Memories of the Dance We Shared

by Auburn Red

An average day with his father and daughter becomes not so average for Max Goof when he researches his past and discovers some things about his father and his late mother. Contains excerpts from the journal of Penny Pooch Goof AKA Mrs. Geef/Mrs. Goofy

6. Penny's Journal: Really Not That Differe

Memories of the Dance We Shared

A Goofy Movie Fanfic

By Auburn Red

Chapter Six: Penny's Journal: Really Not That Different

Max walked inside the clinic waiting room and waited for the people with whom he wanted to speak. He thumbed through a Time magazine barely paying attention to the article on President Trump's latest outburst when suddenly he felt someone grab him from behind. He could see nothing but darkness as his body was instantly hoisted to his feet. He would have been more terrified if he hadn't heard a familiar low husky voice say, "Guess who, Maxie."

Max smiled, "Tank, put me down." Tank removed his hands from Max's head and complied to Max's request sending him landing on his bottom. Max glared but upon seeing his large friend's wide grin and the smaller woman next to him laugh, Max offered a laugh too.

"Hi Mona, Hi Tank," Max said greeting his friends as Tank helped him rise.

"Hi Max," Mona greeted her former boyfriend with a warm hug. Tank also hugged his friend lifting him to his feet. "You wanted to see us?" Max caught his breath feeling momentarily like his spine was about to crack.

"Yeah," Max said. "I need to ask both of you something. Can we talk?"

Mona and Tank exchanged glances and shrugged. "Sure. Can you meet us at the cafeteria in an hour?" Mona asked.

"Sure," Max nodded.

Max waited in the cafeteria for the married couple to arrive. Mona and Tank arrived as promised. Max stifled an amused grin. The two were a study in contrasts. Mona barely came up to Tank's elbow. She was outgoing and friendly while Tank was quiet and shy despite his large size. But the love between the two was apparent. Max's romantic feelings for Mona had long evaporated and vice versa, so Max felt like Mona and Tank were like a brother and sister to him. He also knew that they were good at their occupations and would be the perfect people to help him with Roxanne.

Max greeted the couple and exchanged pleasantries before Tank began. "Saw you on TV, good job."

Mona nodded. "You're doing really well as a reporter."

"Thanks," Max said with a sigh. "I wish I could feel better about it, but it's the last thing that's on my mind." He and P.J. presented their audition video to the station and he arrived for the interview polished and professional. He was glad to be promoted to on-air news reporter and was able to cover a few big stories like a bank robbery, a city council meeting, and a demonstration against Trump's immigration policies. He should be proud of himself, but really he wasn't. "The main reason that I accepted the promotion is so I can have enough money for Roxanne's at-home care."

Mona and Tank exchanged knowing glances and nodded. "Yeah, we heard about that," Tank said.

"We're very sorry," Mona said sympathetically. "This must be hard for you."

Max shrugged. He didn't want to admit that it was. Because Roxanne was also an on-air reporter doing mostly lifestyle and human interest feature stories, the station reported about her accident and wished her well. In fact she received a get-well bouquet and signed card from all her colleagues at the station. "How is she doing?"

"I wish I could say she was better, but," Max said his voice catching. "She's fully conscious and is eating solid food regularly. Her facial scars have healed. There will still be a couple on her nose and forehead, but…well she'll always be beautiful to me.

But her lower half is still paralyzed and she's in a wheelchair. Her hands shake sometimes. The worst part is her mind isn't…well it's not…."

"She's having trouble mentally possibly emotionally as well," Mona guessed.

Max nodded. "She gets these mood swings and gets frustrated easily or starts crying.

She forgets things like our daughter's name or in the middle of a conversation; she'll just trail off and stop talking. The doctors say that's normal, but she's going to need help now and later."

"That's where we come in," Tank guessed.

Max nodded. "Roxanne will be coming home soon and she's going to need a nurse." He turned to Mona. Besides being a friend of theirs, the station had interviewed the couple for health related news so Max knew of their professional reputations which were well praised indeed.

"Mona, you're the best hospice nurse I know. I trust you completely and know that you would take care of my wife while I'm at work." He then turned to Tank. "Tank, you're a great physical therapist and you'll be great helping Roxanne to use her legs again when the time is right. Our health insurance should cover it. Roxanne will be on disability for a while and I can certainly pay for it. It would be nice if a friend was there to help her through this, so would you both help Roxanne, please?"

Mona smiled. "Of course Max, I'll take care of her."

"And I'll help put her on her feet," Tank promised.

Max smiled. "Thanks guys, I really appreciate it and I know Roxanne will too."

Max wheeled Roxanne into the house while Goofy and Mona carried Roxanne's clothes, get-well gifts, groceries and some items for her care. Max leaned down and adjusted the blanket on Roxanne's lap. "Are you okay, Rox?" he asked.

"I'm okay, Max," Roxanne said. Max noticed that his wife's voice was slower and quieter than it used to be as though she were trying to remember her words. Max squeezed Roxanne's hand tightly and he kissed her lips.

"Okay Roxanne honey," Mona said. "I'm going to take your temperature and check your blood pressure." Roxanne opened her mouth as Mona placed a thermometer inside.

"I'll go fix up some soup for ya, Roxanne," Goofy offered.

"Okay," Roxanne said the thermometer still in her mouth.

"You want some too Mona?" Goofy asked. Mona nodded as the thermometer beeped. Mona took it out and read it.

"98.6 normal," she said. "Now your blood pressure." She then wrapped the cover around the other woman's forearm.

"Roxanne, I'll have to go to work for a few hours then I'll go pick up Trixie at her day care," Max said. "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm fine, Max," Roxanne said.

"Are you comfortable?" Max asked. "Do I need to adjust your chair or give you extra pillows or blankets?"

"I'm comfortable," Roxanne insisted.

"And I'll have my cell," Max said. "You may not remember the number, but here it is." He gave her the paper. "If you need anything, just call or text me. You too Mona if you need anything. Dad's here too, so Dad will contact me as well. Got it?"

"I got it, Max," Roxanne said almost stubbornly.

"Okay, okay," Max said. "I'm going." He checked his watch and picked up his keys. He kissed his wife and said good-bye to his father and Mona.

"Max," Roxanne said frantically. Max turned to his wife. "Where are you going?" She asked worriedly.

Max could tell with his wife's pale expression and confused eyes that she had forgotten. He leaned down. "I'm going to work and I'm going to get Trixie," He said. "I'll be back in a few hours, okay?"

"You'll be back," Roxanne repeated.

"I'll be back," Max promised.

Goofy followed his son out the door. Max lingered by the door with a longing expression. "I'm not sure that I'm doing the right thing by leaving her alone," he said.

"You can't be with her every minute, Max," Goofy said. "You have a job to. You gotta keep working."

"Yeah I know," Max said. He sighed trying to keep his anxiety inside. "I'll be by your place too later with Trixie." He said. "Your electric bill is due and I'll get your supper ready."

"You don't have to, Max," Goofy said.

Max nodded at the house. "Dad, the soup is probably boiling over."

Goofy's eyes widened and he ran inside the house. Max shook his head. "Dad, I have to," Max said aloud.

Max's days were constantly busy and filled with tension. He woke up at 6:30 in the morning. He had a quick shower and shave and woke up Trixie and Roxanne. He helped his wife to get dressed, then assisted Trixie. He carried his wife and then wheeled her into the kitchen where he prepared breakfast for the three of them. He often quizzed Roxanne on what he was doing it so she wouldn't forget basic terms. ("Okay, Roxanne, what am I pouring?" It's umm, cereal and uh, mint no, milk!") They waited for Mona to arrive in the morning while Max dropped Trixie off at day care and headed for work.

For now, Max and P.J. mostly worked in the morning and afternoon news so they waited at the station until they got the call. The duo raced to the news breaks to cover the story. In the news van and sometimes after he was on the air, Max called Mona to check on his wife's status. Many times Mona was patient with the anxious husband, but she also had to remind him that she was a licensed certified professional and that she knew what she was doing. Despite the at-home stress, Max prepared as much as he could by studying the research and news reports, and interviewing the subjects, speaking confidently and clearly on the television. He hoped that at-home viewers would be under the impression that Max was cool, collected, and had no problems at home.

Max picked Trixie up from her daycare. The two would arrive at Goofy's house. Max collected any bills that needed paying, cleaned up after any extreme messes that Goofy made, and helped prepare his supper while Goofy played games or watched TV with Trixie. Max and Trixie returned home in the early evening. Max then released Mona and paid her for her services.

Max prepared dinner, cleaned the house, did the laundry, saw to Roxanne's medical needs, paid bills, played with Trixie, and helped her learn her letters and numbers. Max helped his daughter get dressed, brushed her teeth and hair, and helped her get ready for bed. He then read to Trixie with Roxanne listening close by. Max realized that as Trixie learned to read and improve her vocabulary so did Roxanne. Roxanne read out loud trying to commit the words to her memory and recall them later. Reading together was also a source of bonding as Trixie was no longer afraid of her mother. Trixie even sat on her lap on the wheelchair while Max read to them.

After Trixie finally was put to bed, Max helped his wife bathe and dress for bed and the two would talk. Mostly Max would listen to Roxanne as she talked about some of the things that she did during the day, little achievements that she made, or little activities that Mona let her do to improve her hand-eye coordination. Especially Roxanne would talk about her anxieties and worries. "I never know what's wrong with me, Max," she said. "I'm also scared. What if I can never walk again?"

