Chapter 2: Morning
The doctors, specialists of Massive Dynamic, had forced the discussion open again as they presented their concerns. Experiments under the influence of heavy drugs, kicks to the abdomen, electroshocks, repeated hospitalization after she had been thrown into some walls, the car accident, which had them declare she wouldn't come back, the jumps between universes - how could anyone think it wouldn't make a difference?
About four months all the test results lay outspread on the kitchen table. Nobody felt like stashing or destroying it, as if they were hoping to find a better outcome one morning at breakfast. Olivia did not want to be the reason for Peter to die childless. Neither she wanted to be responsible for a child's death; his child's death. Peter already tried to keep any sorrow away from her, but also for Walter's sake he was not willing to risk the life of this small being.
"Mommy! Would you pleeze by some organic chicken wings today?" Two bony legs landed on top of Olivia's back and she gasped under the pressure, before pulling a blanket over her head.
"Hey! Toby! Get out of here!" Peter had chased his son into the bedroom and now clamped him under one arm in order to keep his end of the bargain: Saving Olivia some more sleep. But the four-year-old was wiry and strong, kept coiling up until Peter had to let go, shouting once more: "I want chicken wings!"
"Out!", Peter hissed again and pointed at the door. Toby started giggling at the sight of his father's barely serious face, but turned and raced into the kitchen's direction. Peter caught sight of the little hill of covers and couldn't do different, but to throw himself onto Olivia as well.
In the end it had been Ella, who threw a sentence into their cozy togetherness, which granted hope an advantage over fear. By now she was ten years old, a reflected and know-it-all creature; stress to her mother and pleasure to her aunt.
"That's all there is: risk", she had told them full of wisdom. "And if you guys aren't able to give your hope the slightest nudge, you're already lost without hope." Her eyes sparkled at the thought of having a little cousin.
When Olivia felt the air being pushed out of her lungs for the second time this morning, she groaned angrily: "How is Toby supposed to learn from this!"
"He's already disappeared, back to his toast", Peter excused himself.
"He's rather calling on everyone to go on a hunger strike", Olivia mumbled, still muted by the blanket she was buried under. Sometimes she wondered, how Toby was able to develop typical men-qualities considering being the only boy of four children. Full of pride he would explain everyone who'd understand his lisping language, what real men connected and distinguished: "Mowing the lawn, sending Baseballs into the sky (without destroying any birds), having a barbecue and drinking beer!"
In contrast to his older sisters he did not learn much later to babble his first words, but considerably worse. All the "s" and "sh"- sounds hissed through his vocabulary just like he whizzed through the house. While his siblings were painting, tinkering, reading or doing some other kind of quiet activity, Toby always seemed to be a fugitive. And who could blame him, since he always had two older ones breathing down his neck, watching each and every of his steps and leaving comments on everything he was doing. So in the end, it was not really a surprise that he took and filled exactly the one spot that still hadn't been taken. There existed no cupboard, no coat hook, no door frame or stair railing he had not climbed (some only once, before breaking them). He loved playing Baseball, making Peter's chest rise in pride, since his son was "an excellent left handed Batter!" He spooned the head out of his father's beer glasses and waited patiently next to the BBQ for his third steak to be gorged.
And now he had to suffer from his oldest sister's demand: "Only!Organic!Meat!" at home, since she had to watch a gruesome documentary at school about intensive mass animal farming.
"Three cheers to our educational system", Peter had commented, well aware that he would miss meat as much as his son, but Olivia found it to be the minimal dosage of rescuing the world, which they should afford in their current situation. But it hadn't been easy nor cheap to buy organic meat all the time and in Toby's opinion he had to wait all too often to get some chicken wings between his teeth.
Peter pulled the blanket off of Olivia's head and examined her for a moment. Her hair was all messy and her cheeks reddened, her breathing quick and shallow.
Two weeks later they had come to an agreement. What they had given to the world, was nothing to reclaim. Why should this be the point in time to be too frightened of the things to come? The excitement during the upcoming weeks found its comfort in the fact, that Olivia got pregnant right away. They kept it a secret over the first three months and Walter kept secret that he knew from the very beginning.
„Are you trying to loose consciousness under this blanket of yours?", Peter teased. Olivia shot him a furious glare, then looked at her clock radio and back at him. Peter held up his hands in defense. "Hey, listen! Who was the one – and let me remind you: when it was still dark outside – to push an icy paw against my chest!" Olivia's face changed immediately into guiltiness.
"I thought, you didn't notice", she croaked. Peter's eyelids twitched and for a second he seemed to feel remorse given her tired voice. (Although she could not understand it, he did not envy the fact that she still had to breast feed a baby at night one bit.)
Even with a face that read „Are you okay?" or „What's wrong?", one could step on dangerous terrain concerning Olivia. Sometimes he had to remind himself, that Olivia's detached, stoic way didn't mean, he could not reach her, though the way she demanded forthrightness always and everywhere could drive him nuts, considering it went without saying for her to shut some personal things away. All his life he had read other people, most of the time he stood to benefit from it, even lived from it. To have Olivia's number started a new category in his head.
