and deposits two purple-capped vials and a couple of alcohol swabs on the silver tray by her side. Cleansing my skin, she unpackages and uncaps the needle, looking into my eyes briefly before turning her attention back to my arm and saying, "Just a little stick."
My thick, red blood fills first one vial and then the other as she effortlessly makes the transfer. Loosening the tourniquet, she swipes my skin with alcohol once again and then firmly presses a dry cotton ball to the puncture site, letting me fold my arm and hold it in place as she tosses the used needle into the biohazard receptacle on the wall. Covering the cotton with a band-aid, she makes quick work of labeling my blood and depositing the filled vials back in her kit. "All done, sweetie," she says softly, and I return her warm smile as she helps me to my feet.
I follow behind her, watching as she pads down the hallway in the direction of the lab, and I turn the corner and tug on the door that leads to the waiting area, my smile broadening as Danny rises from his chair and closes the distance between us. "How about some breakfast?" he asks, his eyes drifting down to the bandage on my arm and then back up to mine. I shake my head 'no', and he wraps his fingers around mine as he leads me outside to the car, urging over his shoulder, "You need to put something in your stomach, baby."
Relenting, I offer meekly, "Ok, Danny... but nothing heavy."
"That's my girl," he brags, threading his fingers through my hair as we turn out of the parking lot and leave the Burdin-Reihl clinic behind. Glancing down at the dashboard clock, I see that it's just a little after eight, and I pray that God gives me the strength to keep my sanity until my four o'clock appointment with Dr. Sedwick.
***
The warm sun against my skin feels wonderful as I close my eyes and tilt my head up to the sky to bask in its rays, and the sound of children playing in the distance calms my anxieties. Some peace and quiet in the park was just what I needed, and I curl my legs underneath my body and lay my head against Danny's shoulder as we sit on a small wooden bench near the playground. Sipping the last of my fruit smoothie, I let the mango, strawberry, and pineapple flavors tickle my taste buds as the frozen concoction slides down my throat. "Want another?" he asks, laughing as I slurp the last few drops. I shake my head 'no' against him, too comfortable to look up into his eyes. "We should probably get you home, then... it's hot, and you need to get some rest before this afternoon," he suggests, sounding like a mother-hen, and I wonder if I'll have to endure nine months worth of being treated like a delicate flower.
I curl my fingers around his biceps, unable to tear my eyes off of a set of towheaded, identical twin toddlers playing in a nearby sandbox. I watch as one little boy dumps shovelfuls of sand onto his brother's lap, and as they both begin to giggle hysterically, I share a warm smile with their mother, who's happily allowing them the freedom to get filthy. "I don't want to go home, Danny, and I couldn't sleep a wink if my life depended on it," I whine pitifully. "I love to watch the children playing."
"Let's compromise, then," he insists, dragging me reluctantly to my feet. I wave to the boys over my shoulder as I follow behind him, smiling as two, dirty, chubby hands fly up to return the gesture.
With a great deal of longing, I watch the tranquility of the park disappear from view in the side mirror. "Exactly how do you see this as a compromise, sweetheart?" I ask sarcastically, batting my lashes at him dramatically as he makes a wide left turn.
With a smile on his lips and a shrug of his shoulders, he turns his attention from the road to my eyes briefly as he increases the fan speed of the air conditioning, asking, "Well... we're out of the heat, aren't we?" When I open my mouth to ask what concessions he's made on my behalf, he cuts me off, finishing, "But... we're not going home."
I'm more than a little surprised to see that we're heading deeper into the downtown area. "Where are we going?" I question finally as we turn onto Fifth Street.
"Right... here," he replies, turning into a gravel parking lot and pulling into a vacant spot, and I adjust my shoulder harness as I pivot in my seat to read the words etched on the wooden sign that we passed. 'Springfield Cares: A Community Center.'
As he leads me towards a set of glass doors, I stare down at dozens of small, red, blue, and green painted footprints on the sidewalk, each bearing the name and age of a child. "What is this place, Danny?" I ask, my curiosity peaked as we're met with the sounds of children's laughter from somewhere deep within the building.