Max would assure his wife that everything would be okay, that soon she'll walk again, and everything will be back to normal. He never told Roxanne if anything bothered him like how occasionally he suffered from a tension migraine headache or that sometimes his stomach hurt and he suspected that it was an ulcer. He never told her that sometimes at night he was so exhausted that he couldn't sleep. That sometimes before REM sleep finally caught up with him, he jerked back awake convinced that he forgot something either at their house or at Goofy's and that it would take hours before he was able to fall back to sleep. Max considered buying stimulants, so he could remain active and see to everyone's needs. He never told Roxanne any of that. Instead, he just ignored his own needs in favor of his wife's.

One thing that Roxanne enjoyed doing with her husband was listening to his mother's journal. Max didn't know if Roxanne heard him read the journal while she was in her coma, but when Max told her, she was intrigued. He hadn't yet told her that he felt responsible for his mother's death or Roxanne's accident. Instead, he just told her that he found his mother's journal. He reread the previous entries and as he suspected, Roxanne was moved by the story of his parent's engagement and their early marriage.

"That is so romantic," Roxanne said. "Your mother sounded like a wonderful woman."

"Yeah, she was," Max said. "I'm finally beginning to know her."

Roxanne smiled. "You know, you're a great deal like her."

Max was confused. "Me? I'm nothing like my Mom. She was rich, pampered. Her parents were total snobs. I well, well I wasn't rich. I wasn't brought up by parents who ignored me. I'm definitely not married to a goof." Roxanne giggled.

"True," Roxanne said. "But you're both very passionate, have a way with words, and can be pretty stubborn when you know what you want, especially when you're in love." She chucked her husband on the chin. "You both also love a certain goof."

"Well she had a choice," Max quipped. "He's my dad. I have to love him." The two laughed. "Would you like to hear some more?" Max asked. Roxanne nodded as Max tucked his wife under the covers feeling a bit silly like he was reading to Trixie. But he knew that this made Roxanne happy. Max had to admit that he liked reading his mother's journal too. It made him forget his problems for a little while at least and allowed him to understand where he came from.

Max cleared his throat as he opened the pages, "Okay, here we are: Goofy and I have been married for almost two years. I wish I could feel as certain of our marriage as I did on our wedding day, but I can't. In fact I'm angrier these days than feel like a happy woman in love…"

"…..Instead I headed to the clinic because I'm afraid. As the door opened, a duck woman passed me by. She looks a bit like Della Duck, Donald's sister. But I am not sure whether she is plus she looks upset so I chose not to say anything. Besides it's not like I don't have enough problems of my own, so I just nod and greet her with a non-committed "Excuse me."

I am observing some of the people in the waiting room. A pair of sparrows look excited as they are holding hands. A young doe fidgets clearly worried and nervous. I have a feeling that she is in a situation that she shouldn't be in. As compared to her, I'm probably lucky. Barely.

I keep thinking of Goofy. I wish I were in love with him as I was on the day we met, when we dated in secret, and we got married. But there is so much tension in our apartment that not only do I feel it, but Goofy does as well.

I know that a lot of our issues are my fault. I am having so many problems at work and they have spilled over into my personal life. I have been working at the Toon Town Talker for almost two years and I still just write the events calendar. I just compose events from press releases, contact sources for event information clarification, and compile it together on a calendar. Occasionally I do a filler feature article if there needs to be extra space. I should be glad that I have a job but I don't feel fulfilled in writing something that they sometimes give unpaid interns to do.

What angers me the most is that Nick Noseworthy started at the same time I did and he has been promoted twice since I started first as Section Head News Writer and recently got promoted to News Editor. When I confronted our editor, Ed Owlsner about it, he peered at me through his half-moon glasses and simply said that Nick was "the best man for the job."

At my last performance review after I found out about Nick's promotion ahead of me, I mentioned that I wouldn't mind a little bit more responsibility. Mr. Owlsner looked at me and said, "Mrs. Goof when D.K. Owlson-" He always refers to the publisher D.K. Owlson in his tirades "-and I began in this business, we covered a war, Pearl Harbor, Iwo Jima, Dresden, Normandy, Hiroshima! We would have killed for a cushiony job like you have! D.K. Owlson now there was a writer! You just aren't the man for this job, Mrs. Goof! You're too soft. Girls like you are! You don't write about the real world, because you don't live in it! All you know is your marrying, cooking, and tending babies! I suggest you go do what you do best and gain more experience if you want to keep this job! That or write for the woman's page!"

What could I say? I apologized and meekly left the interview wishing I could be more like Mr. Owlsner, or the male news writers, or D.K. Owlson, whoever he is. Maybe wishing I could be, I don't know a man.

I thought about what Mr. Owlsner said about writing for the so-called woman's page, the lifestyles section. That wouldn't be so bad per se. I don't mind reading the sections, but I was never interested in writing them. I want to write the hard news that people care about that change lives.

Besides I don't really fit in with the other writers for the Features/Lifestyles, especially the female writers. They are so fashionable, beautiful, and stuck up. When they walk by, I feel like Cinderella next to the Wicked Stepsisters. They walk by me and often giggle and laugh saying that they can't tell the difference between me and the male reporters.

They make me feel inadequate and hideous.

It's ironic, the male reporters look down on me because I'm a woman and the female ones look down on me because I'm not woman enough. I guess I am just the Pooch-Goof who walks by herself and all places are alike to her.

My stomach growls and as usual I ignore it. I haven't been eating very much lately, for over a week now. I go for a run or a jog in the morning to exercise. Then I

examine my body up and down in the mirror keeping my eyes out for any fat or imperfections. I am getting round in the stomach and wish I could do something about it.

I should be above being so concerned about my appearance, but my insecurities have increased since the other employees have dismissed me. Every time one of them mocks me or Mr. Owlsner disregards me, I hear my parents' voices once again calling me "ugly" and "stupid." Apparently, they aren't the only one that think so. It's a common consensus.

As if work wasn't bad enough, everything at home is tense. It's funny, the things that I thought about Goofy that were so cute and charming when we were dating are sources of annoyance and embarrassment now that we are married. I come home to a messy apartment and usually some kind of havoc that has been caused. Goofy can be loud and hyperactive which while makes me laugh sometimes aggravates me when I come home and want peace and quiet. Then there are the more serious issues such as the piles of bills or Goofy constantly getting fired.

I knew that these were all problems when I married him and I knew what he was like, but it's one thing to tolerate it when you are dating. It's another when you are living together and trying to make things work between you. At least he's working right now at the Kicksack Hackensack Corporation mailroom.

Of course that led to a new problem. His office is near mine, so he likes to come by work.

Sometimes he comes in front of my work calling my name and bringing flowers. That wouldn't be so bad, but he often does more elaborate things.

Yesterday, he stood in front of the hot dog stand by the Talker and as soon as he saw me, he started singing "You Are So Beautiful" by Joe Cocker at the top of his lungs. A couple of my colleagues walked behind me and said, "Who is that? Is he drunk?"

"I don't know if I were his wife or girlfriend, I would die of embarrassment," another one said as they laughed.

I winced mortified and approached Goofy. "What are you doing here?" I asked through clenched teeth, thoroughly embarrassed.-"

"-What?" Max asked interrupting his reading to look at Roxanne's smug expression.

"Where do you get it?" Roxanne smirked innocently.

"Okay," Max grumbled realizing how his mother's embarrassment was so similar to her son's. Max rolled his eyes at his wife's expression, "May I continue please?" Roxanne waved for her husband to continue reading-

"-You seemed so down, that I thought you could use cheerin' up," Goofy said sincerely.

He handed me a small bouquet of daisies. I accepted it, but sighed. When I get angry like this at Goofy, I feel guilty and ashamed. He does so much for me. He just doesn't seem to know when to quit.

"Thank you," I said. My body swayed for a moment and I felt weak at the knees. I looked down at my stomach. I really was getting fat. No wonder they think I'm ugly.

Goofy looked concerned as he held me by the shoulders. "Are you alright, Penny?"

"I'm fine," I say.

Goofy nodded at the hot dog stand. "You wanna hot dog?" He asked.

It had been so long since I had a full meal, so even looking at the hot dogs made me nauseous. I shook my head.

"Oh then do you want to go somewhere else for lunch?" Goofy asked. "Get some coffee or something?"

"No," I said. "I have too much to do. I have to work through lunch."

Goofy looked a little disappointed. "Well what time are you coming home then? We can go out for dinner."

I was getting irritated. Goofy was not only pestering me about eating, but he failed to account for our finances. "We can't afford something like that right now."

"We don't have to go anywhere fancy," Goofy suggested. "Just somewhere simple."

"We can't even afford that," I snapped. "We have a lot more important things to worry about like the electric bill that is past due, and the floor which somehow got a hole through it."

"What about the car that's in the shop," Goofy added. I winced. Okay, that one was my fault. I'm still trying to learn how to drive and I somewhat misjudged the distance between the shoulder and the ditch. The front bumper got the bad end of it. Right now, I am trying to work for a few weeks so I could afford enough to get it repaired. So Goofy and I either walk everywhere or take public transportation.

Money seems to be a constant source of conversation between us usually ending in another fight. Everything seems to cost so much these days. I never thought I would live to see the day when I had to struggle to pay for things that I used to take for granted like brand name foods. I know living below means is something to get used to when I marry into a lower social structure, but it seems lately that money is a constant presence in our lives. It hovers over mine and Goofy's heads all the time and makes us more irritated with each other.