Those collected experiences taught him not to push it, but to save his concern for later, whenever there would be something concrete to use against her. Olivia, who herself was able to interpret Peter's thoughts correctly most of the time, didn't miss his hesitation and waited tensely if and how he would continue his act.
"You thought wrong", Peter stated. "Anyhow, I am only acting in concern of your well-being." Saying this he clumsily tried to get hold of one of the curtains covering the window next to the bed. "And wanted to spoil you by giving you the chance to enjoy your favorite time of the day." As he then reached out with his other hand as well in order to let some sunshine in, Olivia pushed his already unsteady position over the edge by kicking his upper thigh. With a loud thud he landed on the floor and took the curtains with him. Immediately Olivia covered her face with the blanket again trying to hide her laughter, while Gloria started to bawl. This time loud and wide awake.
"Your responsibility", the voice from under the curtains announced.
Just before Christmas their little daughter was about to be born, three weeks early. The birth pushed every involved person to their limits. Walter emptied the closed cafeteria's snack machine during that night using Astrid's money and assistance and at the crack of dawn he emptied his stomach into the plant pot next to the reception desk.
Olivia started to get cramps four hours after going into labor, which made it impossible for her to relax her abdomen and the insensitive doctor barked at her: "If you wouldn't be so damn frightened, we'd all be able to have a calm birth!" What did he know about fear... or giving birth. Peter catapulted the man to the ground by planting a forceful punch on the guy's chin. Not until six hours later, after another doctor stepped in, some useful relaxing drugs and a makeshift splint for Peter's broken index finger, the newborn came to lie onto Olivia's stomach, who started to cry due to exhaustion and joy not paying attention to all the strangers in the room anymore.
When Olivia followed by Gloria entered the kitchen, Anne was complaining, pulling a suffering face: "I'm full, don't want my bread anymore!"
"Alright, don't panic. We're gonna share: One half for you, one for me", Peter suggested.
"Alright", Anne replied, "but I'm gonna have the smaller half." Peter bit his tongue to stop a cynic comment and cut the toast. Immediately Anne screeched: "That's not the smaller one!", but when Laura announced out of nothing "I'm gonna be a police officer when I grow up" it made Anne's aggravation get stuck in her throat.
„Me too!", she excitedly followed her sister's lead and Toby quickly added a „Me three!" and curiously glanced around, trying to figure out what they've been talking about. So far Laura's career aspiration concerned being a kind of girly vet, a kind of boyish astronaut and a kind of Laura-ish Judo champion.
The following week was one of the worst of their lives. It is one thing to fear for one's own and another to fear for another one's life. Now they had to worry about this tiny child, which had arisen from Peter's and Olivia's own life, but was already its own. "Unaffected and enhanced by you two at the same time", as Walter was expressing it in total awe.
Laura came down with Icterus, just like many newborns did. All her relatives, not counting her grandfather, refused to worry too much about it. But on the third day after her birth, she didn't open her eyes anymore, didn't drink and didn't cry anymore. Each time Olivia held the weak child in her arms, she would forget how to breath. Peter tried to carry it often enough. His fear found its expression in spitting at Walter to jump in a lake, when the old man had come up with the ridiculous idea of Icterus-supporting-pampers, a theory that told the story of his own huge anxiety.
Olivia's heart felt like it had skipped a beat; she didn't like the thought. Peter noticed it immediately.
"It's already five past- everyone get out!", he shouted energetically and his children toddled off to the front door. He himself shouldered his bag and grinned at Olivia.
„Tomorrow she wants to be part of the garbage collection service", he solaced her. Olivia grimaced and picked up Gloria to sit on her hip. Multiple "Byes!" and "Seeyoulaters!" echoed through the house before the door was smashed into its lock.
Olivia pushed Gloria's struggling legs into the highchair and reached for a toast. Toby was still noshing his own, totally determined and concentrated. He savored every minute of the Friday morning, when he was allowed to stay at home and Olivia followed his lead, since she'd never see him this relaxed.
Whether there had been one or four children- it never took them long to catch up with a daily routine. A daily routine, which became a constant, which became a habit. And Astrid of all people, who (a few years back) had declared that the work with Walter and every freak-show-element got normal, was questioning all too fascinated the chaos Olivia and Peter called routine and how they were even able to counter with composure, every time she visited.
The obstetrician recommended to feed the little girl with spoons of black tea and sugar. Two days later, almost one week after her brith, Laura finally started to drink again, slowly. Up to this point in time she had almost lost half of her weight. One night, when she glanced into the light on the nightstand and wrinkled her tiny forehead in the slightest way, as if she was seriously wondering about something, Olivia broke down in Peter's arms. Both of them had neither slept, nor said a word for a couple of days. Now he knew that the words, thoughts and feelings had been waiting for this moment, this little wink Laura gave the lamp, and therefore life would be capable of going on.