Ch 63 – Then and Now (2)
At first Angela didn't realize what was happening. Too great was her relief when Dr. Solomon withdrew the needle. One final sting, and it was over, thank God. But then Tony's hands slid off her shoulders abruptly, followed by a loud thud.
"Tony!?" As much as she tried, she couldn't see him from her position, lying on her back with Dr. Solomon still pressing the ultrasound probe to her stomach.
The nurse, who had had her back turned to put away the tube of amniotic fluid that she had just drawn, hurried over immediately and knelt where Tony must have been lying on the ground.
"Oh, no," she said not unkindly. Then, directed at Angela: "Don't worry, this happens. Your husband is coming back around already."
Indeed, Angela could hear Tony stirring and mumbling.
"Mr. Bower?" the nurse asked loudly, adding insult to injury, "Can you hear me?"
More mumbling.
"You passed out on us just now."
"What?"
"Here, let me put this under your head. And we'll elevate those legs." There was shuffling and groaning.
"Mrs. Bower?" Dr. Solomon said, distracting Angela from the drama unfolding just outside of her field of vision. "We'll be done here in a minute."
Angela looked back at him. "Of course, I'm sorry. I was-"
"I understand. Really, it is pretty common," the doctor said as he wiped the spot on her stomach where he had inserted the needle. "We know it's a stressful situation. But let me assure you, the procedure went smoothly, and we got everything we need. I would like to take one more look to make sure your baby is doing well, okay?"
"Yes, of course." Angela did her best to tune out Tony and the nurse on the floor and focus her attention on the little screen once more.
Dr. Solomon moved the probe around, and after a few seconds, there it was again: the baby, looking just as perfect as before. When the fast, steady heartbeat filled the room, Angela felt herself exhale. She unclenched her fists, and her hands began to tremble. To make them stop, she put one on top of the other on her chest, but it didn't quite work.
"Everything looks good," Dr. Solomon said calmly, bound to have noticed her nerves. "But I recommend that you take it easy for the rest of the day and tomorrow. Rest as much as you can and drink lots of fluids, no heavy lifting, no exercise. Mild cramping is possible, but it shouldn't last longer than a few hours. If there is any bleeding, or loss of fluid, if you get a fever, or if you have any other concerns at all, please give us a call, alright? Day or night. There is an emergency number on the information sheet."
Angela nodded. "I will, thank you doctor."
"You're very welcome." Dr. Solomon smiled and handed her a couple of paper towels. "Please take your time getting dressed. And we'll be sure to get your h- to get Mr. Micelli some ice and a glass of water. Nurse Whitaker will help you with that. As for the results, we will be in touch within two to three weeks, like we discussed."
Then Dr. Solomon bid his goodbye to them, shaking Angela's hand and nodding at Tony, who was still on the floor, before leaving the room.
Angela carefully wiped at the iodine residue on her stomach, but most of it had already dried. She would wash it off in the shower tonight. Slowly, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the cot, protective of her still tender ribs and newly conscious of a dull ache low in her abdomen. Holding her belly with one hand, she looked around the room.
The nurse, whose name was apparently Whitaker – Angela hadn't caught it before –, crouched next to Tony. With his legs in her lap, she was trying to convince him not to get up just yet.
"But I'm fine," he argued, "I swear."
"I don't want you to faint again."
"I won't. It was just- I looked at the needle."
"Well, alright," she said reluctantly. "But please sit for a minute while I get you some water." She pointed at a spot next to Angela on the cot. Then she helped Tony up.
"Are you alright?" Angela asked after Nurse Whitaker had left the room, searching his features for any indication of how he was feeling.
At first, he didn't look at her. He had the beginnings of a good-size goose egg above his right eyebrow. The nurse seemed to have loosened his tie, as it hung limply and slightly askew around his collar.
Angela had taken note of the businesslike way Tony had dressed for the appointment. He didn't usually wear a suit and tie to campus, and she suspected that he wanted to fit in at Dr. Solomon's Manhattan practice. Now he looked a little worse for wear, and Angela's heart went out to him.
"Your forehead," she said gently but didn't dare to touch him just yet. She could tell that he was embarrassed, and she had learned over the years that he needed space in a moment like this.
Tony ran a hand over his face. "Shit, Angela, I'm sorry."
"What for?"
He chuckled bitterly. "For fainting on you like a little- like some wimp."
"Tony. You're not a wimp. That could have happened to anyone."
"Right. They stick a huge needle into your stomach, but I'm the one who passes out."
