Title: This Thing About Birthdays

Author: Andrea

Author's Note: So here's the much-anticipated (at least by Catherine, anyway) Chapter 5. Um, there's really not much that can be said about these boys. Uh, I mean, this chapter. Or maybe it's just that some things are better left unsaid. So I guess I'll just say "PANTYHOSE!" and let you get on with your reading. Oh, and anybody (besides Catherine) who can tell me the big Dick McStreaker shout out gets a prize.

Disclaimer: You still can't find them? Check Eminem's basement … maybe they're down there with Dr. Dre getting their mad rap on. Or maybe not.

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This Thing About Birthdays

Part 1

Chapter 5: Close Your Eyes and Make A Wish

"Well, that's kinda … weird." I say as we walk down the sidewalk, arms entwined, snuggled up together.

"What?" He asks me, the picture of innocence.

"That. You know. Those two … going on a date."

"A what?"

"You know. A date. Two people going to dinner together. A date. That thing we never did."

"We've gone on dates."

"I don't think sobering me up at Doc's or climbing on top of me on a gurney in a trauma room counts as a date."

"Ha ha. That's not what I meant. I took you on a date just last week."

"Oh …" I laugh, "I don't think taking me to Toys R Us to look at strollers and carseats and playpens counts as a date, either."

"Hey, I bought you popcorn."

"Still doesn't count."

"I buy you dinner all the time."

"Carter … I don't think calling up the Chinese place that delivers would really be considered a date."

"Well, maybe we'd go out more if you hadn't up and decided to do this." He says, gesturing to my belly. He's teasing, of course. A game we play where we try to 'blame' each other for our happy accident . Probably because neither of is good enough at expressing our feelings to say how grateful we are to each other for making this unexpected, yet ultimately very welcome, experience possible.

"Well, I didn't realize pregnancy meant that I could no longer eat."

"Trust me, Abby, in your case, nothing could be farther from the truth. I can't remember the last time I actually got to eat my whole meal. I'm a little afraid of what would happen if we went out for dinner."

"Hey!"

"Besides, you need your rest." I can't help but roll my eyes at the piece of advice that I must hear fifty times a day from him. "And 'dating' now … wouldn't that be sort of …"

"What?"

"Overkill?"

"What?"

"Redundant. You know, unnecessary. I mean, aren't we kind of past that?"

"Past what? Going out to dinner? Going to a movie or a play? Oh, that is so like a man. Now that you've 'got' me, you don't have to bother to be romantic anymore? We don't ever have to go out and do anything special? So this is how it's gonna be, huh? You figure that now that we're having a baby together, we should just sit at home watching Sesame Street all the time?"

"No. Not all the time. We can watch Blue's Clues, too. It's got that catchy little jingle …"

"Oh, so life as we know it has to be over because we're gonna have a kid?"

"Well, surprise or not, Abby, we decided to have this child. And if we're gonna be parents, we have to live up to that responsibility." I pull my arm away from him and turn to look at him like he's suddenly sprouted wings. He's kidding, right? He has to be kidding. What? Does he really think I'm not taking this seriously? The tears are brewing again, but then suddenly, I'm just angry.

"I know that. You don't think I know that? Jesus, John, I wasn't suggesting that we leave the child to be raised by wolves while we run around partying all night. What kind of mother do you think I'm going to be?"

"Oh, Abby, that's not what I meant. I know what kind of mother you're gonna be. A great one. The best. I mean, I wouldn't let just anybody have my baby." The anger disappears, and I find my self smiling in spite of myself, as he goes on, "I just meant that because we're having this baby, we might not always get to all the stuff that other new couples do. But that's okay, because we'll have something better … we'll be a family."

A family. A happy little family, just what I've always wanted. Made possible by him. I reach out and grab his hand, interlacing my fingers with his. Was I angry at him a minute ago? Not anymore. But still, there's something I want him to understand. I'm not gonna crawl into a bubble with the baby and sit at home all day. There's a great big world out there to show my child. Starting with this incredible city that we live in. And as much as I intend to be the best mother possible, there has to be some balance between Abby-the-mother and Abby-the-person. So it can't be all Sesame Street and Blue's Clues, just because we have a child. And part of being good parents is taking care of, not just the baby, but ourselves and each other … and our relationship. The baby will be our first priority, but not our only priority.

