"Tony, what's wrong?" He's been distracted all evening, although still affectionate with me and the kids.
He sighs. "Well, I may as well tell you. Waller wants to extend my contract."
"Oh."
"For two more years."
"Oh, I see."
"I told them no of course, but I still feel bad about it. For their sakes I mean."
"That is very flattering. You said they were happy with your work, but I had no idea they were this happy."
"Yeah. It means I'll get a good recommendation when I move on."
I hesitate and then say, "What if you don't move on?"
"Huh? Give up teaching? Why would I do that?"
"No, I mean, what if you stay at Waller?"
"Are you crazy? With you having a baby? It's one thing for me to be gone while you're in the second trimester, but there's no way I'm going to be gone after the baby's born!"
"No, I mean." I swallow, because this will mean a sacrifice. "What if the kids and I move back to Indiana as long as they want you at Waller?"
"What about your agency?"
"I could take the time off, stay home with the baby. And if I'm in Indiana, it'll be easier for me to stay away."
I can see he's tempted. It's close to the life he once imagined having with Marie, except without him being on the road playing baseball. He'd be surrounded by his immediate family. And there's a side of me that would like a life like that, something more traditional, at least while the baby is small.
"And what if they keep extending my contract? What if we're out there ten years? Or twenty? Are you going to be happy being a housewife that whole time?"
I don't know how to answer that. Probably not. "Well, I could get a job when the baby goes off to kindergarten."
"Uh huh. And what? Throw away the business you've been building up all these years?"
He's right. It's just I don't want him to regret turning this down. "What if another job this good doesn't come along for a long time?"
"I don't care. It's more important to me to be with you and the kids, but here, at home. I'm finishing out the year because it's what you wanted and it did seem fairest to Waller."
"But, Tony—"
"Besides, what about the kids? It's not fair to uproot them like that."
"They'd adjust. Children can adjust to anything."
"Yes, they can, but I don't want them to. Dammit, Angela, don't you think we've had enough upheaval in our lives?"
"I'm sorry, Tony," I say quietly.
"Baby, look, I know you mean well but we're supposed to be a team."
I nod. "Yes."
He shakes his head. "I wish you'd never been married to Michael."
I look at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Sometimes I think that was no more of a real marriage than your marriage to Brian Thomas."
"Tony, I had a child with Michael. We bought this house. We built a life together."
"You did and you didn't. He was gone all the time and you've told me he was never really present when he was here. And I've seen it. I've met the guy, talked to him over the years. And he wasn't interested in being part of a team. From the sound of it, this Heather girl, well, she's 'assistant to Michael Bower,' right?"
That's what we heard him say about her "career," that she helps him on his films. It's like she has no separate identity from him. "Yes."
"He doesn't know what it's like to come to decisions together, but sometimes I'm afraid you don't either."
I'm hurt but I can't deny what he's saying. I slowly say, "Michael was usually gone and all the little decisions and some of the big ones, too, were ones I had to make alone. It's not like I could've called him up on a safari or whatever he was up to and said, 'Michael, the plumber's bill is outrageous! What should I do?' "
"Yeah. And I think you've slipped into that while I've been gone. Which I understand. And you've been wonderful, cooking and cleaning and helping the kids with homework. Punishing them when necessary."
I feel like I'm too lenient with the children. It's harder to put my foot down than it is with my staff at the agency. But they're good kids, they really are. Yes, they get into mischief, Sam especially, but nothing serious.
"But I want to be part of all that again."
"Couldn't we be a team in Indiana?"
"We could. But I don't know, I'm just an Eastern Seaboard kind of guy."
I nod. "I guess I'm an Eastern Seaboard kind of girl."
He kisses me on the cheek. "Then why are we trying to be something else?"
I sigh. "I don't know, Tony. I guess I don't know how to relax and just take what life gives me, good or bad."
"Yeah. But, look, in another month I will be back for good. And in four months after that, you'll have the baby." He caresses my stomach. I'm starting to show now, not a lot but some. I haven't yet felt the baby kick. I realize that I'm glad that he'll be here for that, if not the first time, at least one of the first times. And do I really want to uproot myself at a time like this? Shouldn't I stay here where my friends and doctor and mother are?
"You're right. About everything. And I just realized, if we leave for two years or more, what about Mother? She wouldn't want to move to Indiana and we'd all miss her. And she'd miss us." Mother is very unsentimental but I know that the family is as important to her as it is to any of us.
"Yeah," Tony says but as if he's thinking of something else. And then he says, "I think I need to be here to mourn Pop, really mourn him. It's like I've not really felt it being away so much. I need to go back to Brooklyn this summer, see it without him."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"Of course. We've got to show this belly off to everyone."
"Tony!"
Then he scoots down the bed and pushes up my nightgown. He softly kisses my stomach. "Five more months, Angie."
"Yes," I say softly.
"And then we'll meet him or her."
"Yes." I think of how if we all moved to Indiana, I'd be cheating Tony out of what would probably be very proud moments, an Italian man showing off his very pregnant and very beloved wife to all his old friends and neighbors. And I also think of how in some ways our lives are just beginning. There's so much that still lies ahead. Raising our children, continuing to build our careers. I still don't know how much time I'll take off for this baby, but it will be easier with his support.
"Angie?"
"Hm?"
"You wanna have more?"
"More what?" I think he means kisses, because he's still kissing my stomach, but closer to my chest.
"More babies."
"Oh, Tony, I don't know. We haven't even had this one yet."
"OK. But that's not a no, is it?"
"No, it's not a no. But don't expect a dozen."
He laughs. "I don't think we have time for a dozen."
I'm not sure if he means before I hit the years when it'll be riskier for me to get pregnant, or if he means hours in the day. "Probably not."
He looks up at me with those magical brown eyes, which can be both bedroomy and puppy-doggish, sometimes at the same moment. "I also want time for us, you and me."
"Oh, Tony, so do I!" Yes, we could have that in Indiana, but I think it would feel like we'd still have our lives on hold in some way. Maybe waiting just another month for him to move back, even if it means temporary unemployment for him, really is the best.
"And I think I'm willing to give up reunions after this weekend."
It's his last visit home. And we've spent enough time for now in talk.
