Note: Some Adult Language. Thanks for the feedback and support. We're heading into the home stretch. Hope you're still enjoying it.

"The Devil's in the Details"

We sleep in to an absurd hour and then lounge around the rest of the morning. I rub her belly with cocoa butter, and breathe her in. She still smells flowery from her bath last night. But then again so do I. A small price to pay for marital bliss. After the paper and her crossword, I feel we should do something with the day. "Let's go get the Christmas tree."

"Today?"

"Yeah, with what's left of it."

"Oh my gosh look how late it is. . .get your lazy Croatian ass out of bed."

"My lazy ass? Who brought you tea and toast and peanut butter and fruit and those little sausage things and the chocolate?" I roll out of bed and start to get dressed.

"I'm gestating."

"Yeah, but what a baby elephant?" She looks me up and down and reaches out her hands, and I haul her out of the bed.

"Sometimes it feels that way. Just how big were you when you were born?"

Uh-oh. "Oh you know, largeish"

"Largeish? That's not exactly a medical term." She's looking through the closet for something that still fits.

"I was a good size."

"Luka, how big?" She turns to look at me.

"Just . . well, ten pounds." Actually 10 lbs. 8 oz., but who's counting.

"TEN POUNDS? My God I was only 5 and a half you were almost twice my size"

"Still am on a good day."

"That's absurd I can't have a ten pound baby, How big were Jasna and Marko?" She dresses as she talks so I know she's not too worried.

"Oh, not too big, 8 1/2 and 9."

"Not too big."

"Abby the baby's probably not that big and what really counts is how big the head is."

"And the shoulder."

"And the shoulders, but don't borrow trouble. Is the doctor worried?"

"No"

"Okay then it's fine. Don't be too clinical."

"It's hard not to be I was a labor nurse for a long time. I know what can ha . . ..". She cuts herself off awkward for me, still on egg shells, which frustrates me.

"You're healthy, the baby's healthy, you're getting good prenatal care, taking care of yourself, everything will be fine." My voice broaches no argument. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she knows it's my mantra.

"You're right."

"We should do our homework." Time to change the subject.

"Our homework?"

"From class remember we're supposed to talk about the labor. Get on the same page."

"I was never big on homework."

"How'd you get through school?"

"Oh, I slept with the teachers." My face screws up and she laughs at me.

"I'm just kidding Luka".

"I knew that."

"Who'd have thought?"

"What?"

"That it would be nice to have a jealous husband."

"Mmmm"

"Well a girl's got to take what she can get when she's almost as wide as she is tall."

"Yeah, well a girl would get a lot more if she asked." We move to opposite sides of the bed to make it up.

"I'll keep that in mind. So what details should we discuss?"

"You want me to encourage you to try something else if you ask for an epidural, right?

"Right."

"How many times do you want me to do that? This might be pretty quick or it might be a long haul. If you ask more than once, I don't want to push you unless you want me to, but I need to know if you end up getting an epidural . . . . . . you're not going to feel I let you down later. So we should consider the possibility."

"That I'll wimp out."

"No, that a block might be the right thing to do for you and the baby at some point."

"Sorry, you're right. How about three times, four if I'm very close."

Damn. Shit. Fuck. Fuckety Fuck Fuck Fuck. "Okay." Lucky I have a good poker face because the thought of Abby asking for something and me not wiping away the pain as fast as I can is really tough.

"That's it, okay?"

"It's not about what I want it's about what you want. There's not much I wouldn't do for you . ."

"Good because you may need to insert yourself between me and a well meaning anesthesiologist." She says it as a joke so I decide to go with it.

"Well, I have a mean right hook."

"I bet." She's smiling, but the smile fads and then I can tell she wants to say something, but stops herself. Then opens her mouth again, but stops just short.

"What?" I encourage. She shakes her head no. "Come on what?"

She looks me square in the eyes. "Brian?"

I know what she's asking the minute the word is out. I look at her gauging what to say. I shift my weight and my gaze. I wasn't even sure she knew. I meet her eyes. "Yes."

She nods. It's like she's filing the information away, something she's known but not really known. Something her husband is capable of for better or worse. Then she surprises me. "I'm going to make some lunch. Want some?" She turns and walks out heading downstairs.

Shit. I follow. "You're angry."

"No, I'm not angry"

"Upset then. Disappointed in me." I grab her arm and stop her on the landing halfway down

She won't meet my eye. "No. I'm disappointed in me."

"You? Why?"

"Because I'm glad." She looks at me now.

I want to give her some kind of explanation. "I didn't want him to hurt you again, I thought if he knew someone was looking out for you . .. .no that's not entirely true, I wanted to hurt him. He could have ra . .. " I can't say the word. I leave her there and descend the rest of the way into the living room. I sink into a chair running my hands through my hair.

