Ch 29 – Christmas Eve 1988

December 24th came right after the shortest day of the year, but it always felt like the longest. Especially the afternoon seemed endless.

They had had a long Christmas breakfast with bacon and pancakes, and they would have a family dinner tonight, but until then, everybody had to fend for themselves.

Sam was still grounded for something that nobody had bothered to fill Jonathan in on. Because she couldn't meet any of her girlfriends, she spent all of her time yakking on the phone. Mona was gone, helping some friend 'wrap his presents' (whatever that meant – he didn't even want to know), Tony was downstairs preparing dinner, and his mom was in her office, working.

Jonathan cleaned Ralph's cage, a process that neither he nor Ralph enjoyed very much, but it had to be done. Then he double-checked that he had all his presents for tomorrow morning. And then boredom set in, forcing him to come up with a project to pass the time.

Fortunately, it didn't take him very long.

He lifted the camcorder to his eye and pushed the door to Tony's room open. Then he switched on the light and peered through the viewfinder.

The room looked like it always did, with Tony's bed and his dresser and his rug and the pictures of his family members on the wall. Jonathan wanted to document it so he would be able to return to the video later on, once the transformation was complete.

As he wandered slowly further into the room, careful to hold the camera steady and not to move too fast, he could already see it in front of his mind's eye: the game room in all its awesomeness.

They could put a TV in here. Maybe this year he would finally get a Nintendo for Christmas. Oh, and he wanted and air hockey table, like they had at the bowling alley.

It would be the best. If it ever became a reality.

Much to his frustration, Jonathan had made little headway so far with his mom and Tony. All week, whenever he had brought up the subject, they had only answered evasively, giving each other weird looks across the breakfast or dinner table.

These were not the googly-eyed looks of looove that had started sometime in the fall, but something more serious. Jonathan couldn't quite figure out what they meant.

Before he could finish his visual inventory, Sam burst into the room unannounced. "Hey, Dad? Where's my- … What are you doing here, you little creep?"

"Hey!" he retorted.

Sam being Sam, she marched into the frame without regard for his work and put a hand over the lens.

As far as Jonathan was concerned, Sam becoming his stepsister was the only real downside to his mom and Tony getting together.

The fact that they were a couple now didn't change anything in his day-to-day life. Well, okay, there was one thing: This whole touchy-feely business between Tony and his mom took a little getting used to.

Once, after dinner, coming back into the kitchen for a glass of water, Jonathan had walked in on them leaning against the kitchen counter, sucking face. It looked as if they were about to eat each other, and the whole thing had been pretty embarrassing for all three of them.

"I said: What are you doing!" Sam repeated.

"I'm shooting a documentary!"

"Of what?" she demanded.

Jonathan pushed the stop recording button on the camera and took it down, letting it dangle by its Velcro strap.

"It's kind of a long-time study. I'm documenting what Tony's room looks like now. So we'll remember it when it's our game room."

Sam laughed. "You're so stupid. What makes you think they'll go for your little-kid suggestion?"

"Do you have a better idea?" he countered.

"Noo," Sam said in that super obnoxious voice she sometimes used on him when she wanted to appear extra smart. "But did you ever think that maybe they already have a plan for it?"

"Like what? Your room used to be Mom's sewing room, but she never did anything in there, anyway. So we don't need one of those. And she already has an office."

Sam gave him a long look. "You really are such a child."

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are." She smiled at him mildly, and Jonathan wanted to hit her. "You don't even think of the most obvious thing."

"What?!" What did she mean?

Sam looked around as if trying to make sure nobody else was within earshot. Then she closed the door to the hallway.

"Did it ever occur to you that your mom and my dad might want another kid?"

What?

"Why? They have us!"

Sam shook her head. "Jonathan, Jonathan." She put a hand on his shoulder, and he pushed it off angrily. "You and I, we're not their kids. You're your mom's son, and I'm my dad's daughter. But most people, when they get together, they want a kid that belongs to both of them."

Jonathan hadn't thought of that before. It made a certain amount of sense to him that his dad and Heather wanted a baby, because they didn't have any kids out in California and he didn't visit very often. But his mom and Tony?

"Don't look so shocked," Sam said, a little nicer now. "Remember Marci's dad and your mom's friend Isabel? They had a baby last year. Even though they're kind of old, and she already has two kids and Dr. Ferguson has Marci."