I sighed. "Why are you so interested in us going out anyway? You went out last Friday night with your friends?" I didn't want to bring this up.

Goofy looked at me in surprise. I guess he thought that I didn't believe that he was with the gang. "I really was with Mickey and Donald, you can ask anybody."

"I know you were with Mickey and Donald," I said. "That isn't what bothered me!"

I couldn't say what bothered me about Goofy hanging out with them. He would think it was stupid.

"Well we weren't looking for women or nothin'," Goofy insisted. "In fact Minnie and Daisy were with us, and Pluto."

"I know," I said. "That isn't what bothered me either. I know you wouldn't have an affair."

"Well not with anybody especially with Minnie or Daisy," Goofy insisted. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about that either."

"That isn't what's bothering me," I said. "It's-never mind." How could Goofy ever understand what it feels like to be excluded? Like you didn't have any close friends? How could he know how it feels to be an afterthought where a tight group of friends make plans and forget to invite you or when they do, it's only because your husband invited you on your behalf? I feel excluded at work and now I feel excluded by Goofy's friends too. It seems that the only who accepts me is Goofy.

"I have to get back to work," I said.

Goofy hugged me tightly. "Penny, come on what's troublin' ya? I can't help ya if you don't let me."

"It's nothing," I said. The hot dogs really were making me nauseous. About as nauseous as I was in the morning. I moved away from the hot dog stand. I felt something in my stomach. The nausea continued and I was confused. What did I have in my stomach to want to throw up? Was it PMS? That could explain why I'm so irritated, I thought, I mean apart from everything else that had been going on.

I considered. That couldn't be it. I was pretty regular with my cycle until fairly recently. In fact I hadn't had it in over a month- Then suddenly I felt cold and I moved away from my husband.

"I um have to go back to work," I told Goofy. "I'll see you later."

"Are you sure?" Goofy asked.

"Yes," I said. I moved away and turned to him. "I'll see you later tonight." I returned to the Talker before he could say anything more.

Now here I am waiting patiently for a doctor to tell me whether I am pregnant or not. I took an early pregnancy test and it was positive. I want to be sure. I have to be sure.

I look up as the door opened. The doctor is in private conference with a woman. He holds her by the shoulders and leads her out of the room. I start in surprise to see that she is Minnie!

I hope that Minnie doesn't see me. But my hope is in vain. She looks right at me and she looks as stunned to see me as I to see her. I am about to mouth, "Minnie what are you doing here?" When I see that her eyes are red rimmed, I stop. She has been crying. Is she pregnant and she doesn't want to be? Or does she want to be pregnant and isn't? Either way, she doesn't look happy.

Minnie looks absently at me and at the door as though she is trying to decide whether she wants to talk to me or leave. She then turns to the door and shakes her head. Her whole body and face seem to say, 'I was never here. You never saw me.' I nod and lower my head as she leaves the clinic.

A nurse looks through her schedule and calls, "Mrs. Goof." I stand up and approach the door. Am I ready for the news, whatever it is?

Well, I am on the bus heading for home. Dr. Maltin's prognosis rings through my brain. Congratulations, Mrs. Goof. You are pregnant.

I tried to force a smile, but I really couldn't. When the doctor showed me the ultrasound, I couldn't feel anything. I wasn't sure how to feel about this. The doctor noticed my hesitancy right away. "We can make arrangements to have this pregnancy terminated if this is what you wish, Mrs. Goof." He said. I can barely see his mouth through the gray bushy beard.

I lowered my head. I mumbled something to the effect that I would think about it as I left.

About a thousand questions and a million emotions spill through me at once. I am uncertain, anxious, worried, and scared. Goofy and I are going to have a baby.

Are we ready? I know we certainly aren't financially, but what about emotionally or physically? Are we even the parental types?

I have no doubt that Goofy would be a great father. Sometimes when we go out walking, he often talks to the children or makes silly faces so they laugh. A few times in bed, he asks, "Wouldn't it be great to have a baby?" making subtle hints about he would like children one day. Every time he says that, I laugh and try to change the subject rather than argue.

I mentally smile picturing Goofy bouncing a baby on his knee, feeding it with a bottle, tickling it to make it laugh, sitting up with it and lulling it to sleep. He would never lose his patience with the baby. He would love the very life out of that little one. Yes, he would be a wonderful father.

I'm not sure what I would be as a mother. The only maternal influence I ever had in my life, Millicent Libertee-Pooch, was hardly considered motherly. Would I be critical, cold and abusive to my child? I always find faults in myself and lately in Goofy. Though I'm not as hard as Goofy as I am at myself. How hard would I be at my child?

Tears sting my eyes making it difficult to write. I wish I could be happy about this. I wish I could feel a warm motherly sensation instead of fear and constant anxiety. Maybe if I can't feel happier about this, then maybe I shouldn't be a mother at all.

The bus stops. I check my watch. Goofy won't be home for another hour. I guess I have some time to think about it….."

"…..Okay maybe I'm a bit like my Mom," Max said. He remembered when Roxanne first told him that she was pregnant; he had the same fear, anxiety, and uncertainty that she had. He didn't have his mother's abusive background, but he was concerned about whether they were able to financially care for a child since they were both starting out at the tv studio.

Max was also concerned about himself as a father. Unlike his mother, who didn't have a positive maternal influence to take after, Max had too positive a paternal influence. He kept comparing himself to his father. Would he be always involved, constantly bothering his child, embarrassing them and never giving them a moment to themselves?

Or would he be so determined to go the opposite extreme that he would be hard, strict, serious always trying to be too rigid to his child?

Those anxieties continued to fill him the nine months that Roxanne carried Trixie.

No matter how she and Goofy reassured him that the only thing that Max needed to be was himself to their daughter, Max wasn't convinced. He always added, "But I don't know what myself is as a father!"

Of course those anxieties changed when Trixie was born and Max first held that little baby in his arms. He couldn't imagine loving someone as much as he loved that girl right there. Looking at his newborn daughter with tears in his eyes Max made a vow, "I will always love you and I will always be the father that you deserve."

He wondered if his mother ever overcame her fears about her pregnancy. From Dad's description, Max figured that she probably did. Could that have been part of the reason why she spent so much time at work? Did she feel nervous or inadequate caring for her son? Did she ever overcome those jitters or did they multiply? What were her feelings when she held her son for the first time?

Max broke from his thoughts to hear Roxanne's scream. Alarmed, Max dropped his mother's journal and put his arms around his wife. Roxanne continued to jerk her arms up and down. "Max," She yelled. "What's wrong with me? I can't move my legs! I can't move my legs!"

"It's okay, it's okay, Roxie," Max said holding onto his wife as she sobbed in his arms. He kept telling her that it was alright.

When Roxanne's breathing slowed down and her emotions changed from anxiety to sadness, Max reassured his amnesiac wife that she had been in a car accident and that she would walk again very soon.

"You've said that before," Roxanne said sadly sounding almost like Trixie when she had a nightmare.

"Because it's true, Roxie," Max promised her. "Everything is going to be alright." He lowered her onto the bed and continued to hold his wife in his arms.

"Is Mommy ang'y?" asked a frightened voice. Max looked up to see his half-awake daughter standing by the bedroom door.

"What are you doing up?" Max asked her.

"I couldn't sleep," Trixie said rubbing her eyes. "I had a bad dream. Is Mommy mad?"

"No, she's not mad," Max said. He turned to Roxanne. "Are you Mommy?"

"No, I'm not," Roxanne said. "I'm fine, Kimmy."

"Trixie," Max corrected her.

"Isn't that what I said?" Roxanne asked confused her brow furrowed in worry.

"Yeah that's what you said," Max assured his wife to hedge off another anxiety attack. Max then looked up at his daughter and stood next to her. "Come on, you'd better get back in bed."

Trixie lowered her mouth in a pout. "Can I sleep with you and Mommy tonight?"

Max looked from his wife to his daughter. Roxanne nodded so Max sighed. "Sure, but don't wiggle okay?" He asked ruffling her hair.

"Okay," Trixie said. She climbed onto the bed and crawled between her parents. "Be careful with Mommy," Max said. He adjusted his daughter so she didn't cause too much friction or tension on Roxanne's legs.

With his wife's leg supports and his daughter's body, Max found it very difficult to become comfortable. Even when he did find a secure position, he was filled with worries about Roxanne and everything else. He lay in bed looking out the window hoping that his eyes would shut and watched the sky shift from blackness into the lighter blue signifying morning. He really needed to find a way to get some sleep.

"….Well, I didn't get the solitude, I hoped for, Goofy was home and we just had the Mother of All Battles.

I saw my husband cooking something over the stove. I looked closer to see that it was meatballs. He was humming to himself, so happy-go-lucky. I saw him standing over the kitchen, smiling that sweet smile like everything was alright with the world and nothing bad could happen. The only thing I could think about is why he was home so early.

"Hi Honey," Goofy said. He greeted me with a kiss. "Want a meatball? It's my Pop's special recipe! I figure we can have it every Wednesday like my Pop and I used to!" He held the pan to my face and I felt sick, partly from not eating and also from the pregnancy. I swayed back and forth before I ran to the bathroom.

I didn't vomit, just released some slight bile before I walked back to the kitchen. "You're home," I sighed. "Let me guess, you got fired again." He looked sheepish while I sank down near the kitchen table. "What happened this time?"

