Don let himself into the apartment and stopped short, listening. Dammit, she's throwin' up again. Jeez! He winced at the sound of her in the bathroom, retching with another bout of morning sickness. It was early afternoon, the day before Halloween. She was eight weeks along. Another month of this torture? Fuck. Don was working tomorrow, and Angie had planned to go spend the evening with Marilyn and hand out candy at the market, but at this rate... he put the grocery bags on the kitchen table and went to check on her. He rounded the corner into the bathroom and was literally frightened by the sight of her. She was leaning against the wall, her face an appalling shade of greenish-white.

"Oh, jesus, Angie..." he wanted to cry. He hated seeing her like this, especially since there wasn't a thing he could do for her.

"I don't wanna be pregnant any more. This just sucks." She started to cry. Don was almost overwhelmed with frustration at being so powerless. He was angry, too. He wanted to punch a hole in the bathroom door. He clenched his fists at his sides and took a deep breath. That's not gonna help, Flack. Calm down.

"Could you get me some water?" she asked weakly.

"Yeah, I'll be right back. Hang in there baby." He went back to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the bottle in the fridge. He looked at the bags on the table, wondering how long the perishables could sit out. Then he took both the bags and put them in the fridge. I'll sort 'em out later.

She was still sitting against the wall when he got back to the bathroom. Her face had a bit more color, and he prayed that this bout was done. He handed her the glass, and she took a large sip. He sat down on the floor and positioned her so she was leaning against him instead of the wall. She sighed. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and wished briefly that he'd gotten a wet washcloth before he sat down. He looked up behind him. There was a towel hanging on the bar. He pulled it down. "Gimme the water a sec." She handed it to him. He poured some on a corner of the towel and used it to wipe her face, then laid it on her forehead.

"Oh, that feels wonderful."

He handed the water back to her. "Drink some more of that. You'll be dehydrated."

"I'll probably just puke it up."

"Better that than dry heaves."

"Good point. I feel a little better. Maybe it's over with for now."

"I hope so. I can't stand seein' you like this."

"I didn't mean what I said, about not wanting to be pregnant anymore."

"I know. Just relax." They sat quietly for a few minutes. "Could you drink some ginger tea?"

"That sounds good. But I'm afraid to get up."

"Well, let's try. You don't wanna spend the evening on the bathroom floor, do ya?"

"No, not really. Ok, lemme try to get up."

Slowly and carefully, they got her up and out of the bathroom. She wanted to sit on the sofa, which Don wasn't sure was a great idea, but she pointed out that she could watch TV and distract herself from her queasy stomach. He had to admit that made sense. He got her settled and went to sort out the groceries and get everything put away, after he'd put a mug of water in the microwave to make her some tea.

He handed the mug to her, and sat down beside her. "Is it always this bad, sweetie?"

"No. This is worse than I've had, except for just a few other times. Usually I'm just nauseous, and even when I do throw up it's not that bad. I was feeling better so I ate a sandwich, and then I started to feel sick. I have to remember not to eat too much at a time. I just never know when it's gonna flare up. So frustrating."

"Frustrating is right. I hate it that I can't do anything to make you feel better. It makes me feel guilty that I got you pregnant."

"That wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't anyone's fault. It happened because it was meant to." She didn't say anything. She just sat with her eyes closed, breathing evenly, as if concentrating.

"Is it comin' back?"

"No, I feel ok right now. If I was meant to get pregnant then there's no reason for you to feel guilty."

"I'm sorry, I shouldna said that. I just feel so bad that you're suffering so much. It's not fair."

"It'll pass. You can make it up to me by changing diapers at 3am after the baby's born."

"I'm there. Never doubt it."

"You know what I'd really love right now?"

"What's that?"

"To climb into your lap and let you hold me."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She climbed onto his lap and he wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back and breathing in the scent of her hair. He felt something strike through him; an overwhelming feeling of love for her, and for the baby she carried. It started in his solar plexus and flowed through him like a wave, and it was so intense that it brought tears to his eyes. My God, she is the center of my universe...