"Look, I know there might be some things that we'll miss out on once the baby is born. I just don't think that having kids means you have to be perpetually housebound. You can't be … kids need to get out and see things, learn about the world. So we can, and should, take the baby places, show her … or him … all the places that we love. And it'll be great to explore the city as a family. We can take the baby everywhere with us. Most of the time. But occasionally, you and I can still go out, just the two of us. And now, while it is still just the two of us, maybe we should do some of the stuff we haven't had a chance to do yet."

He has a thoughtful look on his face, and I know he's considering what I've said. He looks down at our hands for a moment before looking back up to catch my eye. "Yeah. I know what you mean. Don't worry, I'm not really gonna try to put you on house arrest. I would have done it already, if I thought I could get away with it." He smiles, but of course, I already knew he was joking. Hoped he was joking. "And I'm sorry if I've been a little overprotective, I just worry about you. But if you're up for it, then we'll do that stuff that we haven't had a chance to do yet. Tonight, in fact. We're out on a date right now, aren't we?"

"We're just taking a walk." So maybe I'm still pouting a little.

"Ah, but it's good exercise and not too strenuous."

"I'm pregnant, not sick … an evening of dinner and dancing isn't going to hurt me."

"Dinner and dancing? Ah-ha! See, we have been on a date. Dinner and dancing … and dinosaurs."

"Oh don't tell me you are try to pass off that evening at your grandparents' charity event as a date."

"Well, it was like a date."

"Yeah, except we were just friends, I was just doing you a favor, and if you'll recall, I was with Luka at the time."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Oh no, don't you go changing the subject."

"The subject? What subject? That I never take you anywhere? Well, I'm taking you somewhere tonight."

"No," I start, not willing to concede just yet that we do seem to be going on a date and so, I guess, maybe he does take me out sometimes, "the original subject. You know, about how you just happened to bring Luka along and send him off with Susan to wherever they are going. Where are they going? Or for that matter, where are we going?"

"Now, look who's changing the subject …"

"I am not."

"You are too. Trying to pump me for information about tonight. I thought the subject was Luka and Susan going on a date."

"Oh, I thought the subject was you pretending not to know anything about Luka and Susan going on a date."

"I don't know anything about it."

I give him my very best I-don't-believe-that-for-a-second look. "I never would have believed it."

"Believed what? That Luka would ask Susan out?"

"That John Carter would play matchmaker."

"Abby, I have no idea what you are talking about." But he can't quite suppress the little smile.

"Uh-huh. Sure. You didn't get Luka to come along with you knowing that Susan was with me and that one thing might lead to another."

"Of course not, I just wanted to make sure Susan got home safely. Now can we please change the subject?"

I consider this for a moment. Change the subject? Well, I can think of another subject I'd certainly like to move on to. Or get back to. We are heading down Michigan Avenue, Water Tower is towering over us. The night is beautiful. The stars are out and being winter in Chicago, it's cold … but not unbearably cold like the morning had been. It's actually kind of nice. But then, I'm used to cold winters, so this weather is just right for … whatever we are going to be doing. "Where are we going?" I demand more than ask. But he only laughs.

"You'll see soon enough. Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Screw that. I want to know what the surprise is."

"Nope. You'll see soon. Very soon. Soon enough that you really don't have to pester me about this anymore."

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to change the subject." Hmm, this is cruel, torturing me like this on my birthday. This surprise had better be worth it. I decide to approach this differently. "So am I dressed okay? I mean, this isn't too casual is it?"

"It's perfect. And you look gorgeous. I love the new clothes. You really look the part now."

"What part?"

"The having-my-baby part. And I love it. I love it that all I have to do is to look at you now, and I know it's real. I see the tangible proof of our love right there." His hand rests on my belly … and I can't help but grin tearfully at this sappy sentiment. Okay, so maybe sometimes we can express our feelings.

"Hey," he says, noting the tears welling up in my eyes, "No crying on your birthday."

"Not even happy tears?"

"Nope. Besides, we're here."

We're where? In Water Tower Park? This is the surprise? I hope it's not going to be another one of Carter's History of Chicago lessons. As a birthday surprise, that would really kinda suck.