Now she reached for his hand that rested on the cot between them, next to a large stain of iodine solution. "Don't forget I had an advantage. I was already lying down."
The muscles in Tony's jaw worked, and finally he looked at her, utterly chagrined. "I guess it's all the medical stuff, you know? I'm just- I'm not good around that sort of thing. Not anymore."
Before Angela could ask a follow-up question, Nurse Whitaker returned with two plastic cups of water and a small bag full of crushed ice that she handed to Tony.
Then she went on to take Angela's blood pressure. When she was satisfied with the result, it was Tony's turn.
"Is that really necessary?" he asked.
"You fainted, Mr.-"
"Micelli," Tony interjected, "Micelli."
"I'm sorry. Mr. Micelli. I'm afraid we cannot let you leave without a few precautions," she explained with an unapologetic smile.
Tony gave in and rolled up his sleeve. Once the blood pressure reading was done, Nurse Whitaker shone a small flashlight into his eyes.
"No signs of a concussion," she concluded.
"Thank you," Angela said while Tony lifted the bag of ice and gingerly held it to his brow.
"Yeah, thank you."
"Of course. I'll see you out front when you're ready," the nurse said and left the room.
Angela emptied her cup of water in three large sips. She was beginning to feel a lot steadier, and she was happy to know that Tony was alright, the bump on his forehead notwithstanding.
"I'll go change, okay?" she said as she prepared to slide off the cot.
"Are you sure?" He looked at her, brows furrowed beneath the bag of ice. "If you need to rest-"
"I'm sure. I want to get out of this thing." She tugged on the flimsy paper gown that was open in the back and barely long enough to cover her behind. "And then I want to go home."
ooooooooo
Twenty minutes later, Angela sat in one of the deep leather chairs in the lobby of Dr. Solomon's building, waiting for Tony. He had insisted that he should go ahead by himself and bring the car around for her.
"You heard what the doctor said, Angela. You're supposed to take it easy. I'm not letting you walk seven blocks in 40-degree weather when I can come pick you up right here."
Angela hadn't tried to protest because he was right. She didn't want to do anything to put the pregnancy at risk, and this was also a good way to let Tony feel capable again. It hurt to see him so disappointed in himself.
She watched through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the lobby as Tony stalked off around the corner, facing the ice-cold wind like a soldier going into battle.
Eventually, a familiar horn sounded outside, and she gathered her things and stepped into the freezing early March evening to find that Tony had pulled up to the curb in the Jaguar. Inside, the heater was on full blast, and it felt so good to slide into the familiar leather seat and shut the door behind her.
They drove in silence for the first few minutes. Angela wanted to let Tony focus on the dense mid-evening traffic, the events from two months ago still very present in her memory.
"Are you feeling okay?" Tony looked over at her when they were waiting at a red light.
"Yeah. I'm so relieved." She let her head loll to the left against the headrest so she could smile at him.
"Me too." He reached across the middle console and squeezed her hand. "How's your- I mean, does anything hurt? You know, since the doctor said …"
"I'm feeling a little crampy," she answered honestly. "But it's not too bad. I'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow."
"Oh. Are you sure it's not-"
"Really, Tony, Dr. Solomon said it's normal. I'm not worried." Sitting in the warm car also seemed to help with the discomfort.
"Well, okay," Tony said as the light turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. "But you let me know if anything changes, okay?"
"I promise." With that, Angela gave in to a big yawn.
As a passenger, she didn't like to fall asleep on the person driving, it was inconsiderate. But as the minutes passed, it became more and more difficult to keep her eyes open. She felt blissfully drowsy, and whenever she blinked, the lights outside blurred one right into the other.
By the time they were on the Interstate, she was fast asleep.
ooooooooo
"Sweetheart." That was Tony's voice, and his hand rubbing her shoulder. "Angela."
"Mhm?"
"We're home," he said, and she opened her eyes with some effort. Indeed, they were parked in the driveway.
"Oh. I'm sorry I fell asleep."
"Are you kidding? You can sleep all you want. In fact, go right on up to bed if you feel like it."
Angela yawned and shook her head. "No. I want to talk to the kids. And I'm hungry."
After allowing herself another moment to fully come to, she followed Tony into the house. The kitchen was empty, but the scent of his famous tomato sauce still hung in the air.
"Maybe the kids left some for us," Tony said as he pushed through the swinging door.
Angela hoped so. Now that the afternoon's excitement was behind her, she felt famished.
In the living room, Samantha lay sprawled on the couch, watching a music video.
"Hey, Dad. Hey, Angela," she said when they came in, one eye still on the television.