Right. Jonathan had heard about that.

"And then this will become the baby's room?"

Sam shrugged. "If they ever have one, yeah. That's what I figure. But of course I'm only guessing."

The idea took shape in Jonathan's mind, and he wasn't impressed. "Do you really think they're going to have a baby?"

Sam hesitated briefly before answering. "Well, they're getting married sooner or later. And I know that my dad wanted more kids after me. If my mom hadn't gotten sick, they would have had at least one more."

Jonathan took this in. He had no idea what his parents would have done if they hadn't gotten divorced. His mom liked to work, and babies were so impractical! They screamed all the time, they needed to have their diapers changed multiple times a day, and they couldn't do anything for themselves. If his mom and Tony had a baby, she probably wouldn't be able to go to the office for a while. And with Tony in college – how was all of that supposed to work?

"I never thought about that," he said dejectedly.

"Who knows, maybe they won't do it. All I'm saying is – don't be so sure this is going to play out how you want it to. And stop pestering them about the game room. Or I'll start suggesting they turn this into a guest room." With that, she turned on her heels and walked out the door.

"But we never even have any guests!" Jonathan said lamely and a tad too late when Sam was already halfway back to her own room.

Wearily, he sat down on the foot of Tony's bed. He though back to Thanksgiving in Los Angeles. His dad and Heather had talked about nothing but the baby. The baby in a tent in the jungle, the baby in the mountains, the baby swinging in a hammock, teaching the baby sign language so it would be able to talk to gorillas. Why had nobody taught him that when he was younger!?

Jonathan dug in his pocket for the lens cap. He wasn't in the mood to work on his documentary anymore.

ooooooooo ... ooooooooo

"Hey, buddy!" Tony said when Jonathan came into the kitchen. "There's the camera. I've been looking for it."

"I just borrowed it. I wanted to try something."

"That's okay. I just wanna be sure we charge the batteries for tomorrow morning. We've got to start taking more photos and video. So your mom and I can watch them later, when you kids are all grown and we feel old and nostalgic."

"Uh-huh," Jonathan said tonelessly and set the camcorder down on the kitchen table. Then he plopped onto his chair.

Tony put down the knife he had been slicing carrots with and took a closer look at Jonathan. He seemed … sullen.

"Something wrong?"

Jonathan pursed his lips. At first Tony thought he would have to make another attempt, but then the question burst out of Jonathan. "Is there a reason you and Mom won't turn your old room into a game room?"

Oh.

"We just haven't decided yet," Tony tried to sidestep the issue. "All of my stuff is still in there, and it will be until your mom and I make things … official."

"Until you get married?"

"At least until then, yeah."

"Mh-m." Jonathan started fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

Tony abandoned his knife and cutting board altogether, checked the oven timer out of the corner of his eye, and pulled out a chair next to Jonathan. "What's with the sudden rush about the room?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, unsure if it was truly wise to push right now, but also unwilling to let Jonathan stew in whatever was bothering him. It was the holidays, after all, and they were best enjoyed carefree.

Jonathan was silent for a while before he looked up at Tony with a pensive expression on his face. "Do you think you and Mom are going to have more kids?"

So his instinct had been correct all along. He scratched the back of his neck to buy himself some time. "What makes you ask that?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It's what married people do, isn't it? Have babies. And you and Mom are going to get married."

"Not all married people have kids."

"But most of them do. My dad and Heather are going to have one. And Dr. Ferguson and Ms. Schaefer did, too."

"That's true."

"So?"

Choosing his words carefully, he began, "You know, we might."

"But why? You already have Sam and me."

As his mind raced to formulate an answer, Tony felt his ears grow warm. He really had to stick the landing here. If he said something now that made Jonathan feel insecure about the idea of a baby sibling, things would become infinitely more complicated down the line.

"Well, because it's a beautiful thing, Jonathan. To have a child with someone you love."

Jonathan nodded and looked away. "It's not the same, huh? Because Sam and I aren't yours together?"

"Hey, hey! Of course you're ours."

"Yeah, but not … like that." Jonathan gave him a pointed look.

"Well, true. But that doesn't change anything. We're a family, remember? I love you like a son, and your mom loves Sam just like a daughter. And don't forget: Without the two of you, your mom and I wouldn't have met!"

