Warning: Contains adult language, sexual innuendo, and . . . . .even worse Maggie.

"A Womb with a View"

It's morning, coffee, paper, bed. I know mornings like this are numbered. Abby's still asleep. I can risk the coffee. The smells don't bother her anymore. She's curled up, her back to me. Every now and then she makes little noises. I wonder what she's dreaming. I'm almost through with the Sports page when she starts stirring, rubs her eyes, looks at the clock then at me, then at the clock.

"We're going to be late."

"We're not on today." I remind her.

"We have my prenatal appointment and ultrasound today. Don't you want to meet Junior?"

"Junior and I are already well acquainted." I roll onto my side and rub my hand over her belly.

"Don't start that, or we'll really be late."

She's up and out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

I get up and pull on my jeans, "Why are we having the ultrasound?"

Her mouth's half full of toothpaste. "Everyone has an ultrasound."

"Everyone in America has an ultrasound."

She spits, and skips that comment. "It will be reassuring."

"Okay, but I still don't want to know the sex."

"But then we could pick out half the names, we'd get the right color clothes and we could paint the nursery . . . "

"Surprises are good, not enough surprises in life."

She looks at me skeptically.

"Not enough good surprises anyway. Besides it will give us something to talk about."

I'm whacked soundly on the backside for that comment.

"Luka, it just seems like there are so many uncertainties, I don't know . . . ."

She's serious now.


I shrug, "Certainty is over-rated."

"You think?"

"Yeah"

I sit down to pull on my shoes. She comes and stands in front of me. She rakes her hands through my hair. I run my hands up her back. I'm always amazed how small she feels under my hands.

"Well, I have to admit the last couple of surprises I've had in life have been pretty good." She's smiling down at me.

"So we wait?" I question.

"We could be surprised today."

"Not the same"

"Really?"

"Really"

"Alright, we'll wait and be surprised on his birthday."

"His. . . . or hers"

"Exactly"

It's funny being on the patient end of things. I've seen these scans many times, done them myself. Today it's my baby, and it looks, well it looks like a small suitcase or something like that. But no, now I see it the heart, the spine, kidneys, it all looks good. Everything is in the right place. She was right; it's reassuring. When the tech is done she turns her back. I sneak in a kiss on her belly and whisper "safe journey, little one" in Croatian.

In that moment, I realize, this isn't about her owing me something, or life owing me or even me owing myself. This is about a man and a woman falling in love and making a baby. That's it, it's that simple, and that complicated.

Today is worth celebrating. I'm taking my girl out tonight, dinner, dancing the tango, whatever she wants. I'm in the shower singing loudly, badly and in Croatian.

She opens the shower door. "Good it's only you, I thought there was a cat dying in here." Damn she's saucy.

She's stark naked, I let my eyes take her in I love the changes, subtle but there, her breasts, the gentle swell of her belly . .. beautiful.

"I need some help."

"You certainly do, I'll call a voice coach stat." She's taking me in too.

"Well, you can if you like, but I'd prefer you, there's a spot I can't reach."

"Try the loofah on a stick."

"Real men don't use loofahs."

She sighs and rolls her eyes feigning exasperation "If I must."

She steps in and slides her hands up into my hair pulling me towards her. We kiss like we're 16, long and slow and deep. She starts to take matters into her own hands. I push her away gently and get down on my knees.

"Hey what about your spot?"


I grin up at her "I never said it was my spot."

See I told her surprises are good.

*************************************************************

It's time to face the music, the Croatian music that is. My little old ladies from the Croatian center where I volunteer demand an audience. They weren't pleased Abby and I got married quietly. Let's face it they weren't pleased that I married Abby instead of one of their granddaughters. Still they're happy to see me, happy to see us. Abby gets roped into a Bingo game. I make the rounds.

After a time one of them tells me to look at Abby. She's holding a baby, staring down at it with such a bittersweet expression on her face. I look away. I have a strange feeling. I turn back, look at the baby. Marko, he looks like Marko. No, not quite, Marko was darker. The memory floodgates open for a minute. I see Marko, a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket in Dani's arms. Marko laughing as I hold him high over my head. Marko just learning to walk, looking up at me, ice cream all over his face. . . . Marko lying lifeless in his crib, I shudder.

