A/N: Title pretty much says it all :P. Please leave comments and reviews if you feel like it, they make my day. (this should be a short multi chapter 2-3 maybe)
"I thought I'd call before the next seminar, just check in on you." The line went silent, a crackling static in his ear as he waited for her response. "Mindy?"
She still didn't answer, but he could hear the stuttering breaths she took, an attempt to tamp down the tears. Thousands of miles away and the sound of her breath catching in her throat still sent a frisson of worry fluttering through him. "Are you crying?"
"N-no." The word started on a delicate sniffle and ended on a little whine.
"Mindy." This time his voice was stern. If something was wrong he needed to know what it was. Being so far away made him feel utterly helpless. This was the very reason he'd tried to beg off attending this particular conference. He couldn't do anything for her. "Tell me, please."
"Alright, fine!" She sounded a little angry, but that anger wasn't directed at him. He unconsciously let out a little relieved sigh. He could handle angry tears, especially if they were directed at someone other than himself. "It's stupid, I'm aware of that, and if you say 'that's stupid' I'm going to go to JFK and get on a airplane, and fly to California just so I can slap the hell out of you."
He waited, feeling more at ease with each angry sentence. Things were fine. "Did you watch one of those interspecies friendship videos again? You know the one with the cat and the duck makes you cry every time."
He was trying to make her laugh, a futile effort it seemed, since she merely sniffed indignantly into the phone. His voice softened. "I won't say it's stupid. I promise."
She swallowed her tears, clearing her clogged throat. "There were only two cherry sour patch kids in the bag I bought today, and normally that wouldn't be a big deal, but I was craving them all day, and it was the only thing I wanted when I got home, and there were just two."
She sounded so utterly heartbroken, he had to pull the phone away from his face so she couldn't hear the poorly stifled laughter.
"I hear you laughing. You clearly don't get it, jerk!" She was crying in earnest now, blowing her nose in between little sobs. "These cravings control me, Danny. It's your chubster demon spawn inside of me. All she wants is cherry sour patch kids, all day long, every day."
"Alright, alright, settle down." He spoke softly, a placating tone he'd learned to implement when there really wasn't anything he could say or do to change the situation.
She ignored him. "And the worst part is, there are a dozen lemon ones, just sitting in the bottom of the bag, mocking me."
"Mindy, thats-"
"Don't you say it!"
"... totally understandable."
She laughed, pulled out of her funk. "Oh, my god, no it's not, it's totally stupid." She sighed. "You know, there's a twenty four hour bodega just down the street…" She trailed off, an idea clearly percolating.
"Don't even think about it. You're on bed rest."
"Danny, you're not my OB. Dr. Andrews said-"
He cut her off. "I always thought that guy was a quack. I saw your chart. He should have put you on bedrest, told you to cut down your sugar intake, but no, he just-" He was getting wound up, the volume of his voice elevating from it's previous soft tone.
"Danny! Ugh, enough, I won't walk to the bodega. Don't blow a fuse." She yawned into the receiver. "I'm too tired to move anyway. I need to take a nap."
"It's the middle of the day. That's why you have trouble sleeping at night."
She didn't like the Danny-knows-better tone he implemented, so she decided to go for the low blow. "I have trouble sleeping because you're not here beside me and I'm a little lonely."
"Oh." The single syllable word tumbled out on a sheepish exhalation. She smiled, fully aware that on the other end of the line Danny had a helpless grin on his face, that fool-in-love look he always got when she said something that surprised him. She held her silence, waiting for the inevitable words to follow. "I love you, Min."
He waited, in breathless anticipation. It was the same any time they spent a little time apart, as though he wasn't quite sure how she would respond, as though she might have changed her mind in his absence. She shook her head. The man was a neurotic mess sometimes. "I love you too, Dan. Go to your seminar and learn about natural birthing methods, so we can steal all the Deslauriers business."
"Sweet dreams."
Danny ended the call, his chest aching as he shouldered his messenger bag. There wasn't anywhere he would rather be than at home with Mindy, napping the day away cuddled up beneath her overstuffed comforter. He'd give his left leg just to splay his hand across her distended abdomen, to feel the fluttery, almost imperceptible movements of their child.