"Are you crying?" she asked him.

"Yeah. But it's not a bad thing."

She snuggled against him, her arms around his neck. "I love you too."

Angie did go to Marilyn's on Halloween. She convinced Don that she was feeling well enough to go. Truth be told, she just didn't want to stay home alone while he was out working late into the night. Marilyn would take care of her if she got sick. They'd talked about it earlier in the day.

"I really wanna come over but if I get sick..."

"I don't think you'll be feeling sick that late in the evening. Besides, if you're feeling bad, I'll take care of you. I've got ginger tea here, and I'll make you something mild to eat for supper. I know you don't want to stay home alone. What time does Don go to work?"

He's going in at 4pm and he'll be gone till whenever. He could be out all night. Maybe I should just stay over at your place."

"Well you're certainly welcome to if you want. I've got no room mate right now, so the bedroom is available. Can Don bring you by on his way to work?"

I'm not gonna get sick, I'm not gonna get sick, I'm not gonna get sick... Angie was fighting it. They were in the car, working their way through the streets on the way to Marilyn's. The market wasn't far from their apartment, but the motion of the car was not playing nice with Angie's stomach.

"You ok?" Don asked her.

"Yeah."

He looked over at her. "No you're not. You're pale. Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't want to stay home, and if I get sick, Marilyn will take care of me."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. Of all the people I know, she's the one I trust most to take care of you. What I meant was, are you sure you're feelin' up to it?"

"I'll be better once I'm out of the car."

"We're almost there." It was quiet in the car for a few minutes. Then Don spoke.

"Hey," he said.

"Hm?" She looked over at him.

"I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too. Don't worry about me. I'll be ok."

"I know. I won't worry, but I'll be thinkin' about you. It's you who need to not worry about me."

"I'll give it my best shot."

She saw him shake his head and smile.

She doesn't look too steady on her feet... Don put a hand on Angie's back, guiding her up the stairs. She was still pale and he could tell that she wasn't feeling too great at the moment. Marilyn opened the door before he could knock.

"Hey you two, come on in. Ooh, looks like somebody needs a cup of tea." Marilyn pulled Angie into a hug. "Sit down, honey, and I'll get it for you. Don, how you doin' hon?"

"I'm good Marilyn. Lookin' forward to a night of Halloween nutcases."

"You really do love your work, don't you?" Marilyn asked as she put the kettle on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm weird that way. You sure it's ok for her to stay the night?"

"I've been looking forward to it. Once we get her tummy settled, we're gonna carve jack-o-lanterns."

"Oh, that'll be fun," Angie said. "I wish I felt better."

"You will. It's early."

"I better get movin'." Don went over to where Angie was sitting at the kitchen table. He lifted her chin and kissed her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun."

"You be careful out there tonight." She looked worried.

"I promise. I love you."

"I love you too. G'night."

"Night Marilyn."

"Good night honey." She gave Don a hug. Don smiled at Angie and left the apartment.

"Here's your tea, baby."

"That's what Don calls me. 'Baby'."

Marilyn chuckled. "Baby's carryin' a baby."

"Yeah."

Marilyn felt something. She looked at Angie and saw that she was crying.

"Oh, honey, why are you crying?" She pulled a chair over next to Angie's and put her arm around her. Angie's pretty face had crumpled and tears flowed down her cheeks.

"I don't know, Marilyn. I'm tired of being sick. But..."

"You're pregnant. The hormones make you more emotional. It's normal. And as for being sick, you'll feel better in a little while. It's early. And this isn't gonna last forever. In a month you'll be fine."

"I don't know if I can handle another month of this."

"You will, just like every other woman who's been pregnant. Just relax. You're getting stressed out over it and that's just making it worse."

"Did you get morning sickness when you were pregnant?"

"I didn't with James, and I thought I'd be free of it with Darnell. Boy was I wrong! I got really sick with him."

"I'd like to meet your sons."

"Well you'd have to go to California to meet James. He lives in Los Angeles. And Darnell is in Nashville."

"Don't you miss them?"