I turn away and lean forward to make my excuses. Really I lean in so no one will see the look in my eyes. When I'm composed I walk over to Abby. My voice is calm, my expression nonchalant. Years of practice, it makes you good no? It was nothing really, just a moment, moments happen. Everything's good, no worries. Her hand feels warm in mine. Mine just feels cold.

*************************************************************

Tonight another gauntlet, Maggie's coming to visit. She didn't want us to pick her up at the bus station, so we don't. She's coming by cab. I want to make conversation. I want to make this okay for Abby, but nothing comes. I'm too nervous for her. I know she knows it, and she's worried for me. I'm slicing bread when she knocks; the knife falls. " Shit".

We answer the door together. I'll take that as a good sign.

Things seem to be going well. It's obvious that Maggie is on her meds, managing her illness. Abby takes her on a tour of the house, dinner's uneventful, everything's okay. I take a breath and start to relax. Then Abby excuses herself. I'm on my own. Well its only fair, Abby had to handle Ivica.

"Luka, I'm so happy for you and Abby, I think its just wonderful about the baby."

"Thank you so do we."

"Yes, of course I know how much this means to Abby, but I'm sure it means a great deal to you too."

"Of course"

"I mean, well Abby told me about your loss, I'm so sorry"

Crap.

"Thank you. How was . . . ." I try to change the subject.

"I mean to lose your wife must have been horrible, but the children. Well I'm a mother, and I don't think I would have survived losing Abby and Eric. I know how hard it must have been for you."

You have no fucking idea.

"Yes, it was difficult. And what . . . "

She cuts me off again.

I feel myself back in that room, Marko's bloodied and broken and I'm breathing for Jasna, my lungs ache.

"But still these things seem to work out in the end . . . . ."

Things work out? My family dying is "things working out"?

" and here you are with Abby and the new baby."

Yes, the new baby because my other babies are gone.

I can't do this. Not with Maggie of all people. I blink hard.

"Maggie, I'm sorry but I don't think I can discuss this. How is Eric?"

She's apologetic. I smile wanly, wave my hand. "Don't worry it's nothing. Where is Eric stationed now?"


There thank God, she's telling me about Abby's brother. I can nod my head and fix an appropriate expression on my face. I can do this. I've done this a thousand times. Abby comes back. They start to talk about names, I fade out.

I knew I'd have to take it out and look at it again sooner or later. Things like this don't stay in the background all the time. The bad moments come and go. There's nothing linear about healing. I had just hoped to wait and do it after the baby was born. My new baby. Born. Now I'm in the delivery room. I'm holding Jasna her body slippery and warm. She's so beautiful, my baby girl. Then I'm with Marko. He came so fast that I delivered him in our kitchen. I feel his hair smooth as silk under my fingertips. Then in an instant all of him is in my hands and he's looking up at me with the biggest eyes . . . . .

Back to the conversation. It's an old trick, being two places at once. Insert comment, about the baby, my baby, my new baby.

Oh God, she wants to know if I'll be in the delivery room. I can't make the words come. How do I tell her I just was in the delivery room, two of them. Then I'm there with Abby. She's looking at me with eyes round as saucers, she hurts and I'm the one to help. "Luka" she moans. She's counting on me, and there's not a damn thing I can do. Shit.

Suddenly I don't know if I can be in there. They want an answer. Abby looks at me expectantly. I'm a fucking coward. I feel sick. I stumble. I prevaricate. I leave, coffee go make coffee. I automatically go through the motions. I didn't expect this, I mean I knew there would be feelings. But this is like being hit by a 20 foot wave. It has me spinning, the guilt, the loss, the sadness, the frustration, the fear. And worst I feel like I've let them all down, Jasna, Marko, Danijela, Abby, our baby I want to start opening cabinets and breaking things, but I subdue the feeling. I lean my hands on the counter and squeeze till my knuckles go white. I lower my head. My head throbs, my lungs ache. I shiver. I'm cold.