Escorting me down a long corridor to my left, he explains, "Well... four years ago, it started out as a low-cost aftercare center for school-age children." His entire face lights up as he pauses long enough to trace a fingertip over one of the pictures of a smiling child that lines the hallway, and I know instantly that he's proud of every Sancorp dollar that he's sunk into this place. "We provide tutors to assist kids with their homework," he continues, pointing to one of the rooms that we pass, and I peer inside, finding a well-equipped computer lab. "And counselors to offer guidance to troubled teens," he explains as I linger in front of a closed door labeled 'Teen Outreach Center'.
Rounding a corner, I'm overwhelmed by the warmth that spreads through my soul as he lifts my hand in his and escorts me into a room where dozens of happy children are busily occupied in several separate clusters. "This year, we began a summer program to keep kids busy and off of the streets while their parents work," he says, raising his voice over the bustling commotion around us.
A buxom, brunette woman rises from her spot on the carpeted floor, a friendly smile stretching across her heart-shaped face as she crosses over to us. "Mr. Santos... I wasn't expecting a visit from you today. Is everything all right?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder to quiet her rowdy group of children.
"It's fine, dear," he answers, patting her hand reassuringly. "I'd like for you to meet my fiancee, Michelle," he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Michelle... this is Connie. She's been with us ever since we opened in 1996."
"Pleased to meet you," we say in unison, each extending our right hand to the other for a shake.
Glancing around at the functionally messy room, he asks, "What kinds of activities have you got planned today?"
Pointing to the group seated around a table in the far corner, she explains, "The eight to twelve year olds have got arts and crafts... papier-mâché animals." Turning towards the group of children who are nestled in several beanbag chairs and on one fluffy love seat near the window, she says, "Creative writing for the teenagers." Jerking her thumb through the air over her shoulder, she says with a sigh, "I've got the five to seven year olds today."
"Is there anything that we can do to help?" he volunteers, looking at me as an afterthought to gauge my reaction, and I happily nod my head.
"Actually... there is," she says meekly, a little hesitant to ask for any favors. "How much time do you have to kill?" she inquires, chewing her bottom lip.
"A couple of hours at least," I offer, excited by the prospect of spending my day doing something useful, rather than wallowing in my worries.
His fingers sweep gentle caresses across my belly as he pulls me closer to him, and when I look into his eyes, I know that he's happy that he was able to offer me this small distraction. "Well... Shelly called in this morning, so we're a little short-staffed today," she begins, and we break eye contact with one another and snap to attention. "Malia could really use some help outside organizing the beginner's swimming class... do you think that you could handle my group in here while I help her?"
"Sure," he replies, shaking his head as he looks to me for my approval. Smiling, I look over her shoulder at seven pairs of eyes staring at us expectantly. I'm so giddy that I nearly shove Connie out of the room.
Introducing ourselves to our new, young friends, we join their circle, sitting Indian style with the rest of them. As Danny begins to weave a fantastical story about dragons and wizards, complete with impressions of goofy sounding characters, a pair of cold, wet hands descends upon my shoulders, and I turn to face the person that they belong to. My breath catches in my throat as I meet the eyes of a little girl that bears an eerie resemblance to a child that has haunted my dreams ever since I first started fantasizing about having a baby with Danny. A mass of unruly, blonde curls sits atop her head, and a set of huge, coal black eyes are deep-set within her beautiful, olive-skinned face. Danny's taken aback by the child's features as well, and we share a knowing glance with one another over her head, our eyes stretched wide at the uncanniness.
"Emily Ann!" a stern voice calls out on the opposite side of the room, and I turn and watch the volunteer from the arts and crafts table approach, her hands on her hips. "Look at what you've done," she scolds, rubbing my shoulders with a damp cloth. "I'm sorry, Miss... she's gotten Plaster of Paris all over you," she says, staring down at me. Ignoring her, I turn back to little Emily and watch her softly crying as she lowers her eyes to the floor. "Quit bothering the nice lady and get back to where you belong," she finishes, tugging the child's arm, but Emily squirms out of her grasp and cowers on my other side.
Reading the volunteer's name tag, I wave a hand in the air, insisting, "Katherine, please... there's no harm done." Sitting up on my knees, I give my undivided attention to Emily, pulling her closely against me and whispering into her ear, "What's the matter, sweetie?"
Sheepishly, she turns eyes that burn with the same intensity as Danny's, to mine, answering innocently, "I just wanted to know if you'd help me make my bunny. I can't make it look right."