"Luka . . . "She's looking at me from across the room

"Once I knew you were okay. I went to the bar you said he hung out at. And I . . . .hurt him, not too much, but enough. He deserved worse." I swallow hard. There's nothing left to say. I don't know what I feel, I'm not sure what she feels.

"You did what you thought was right. And you gave me a place to stay when God knows you didn't owe me anything.. . . " The words are a struggle. " I've never been very good at letting myself count on another person . . . needing someone hasn't really worked out very well for me. .. ." She walks over to me as she talks her words heavy in the air. I pull her close lean my head on her belly. She puts her fingers under my chin and tilts my head till I look at her "until now". It's just a whisper.

I nod and kiss her belly, feel her hands on my shoulders. It's nice to feel absolved.

Finally she breaks the silence "Why don't you say it?"

"Say what?"

"I told you so"

"You want to do this now?"

"You don't?"

"No, we can." I take a deep breath, and I tell her what I've never told anyone before in my life. "When I was growing up, my brother Damir loved to give me advice. And I loved to do the exact opposite. Of course most of the time he was right, and he wasn't afraid to let me know." Boy this is going to be harder than I thought. "Sit next to me." She does.

"You don't have to do this. I didn't know it was so . . ."

"No, it's okay, I want to. About a week before the siege began, he calls me, tells me to send Dani and the kids . . . to stay . . . with him and Tatijana." I hear her take a breath but she says nothing. I'm looking at my hands, can't look at her not yet. "I told him no, we were staying together . . .that I'd take care of them . . .we'd be fine." I turn to look at her now. I can see that another piece of the puzzle has fallen into place for her. And I can see her sorrow for me. I take her hand. Still she says nothing.

"So when I finally saw Damir . . .later. . after everything. I was terrified. I knew if he said it, if he even thought it, our relationship . . . .it would be . . .over. . . dead. Another loss. But he didn't. He didn't say it . . . . . never even hinted at it, and for Damir that's amazing restraint. I've never said it since. God knows I never will."

"It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known. You do know that don't you?"

"Yes and no. I know it, I still don't always feel it. But it's different now then before. It's not as raw. It's not holding me hostage. The past can do that if you don't let it go. But if I'm overprotective of you, of the baby . . "

"I'll remind you." She starts twisting my wedding band, nervous. There's something she wants to say, so I'm just quiet and finally she starts. "When I had the abortion, I was absolutely certain I was doing the right thing . .the only thing really. But months later . . .I was working in OB and as I was writing out the nametags for a baby . . . .I wrote the date. . .and I realized it was . . . would have been . . .my due date. And I started crying out of no where. I had to leave the room, and I ended up locked in the bathroom crying for what must have been an hour. Crazy. It was the only time I ever cried about it. . . ..I think it was the right thing that I did . . . anyway if I hadn't . . . .I suppose I probably wouldn't be having this baby now . . . . ." Suddenly she stops and I can see recognition pass through her eyes as she's looking at me. "Oh God, Luka, I never thought of it like that . . .if . . . .I'm so sor" I put my fingers over her mouth to stop the word.

"Don't Abby, don't ever apologize to me, not for this, not for our baby." She nods.

I remember when she first told me about the abortion before we got back together. She seemed to expect my condemnation, was surprised even when it didn't come. I told her the abortion had nothing to do with me. I suppose at that time it didn't. Now I see it has everything to do with me, with us. We both made choices we thought were right, and both choices cost us a family. She can't articulate it, but I understand why she's telling me this now. She'd never say it, I'm sure she thinks it's too paltry in comparison to my loss, and born out of her own weakness in a way mine wasn't. But it's another connection, another way we understand each other, another tie that binds. Ironic the things that unlock the doors into one another. I guess really the doors were there all the time, we just didn't know how to open them. Hell for awhile we didn't even know how to find them. Lost souls, a cliché perhaps but true. We were feeling our way in the dark in more ways than one, and now that the lights are on there's more to see then either of us ever imagined, or maybe even dared to hope. It's as of our mutual but separate destruction had to happen. What's that bird? The Phoenix? Our love is like a goddamn phoenix rising out of the ashes of what we lost or abandoned. My eyes are brimming but I can see well enough to know that hers are too. I take her hand and bring it to my lips.

Her face alters from sorrow to surprise, and her breathing changes. "What?" She doesn't answer for a minute

"A contraction, so that's what they feel like, I always wondered."

"Strong?"

"No, not too bad. Don't look at me like that. I'm not in labor, I just had one contraction."

"That's how it starts Abby, with one."

"But it could be nothing let's just wait and see. Actually, I wouldn't mind getting it over with."

"You ready then?"

"Yes, you?"

"Yes."

"Liar"

"Not as big as you"

"Watch the fat jokes." I start to protest, but she just shakes her head and laughs.

"Thank you." she says.

"For what?"

"For telling me."

"Yeah, Dr. Phil would be proud."

"You really have strange television habits, Martha, I tried to warn you about her, Dr. Phil what's next?"

"Mr. Rogers?"