The thought alone made Tony want to shudder. If Sam hadn't started getting into fights when she did, and if Jonathan's child psychologist hadn't recommended a male influence ...

Jonathan sighed heavily. "Yeah, I guess. But you said you might – so you're not sure yet?"

Tony was starting to sweat a little, his thoughts immediately going to Angela. During the week leading up to Christmas, she had begun to feel a little under the weather here and there. In fact, she was in her study right now, taking an afternoon nap.

"We're just taking things one step at a time. Look, we're not even married yet. And remember when we talked about, how … stuff works? You can't exactly plan a baby like you plan to get a puppy, you know? It's a little more complicated, and it's very personal. But in case anything happens, you and Sam will be the first to know. I promise."

This was probably the most worthless promise Tony had ever made, considering that he had already told two people outside of the immediate family, but he chose not to focus on that right now.

"Okay," Jonathan said quietly. Then, after a beat, "If you and Mom have a baby, it's going to get your old room, isn't it?"

Tony nodded. "It probably would, yeah. We couldn't put a baby in the garage, you know?"

At this, Jonathan perked up. "But maybe Sam wants to move in there! She's older, she could use some more privacy. And we could still have a game room."

Tony nudged him playfully and winked. "No way, pal o'mine. In what universe would Sam ever go for that?"

"Right. My mistake. There's no phone in the garage."

"Exactly. But I tell you what – maybe you and I can take a closer look at the basement. There's some unused space down there."

"Yeah?" Jonathan asked hopefully.

"Yeah. Why not." Tony gave Jonathan a little slap on the back. "It's going to be great."

ooooooooo

"Fully cooked and non-alcoholic," Tony said as he ladled eggnog into two tall glass mugs.

"Smells heavenly."

Angela stood next to him at the stove, wearing her fluffiest bathrobe over her pajamas. It was almost eleven o'clock, and after a lavish dinner and the non-negotiable Perry Como Christmas special, the kids had been sent to their rooms so they could put the presents under the tree in preparation for Christmas morning.

Now that everything was ready, all that was left for them to do was to relax on the couch for a couple of minutes before they, too, would head up to bed.

They were still being discreet about it, or at least they were trying to be, with Tony only coming over to Angela's bedroom late at night and getting up early enough so the kids wouldn't see him.

But he wasn't naïve: No matter how much trouble they went to now, as soon as they told the family about the baby and when it was going to arrive, there would be questions. If not the kids, then Mona would do the math, and she would come up with Thanksgiving. They would just have to live with that.

Tony planned for them to be engaged by the time Angela started showing, so at least they would have an official cover of sorts where the outside world was concerned – Angela's office and the neighbors, the PTA, half of Brooklyn, and whoever else took an interest in their personal lives.

He handed Angela one of the mugs, and they clinked them together before taking the first sip. Angela licked eggnog off her lips and gave him a soft smile. It was the most beautiful sight, and it made Tony's hands and feet tingle, as if he were standing on a ledge somewhere, looking down into the tempting abyss.

"Good?" he asked.

"Very good."

"I'm glad."

Tony was relieved. He had half expected Angela not to like it, seeing as her stomach had been acting up as recently as this morning when he – admittedly – underestimated the effect that the combined smells of bacon, pancakes, and eggs would have on her.

Angela popped into the kitchen to say good morning (again), but walked right back out, holding an explanatory hand in front of her nose and mouth. Luckily, Tony had set the breakfast table in the dining room, so the kids hadn't noticed anything.

With one hand on the small of Angela's back, Tony guided her towards the kitchen door.

The week before Christmas had been a much-welcome return to something like normalcy after the rollercoaster ride of the week before. Tony still felt dizzy when he thought about it.

First the realization that Angela was late, then her fear of mumps followed by the positive pregnancy tests, his sub-par performance on his final exams, Sam's refusal to continue working at Angela's office, their late-night fight in the car, and finally Sam's date with that little punk, Eric. Tony's adrenaline began to pump if anybody so much as mentioned his name.

This week, Angela had been busy at the Agency and with a number of business-related social engagements that she just couldn't get out of. Three out of five nights, she went straight to bed as soon as she came home.

For his part, Tony tried to put the stress of finals week behind him. He caught up on housework and took care of a couple of other things that he wanted to have ready in time for the holidays.