"You got it," I answer, laughing at her determination as she grabs my wrists and eagerly pulls me to my feet. Patting Danny's back as he resumes his story, I give Katherine a reassuring wink as I follow behind Emily to the arts and crafts table. Thankful that there's an extra smock for me, I cinch it tightly around my waist, covering my turquoise sundress to avoid any mishaps as I dip my hands into the soggy goo. Attempting to channel some Martha Stewart craftiness, I lay the strips of paper over the mold as I fashion what... I hope... looks like a bunny.
Applying the finishing touches of pink inside 'Buggs' ears, I lock eyes with Danny across the room, realizing that I couldn't have ever dreamt of having a better father for my child. His story hour morphed into a sing-a-long about an hour ago, and I smile as he and the hyperactive kids around him repeat the chorus of this song for what must be the fortieth time. His animation hasn't faltered once, and I laugh at his silly hand gestures as he sings at the top of his lungs, "They'll be green alligators and long neck geese... some humpy back camels and some chimpanzees... some rats and cats and elephants... but sure as you're born... you're never gonna see another unicorn."
Relief materializes in the doorway as Connie enters the room with a tray of bologna sandwiches and cartons of cold milk. Kids scatter to meet her, and I walk over to Danny as he wipes his brow and jumps to his feet. "I don't know what I love more," I say seductively, interlacing our fingers and pulling him against me. "Your arrogant side, your tender side, or the goofy side that you showed me today."
"Are you trying to say that I've got split personalities, Ms. Bauer?" he asks, pressing his lips to my ear.
Shaking my head 'no', I rub my cheek against his, saying, "I'm trying to say that I'm glad I'll never have to choose... you're the total package." Stepping back to look into his eyes, I add honestly, "Our life together will never be boring... that's for sure."
Pressing his lips to mine, he whispers against them, "Variety is the spice of life, they say." Something tells me that our marriage will never be lacking in the spice department.
Several of the kids giggle as we kiss, their mouths full of bites of sandwich and sips of milk, and I close my eyes, murmuring, "I think we've got an audience." He turns from me to look at the gawkers, and we both laugh as they feign innocence, all eyes drifting back to the lunches in front of them. Tugging at the lapels of his sport's coat, I wait for his eyes to meet mine before saying rather desperately, "If you don't get me out of here and feed me right now, I may have to steal one of their lunches... I'm starving."
Ecstatic that I've got an appetite, he pulls me towards the door, raising his voice as he says, "Bye munchkins... we're going." A handful of kids jump up from their spots on the floor to bid us farewell, wrapping their little arms around our legs as they hug us tightly. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I look down at their sticky faces pressed against my belly, but I'm able to get a handle on my emotions as Connie comes over to thank us for our help. I want to tell her how much it meant to me to be able to forget my worries for a couple of hours and indulge in the unconditional love of these children, but the words elude me. Danny graciously speaks for both of us, saying, "I can't think of a better way for us to spend our morning."
A tapping on my hand draws my attention away from Connie, and I look down into the cherubic face of Emily, who's extending 'Buggs' to me in her upturned palm. "This is for you, Miss Michelle... I want you to have him," she says, and I kneel down in front of her and draw her into my arms.
"Thank you, angel," I manage to choke out. "I'll cherish him forever." Once we're safely out of earshot, my raging hormones get the best of me and I break down, unable to suppress my emotions any longer, and Danny snakes a comforting arm around my waist as he helps me to the car.
***
Swirling the last french fry in a dollop of ketchup, I look up from my plate as I pop it into my mouth and find Danny staring at me. "What?" I ask, raising my napkin to my lips and wiping furiously.
Shaking his head over the top of his glass, he replies, "Oh... nothing. I'm just marveling at how something so petite can manage to put away so much."
My eyes drift down to my empty plate, and I study the greasy spots where an enormous cheeseburger and a mound of french fries formerly sat. "I've got a good excuse now, don't you think?" I ask, lowering my voice as Selena approaches us to refill Danny's iced tea, and he gives me a sexy wink as I drain the last sip of my chocolate milk shake. She clears my plate, retreating to the kitchen, and I fold my arms and lean over the table questioning, "Will you still love me when I'm big and fat?"
Sitting back against the leather cushions of the booth, he presses his index finger to his chin as if in deep thought, beginning, "That depends, darling." I swat his hand away as it reaches across the table for mine, pouting as he asks, "Do you promise to love me when I'm bald and have false teeth?"