"I had some problems with the copier," Goofy said. "I made too many copies."

"That's not too bad," I said.

"About 10, 000," Goofy said.

"What?" I asked. "Then what happened?"

"Well the copies went flying out right into the boss' office," Goofy said. "Then broke the window….then, spilled out into the ground from three stories."

"George," I said through clenched teeth. "I cannot keep doing this."

"What?" Goofy asked.

I stood and waved my hands around the apartment. "This! The constant unemployment, the money problems!"

"Well I'm trying my best," Goofy said. He approached me and tried to kiss me. "Come on, Penny. I'm sorry."

I pulled away from my husband. "And there's that too! You're always smothering, embarrassing me at work! You keep asking what I'm doing, wanting to get in my business! I can never get a moment's peace without you in my face!"

"I'm sorry, Penny," Goofy said. "But you're always so down and I want to help you. What's going on with you?"

"You wouldn't understand," I said.

"Don't tell me I wouldn't understand," Goofy insisted. "I ain't stupid!"

"I never said you were," I said feeling guilty. "I'm just, oh, forget it. I'm having trouble at work and I'm…." I was about to mention that I was pregnant, but wasn't sure if

I wanted to add with our stress. "I feel stuck at my job writing the calendar, and my boss

is making me feel like I'm not as important as the male writers."

Goofy nodded sympathetically. "Well no wonder you're upset! You're a good writer. You could always find work somewhere else."

The dizziness and the irritation overwhelmed me and I began to laugh. I think Goofy was afraid of me. Truth be told, I was afraid of myself. "Quit my job?" I asked. "You think I should quit my job?" I laughed again. "You're absolutely right, what a brilliant idea! Why don't I quit my job? Then we can both be unemployed and lose our apartment, maybe we can starve!"

"I just thought," Goofy said.

"No you didn't," I reminded him. "That's the problem. You act, but you don't think about the consequences! You cause problems at work and you get fired and I end up having to be the one to support us! I am so tired of being the only adult in the house! The trouble is you get so distracted and then you cause trouble! Oh, you mean well always, but you get bored so easily! Why don't you find a job you're good at and keep it! That way I don't have to be upset and I don't have to feel that I live with a giant kid!"

Goofy blinked like he had been slapped. I felt terrible, but I still felt like I was right in my anger so I didn't want to take it back.

"I can't help it, Penny. That's the way I am. That's the way I'm always gonna be and you know that about me. You always say that's what you love about me that I make you feel like everything's gonna be okay and that's why you married me."

"Maybe I made a mistake," I mumbled. I glanced at the meatballs. "Look George, I'm really tired and I have a headache, so I'm going to bed."

"You sure you don't wanna eat anything?" Goofy asked concerned. "You haven't eaten much in a few days now."

"Yes, I'm sure," I said. Before he could say anymore, I walked into our room and lay down. I furiously wrote everything down before I fell asleep.

I wake up and reach for my diary. The clock says I've been asleep for five hours. I reach

For my journal to write all of this down including my recent argument with Goofy fresh in my mind. I hear a gentle knock on the door and Goofy's head peers inside. "How ya' feelin'?" he asks..

"I'm fine," I say.

Goofy nods. "You were out so I don't know if you heard but Mickey called." I nodded. I thought I heard the phone ring, but I was dreaming when I heard an annoying ring and thought it was that. I guess the phone bled into my dream. "He wanted to invite you, me, Donald, and Daisy out to dinner. He has something to tell us."

I pale. "He asked to see me or did you ask if I could come?"

"Why are you so hung up on that?" Goofy asks.

"It doesn't matter," I answer.

"Anyway, Minnie said pacifically that she wanted you to come," Goofy says. "She said that she would appreciate it if you did." I remember Minnie at the hospital and how sad she looked . Perhaps she wants to confirm what I saw and wonder what I was doing there. Was I ready to tell anyone that I was pregnant? I haven't even told my husband! "When?"

"Tomorrow night about 7 at Tony's," Goofy answers. "I'll understand if you don't wanna come."

"No," I interrupt. How often do I get included in the group? Even though the thought of eating Italian food makes me gag. I remind myself that I would have to start eating again since I was eating for two, but I still am not sure how I feel about motherhood. Maybe I shouldn't bring this child into the world, if I don't feel sure about being a mother. I put my hand on my stomach and my womb. "I want to come," I say. "We should probably stay on a budget so no overeating and no extra appetizers."

Ahh," Goofy says playfully snapping his fingers like a little kid.

I can't resist a slight smile. "But we can come."

"Well my stupid sister is knocked up!" Donald grumbled as he and Daisy sat down across from us. Mickey and Minnie hadn't yet arrived which I thought was strange since it was Mickey who called us together. Daisy said that Mickey was acting secretive but that he had to pick something up that was delayed, but that we can go ahead and order. Goofy gobbled down his salad. I gently picked at mine and practiced a trick that I learned. I chewed a little in my mouth then delicately put my napkin to my mouth and emptied out most of the food on the napkin so I wouldn't swallow. So far no one noticed.

Goofy and I turned to Donald digesting the news. Goofy was surprised to hear that, but I wasn't. So it was Della Duck, I saw at the clinic earlier.

"That's wonderful," Daisy said and smiled.

"Not when it's that loser that she just broke up with," Donald objected. "She no sooner told him than he celebrated his impending fatherhood by running off!"

"How's Della?" I asked grateful at least that I could never picture Goofy doing that to me.

"Oh she's fine," Donald said even more sarcastically. "She has a nice place! She has my place in fact she's currently sleeping on my couch crying her eyes out as we speak. I told her that he was a loser! But you think Ms. Irresponsible would listen to me no! It seems most of my life I have had to pick up after her, it just makes me so-" Donald went into one of his characteristic squawks. He calmed down for a minute and said. "And get this, she asked me to be the godfather!"

Smiles broke on our faces. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who had trouble picturing Donald as an uncle/godfather but at least he was somewhat financially prepared for it working as an assistant to his Uncle Scrooge. Daisy shook her head and put her hand on her boyfriend's. "Oh Donald, stop worrying. I'm sure Della and her baby will be fine. You've taken care of her as much as you possibly could and who knows maybe the baby will be a stabilizing influence on her. If not, I'm sure you'll do a good job with them and be like a father to them."

"And maybe Fiddler, Fifer, and Practical will start flying," Donald grumbled.

Daisy reassured her boyfriend as Goofy motioned me to look outside. It looked as though the Three Little Pigs had gotten tossed out of a nearby restaurant. "Next time pay your tab," the owner yelled. The pigs returned with "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Bar Tab," as they flew. Goofy and I shrugged. Same old Same old in Toon Town.

" 'Sides Donald," Goofy said. "Babies are great! We aim to have a whole parcel of 'em, don't we Pen?"

"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically. Is that what Goofy wants from me to be a baby machine? When I'm not sure that I even want this one?

"What about babies?" Minnie's voice asked. She arrived dressed as always so beautifully in her clothes. I think she will be a great designer or boutique owner someday. Right now she was an assistant at Clopin's Designs. I noticed that her voice was pleasant but sounded a little sad. I remembered her look at the clinic. Whatever it was still bothered her.

The others quickly put Minnie up to speed on Donald's latest. "Congratulations, Donald," Minnie said putting on a smile.

Donald mumbled. "Yeah for who?"

"Where's Mickey?" I asked. "Do you have any idea what this is about?"

Minnie shook her head. "I don't know, he's been quiet for days. He wouldn't tell me anything and usually he tells me just about everything. But he did say he needed to get something finalized and to pick up something so he'd be a bit late." She looked through the window. "In fact he's coming now."

Mickey came through the restaurant whistling "Zip A Dee Do Da" and waved at Tony and Joe behind the bar. Pluto pranced happily behind him. He then greeted us warmly. "Hi everybody how you all been?"

Once we exchanged pleasantries and made our orders, Donald drummed his fingers impatiently just as much curious about Mickey's great news as he was to be distracted from his current problems no doubt. "Well what do you have to tell us?"

Mickey smiled. "Well I have two great news. The first is this!" He slapped a contract down and grinned. We recognized the logo of a film company. "I showed our cartoons at the meeting to some executives, even some of the old ones and they want to distribute the lot!" Our mouths fell open in delight and happiness.

"They want to buy them?" Minnie asked confused.

"No," Mickey said. "That's the best part. They only want to distribute them! We will have total creative control. We should produce them together with the Princesses, the Heroes, and the other Animals and put them together under a collective name!"

"Well you're the main one who puts them together," Minnie suggested. "How about Mouse Productions? Or Mickey productions? Or Mouseworks?"

"Hey the rest of us work as hard as he does," Donald exclaimed. "How about Duck Tales?" Daisy nodded. "Or even Quack Pack" she agreed.

"I kinda' like Goof Troop myself," Goofy offered. "I mean not just for me. They're goofy and silly!"

Pluto barked a suggestion which Mickey translated "No we can't call it Paws Incorporated, that name's already been taken."

"Why don't we sit on the name and think about it for a while?" Mickey suggested. "Right now I need all of your signatures on this contract to make it official?"

"Why ours?" Daisy asked.