He also kept a close eye on the kids to gauge how they felt about his and Angela's relationship being out in the open now. As it turned out, there wasn't too much to observe: Both kids seemed to be doing well, and Tony allowed himself to feel happy about how things had gone so far.

But Jonathan's question about more kids this afternoon had been a reminder that the biggest change of all was yet to come and would likely be more challenging to navigate.

Once they were settled in on the sofa with Tony's arm around Angela's shoulders, he decided to broach the subject.

"Jonathan asked me something this afternoon, while you were napping."

"What was it?"

"He wanted to know if there was a reason we didn't want to turn my room into a game room."

"What did you say?"

"I said we haven't decided yet, but then he asked me outright if we're going to have more kids."

Tony felt Angela take a deep breath and began to stroke the hair at the nape of her neck as he continued, "And I said that we might. And that he and Sam will be the first to know if there are any news of that kind."

"How did he react?" Angela asked, turning her head to look at him.

"He asked why we would want more kids when we already have him and Sam."

Angela bit her lip. "And then, what did you say?"

"I said because it's a beautiful thing to have a baby with someone you love." Tony held her gaze, his fingers still playing with the wispy strands that had fallen out of her ponytail.

"It is," she said softly.

Then he continued, "Jonathan was worried that we want a baby that's 'ours' because somehow he and Sam aren't enough."

"Oh no. My poor darling. This is going to be difficult for him."

"I told him that I love him like a son, and that you love Sam like a daughter. It doesn't matter that they're not ours in that way."

Angela nodded, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for talking to him about this."

"I was thinking … maybe we can make it easier for him. Say, we remodel part of the basement. Nothing too major! But you know, once the little one gets here, Jonathan might want to have someplace he can go and listen to music or play some video games without waking the baby."

They had finally caved, Jonathan was getting a Nintendo for Christmas.

"He and I could plan it together. Pick out a sofa for down there, maybe get some new games or a pool table or something. Did I ever tell you my dad taught me how to shoot pool?"

"No, you didn't," Angela said with a smile. "And you're right, I think it would be a good project for the two of you to have. Maybe Sam will want to help with the nursery when the time comes. That way, they can both be involved in something if they want to. And they won't feel they are any less important to us."

"Sounds like a plan," Tony hummed and drew Angela closer to his chest.

"Do you think Jonathan suspects anything?" she asked after a while, toying with the tie on her bathrobe.

Tony put his eggnog on the table behind the couch and reached for the tie as well, tugging on the other end until the knot came undone and he could slide his hand inside the robe.

"Nah, I think he asked about it because we're going to get married. He said that married people usually want to have babies. Like Michael and Heather."

"That makes sense." Angela nodded. "Speaking of which, when I call Michael tomorrow, I'm going to have to tell him," she said. "Not about the baby just yet. But about us. I don't want him to hear it from Jonathan."

"Yeah, of course."

"Are you grinning?" Angela asked without even looking at him. It was as if she could read his mind.

"Me? No!" Tony said, unable to keep said grind off his face.

Playfully, she slapped his hand that had come to rest on her stomach. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"What's giving you that idea?"

She was right, of course. It did fill Tony with a certain sense of pride that Angela loved him, that she wanted to be with him, and that she was expecting their baby.

"I can tell from your voice. And it's all over your face," Angela laughed.

Tony tried to bite the insides of his cheeks so he would stop grinning, but to no avail. He gave up. "Hey, just let me be happy here."

"I look forward to telling him, too," Angela admitted. "A little bit. Remember what you said when we danced in Los Angeles, after Michael's wedding?"

"About him having been dumb enough to walk away from you and Jonathan?"

She nodded and interlaced her fingers with his. "Getting divorced was never part of my dream. But it is what I had to go through to get here, with you. I feel very lucky that everything turned out this way."

"Me too," he said, suddenly sentimental as memories of Marie and baseball and the pullout sofa in the apartment on Pitkin Avenue and Sam with her black eye came to him in brief flashes, like fireworks.

"Merry Christmas, Tony," Angela said quietly, and once again it seemed that she was able to read his mind.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he said and leaned in.

Their lips met for a slow kiss that tasted of vanilla and nutmeg, and a peculiar mixture of emotions coursed through Tony, immense joy and deep grief, but above all: gratitude.