"Of course I do. But I talk to them both at least twice a month and I know they are both doing fine."

"Any grandkids?"

"Not yet. Darnell isn't even married yet, and James and Aisha are in no hurry to start a family. Being lawyers keeps them pretty busy."

"They're both lawyers?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow. I remember you said James was a lawyer but I didn't know his wife was too. And is Darnell still working at that recording studio?"

"Yep. Hey, let's go sit in the living room. I don't suppose you're hungry..."

"No, don't even mention food right now. But the tea is helping me feel better. Thanks."

"I told you you'd feel better."

"You're so good to me, Marilyn."

"I think of you as the daughter I never had."

"What? Oh, you're gonna make me cry again."

"No, don't cry. Comere." Angie stepped into Marilyn's embrace. Marilyn sent calming, soothing energy into the younger woman's body through her hands. Not many people knew she had skills as a healer. She didn't advertise it. She did have clients, so to speak. Angie knew of her skills, and was more than happy to let her use them.

"Whatever you're doing feels wonderful," Angie muttered.

"I'm glad. Come on, let's go turn on the TV."

They made a mess on the kitchen table, but they had fun carving pumpkins. They kept it simple; just the classic jack-o-lantern face on two large pumpkins. They took them downstairs and set them on the lower steps, and brought two chairs down to sit on while they handed out candy. Marilyn didn't want any kids falling down the steep stairs to her apartment. The store was still open and would be till 9pm. The clerks on duty were dressed in costumes. Angie was finally feeling better. Marilyn had made her a light supper of rice, a bit of chicken and some vegetables. Angie ate sparingly but did have her appetite back. Marilyn had dressed them up like witches, complete with pointy hats and broomsticks. Angie had completely forgotten about a costume, and she was glad Marilyn had remembered.

The last rays of the sun were fading into dark when the first group of kids came around. Angie had always loved Halloween, the feeling of magic in the crisp Fall air. The costumes, decorations, jack-o-lanterns flickering on porches and in windows. Angie had spent her childhood years in a residential area and had memories of the neighborhood porches and front yards decorated with spooky lights, ghosts made from old sheets hanging in trees, grinning pumpkins and school carnivals. When her father died her mother had lost the house and they'd moved to an apartment in a rough part of the city. The loss of her father, her friends, her mother when she had to go to work, and the familiar comforts of childhood, had pushed her toward a group of people who made her feel like she belonged, but who were criminals, and who dragged her down with them.

"I love Halloween," she said to Marilyn.

"Me too. It's my favorite holiday."

"It's been a long time since I handed out candy," Angie said, watching as the kids came down the street.

"In a few years you'll be taking your own child trick-or-treating."

"I know. It's... it's like a dream. Something I never thought would happen to me. There was a time when I didn't even see a future for myself. And I didn't care. I was just along for the ride."

"What changed your mind?"

"You know. Don changed my mind. From the moment I first laid eyes on him, my life changed. I finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The whole time I was in jail I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was almost like love at first sight. I kept telling myself I was crazy to even think I could have someone like him. Like, I had the audacity to think I could land a cop? Yeah, right. I couldn't believe my eyes the day he came into the market looking for me. I literally thought I was hallucinating. And then remember how I was so unhappy when I didn't hear from him for over a week, and I thought he'd only taken me out because he felt sorry for me? Or that he'd come to his senses and realized how crazy it was to take an ex-con out on a date?"

"I remember that very well. I remember how despondent you were. You felt like you didn't deserve him."

"And you kept telling me that he'd be around when he had time. That he was a cop, and they stay busy in New York."

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yep. You were right."

Once the trick-or-treaters had gone home to get sick on candy, the two women put the original "Halloween" in the DVD player. No matter how many times she saw it, Angie still enjoyed it. It was a classic thriller. They put the pumpkins on the end tables and turned out the lights in the apartment. They munched on crackers and peanut butter instead of popcorn, and drank ginger brew. They sat together on the sofa and hugged each other at the scary parts. They finished the evening with "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", and then got ready for bed.