"I want you all to be part owners of the company," Mickey encouraged. "We can still continue with our career paths, but I want all of you to at least have a piece of the excitement! We can work on them together!" The five of us exchanged excited goofy grins. Mickey held open the contract and called out like a carnival barker. "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen fame and fortune is on its way!" Minnie signed her name and gave her boyfriend a kiss on the lips, Daisy followed with a kiss on the cheek. Donald signed his name with a flourish. "You'll be okay if I just shake your hand!" Mickey nodded and accepted a hand clasp from his friend. Pluto stepped up and put an inked paw for his name then practically licked Mickey's face off to which Mickey laughed and patted him on the head, Goofy then signed and gave his friend a big bear hug. When it was my turn, I noticed something missing. "There are only six spaces for signatures." I said mechanically. I slid the contract over to Mickey. I couldn't believe it. Pluto was a dog and he got a signature but I was left out!

"I'm sorry, Penny," Mickey said. "But you said so yourself that you weren't interested in doing our movies. You're never there when we do them, and it never occurred to me that-" He forced a smile. "Hey I could put a line for your name or have them draw up a new contract."

My eyes winced but I forced myself not to cry. Once again I was excluded from the group. "That's okay. You're right, you know me a total wreck in front of the camera," I said with a fake smile. "I'll make sure you'll get plenty of free publicity from the Talker."

"Are you sure you're alright, Penny?" Goofy said. "Hey with this we'll have more money and we can finally have a family!"

"Sure," I said.

Mickey held up a finger. "Which actually leads to my second surprise. This one is just for Minnie." He reached into his pocket, "I wanted to wait until your birthday next month but I figured what the heck with this contract we will have more money than we know what to do with. We can finally have enough to live off of and start a family, so what I'm trying to say is-" He got down on one knee and held out a small box. "Miss Minerva Millicent "Minnie" Mouse, you have always been the love of my life. Will you marry me?"

Minnie looked at a beautiful diamond ring that had three circles in the shape of a mouse head. Clever sweet Mickey even had made a small row of sapphires on top of the head to look like a hair bow. There was a silence as I looked around at the others. Donald and Goofy's smiles couldn't be wider. Daisy had tears in her eyes. Pluto panted excited and wagged his tail. Mickey looked happy, but nervous. He practically turned a bright pink. Minnie smiled and then frowned. Something told me that she was torn. "Oh Mickey," she sighed. "No." I'm sure mine wasn't the only gasp in the room.

Mickey stood up. "Why not? Minnie we've been going together practically since we were kids. Everyone we know has us married already, we might as well be. There hasn't been a time when I haven't loved you."

"I know I love you too, Mickey," Minnie said. "That's why….I can't." She ran into the ladies' room barely gulping a sob.

"We'd better go talk to her, " Daisy suggested. I nodded having a feeling about what was going on.

We left the boys alone wondering about the phenomena of women having to go to the ladies' room together.

Daisy and I found Minnie facing the mirror crying her eyes out. Daisy wrapped her arms around her best friend in a hug. I rubbed her back and also hugged her. "Okay," Daisy said. "It's just us girls now spill."

"I can't marry Mickey," Minnie sobbed.

"Why not you don't love him anymore?" Daisy asked. "Why don't you want to marry him?"

"No I want to marry him," Minnie said. "I just can't marry him!"

"Well I can't think of any other reason why except-" Daisy said. Then her eyes widened. "Oh my god, you're married to someone else!"

Minnie stared at Daisy confused. "What? No!"

"Then what other reason is there?" Daisy asked.

"I think I know," I said. I have her a wordless look to say is it alright if I mention it? She nodded. "You're pregnant aren't you? I saw you at the clinic."

"And Mickey's the father!" Daisy said. "No that would be more of a reason to marry him! Someone else is the father!"

Minnie shook her head. Sometimes Daisy gets too melodramatic for her own good. "You watch too many soaps, Daise." Minnie said at least finding some humor. "No, in fact it's just the opposite. Alright, I will tell you but you have to promise it's between the three of us." Daisy and I nodded. Just like old times. "I had been feeling funny lately. At first I thought it was the flu bug going around but I remembered…well Mickey and I we aren't always careful when we…well I mean we're faithful to each other so there's no worries about catching anything, so sometimes we forget to and a couple of months ago we did. My cycles aren't always regular, so that wasn't unusual, but I thought maybe this time there was a reason. So I went to the clinic and I thought I was pregnant, but the doctor said that I wasn't. In fact, he told me that there was no way ever that I can be."

"Well maybe he was wrong," Daisy suggested.

"He did a full examination," Minnie said. "And I went to another doctor to get a second opinion." She shrugged. "I'm barren."

"I'm sorry, Minnie," Daisy said hugging her friend.

"That doesn't mean that you two shouldn't get married," I suggested. "You could always adopt or hire a surrogate, or you know there are childless couples out there. That doesn't mean you won't be happy."

"I know but having children means so much to Mickey and to me," Minnie said. "We have talked endlessly about it. Mickey lost his family at so young an age and I have always wanted to be a mother one day. Now for Mickey to find out there's no way…."She trailed off her voice in tears.

"There is always a way," Daisy said. "You just have to tell him. I'm sure you can work it out."

"Absolutely," I said. "You two are so happy together. I have never seen a couple more in love."

I guess Minnie must have caught some jealousy in my voice because she looked right at me. "Penny, what were you doing at the clinic?"

I was about to lie and tell her I was working on an article about expectant mothers but the secret had been buried in my chest so long that I wanted to let it out. "I had a similar reason to be there but it was the opposite result. I am pregnant."

Daisy squealed with delight. "Unbelievable that is so great! One of us is having a baby I mean really having a baby I mean-" She then looked to Minnie. "I'm sorry Minnie I mean-"

Minnie smiled. Her earlier sadness was gone. "No it is wonderful news! Congratulations Penny! And to Goofy."

"I haven't told him yet," I said. My friends asked me why so I finally spilled about our marital problems, financial difficulties including my stalled job and Goofy getting fired from his job, and my ambivalence about being a mother. "I'm not sure that I'm ready to have it or that I even want to have it."

Minnie smiled thinly as she attempted to dry her eyes. "It's funny, both you and Donald are about to be parents or godparents and you aren't sure that you want to be. Here Mickey and I want to be parents more than anything, and if he marries me, we can't. You know no matter what we try to sell with our movies and cartoons, the image we try to be and what we are soon going to put out to the world, the truth is nobody lives happy ever after because nobody ever truly gets what they want. They only make people feel good for a little while that such things are possible, even if it isn't always so." Daisy and I nodded. I will certainly have to agree. Minnie agreed to talk to Mickey about the doctor's prognosis but wasn't sure about accepting his proposal yet. The three of us left the Ladies' room together.

The three of us stood and listened as the guys talked. Donald was clearly still worried about his sister's pregnancy and Goofy tried to reassure him. Mickey was half-reassuring Donald and half-looking at the bathroom door concerned about Minnie. Pluto had his head on Donald's lap as if trying to assure him in his own way.

"It ain't that big a deal, Donald," Goofy said.

"Yeah looking forward to the whining, the crying, the 3:00 feedings, the death of a social life," Donald moaned.

Mickey looked confused. "Donald you're their uncle, not their father. Della will be the one doing most of that."

Donald glared at Mickey. "You have met my sister haven't you? I will end up doing most if not all of it."

"Is that really so bad? "Goofy asked. "I mean yeah it's a lot of work, but at the end of the day there will be this little person that will love you and always be there."

My eyes misted over and I thought of right then and there telling Goofy the news. Before I could Donald continued. "Yeah?" He said skeptically. "Why don't you have one then?"

"Well I want to have one," Goofy said. "Kids are great. I hope I have a million of them."

"I must admit I wouldn't mind being a father of one or two myself one day," Mickey said.

"And Minnie and Penny want kids too?" Donald grunted. "I'm sure Daisy won't shut up about being an aunt." Minnie and I looked at Daisy who smiled and shrugged as if she couldn't deny it.

Mickey and Goofy exchanged glanced but Mickey smiled. "Sure Minnie does. She talks about being a mother all the time. She'll be the best mother there is!" Minnie gave a slight gasp and would have cried again but Daisy and I patted her on the shoulders.

"And Penny wants kids as much as I do," Goofy said. "I'm sure she does. Anyway, even if she don't I can always get her to change her mind."

I could almost feel myself fall through a crack in the floor. Was Goofy really saying that? Did he really want children so badly that he wanted to force them on me? Underneath all of that sweetness, klutziness, and silliness he was no different than the people I knew.

I nodded at the girls and we sat down next to them. Minnie had her head downward not looking at Mickey. Daisy held Donald's hand in wordless support. I glared at Goofy and just picked at the food on my plate.

I didn't say anything on the way home from the restaurant, I was too mad. When we finally stopped at the apartment I entered the door and angrily placed my purse and hung my coat on a hanger in the closet. Goofy just threw his coat on the floor. This somehow angered me more. "Could you please put your clothes away in the closet or in a dresser and not on the floor?"

Goofy meekly. "I'm sorry, honey," he said.

"You are so impossible," I glared.

"I said I was sorry," Goofy objected.

"It's not about the coat," I half-screamed. "How could you tell Mickey and Donald that we wanted children? And then you tell them that even if I don't you can change my mind," I said!

"I didn't mean nothin' by it," Goofy said. "I thought you wanted them!"

"I never said that," I said. "We never talked about it!"

"Because you won't talk about it! "Goofy snapped. "Every time I bring it up you change the subject!"

"What makes you think I even like children?" I asked.

