Saturday, December 18, 1976
"Al, would you bring me some tomatoes, please?" I asked as I broke the lettuce in the salad bowl.
Al placed a small bowl of cherry tomatoes on the counter. "This looks like it's going to be the best salad you've ever made," he said.
"You always say that," I chuckled, swatting his hand away from the tomatoes.
"I know," Al grinned. "Because I like my reward for the compliment." He leaned forward and kissed me. As we pulled apart, his hand shot out and snatched a cherry tomato.
"Do you like the reward, or the way it distracts me so you can steal a taste?" I teased. Al's grin grew even more mischievous as he popped the tomato in his mouth.
Shaking my head at him, I reached for the bottle of Italian dressing Al always made especially for me. There wasn't a store in the world that could stock salad dressing as good as his. It was one of the many little things I had missed while he was a POW.
The timer dinged. "Lasagna's ready," Al announced. He lifted the steaming pan from the oven and placed it on the stove to cool next to the bread whose fragrance had been filling the kitchen.
I'd just finished with the salad and was wiping my hands on a dish towel when Al came up from behind and wrapped his arms around me. "Do you want me to light the candles?" he asked as he nuzzled my neck.
"Mmmm, that would be lovely," I murmured. I twisted in his arms to kiss him.
"You know," Al said between kisses, "I could stand here all night like this. . . . But then . . . all your hard work would go to waste. Not to mention," he added, caressing my enormous stomach, "I think Little One would be quite upset if we skipped supper, don't you?"
He helped me bring the dinner into the dining room, or, more specifically, allowed me to follow him with the bread. The light from the tall candles cast a warm glow on the table.
"Oh, Al," I smiled.
Al had tracked down an old-fashioned glass milk bottle and put it in a crystal ice bucket as if it were a bottle of the finest champagne.
"And you say I'm an incurable romantic?"
He shrugged with the impish grin back on his face as he kissed my cheek and pushed my chair in. Momentarily acting as waiter, Al filled each of our glasses with milk before taking his seat.
"To Little One," he toasted, raising the flute. We clinked glasses and took a sip.
"To Apollo," I added. Al hesitated before touching his glass to mine.
We ate in silence for several minutes. Growing concerned, I touched his hand. "Honey, what is it?"
He gave me a wan smile. "It's nothing, Beth."
"Don't give me that, Al Calavicci. You've been chattering all evening, and then you clam up when I mention Apollo? What's wrong?"
"Well, it's just . . I . . ." Al paused, trying to find the exact words. "I'm not exactly crazy about the timing of this mission."
"Timing? Al, you'll get to be in space on Christmas Eve. I wish I could see how beautiful that'll be."
"That's it, honey. I won't be with you this Christmas."
"Yes, you will." I reached for his hand. "Maybe not physically, but you'll be here. And you better believe that I'll be right in front of that TV when they televise your mission."
The baby kicked. I guided Al's hand to my swollen stomach so he could feel it as well, covering his hand with my own. We shared a smile as the baby kicked again. "Both of us will be here waiting to celebrate Christmas with you when you get back," I told him.
"I love you, Beth." Al kissed me passionately.
Dinner was forgotten for several minutes.
As we washed and put away the dishes, Al grew serious again, and no amount of my teasing could draw him out of his somber mood. He didn't explain it until we were relaxing on the couch in front of the fire.
Al took both of my hands in his. "Beth, are you sure you'll be okay while I'm gone?" he asked.
"Of course I'm sure," I smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm not due for almost a monthyou'll be back way before then. Plus, Sally is right next door if I need anything."
"I still worry about you," said Al, pulling me into his arms. I snuggled my head against his shoulder. He kissed my temple and his hand drifted down to caress my stomach and our unborn child.
"You worry too much," I said. "If anyone's going to worry, it'll be mewith you leaving tomorrow, and the launch in a few days."
I looked into the eyes of the man I had fallen in love with almost sixteen years ago. A brief image of the young ensign I had met at the Officers' Club during the New Year's Eve dance ringing in 1961 passed across my mind. Al's eyes had never changed over all the years. Oh, they often darkened with painful memories, but they still sparkled with the same spirit. I remembered his rare insecurity as he'd approached me to ask me to dance. I never told him how I'd seen through his confident façade, but there had been a subtle difference in his manner at that moment that caught my attention. I'd had my eye on a lieutenant, but once Al swept me into his arms to the sound of "Georgia on My Mind," I forgot anyone but him. If I had any doubts, our first kiss dispelled them. And now that smart-alecky ensign was a commander on his way to the moon.
"Promise me two things," I said.
"Anything, baby." Al ran his fingers through my hair.
"Be careful."
"And the second thing?" asked Al. He planted a tender kiss on my lips.
"Enjoy yourself up there in the stars."
"Then the second stage rocket separates, and we'll be in orbit."
I was propped up against a stack of pillows in our bed. Al was curled up on his side next to me, his head balanced on his hand, as he talked to the baby. My pajama top was bunched up under my breasts, and he rubbed my bare stomach as he spoke.
"We'll orbit for a week, and then we re-enter the earth's atmosphere and splash down."
"Don't you think it's a little early for an aeronautics lesson?" I teased.
Al stuck his tongue out at me, and resumed his one-sided conversation, "And then I'll be back home with you and your mommy." He leaned forward and kissed a small bulge where the baby was poking me with an elbow or foot. The bulge receded and re-emerged a few inches further over.
"I can't decide if I look like something out of a horror movie or like I swallowed a beach ball."
"Neither," Al said, stroking my pregnant belly with both hands. "You look gorgeous."
"Was that gorged or gorgeous?"
Al sat up and adjusted my top so that it covered my stomach again and took my shoulders in his hands. Between kisses, he said, "Gorgeous. Radiant. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Take your choice."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," I smiled. I pulled his head to mine and kissed him deeply.
When we broke apart, he said in a sensuous voice, "Baby, if we only could, I'd take you now."
"If we could, I'd have already taken you," I countered.
His eyes and smile widened and he kissed me again, ardently. The baby fairly danced within my womb, and I guided his hands to the spot so he could feel it as we kissed.
"I'm going to miss this," he said when we finally broke apart. "Being with you every night, sharing the life that's growing inside you."
I nodded, stroking his hands that still rested on my belly. "At least I get to keep part of you with me."
"Don't worry, babe, I'm taking you to the stars with me, too," assured Al. He took my right hand and pressed it against his chest. I felt his heart beating, steadily thumping, its rate increasing as he kissed me. "You'll be right here."
Author's Note: Please note that while the Apollo missions actually ended well before this, I couldn't bear for Al not to have the astronaut experience he recounted in "Disco Inferno," so I've invented an extra Apollo mission.