"Hi, sweetheart. Did you and Jonathan eat?"
"Yeah. There's pasta and sauce in the fridge. In case you guys are hungry."
"Thank you, we are." Angela could already feel her tummy rumbling. "Is Jonathan upstairs?"
"Yup. Practicing the accordion from hell."
"Sam," Tony admonished her. "Why don't you go and get him and join us in the kitchen in ten minutes?"
"Why?" Suddenly, Sam was alert. "What's going on? Ohhh, right, your appointment! How was it? And what happened to your forehead, Dad! Did you get in another accident?"
"Everything is fine." Angela raised her hands, trying to project calm. "The appointment went very well. We just have something we want to show you."
"Yes, what Angela said. And I- I hit my head. Someone left the door to their locker open at school. No big deal. Honest."
"Okay," Sam said hesitantly. But then she got off the couch and went upstairs to get Jonathan.
A little later, the kids filed into the kitchen while Tony was busy ladling hot pasta and tomato sauce onto two plates, one for himself and one for Angela.
"Go on, get yourselves some ice cream," he said and gestured at the freezer.
Of course Jonathan and Samantha didn't have to be told twice, and soon enough the whole family sat around the kitchen table.
"So, what is it?" Sam asked, spoon in mid-air.
"Do you want to?" Tony asked, and Angela nodded.
It was sweet of him to leave the floor to her. She finished twirling a strand of spaghetti around her fork and put them in her mouth before reaching around for her purse, which she had slung over the backrest of her chair.
Not yet done chewing, she began, "Your dad – Tony – and I went to see my doctor today. It was just for a check-up. So, nothing to worry about. But we did get to see the baby again."
"No need to say or do anything," Tony interjected, likely with Jonathan in mind. "We just thought you might get a kick out of this."
Angela pulled the strip of three ultrasound pictures out of her purse and laid in on the table in front of the kids.
"Meet your new sibling," Tony said theatrically as his hand closed around hers on the tabletop.
The stills Dr. Solomon had printed for them were like a best-of. One showed the whole baby from the side, arms and legs extended. The next one was a close-up of the baby's head in profile, and in the third, the baby had one little fist up by its mouth and was sucking its thumb, if Angela deciphered the image correctly. It was a little difficult to tell.
"Ohhh." Sam leaned forward. "It looks so much like a baby already."
"It does, doesn't it?" Angela said. Suddenly, she was emotional all over again.
"You should have seen the kind of moves it's got," Tony said, sounding proud.
"Well, what were you expecting, Dad! It is a Micelli."
Tony laughed, and out of the corner of her eye, Angela registered that Jonathan was looking at the printouts too. Tony had told her about his conversation with Jonathan last weekend when they went to look at the van together. He hadn't thawed all the way yet, but they were getting there. She hoped that it was the right thing to do to include him in moments like this, even if he didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable.
"Can you feel it kicking?" Sam asked.
"I think so, sometimes. But not every day."
"That's so cool. And do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
Angela shook her head. "They weren't able to see."
"Yeah, we've got a modest kid in there," Tony said, which made Angela chuckle.
"What do you want it to be?" Jonathan asked suddenly, serious. "A boy or a girl?"
"Doesn't matter one bit," Tony said. "Right?"
"Right," Angela agreed.
"We're going to love whoever comes along." Tony gave her a quick look, and Angela understood.
Jonathan nodded thoughtfully and then added, after a beat: "I hope it's a girl."
"You do? Why?" Angela asked.
Looking at his bowl of ice cream, Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "At least then she won't get into my stuff when she's older."
Sam laughed. "Trust me, no kid – boy or girl – wants to get into your stuff. It's disgusting."
"Oh yeah?" Jonathan shot back. "You're disgusting."
"Hey!" Tony raised a warning eyebrow at Sam.
As usual, Angela felt torn to hear the kids snipe at each other. On the one hand, she was glad that Samantha and Jonathan were behaving just like biological siblings. On the other hand, she would have preferred a little more peace between them. But that was probably what all parents wished for until the day the children moved out.
Sam smiled at Angela. "I think a girl would be nice. We could take her shopping, and to get our nails done, or to the Russian Tea Room …"
Angela remembered how wonderful it had felt to take eleven-year-old Samantha to Manhattan for her first shopping trip. She had grown out of her new clothes so quickly, but Angela knew that they would both cherish the memory forever.
"And what if she doesn't like all that girly stuff? Huh?" Tony asked. "Maybe she'll want to throw the ball around. Like you used to."