He turned to walk into the hotel conference room, taking a mere three steps before he stopped again, retrieving his phone. "Ma, uh… could you do me a favor?"
Mindy had lied, a little lie. It hurt no one really, but it was a lie nonetheless and she still felt a smidge guilty about it. Her tears had not been caused by a lack of cherry flavored candy in her life, well, not completely anyway, but it was an easy excuse to use, having cried over candy before (Twizzlers and Red Vines are not the same thing, okay).
She'd been weepy all week, not having Danny constantly hovering over her, jumping slightly every time a funny look crossed her face. Something that she'd been seriously annoyed with, but it seemed she missed it when he was gone. It had been quiet. No annoyingly outdated music filtering from the bathroom in the morning. No blender whirring in the kitchen before dawn, mulching up some disgustingly healthy concoction.
She was at loose ends, not being able to go to work. While Dr. Andrews hadn't commanded bed rest, he had suggested she start her maternity leave early. Puttering around the giant apartment had left her far too much time to think, or rather, overthink. The niggling doubt in the back of her mind running around in circles as she reorganized her closet by color. She had hoped the quick call would help. It hadn't.
She didn't know if she was ready for this kid. Her due date was looming, creeping closer with every day, and she still hadn't finished any of the parenting books she'd bought, a leaning stack of them on her nightstand still. The nursery was unpainted, the crib a pile of dark stained boards lying in the middle of the empty room.
But those were just things, things that Danny no doubt had a meticulously outlined schedule for completing. He'd read all the books, marked dates on the calendar hanging on the fridge, even reminded her to take her vitamins each morning. This anxiety she was feeling wasn't new. Each time the little shadows of doubt entered her mind, all she had to do to wave them away was glance over at her husband, squinting to read the newspaper, picking up her socks, giving her an appreciative glance in the mirror.
But he wasn't here, and the thoughts that had accosted her infrequently before, were coming in droves. How could she be a mom? Children were an enigma to her. Babies, sure, she understood babies. Cute little bundles of joy who cried and laughed in equal measure, cuddly little monkeys that loved you unconditionally and puked on everything. She could do that, all of her medical knowledge giving her an edge over most new moms.
The big stuff, the sex talks, the crying because of bullies, the questions about life. It all made her feel panicky. She'd barely gotten the hang of life herself, and now she was expected to guide someone else through it.
Again, normally she'd feel this tight fear in her chest, the breath catching in her throat, a stress gag coming, and she'd just look over at Danny and all of it would magically wick away, because he was there, and he could help. She didn't have to do it all alone.
But she was alone, right now anyway, and it sent her thoughts spiraling to places that were hard to come back from. Danny wouldn't be here forever. He was older than her. Sure, not as old as she made out, but with his tendency toward stress, and the nasty habit of smoking that had already shaved possible years off his life, she couldn't help but envision a bleak future wherein she was a stunningly beautiful widow (she knew she looked good in black) left to raise a child all on her own. She didn't think she was strong enough for something like that.
Even contemplating trying to pull herself out of the bottomless well of grief that would be a Danny-less world made her feel impossibly small and helpless.
That's why, when the doorbell started ringing incessantly, Mindy was rolled up in her blankets. A human burrito blocking out the outside world with her fluffy shield, a few hot tears rolling down her cheeks when she got too deep into her thoughts.
Struggling to extract herself from the makeshift suit of armor, she eventually tossed the whole mess into the floor. "Morgan, I told you to leave me alone!" Her voice rang out across the living room, the irritation clear in its tone. "For the last time, the baby doesn't need a pet. Stop bringing your dogs over."
Her hand was on the doorknob, gripping it in preparation to swing it open when she remembered Danny constantly admonishing her for not using the peep-hole. Pressing her face against the paneling, she gazed through the lens, the warped image staring back at her setting her teeth on edge. "Shit." The softly whispered curse puffed against the door.
"I heard that, drama queen. Let me in, I have something you want."
The distinctly accented voice would have tipped her off, even without seeing the tiny woman arching a finely plucked eyebrow toward the peephole. She sighed and swung open the door.