"Abby? Aaaabby?" I turn around to see him standing at the curb next to one of the many horse-drawn carriages that wait on the street. He holds his arm out to me, and I reach for his hand, letting him guide me to the carriage and then help me in. Ah, okay, this is more like it. A carriage ride for two through the city still awash in the bright lights of the Christmas season. As we settle onto the surprisingly comfortable seat and curl up under the wool blanket, our … uh, horseman turns around and, with a wink, hands Carter a single red rose.

"Happy Birthday, Abby" he says, his voice soft and sincere as he hands me the rose. Not exactly left on his empty pillow like I was looking for this morning, but somehow, I think, even better. Why do I feel like crying yet again? Okay, I guess I'll have to forgive him for 'never' taking me anywhere. I don't know when I turned into this stereotypical girlfriend bitching about her boyfriend taking her for granted, anyway. Since when do care about being taken out and pampered? Chalk it up to the hormones. Or some latent desire to feel like a princess. Sure, why not? I seem to be stirring up all sorts of dormant feelings lately.

I gaze down at this perfect , delicate flower in my hand. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"Only half as beautiful as you." Okay, enough mushy sentiment. I can only take so much or I really will start crying.

"Okay," I start in my most playful tone, "don't you think you're laying it on a bit thick now?" He laughs as I continue. "I'll let you in on a little secret -- there's no need for the seduction bit, I'm pretty much a sure thing tonight. After all, it's my birthday, I'd better get lucky."

"Don't worry, you will …" And with that he leans in to give me a soft, sweet kiss … a very short little preview of things to come. Or so I hope.

Our horse starts to clip-clop along the streets. The carriage ride is surprisingly comfortable. Nice and smooth … but it's really not surprising, if Carter had thought I'd be jostled around at all on this little ride, we'd probably be in a limo right now. Assuming that the bubble Carter's trying to build for me isn't done yet. Ah, but it's sweet that he's so worried, even if the overprotective routine drives me nuts sometimes. I know it's just because he loves us. I smile, feeling happy, just enjoying being here with him. We're sitting in a comfortable silence, enjoying the city scenery passing us by slowly. With the lights in the trees lining the streets and the facades of the buildings, the city really is beautiful. The cold night air, the stars in the midnight blue sky, cuddled up under a warm blanket with my head resting against his chest … everything is perfect.

"Thank you." It's almost a whisper, I'm not even sure he heard it. But his arms tighten around me, making me feel safe and secure. I remember, in a flash, my spurt of anger at him a few minutes ago and earlier in the afternoon. That's gone now, along with my worries about whether or not we'll get married. I was right the first time, we don't need to get married. We're perfect just like this. No point in changing everything and taking a chance on that change ruining what we've got now.

"You're welcome. I thought you might like this carriage ride. It's kinda fun to slow down and really get a chance to enjoy the city."

"Yeah, it is. But that's not what I meant."

"Oh, what did you mean?"

Take a deep breath and tell him, Abby. "You know. Thanks for … for everything. For making this the perfect birthday. For always being there when I need you. For not giving up on me. For giving me the fairy tale."

"Abby … " he starts. But I don't let him finish.

"I just … well, I was just thinking earlier that I wouldn't be here without you. You know, the baby and all." The baby that's already made such a difference, and it's not even born yet. But, somehow, its mere existence has given me a new perspective, a happier outlook on life because now I know what's really important. And everything else, all the bad stuff that used to rule my world, doesn't seem to matter nearly as much.

"Well, yeah, without me, I guess the whole getting pregnant thing would have been a bit tricky." He chuckles at his cleverness.

"No, I mean, I don't think I ever would have had the courage to go through with it with anyone else. Being with you has changed things; it's changed me. I'm stronger now. And every time I look down and see the bulge that is our baby, I'm grateful."

"Me too." And his hand comes to rest on my hand that has strayed to my belly. I look up at him smile.

"It's just, for the first time in my life, it feels like things are perfect. I mean, not 'perfect' perfect, but good. You know? Like this is the way everything is meant to be … just … perfect."

"Well, not quite." I'm not sure exactly what he means and I can't quite place his tone, but before I can think too much about it, he abruptly changes the subject. "Are you cold? Do you want some hot chocolate? This place on the corner has the best hot chocolate in the city."

