"Mona, why didn't you tell them?" Walter asks as he starts the car. (I'm too nervous to drive. I don't know how Tony managed it last night, with the snowy roads no less!)

"Well, Bonnie doesn't need to know, does she?"

"You know who I mean."

I sigh. "There's no point in their knowing when they probably won't be able to come home today and maybe not even tomorrow."

"But is that fair to them? It's going to come as a terrible shock when they find out that her labor is so difficult."

"Walter, this is my family. Butt out!"
"You wanna drive?"

"I'm sorry. You've been wonderful about everything."

"It's OK, Mona. You're understandably on edge."
"That is one of the great understatements of the century."
He smiles a little. I don't have to explain my jokes to him.

"Besides, what if everything turns out OK? Then they'll have worried for nothing."

"You mean like you're doing?"
"It is the parent's job to worry, not the child's. Oh, and if you tell Tony or Angela that I worried, that's it, we're through."
"Don't worry, I know you too well to do that."

I'm not used to dating someone who knows me. It's not just that we go back so far, although that helps. Less to explain.

And he let me get what sleep I could last night, trying to reach the ski lodge while I napped. Tony was surprised when Walter answered the door at midnight but too sleepy and distracted to ask about it. I'm very lucky Walter stayed over.

Poor Tony, all alone at the hospital. And Angela, my baby! Not alone but going through something that, no matter how many people are there, you really do do on you own.

"She's a fighter, Tony," I told him, when we last spoke, before I got through to the kids.

"I know, Mone, but she's also so vulnerable! And this—God, Mone!" His voice was horrible, a mixture of tears and fear and no sleep.

"She's strong but she needs you to be strong for her."
"I can't, Mone, I can't!"

"Yes, you can. Tony, you believe in God, don't you?"
"Yeah, of course! What kind of question is that?"
"Then pray for her. You find a quiet corner and pray till I get there."

"Yeah, I'll pray," he mumbled.

I'd never heard him like this, and it scared me as much as what he'd told me she was going through. He was like a lost child, with no one to comfort him.

When we get to the hospital, we quickly go to the reception desk.

"Excuse me, I'm Angela Micelli's mother and—"

"Oh, I'll page Dr. Hollis."

I don't like the sound of that. I wordlessly look at Walter, and he wordlessly hugs me. He keeps holding me until Dr. Hollis shows up.

"Mrs. Robinson?"

"Yes. This is Mr. Nordstrom."
"Good to meet you. Could you both come with me?"

I appreciate her not questioning who he is or why he's here. However, that still doesn't set my mind at ease about whatever she has to say.

She takes us to a small unoccupied room. I look at the empty bed and ask, "Where's Angela?"
"This isn't her room."
"That's not what I asked.

She grimaces. She's my age or maybe five years younger, but the grimace makes her look much older. "I can see you don't want me to ease into this."
"Into what?" I demand.

"It was a very difficult labor, very. More than I expected, even given Angela's age and its being a multiple birth."

"And?"

Faintly, she says, "Angela bled. A lot. We're doing what we can for her, but she is in critical condition."
"OH GOD!"
Walter takes my hand and squeezes it, hard.

"And one of the twins, he, well, he died."

This can't be happening. It cannot be happening.

"The other is a little fighter. Angela is, too, of course."

"Where is she? Take me to my daughter!"

"I can't. Not yet. I'm sorry. But I think you need to see Tony."
"Oh, God, Tony!" Horrible as I feel for Angela, his pain is something I can fathom, relate to. "Take me to Tony!"

"Of course. But not quite yet."
"Jesus, what kind of sadist, are you?"

She grimaces again and says, "I need you to cry, Mrs. Robinson."

"What?"

"I need you to cry it all out and then you can go see Tony and be strong for him."

"That's not how I work, Sister! Now take me to my son-in-law!"

She smiles a little. "I see where they get the toughness from."

"Thank you. Now where is he?"