"Because I see you with them," Goofy said. "At the Iwerks' Home, when we're at the park, or with Mickey's nephews. You talk to them and your face lights up and you have the greatest smile. You have such a pleasant voice when talking to them. I picture you singing them lullabies and you are such a warm loving person that I can't wait for you to share that with a baby."

He leaned over to kiss me and I wanted to receive him. I really did. But I remember my earlier anger and pulled away. "Goofy, no you can't just sweet talk me and kiss me and make it better! You are trying to decide my life for me! You want me to want to have children, because you do! I spent my whole life like that with other people making decisions for me! I thought you were different than them!"

"I am," Goofy said. "I want kids more than anything in the world, but I only want them when you're ready."

"What if I never want them?" I ask. "What if I decide that I would rather have a career and a childfree home? Would you be alright with that?"

Goofy looked downward and I could tell his answer was no, so I continued. "Goofy, look around. Do you really think this is a good home to raise a child in with money problems, and two parents who are constantly angry with each other?"

"My Dad and I never had much money and neither did my Pop and me when I moved in with him," Goofy reasoned. "If there's love there it can survive any ob-stack-le."

"Maybe love can't survive when people are too different," I suggested. "Maybe a child would only make things worse." I hesitated before I answered. "Maybe, we want too many different things and maybe we can't make them fit. George, maybe we should separate for a little while."

Goofy looked wounded. "You serious?" he asked.

I nodded. "Just long enough to think things over."

"I'll spend the night at Mickey's," Goofy said. He walked into the bedroom and picked up a few things. As soon as he emerged from the bedroom, his suitcase was packed haphazardly with clothes bulging out of it. "Penny, promise me that while I'm gone you'll eat something," he said.

I started. I didn't realize Goofy had paid attention. "What are you talking about?"

Goofy dropped his suitcase. "Come on, Pen, I ain't blind. You always make some excuse about not having dinner, you're too busy, too tired from work. I hadn't seen you eat in front of me in over a week now and I saw what you did at Tony's, putting the food on your napkin. It ain't healthy, Pen."

I felt my stomach growl and my head feel light, but I kept picturing myself fat and enormous. No I have to continue. "I'm just under a lot of pressure and I haven't had an appetite that's all." I said.

"For nearly two weeks?" Goofy questioned. "I'm worried about ya! I don't want you starving yourself. I don't even know why you're beautiful!"

"No, I'm not," I said. "All I see is this ugly gangly awkward thing."

"That ain't what I see," Goofy said.

"Well you see things differently," I said. "I thought you were leaving."

"I ain't gonna leave until you promise to eat something," Goofy insisted.

I sighed. "Alright, I will," I said. Goofy looked at me with those sad pleading eyes. I couldn't say anymore to him, so I turned around and headed to my bedroom and shut the door. I heard the front door close behind me. I leapt up, "George I think we're making…" I said but the empty living room was my only answer…

….. Well I hadn't had much energy to write lately. I've been spending most of my time at work working on the calendar and filler articles. I don't talk to my colleagues except to hand them the copy and leave for the day. When someone asks me what's wrong, I just glower and say that I just want to be left alone.

The apartment seems bigger and emptier without Goofy around. He calls every night, but I hang up the phone not ready to talk to him. I thought about breaking down and eating something like I promised. I even bought a small cobb salad and sat with it on the table, moving it up and down on my fork. My stomach stopped growling a long time ago, or I just ignore it I'm not sure which. I can also somehow feel the other presence inside, it wants to eat too. I hold the fork up to my mouth, but then think. I can't control my job when I'm stuck. I can't control my body, because I am unexpectedly pregnant. I can't control my marriage, now that my husband's gone. I may end up a single mother!

I'm powerless, more helpless than when I lived with my parents. Would my life always spin out of control? I thought I could make it without them and now here I am in worse shape than ever! I can't handle anything except what I eat, and how much I eat. I sigh, pick up the cobb salad, and besides being aware that I just wasted food, I throw it in the trash uneaten.

I lay down on the couch and hug one of the decorative pillows. No I can't be a mother. I am already jeopardizing the life of my baby by not eating. So, what difference does it make if it doesn't exist anymore. I think about what Dr. Maltin said when I first met him: We can make arrangements to have this pregnancy terminated if this is what you wish, Mrs. Goof. I have always been pro-choice, maybe it's about time I made one.

I weigh the pros and cons in my head until I can't think anymore. Was it fair for me to have an abortion without telling Goofy? He is the father and he wants children. What if this is his only chance to have them? What about me? Will I be able to raise this baby on my own? The arguments ring in my head until I'm too dizzy to think about it. In fact, I'm getting too dizzy to write. Maybe I'd better sleep on it and think more about it tomorrow….

…. Thank you to any God who's listening that Daisy gave me my journal! I was about to die of boredom in this hospital bed. Of course after the past couple of days of anxiety and worry, I could use some time to think but too much of it can be tiring.

Wow a lot did happen and made things much clearer in my life. I love my husband and I love our baby, love our friends, and I'm even beginning to love myself a little more.

Let's see where we left off, I was depressed because I forced Goofy and I to separate, I wasn't eating properly, and considered having an abortion. You never realize what it takes to realize how important things are and how much people mean to you. I knew that when I saw the flames at the Iwerks Children's Home and panicked that Goofy was inside them.

I was writing one of my filler articles and inside the news room was simply Mr. Owlsner and myself. All of the other news writers were on assignment. It was so quiet that I heard the click of the heels of Mr. Owlsner's secretary, Maria More, outside the room. "Mr. Owlsner," she said breathlessly. "There's a story on the teletype, a big one!"

Mr. Owlsner ran to the teletype and hollered so loudly. "There's a big fire at the Iwerks' Home!" I sprang up. This didn't sound good. My heart broke for those kids, Mr. Oswald, Mrs. Ortensia, and Miss Alice.

Mr. Owlsner looked around to see if anyone was there. "All my best writers are out!"

"Let me do it, Mr. Owlsner," I said grabbing my notebook, camera, and tape recorder. I felt dizzy from the lack of food, but I ignored it. Here was my chance and I needed to help the Children's Home. I confirmed what was no doubt going through Ed Owlsner's mind. "The Iwerks Home is six blocks away," I said. "I'm your only chance to get the story. Let me do it, sir."

Mr. Owlsner. "Alright," he glowered. "But write like a man, not soft, squishy lovey dovey! Write like a reporter!"

"Yes sir," I smiled as I ran out of the news room and down the elevator.

I could see the smoke even before I ran to the home. Fire engines screamed as firefighters gathered to put out the flames. I got some statements from the fighters about the fire itself how big it was, the cause, and if there were any casualties. (Five alarm, faulty wiring, and no not yet but there were still people inside the building that they were trying to get out.)

I ran through the spectators and tried to get a few comments while I took pictures of the fire as the fire crew worked. Even though I was worried about the home and the children, I did feel the reporter blood begin to boil on how big this news was. Not just the excitement but the anger. I knew the Iwerks building was old, but faulty wiring? Why wasn't the Toon Town City Council onto this? And where was Los Angeles County when this was going on?

I saw Mr. Oswald and Mrs. Ortensia surrounded by a group of children. I called Oswald's name and he turned to see me, "Oswald, do you have a minute for some questions?" I asked breathlessly I realized that the excitement and lack of food was making me dizzy, but no I had a job to do. I couldn't back down now. "What happened?"

Oswald glared and for the first time the normally calm easy-going sweet-tempered rabbit (except when 'his' kids caused trouble) was angry. "I tell you what happened," he practically spat. He motioned for me to walk with him. He let a couple of the children go, so he could be alone with me. He gave the kids a hug and Ortensia a kiss before he talked to me.

"This building had been a death trap for years," Oswald swore. "I have taken it up with the City Council numerous times that we needed better facilities and they never listened. Oh sure, they put it through the meetings but they said it was a county problem and you know how the county is in helping us 'toons!" I knew Los Angeles County would take its time in helping if it ever did. "We tried to keep the place open. These kids wouldn't have a home if we didn't. But the roof had holes in it and the walls leaked. Let's not even discuss the wires." He motioned at the flames as though they spoke for him. "Just think it was during the Entertainment." I wrote as fast as he talked.

I started. "Entertainment? What do you mean?"

Now Oswald looked confused. "I thought you knew-Goofy would have told you-" Obviously he didn't know we were separated. "Well Mickey and the others were doing an entertainment when the fire started." He nodded closer to the window where Minnie, Pluto, and Daisy were forming a chain as children were being carried out. I saw Mickey stick his head out occasionally to carry a child as Minnie gathered them. I ran towards them asking quick questions about what was going on. "Some of the younger children were trapped upstairs," Minnie replied. Mickey, Donald, and Goofy are getting them and we're helping them get out of the building."

I felt sick and began to hyperventilate. "Goofy no," I said in denial. "Where is he?"

"Him and Donald are still inside," Daisy said as Mickey jumped out with a child in his arms. Minnie and Daisy helped push him out as he coughed. "Donald's right behind me." True to his word, Donald appeared holding two girls who clung to him.

Both Daisy and Minnie held the loves of their lives as they coughed in their arms. My eyes filled. "Where's Goofy?" I asked frantically.

"He was right behind us," Mickey said.

"He went after Little Joe," Donald coughed. "The idiot ran off!"

I tried so hard to continue working on the interviews but my mind kept drifting to the thought of Goofy inside that building as the flames began to finally lower because of the water from the hoses. More than anything I wanted my husband to live and I wanted his baby! I wanted to wrap Goofy around my arms and tell him how much I loved him, and how much I needed him in my life, how proud I was to be pregnant with his child.