"Well, actually …" I'm about to refuse, thinking of my "snack" at the store and the hot chocolate I had there. But before I can protest, he's had our driver pull over.

"Great, okay. I'll be right back." And before I know it, he's left me here all alone in the horse-drawn carriage … with our horseman, Bob … or Fred … or Steve. And briefly I'm troubled because what if it turns out that Bob or Fred or Steve is a lunatic and he kidnaps me, and my body doesn't float to the surface of Lake Michigan until the spring thaw? Or what if the horse, Bob or Fred or Steve, is jumpy. And then someone comes along and slams a door or revs an engine and the horse goes crazy and takes off down the busy streets of Chicago and Bob the driver can't get Fred the horse under control? Okay, maybe these are quite unlikely scenarios seeing as how Bob the horseman looks about as old as my neighbor Henry. And Fred the horse seems completely undaunted by all the activity and noise of the streets. Still, you never know. I mean, in my life, I've learned to wait, to always wait, for the other shoe to drop. Because it always does. It's only been recently that I've let myself buy into the whole idea of happiness and I'm still not quite used to it. These aren't the thoughts I want to be thinking on my birthday; I need a distraction. I'm grateful to see Carter backing out the door of the corner shop with no hot chocolate in site, but a "Happy Birthday" Mylar balloon in his hand and a big grin on his face.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing." His best innocent face.

"Where's the hot chocolate?"

"Uh … they were out?"

"So you got me a balloon instead?" He climbs back into the carriage and we set off again on our steady pace through the city.

"Not just any balloon … see? It says 'Happy Birthday.'"

"Yeah, maybe I could see that, if it wasn't dark out here … so what's with the balloon?"

"What do you mean?

"Well, you bought me a balloon. And since it's dark, and I'm not 6 years old …"

"I bought it so you can make a wish."

"A wish?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to make a wish and let it go. Don't you know that?"

"I thought you were supposed to make a wish and blow out the candles."

"Well that didn't quite work out this year, so we'll have to settle for the next best thing. Come on, it's a Carter family tradition."

"I'll bet."

"Come on, Ab …" He's holding the balloon in front of me. I give him a look of exasperation, but in the end the puppy dog eyes win out, and I reach out and wrap my hand around the ribbon. "Close your eyes." Okay, I'm humoring him, so I do. "Keep them closed. And then make a wish and let go."

A wish … as much as I don't believe in that stuff, I figure it can't hurt. And of course I have a wish, the same one I have every day. That this happiness will last. That Carter and I will last. That the baby will be born healthy and grow up happy. I just want a happy little family. So that's what I wish for. I let go.

And I feel something drop into my lap. I open my eyes to find that the balloon hasn't gone anywhere. Instead , something has weighed it down, anchoring it. The something that fell into my lap. Under the stars and the street lights and Christmas lights strung in the trees, I can see that it's a box. Small and square. I pick it up. Red velvet. I think my heart has stopped beating. I know I'm not breathing. For a long moment I sit and stare at the box. Calm down, Abby, it's probably just earrings. Earrings, yeah, right, that's it. But what if it's not? Oh God. Suddenly a mad rush of feelings surrounds me. Happiness, relief, fear, uncertainty.

"Open it." His voice is gentle, but compelling. But I'm not sure I can. I feel like I would be opening Pandora's box, and that what's inside will change everything.

He sees my hesitancy, and for a moment a look of puzzlement or doubt crosses his face. Only to be replaced with amusement and he reaches over and gently takes the box from my hand.

"Abby," he starts, now holding the box in his own hand, reaching out with his other hand to take one of mine, "I love you. I love you so much that I can't imagine my life without you. For a long time now, I've know that you and I were meant to be together. Soul mates, maybe. We look at each other and share the same thoughts, the same feelings, like we are two halves of a whole. And the way you fit into my arms just right, I sometimes think that's exactly what we are. The yin and the yang -- two opposites that compliment and complete each other. I know you are my yang. It means brightness, beginnings, life -- that's what you are to me. I look into your eyes, and I see my whole world. Being with you makes me whole. Being with you makes me strong. You make me the best man that I can be. And the happiest I've ever been. Especially now that you're having my baby. And I love you all the more for it. For having enough courage and enough love to give me such an amazing gift. And I want us to be a family. Officially … and forever. I already know I'm the luckiest man in the world, but I'm hoping you'll make me the happiest. I love you, Abby. Will you marry me?"