She leads me down the hallway to the meditation room. "He's in there. I'll send someone for you if there are any changes."
"Thank you. And I'm sorry."
She shrugs. "I'd feel the same if it were my daughter."

After she walks away, Walter opens the door for me and we quietly go in. Tony is sitting in a corner, his head in his hands. My heart breaks even more for him, but I can't let it show.

Walter pats my shoulder but he doesn't move further into the room. I know that's his way of saying that he's here if I need him, but he's also aware of the friendship that Tony and I have always shared, beyond the typical mother-in-law and son-in-law. (Not that I have much to compare it to of course.)

Tony is so lost in his grief that he doesn't seem to notice me till I put my hand on his shoulder. Then he jumps and I want to laugh but I can't.

"I'm here, Tone."
"Oh, Mona!" His face is anguished. I've never seen him even close to this miserable. I don't know if I can do this.

But I have to. "Dr. Hollis told me, Tony."

Then he starts crying, huge racking sobs. I want to tell him that Angela and the other baby will be OK, but I don't know that, and I don't want to say it and then be wrong.

"I prayed, Mone! I prayed like you said. And God did this!"

"Oh, Tony."

"I'm a bad person. He's punishing me."
"Don't be stupid. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. And God doesn't work that way."

Then he sobs against me, like a confused little boy. I rock him in my arms like I'm the mother he lost over 35 years ago. I know that his grief for her, and for his father, and of course for poor Marie, is part of what he's feeling.

After awhile, the sobs subside and he sits up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so selfish! She's your daughter and I'm making it all about me."

"It's OK, Tone. Seeing you cry keeps me from doing it, and then I don't have to worry about my mascara."

He gasps in shock that I can joke even now, but he then he almost smiles.

Then Walter comes over and silently offers Tony his handkerchief.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Tony, have you gotten any sleep?"

"How can I sleep?"

"Nothing is going to happen for awhile. You need to rest."

He shakes his head.

"Tony, this isn't helping Angela."
"I can't help her. I can't do anything for her. I'm useless."

"I told you not to be stupid. Angela adores you. You are one of the reasons she's fighting for her life right now."

He winces.

"Mona," Walter says gently, putting his hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off.

"Do you remember what you said before the Senate four and a half years ago?"

He blushes. "You mean about her natural scent?"

"No. You quoted poetry."

"Oh, right."

"Why did he quote poetry in the Senate?"

I shake my head. That's a story for another time. " 'Do not go gentle into that good night/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.' Angela is not going. She's raging. You have to believe in her."

"But, Mone."

"Believe in her, Tony. Believe in her love for you, and for your family."

He suddenly gets angrily to his feet. "Where the hell are the kids?"

"The roads are still bad. They'll come as soon as they can."

"Yeah, right."

"Tone."

"We were supposed to be a family! That was all I ever cared about, making a family together. And now look at us!"

"We are still a family, Tony. We don't have to all be together in one place. We will always be a family."

He scowls and turns away.

I look at Walter and he says, "Tony, do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No thanks."

"Mona?"

"I could do with some coffee."

"OK. Tony, we'll be back in a bit."

Tony shrugs like he doesn't care, and he collapses back onto the bench.

I'm afraid to leave him but I have to. Walter takes my arm and guides me to the hospital coffee shop. He gets hot chocolate, which he shares with me after I finish my coffee.

"I don't know what to do, Walter."
"I know, Mona, I know. But you need to call the kids again."

"No!"
"Mona, somebody has to and you can't let it be Tony. The way he's feeling, he's going to lash out at them."

I sigh. "I know. I'm just not ready for another draining conversation."

"Let's go for a walk and then you can call."

"Well, let me check on Tony again first."

"OK."
We go back to the meditation room. Tony is curled up on the bench, sleeping.

I smile weakly. "He's such a little boy." Then I suddenly sob, thinking of my little girl and all the pain she's in. And her new little boy, struggling to hold on to the life he just entered.

Walter steers me out of the room before I can wake up Tony. And he takes me for a walk through the now barren hospital gardens, the flowers buried under snow.