I couldn't stop crying. I knew I had to be a reporter, but right then I was a woman who was worried about her husband and the father of her child.

"Goof," a familiar strident voice yelled. I looked up to see Mr. Owlsner glaring at me "I knew you weren't the man for this job! You're not made for hard news if a fire is going to make you cry! You are too soft for this job-~!"

"YOU SHUT UP!" Daisy yelled at Mr. Owlsner. "Penny is doing her job! She interviewed people and she is working on her article! Her husband happens to be in that building and she is worried about him! She is not just a reporter, she is a person and she is allowed to have feelings! Reporters are supposed to care about their subjects and Penny does that! If you had any decency or compassion you would see that in her!"

I smiled at Daisy. We will never have what Mickey, Goofy, and Donald or even what she and Minnie have-years of friendship that evolved to a close family, but I will always be grateful for what we do have and right then how Daisy stood up for me. I mouthed thank you and she mouthed you're welcome back at me.

Mr. Owlsner sputtered and looked embarrassed. "Alright, carry on then, Goof," he said as though that were his original thought.

"Yes sir," I said as two firefighters emerged with a tall lanky figure between them, a familiar figure. "George," I ran to my husband happy tears filling my eyes.

In Goofy's arms was a small young male kitten boy. "Here's Little Joe," Goofy said between coughs. He handed him to Mrs. Ortensia and Mr. Oswald who hugged the little boy. The paramedics lay Goofy on a gurney and put an oxygen mask on him. "Is he going to be okay?" I asked.

"He has tremendous smoke inhalation," said the attendant. "We have to take him to the hospital."

"You idiot," I said to him with tears in my eyes. "You have to promise you will never do something so stupid, again!"

" I had to save those kids," Goofy said.

I touched my womb. "What about this kid? Don't you think our baby should see its father?"

"Well I figured he'd be okay and-" Goofy began, but then the full meaning of what I said hit him at once. "You're pregnant?" I nodded happily. "I'm going to be a Dad!" He cheered. "I'm gonna be a dad! She's gonna be a Mom!" He was about to leap from the stretcher when the paramedics held him down.

"That's great Mr. Goof," one said amused. "But lie down, so you can be looked after."

"I'll lie down, I'll lie down," Goofy said. "I'm gonna be a dad!"

"I'm coming with you," I insisted. "I have to be with you in the hospital. Oh wait-"I looked towards the direction of the Talker. "I haven't finished the article. I haven't typed or copyedited it yet. I can get someone else to finish it-"

"-No Penny," Goofy said. "You do it, you're here. That building ain't right and we all know it. Don't let what happened to us happen to anyone else. I'll be alright for a little while."

"I'll come to you as soon as I finish," I promised. I gave the paramedics the Talker number and to give me any information about Goofy's condition immediately.

I must have won an award for the fastest time to get an article typed, copy edited, posted, photographs to be developed, and the article to get put in the paper and to bed. Nick was putting the finishing touches with the News section as I finished. "Hey Penny," Nick said. "Heard it was a good story."

I stopped to catch my breath feeling the dizziness and sickness fill my entire body. I ignored it for too long. "Yeah," I said breathlessly. "Now I am going to be at the hos-uh hospital to be with-huh-my husband-" That was far as I got when the room spun around and I saw lights around my eyes before I collapsed.

I woke up and realized that I was in the hospital. I lay in a bed with a nurse and Dr. Maltin standing over me, as well as a lioness doctor that I didn't recognize. "No," I said. "I have to see my husband," I begged. "Where is my husband?"

"He's fine, Mrs. Goof," Dr. Maltin said. "He's in the burn unit. They are investigating right now as we speak."

"Then why am I here?" I asked.

"Because you fainted at work Mrs. Goof and your co-worker Nick Noseworthy called it in," the female doctor said. "My name is Dr. Hightower and I work with psychiatric problems, specifically eating disorders."

"Eating disorders?" I said. "No, I don't have that. I don't know what you are talking about."

"Mrs. Goof," Dr. Maltin said. "Your last exam showed that you were dangerously underweight. That is not only harmful for you but for the baby you are carrying. It needs nourishment. If it doesn't it could be born premature and underweight. It may not be born at all."

I touched my womb. When I wasn't sure whether I wanted the baby or not, it never occurred to me that I was doing any damage to the baby by not eating. Now that I knew that I wanted it, I felt horrible. Was I secretly trying to abort this baby on my own by diminishing its chances for survival? "I'm terrible, horrible. I don't deserve to have this baby or my husband!"

"Sure you do, Penny," a familiar voice said. I looked up to see Goofy. He was in a hospital gown and tied to an oxygen tank to help him breathe because of the some inhalation. Doctors and nurses ran frantically after him.

"George," I said with tears in my eyes. "I'm so sorry." Goofy ran towards me knocking the tank down. He hugged and kissed me as we both apologized for all the things we did and said to each other.

"Mr. Goof, please return to your room right now," a nurse commanded.

"Gawrsh, okay, see you later honey," I waved at my husband.

Dr. Hightower and Maltin smiled at my retreating husband. "I don't know why but I love him so," I said with laugh. "Okay I do know why. I want to have this baby and I want to eat again."

"That's a good first step, Mrs. Goof," Dr. Hightower said. "But we need to work out the reasons why you were starving yourself."

"I was under a lot of stress and dealing with pressures at work and in my marriage," I said.

"Yes but many have that problem, Mrs. Goof," Dr. Hightower. "What we need to figure out are the root causes of your anorexia nervosa and why you chose to act as you did."

"Plus, you need to get your weight back up to normal for yourself and the baby," Dr. Maltin added.

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

"We think that you should spend some time in an Eating Disorder Clinic," Dr. Hightower said. I was about to object but she continued. "I'm the main physician so I will be with you every step of the way. We will have counseling sessions and talk about your problems and get you slowly to start eating again."

"Can I have visitors?" I asked.

Dr. Hightower smiled. "I have a feeling that we couldn't keep your husband from visiting if we tried."

I laughed. "You probably couldn't."

"You may have visitors but you don't want to overexert yourself, so not too many," she said.

"Well I will have to take some time off at work," I said.

"That has already been arranged, Mrs. Goof," Dr. Maltin said. "Your editor, Mr. Noseworthy was concerned and he informed your editor-in-chief."

"Well that's a relief," I said. "Okay, I'll do it anything for my baby and my husband."

"Don't do this just for them," Dr. Hightower said. "Do it for yourself." …..

….. Well that puts me up to speed. I am sitting in the Disorder Clinic writing in my journal. Dr. Hightower has been very helpful. I told her about my parents and how they made me feel as a child. She made me see that I was still carrying their opinion of me even though I was married and independent, that I was still trying to measure up to their expectations. She reminds me that I don't have to be perfect and that I should allow myself wiggle room to make mistakes.

And I have been eating. At first, I had been getting the liquids pumped into my body intravenously, then taking supplements that had the vitamins and minerals that my body lacked. Now I am finally eating solid food, beginning with little meals like salads, bread, and soup. Dr. Hightower said my weight is finally getting there.

Of course I have visitors, Goofy has been released from the hospital with a clean bill of health and he has been to see me every day. He gives me a kiss, flowers, and reminds me how much he loves me.

The others have also seen me. Donald and Daisy told me how much Donald is finally starting to look forward to being an uncle. "The little regret's going to need a fatherly influence," he said gruffly, but he smiled.

"You'll be a good one," I promised Donald.

Mickey and Minnie also offered some surprises. Minnie showed me her engagement ring now prominently on her right ring finger. "We talked about it," she said with tears in her eyes. "Mickey understands and he loves me anyway."

"Did you really doubt him?" I asked.

The biggest surprise came from Mickey. He showed me a new version of the contract with seven spaces for signatures. "You're not just Goofy's wife or Daisy and Minnie's old friend," Mickey said. "You're my friend too. I'm sorry I've been ignoring you."

I smiled and hugged him and signed my name to the contract. "I'm just glad that I have a great group of friends."

I have also heard about the firestorm (pun not intended) that my article started. It made the front page of the Talker and received quite a bit of feedback. Many readers were disgusted at how the building had been in disrepair and wrote angry letters to the City Council and the County to have them look at it. The children and staff are currently staying in a temporary building, but it appears there may finally be enough pressure to have an entirely new building constructed that is up to regulation standards. I am so happy for them…

…. I finally returned home after almost a week at the clinic. I wasn't quite ready to go back to work, yet so Goofy and I lay in each other's arms on the couch just talking and laughing when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Goofy said. "Hello Goof residence. This is Goofy speaking ahyuck." He stopped and handed the phone over to me. "It's for you."

I answered when I heard Mr. Owlsner's voice talk to me over the phone. "Goof, I want you at the Talker tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes sir," I said. "Do you want me to come back to work early?" I was confused. They said I could take another couple of days off.

"No, you have been requested to have a private meeting with D.K. Owlson," he replied.

I practically fell over. D.K. Owlson, the publisher wanted to meet with me! What for? Had he heard about my fainting? Did he wonder about my health and thought I didn't have the stamina to be a reporter? No, Penny, I thought, remember don't think like that. Be hopeful. Be positive. "Okay, I'll be there," I said….

… Well to say the least, it was an interesting meeting. Not only that but the conversation between Goofy and me later made everything complete.