He opens the box to reveal a beautiful ring. It's exquisite, yet simple. Nothing too flashy, but absolutely lovely. The tears in my eyes spill over my cheeks, and for once I don't even try to stop them. The lump in my throat prevents me from saying out loud all the thoughts that are tumbling around in my head. It may be just as well, since I'm not sure any of them are the least bit coherent. Well, maybe there's one thought that makes sense. It comes straight from my heart, for once drowning out the fears and worries in my mind. As much as I want to scream out my answer, I can't seem to actually speak. The tears coursing down my cheeks, I look into his eyes, biting my lower lip nervously. I'm sure he already knows my answer before I can manage to find my voice. I squeeze his hand and nod my head before I manage to whisper what may be the sweetest word I've ever said.

"Yes." I lean forward to wrap my arms around him and whisper into his ear. "Yes, yes … a thousand times yes. Of course I'll marry you." I bury my head in his shoulder, trying desperately to stem the flow of tears. But his lips find my cheek, and then my lips, demanding that I turn to him and give him full access. Our lips meld together sweetly, the kiss quickly turning deep and passionate and unlike any other we've shared. Because this kiss, much like the first kiss we ever shared, seals our fate and our future together. But unlike that first kiss, this one tells me that we are for keeps.

When we pull apart, he lifts my left hand and slides the ring on to my finger. It feels just right there. And I feel whole and complete. And I know that deep down, in spite of all my fears, in spite of all my philosophical musings, this is what I've wanted all along. What I wanted for myself, what I wanted for my baby. I just hope that he's not asking because of the baby. That's the last thing I would want. I don't want to get married because he thinks we have to or even that we should. It has to be just because it's what we want.

Finding my voice again, I tear my eyes away from the ring on my finger, and turn to look at him again. "Is this what you really want?"

"What? Of course this is what I want."

"Because I wouldn't want to get married for the wrong reasons."

"The wrong reasons?"

"We don't have to get married because of the baby."

"What? Abby, is that what you think?" I shrug. What was that Susan said about him being an honorable man and making an honest woman out of me? "Oh Abby, I didn't propose because of the baby. I meant what I said about loving you even more now that you're having this baby, but I was already planning this before we found out we were pregnant."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I've had this ring for a long time. It was just a question of when I would ask you. I didn't want to rush into anything, and I didn't want to scare you away. And I was trying to decide what would be the perfect time -- Christmas? Valentine's Day? And then I remember that you haven't exactly had the best birthdays … so I thought it was time to change that. When we found out about our little surprise there, I thought about asking you right away. But I'd already decided on your birthday, and somehow, I didn't want to change that. And I certainly didn't want you to think that I was asking out of some sense of obligation. Because I'm not. I asked you to be my wife because it's what I want most in this world. Yes, I think it'll be better for the baby, as well as you and I, but I promise you, my motives were purely selfish. I just want to fall asleep and then wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life."

I blink back the tears and look into his eyes. They are bright and shining and twinkling. I know every word he said was true. I reach up to kiss him, hoping somehow that this gesture is enough to tell him how much I love him, how much he means to me, and just how perfect my life is because of him.

When I pull away, I take ring box out of his hand. The ribbon still tied around the hinge is connected to the balloon that still floats around us. I carefully untie the ribbon and look up at the shiny surface of the balloon, which reflects the dark sky and the dancing stars, for just a moment before I close my eyes and let go. When I open my eyes, I can just barely make out an object floating through the air, lighted by moonlight.

"What did you wish for?" he asks.

I just shake my head.

"It's okay, you can tell me. I'm officially your other half now."

I look at him and smile.

"I didn't wish for anything. I didn't have to. You've already made all my dreams come true."

We kiss again as we ride along under the stars headed for destinations unknown. I don't know where we'll end up, but I know we'll be together for the journey. Him and me … and baby makes three, I think wryly to myself. But as long as the three of us are together, I know all my wishes have come true.