"I still like to play ball, Dad. I just don't have the time," Sam explained with the gentle eyeroll that was the trademark of teenagers everywhere.
"Or it could be a boy," Angela felt compelled to say, even though she did share Tony's 'hunch' that they were having a girl. This pregnancy was so different than her first, what with the intense morning sickness during the first trimester and the unsightly breakouts on her chin and cheeks. Also, the idea of getting to raise a little girl from day one had an undeniable charm.
"Maybe he'll like the same things you do," she continued, looking at Jonathan. "You could teach him about reptiles and the stock market."
"And how to play the accordion!" Sam giggled.
"At least he could learn something from me," said Jonathan haughtily. "Because I'm not stupid. Unlike some other people who only read price tags at the mall."
Sam grinned acerbically. "Well. If he's anything like my dad and me, he's going to be into sports, and what's he going to learn from you there, huh? How not to catch the ball?"
"You're such a-" Jonathan had put down his spoon and was about to punch Sam in the arm when Tony's loud "Okay!" interrupted him.
"How about we stop this right here!"
"But Dad!"
"Mom!"
A tension headache was beginning to build at the base of Angela's skull. This hadn't gone as well as she had hoped it would. Somehow, the kids were hell-bent on finding something to fight about, and on putting each other down in the process. Again, it was probably normal, but tonight she found it difficult to tolerate.
"Tony is right," she said, surprised at the strain in her voice. "I wish you two wouldn't fight all the time."
"Sam's always starting it!"
Jonathan wasn't wrong, Sam did like to pick on him. But Angela hardly ever felt it was her place to comment on this behavior. Although she and Tony had agreed that there wouldn't be any more distinctions between 'yours and mine', it usually fell to Tony to discipline his daughter, just as it was mostly her who called Jonathan to order.
"Sam, you leave Jonathan alone," said Tony with a tone of finality.
"You're just coddling him because he's being so immature about all of this!"
"I'm not!"
"Oh, please."
"Stop it!" Suddenly, and much to her own consternation, Angela slammed her hand flat on the tabletop, rattling the plates and silverware. "Both of you. Please."
ooooooooo
Following her outburst, the kitchen was silent. The kids were looking everywhere but at her, and Tony brought his hand to her back, stroking her in small circles.
With her head resting in her open palms, Angela took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I'm- We've had a long day."
"No, I'm sorry, Angela," Sam said. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Angela looked up. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Jonathan's gaze was on her now, too, his lips forming a thin, straight line.
"What are we even talking about here, huh?" Tony said quietly, his hand still on Angela's back. "We don't know what we're having, and it could be a boy, or a girl, or a giraffe for all I care. As long as it's-" Here, he stopped himself. As long as it's healthy. Wasn't that what people liked to say?
"The most important thing is that the kid is happy and loved," Tony continued. "Can we all agree on that?"
Samantha and Jonathan nodded.
"Okay. Thank you." Tony picked the ultrasound images up off the table. Then he went and pinned them to the door of the refrigerator.
"Can we be excused?" Sam asked sheepishly while she motioned for Jonathan to give her his ice cream bowl.
"Yes, of course," Angela said.
Sam put the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher before heading for the door. "I'll be up in my room, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Tony said as he began to clear away the rest of the dishes. "Sleep well."
Jonathan hung back for a moment, waiting until Sam had left the kitchen. At first it looked as if he was going to say something, but his mouth never moved.
"It's okay," Angela said eventually, wanting to make this easier for both of them. "We have a lot going on right now."
Jonathan nodded, then quickly turned around and disappeared into the living room.
"I don't know why they're fighting like cats and dogs all of a sudden," Tony said, coming to stand behind her.
Angela leaned back in her chair. "Mother was probably right. Remember when she said that a family is a system? And tension in one part of the system doesn't stay there, it spreads until it erupts?"
"I guess." Tony's hands were on her shoulders now, kneading the tight muscles there.
Angela put both hands on her belly. "I know we've been telling the kids that nothing is going to change. But I don't think that's true, and Sam and Jonathan know it too."
"So … do you think we're doing a good job here?" Tony dug his thumbs into two especially tender spots to the left and right of her spine, eliciting a pleasurable groan.
Angela considered his question for a moment. "I think we're doing our best. All of us. And that's enough."
Tony sighed. "This is a pretty wild ride, huh?"
"It is. But I wouldn't trade it for the world."
Leaning over her right shoulder, Tony kissed her cheek. "Me either. What do you say you go and take a shower? I'll finish cleaning up around here, and then I'll come up and rub your feet."
"Sounds perfect."