I appeared at the meeting dressed in my long olive-green skirt, blazer, and white shirt. Even though I was dressed professionally, I could feel my knees knocking for several minutes. I rode the elevator up to the highest level of the Talker building and told the secretary that I was here to see D.K. Owlson.

"Yes, you've been expected go right in," the woman said.

I walked inside and saw a female owl sitting behind the desk. She was dressed in black slacks and a blazer and her dark hair was tied back. She was older, but reminded me of one of those old movie stars like Katharine Hepburn or Lauren Bacall, who still looked tough but glamorous. She was talking on the phone with a throaty voice that sounded like she once smoked too much. "Alright, Ed, sounds like a great idea, I'll talk to you later," she said.

I was confused. "D.K. Owlson?" I was embarrassed that I hadn't realized that D.K. Owlson, the publisher and Mr. Owlsner's writing partner during WWII that he spoke so highly was a woman!

D.K. Owlson laughed and she looked at the nameplate on her desk. "Oh, I have to remember to turn this thing around once in a while. There." I read the nameplate that read. "Dorothy Katharine Owlson."

"You worked with Ed Owlsner during the war?" I said.

Ms. Owlson nodded. "Some of the most exciting times!"

I was amazed. "I read some of the articles that you did covering both the Atlantic and Pacific Theatres. That was quite impressive that you were there writing for all the major events-"

"-Almost," Ms. Owlson corrected. "We arrived at Normandy on June 7, darn plane made us one day late! You sound amazed."

"Well impressed," I said. "All your articles were written as Dee Owlson, I never thought that you were a –"

"-Well neither did many of the soldiers I interviewed," Ms. Owlson said. "It was just easier to go under the name Dee and avoid any unnecessary complications."

"And you're the publisher so that makes you Ed Owlsner's boss," I said feeling like an idiot. "But he has, if you will forgive me for saying so, a very negative opinion about female news writers."

Ms. Owlson laughed. She was obviously used to his behavior. "Ed Owlsner is a good editor. However, he is rather old-fashioned. He seems to think of me as the exception to the rule. It never occurs to him that the exception COULD be the rule. But he does a good job with the paper and he is my husband, so I have to live with it."

"Your husband?" I said with a laugh.

"Well how else do you think he got the job," Ms. Owlson said with a wink. "I am just kidding. We are both good at what we do but we keep our professional lives separate. That's why I use my maiden name instead of my married one. Now you're wondering why I called you. Have a seat. Would you like a drink?"

I nodded and looked downward. "Just a glass of ice water will be fine."

Ms. Owlson poured and handed me the water. "I read your article about the Iwerks' fire as well as your other efforts. Not only that but you have quite a talent that my husband has not seen fit to promote. Am I right?" I didn't want to say anything, but something about Ms. Owlson made me want to tell her the truth.

"No, he doesn't want me to write for the news," I said. "He thinks I'm too soft and feminine."

"Well we'll see about that," Ms. Owlson said. "How would you like me to personally suggest to Ed that you get promoted to the news team as a full-time writer?"

I smiled. "Really you would do that?"

"Of course Ed Owlsner's word may be law down there," She pointed downwards at the news room. Then she pointed at her office. "But up here and at home, it's my word that gets the final say."

I felt like flying. Here she was offering the chance of a lifetime. I wanted it so badly, but then I remembered. "Thanks Ms. Owlson, but it wouldn't be fair to you or the paper. I'll have to go on leave in a few months."

D.K. Owlson smiled. "How long are you?" I was surprised. "I assumed when you wanted water even though we know what assuming makes. It turns out I was right this time."

"Only a month," I answered.

"Well tell you what," Ms. Owlson said. "We'll work something out. You work for the news division, write your little heart out, until say you're sixth or seventh month. Then, you'll be at the copyediting desk, temporarily until you go on maternity leave. I could never live with myself if too much stress damages either of you. If after your little one is born, if you decide that your life is cribs, bottles, and diapers then my blessing on you and yours. But if you want to come back to the paper, then there will be a place snugly waiting for you in the news room when you get back."

"Really, you would do that for me?" I asked.

"Absolutely," D.K. Owlson said. She looked at me almost like a mother to a daughter. "You see when I started, you were either a mother or a career woman. Many women made one choice, but I made another. I don't regret it, but well, it's never fair that women have to make that choice. You could be both."

"Thank you, Ms. Owlson, I appreciate it!" I said shaking her hand.

"Call me Dee," she said.

"Dee," I said practically dancing out of her office…..

….. I told Goofy about my meeting with Dee Owlson and he smiled and hugged me. "That's great, Penny! I always knew ya could do it! In fact, it fits nicely into something I've been thinking about."

"What?" I asked.

"Well I thought a lot about what you said, about how I should 'find a job I love and stick to it.'"Goofy said.

"George," I said. "I should never have said that. That was a terrible thing to say."

"But it had some truth in it," Goofy interrupted. "And you're right. I do get distracted easily. Maybe the jobs don't satisfy me. But I think I found one that might."

"What?" I asked.

"Well I've been thinking about it since the fire and I was thinking about those poor kids who didn't have a mom or a dad to look after them and I've been thinking about our baby and how he will have both," Goofy stammered. "So I was wonderin' if it's okay with you that since you just got this job and you're gonna do great at it. That I can stay at home and take care of the little one!"

I was surprised. "Really, George? For how long?"

"Until the baby's older, school maybe," Goofy said. "But I want to be there to feed him, and rock him, and help him sleep, tickle him and hear his little laugh."

I had tears in my eyes. I could just picture George Goof doing that and he would be wonderful at it. "But George, people may say things, make fun of you calling you a wimp saying you're doing woman's work-"

"-Since when I have ever cared what people say about me," Goofy reminded me. "Come on Penny, you are always talking about femin-femmy-femalist! You are always saying that women can do anything a man can do. Well I'm thinking why can't a man look after his baby as good as any woman?"

"And why not," I said kissing him. "George Geef Goof, you will be a wonderful stay-at-home dad!"

"And you'll be the best writer and Mama," Goofy agreed…..

…Goofy and I are lying in bed discussing names. "Why not George Jr.?" Goofy teases.

"George, I grew up my whole life with Jr's. II's, III's and so on. I knew someone who was a VI! There's nothing wrong with that, but this baby should be his own person. At least as a first name. He shouldn't just be an extension of his family's names," I answer

"So what do you think?" Goofy asks

I consider. Peter? No, James no too common. "Well it should be unique because this baby will be unique like his father."

"Or his mother?" Goofy says chucking me on the chin. "Yeah it'll be one in a million alright."

The word rang through my head…million…million. That's it! "How about Maximillian?" I suggest.

"Great," Goofy smiles "And for short we'll call him Max or Maxie!"

"That's our boy," I say "What if it's a girl?"

"Millie?" Goofy says.

"Too close to Millicent," I make a face. "Nothing on Minnie but-" Goofy understands. It's the name of the woman who gave birth to me.

"Alright Maxine," Goofy says.

"That will work," I say stretching out and lie down ready for bed. We whisper good-night to each other.

Goofy then leans down to my womb and kisses it. "Good-night, Maxie," he whispers inside.

"Silly Goof," I tease. "His ears haven't formed yet. He can't hear you."

"Sure he can," Goofy says as his head rests against my chest.

I smile. "Good night Maxie," I whisper to our baby. I rub my husband's head and think of how we almost separated. May I never do anything to hurt this wonderful man ever again!

Author's Notes

Penny's boss' name Ed Owlsner is a tribute to Ed Asner who played Lou Grant on the Mary Tyler Moore Show and did several Disney voices such as Hudson in Gargoyles and Carl in Up. Dr. Maltin's name is a tribute to Leonard Maltin, film critic, Disney historian and the author of The Disney Films, the definitive book of Disney movies. I used it for a recent blog of book reviews for books on Hollywood.

Goofy mentioned "Meatballs Wednesday" in the first Goof Troop episode, "Everything's Coming Up Goofy." Like all traditions, it has to start somewhere

Tony's is the Italian restaurant that Lady and the Tramp (1954) go to for their famous spaghetti dinner. It is still staffed by Tony and his skinny buddy, Joe.

The design company that Minnie works for is Clopin's, named after the very colorfully dressed flamboyant Gypsy Narrator/Court of Miracles Judge, Clopin from the Hunchback of Notre Dame (1997)

The way that the unnamed film company agreed to distribute the cartoons but gave the gang total creative control was similar to the arrangement made between Walt Disney and the original film companies like RKO that distributed his works and the later arrangement between the Disney Company and Pixar. (Yes I know that technically by this point Mickey and the gang have been showing their shorts and movies for decades before that. Pretend that up until they have only been showing them for friends, acquaintances and some of the Toon Town residents. This just means that they'll be showing them to the wider non-Toon audience.)

Of course the various suggestions for the name of their company are all titles of subsequent Disney TV series. Except for Paws Incorporated, which is Jim Davis' company that licenses Garfield and its merchandise.

Goofy's line "Kids are great, I hope I have a million of 'em." Comes from the Goofy short Parents Are People which was also the debut of Goofy Jr. AKA Max.

D.K. Owlson was inspired in part by real-like war correspondent reporter, Dorothy Thompson and Washington Post publisher, Katherine Graham. She was also inspired by Katharine Hepburn's character Tess Harding in Woman of the Year (my favorite Spencer Tracy-Katharine Hepburn movie)