Smiling, I sit back and ponder his question, finally answering, "Assuming that you'll still have the ability to make me breathless with your kisses... then, yes... my answer's yes."
Chuckling to himself, he pulls his wallet and his keys out of his breast pocket, fishing out the money to pay our bill. "Where to now, my lady?" he asks, digging into his pant's pocket for twenty-three cents.
Snatching the keys off of the table, I declare, "I'm driving... there's a place that I want to show you." As we stand to leave, he turns me towards him, cradling my face in his hands as he pulls me against him forcefully. His lips descend upon mine, his tongue finding a familiar rhythm with my own as they begin to dance against one another. There's no doubt in my mind that he'll never lose his kissing ability... even if he does lose his teeth. I'm vaguely aware of Buzz's voice drifting over the chatter in the restaurant, telling us to knock it off, but Danny's fingers in my hair and his lips sucking on mine help me to tune out the world around me.
***
"Your family owns this place?" he asks as we step onto the observation deck at the top of the lighthouse, and I nod my head, sitting on the metal grating and wrapping my arms around the railing. He sits behind me, wrapping his legs around my hips and his arms around my waist. I sag against his chest, my heart in tune with his as a gentle breeze caresses my hair. His body enveloping mine, he presses kisses against my neck and shoulders as we sit quietly for nearly an hour, listening to the water lapping at the shore.
He lets me ramble about my past. He's surprised to learn that I lost my virginity on the tiny army cot in the room downstairs, but he's even more shocked when I tell him about how I lost my vision for months after the fire at Reva's. I'm suddenly reminded that we still have so much to learn about each other as individuals, and now we'll be adding living as husband and wife and first-time parents to the equation. To deny that I'm more than a little worried about what our future holds in store for us, would be a lie, and I take a deep breath as I stare off at the water in the distance. Sensing my unspoken fears, his fingers fan out over my belly, interlacing them with mine, and together, we caress the spot where I'll nurture our baby for the next nine months. I draw from his strength, feeling confident that we'll muddle through this together, our love intact.
He convinced me to try and take a nap before our appointment, and I finally gave into my exhaustion, stretching out on the uncomfortable cot as I agreed to rest my eyes for just a few minutes. "How long have I been asleep?" I ask as I wake with a start, my eyes focusing on his as he stands with his back against the window on the opposite side of the room, watching me.
"A couple of hours," he answers, crossing the room and sitting on the thin mattress beside me.
Panicked, I look down at my watch, and seeing that it's twenty-five after three already, I say, "Oh God, Danny... I'm sorry. I never meant to sleep for so long."
Smoothing my hair behind my ears, he fixes the smudged mascara underneath my eyes with his thumbs, insisting, "Don't apologize, baby... I love to watch you sleep." That's something that we have in common, I think, studying his eyes. "We do need to get going, though," he concedes, drawing my hands into his lap.
He pulls me to my feet when I nod my head, and I finally break the brief moment of silence that passes between us as I say on a shaky breath, "So... this is it, I guess."
Pulling me against him, he breathes a barely audible, "Yeah," into my ear, and as we embrace one another, I can feel him slightly trembling against me.
We ride in silence, each lost in our own private thoughts, and I close my eyes and draw in a deep, cleansing breath as Cedars looms into view before us. Parking in a spot close to the emergency room entrance, we walk hand in hand towards the automatic doors, and I send a silent prayer heavenward that Rick's not on duty this afternoon. I don't think that I have the strength to answer any questions right now.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief as we walk solemnly through the covered breezeway towards the Women's Health annex, my new sandals squeaking against the floor as we retrace the steps that I've taken since I was sixteen years old. When we step off of the elevator, Danny holds the door to Dr. Sedwick's office open for me, and I walk to the reception desk to register, unable to force my trembling hand to remain steady as I sign in. Sitting next to him, I place my hand on his knee and take several deep breaths, trying to control the wave of nausea that suddenly attacks me.
Unzipping my purse, he locates my bag of crackers and hands one to me, rubbing my back soothingly as I begin to chew. I lean against him and close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the receptionist's voice as she calls to remind tomorrow's patients about their appointments.
"You ok?" he asks worriedly as the nurse peeks her head out from behind the door and calls my name. I nod my head even though I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I somehow summon the strength to stand on my own two feet. Our hands joined, Danny and I follow her behind the door, prepared to find out the fate of our unborn child... together.
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