Tuesday, July 18, 1978

"Where is she? Where's my wife?"

Al's urgent voice echoed through the corridors of the hospital. I heard Ellie intercept him.

"Commander, this way. Please try and remain calm."

"Remain calm? Do you know the call I just got?"

"I do, sir. We're monitoring her now. We want her to stay calm, so I have to ask you to do the same." Their voices were louder now, right outside the doorway. "She's in here, sir."

Al came into the room and I relaxed slightly, comforted just at the sight of him in his khaki uniform. He tensed, however, as soon as saw me, halting in midstep and swallowing hard.

"My face looks worse than it is, Al." My split lip made me wince as I spoke. "I only took one hit in the mouth."

I was glad they'd propped me up facing the doorway. The doctors wanted to deflect my uterus to keep it off the blood vessels, so they'd elevated my right hip. Al walked quickly to my bedside, sat in the nearby chair, and took my hand. He rested his other hand on my pregnant belly and I cringed.

"Did I hurt you?" he gasped, yanking his hand away.

"It's not your fault, I'm just very bruised," I explained, placing my other hand atop the one that still held mine.

"They told me a patient attacked you. What happened?"

I nodded and took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears that had finally stopped from starting up again. "They were shorthanded and needed help in the ER. One of the patients was strung out on drugs and he…he just…went off." My shoulders started shaking. "He kicked me in the stomach! And, Al…I can't feel the baby moving!"

Briefly closing his eyes in pain, Al lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. "What did the doctors say?"

"They, um, they said I'm not bleeding, so that's a good sign." I tried to focus on that. Stressing out would be as bad for the baby as the blows I'd taken. "They were able to hear the baby's heartbeat, so we know it's still alive." I pushed away the negative thoughts of for now that popped into my head.

"Is it possible that the baby's just stunned and that's why you can't feel it?" he asked, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn't be too traumatic. I loved him for it.

"Maybe," I said, and looked intently into his eyes. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"I wish I was here for another reason. What about you…how are you feeling, hon?"

"Terrified for the baby more than anything."

Al squeezed my hand. "Who sent you to fill in in the ER?"

I didn't like the angry fire in his eyes when he asked that. It was a look that usually signaled he intended to take action. "W-What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about that, angel. Just tell me who had the brilliant idea of sending a pregnant nurse into that situation."

"Dr. Keller."

He repeated the name and bobbed his head somberly, and I reached to touch his forearm. "Al, please don't do anything rash."

He smiled and lovingly brushed hair off my forehead. "You just worry about feeling better, my darling."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but Dr. Winter came in at that moment.

"Hello, Beth." She stood behind Al and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, Al. Are you keeping her relaxed?"

"I'm doing my best, ma'am," he assured her, smiling at me.

"I read your chart, Beth. We've got fetal heart tone, and that's promising. That's very promising." She lowered the sheet to my hip. "I want to see what sort of injury we're dealing with, Beth. Do you mind if I lift your gown?"

"No," I said, licking dry lips, "go ahead." Al moved so that he wasn't in Dr. Winter's way, and his hand convulsively tightened on mine when she pushed up the hospital gown and he saw the angry purple and red bruising on my pregnant belly. She gently probed my stomach, and I flinched.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, Beth, how badly does it hurt?" she asked me, her hands moving across the expanse of my belly.

"Um…when it's touched…7, maybe an 8. Otherwise, it's a 4."

"Any contractions?" She was touching the lower portion of my abdomen now.

"One." As I spoke, pain seized me and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Al bent close. "Honey, what's wrong?"

I just shook my head, immobilized by the contraction, and when the sensation passed, I looked at Dr. Winter and tremulously said, "Two."

"Yes, I felt it." She sighed and lowered my gown, pulling the sheet back up a moment afterward. "I want them to hook you up to a fetal monitor, Beth. The baby might be in distress."

I gripped Al's hand and looked frantically from him to the doctor. "Dr. Winter…I…I haven't felt the baby move since they put me in here. How worried should I be?"

She sat on the edge of my bed and looked serious. Al slowly sat as well and draped an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it. While it's good—it's very good—that we've got a heartbeat, the lack of movement and the contractions are a concern to me. Tenderness is to be expected right now—the injury's still fresh. But I want to monitor the baby for the next few hours. If things settle out, you should be able to go home and take it easy for a few days. If they don't….well, then I'll want to keep you here, in case we have to do a C-section."

I nodded, my heart frozen at the prospect of them taking the baby early. I refused to let my mind focus on the third possibility she didn't mention…and even as I tried to keep it from my thoughts, there it was, hanging over me like a vulture. My eyes searched out Al's again.

He kissed my forehead. "Everything's gonna be okay, sweetheart."

Dr. Winter smiled, her blue eyes kind. "Listen to your husband. When you start feeling frightened, and I know you are right now, just focus on that, okay? It's important that you keep as calm as you can." She stood and added, "We're going to do everything we can for you and your baby, okay, Beth? I'll be right back. I've got some instructions for the nurses." She paused in the doorway. "Someone'll be in to set up the fetal monitor shortly."

When she was gone, Al pressed his lips to my temple and rubbed my shoulder, feeling my trembling beginning and trying to soothe me. "Shhh, honey. It's okay." He paused, then asked in a voice he couldn't keep the harshness out of, "What did they do with the scumbag who kicked you?"

"Ellie told me they stitched him up and then the cops took him away."

"The hospital's pressing charges, right?"

"I guess. I wasn't paying much attention."

He shook his head, annoyed at himself. "Of course you weren't. I'm sorry, Beth…I'm just so furious this happened to you."

I looked up at him, studying his eyes that were full of conflicting emotions—anger, fear, concern, and love. The same emotions that were surging through me. "I know." I touched his cheek tenderly, "I'm glad you're here…I'd be a basket case otherwise."

A knock on the open door drew our attention and we watched Ellie push in a cart with a machine on it. She approached my bed and showed us an elastic belt with a plastic box-like device at the center. "I'm going to strap this around your abdomen, Beth, and the monitor will record the baby's heartbeat."

For the second time, my bruised stomach was exposed, and Ellie positioned the monitor, fastening the belt. She connected a wire to the monitor and switched the machine on. It promptly started a needle into motion, which recorded the baby's heartbeat with each swipe across the thin paper it expelled. She watched the report for a few moments and gave me an encouraging grin. "We're still picking up a heartbeat, Beth."

"Good," I weakly said. I looked down at my stomach. Hang in there, Little One.

"Just relax," she advised me before she headed for the door. "Buzz if you need anything."

Alone with my husband again, I leaned my head against him and closed my eyes. Al traced affectionate circles on my arm. "I want you to take a leave until the baby's born," he said. "When they let you out, I want you to take it easy, okay?"

"Okay." I kept my eyes shut, comforted by the warmth of his body against mine. When I heard footsteps entering the room, I assumed it was Dr. Winter, but the sudden halt to Al's caresses and the way he stiffened told me it was Fred Keller even before the man spoke.

"How are we doing, Beth?" he asked. I opened my eyes, but Al answered before I could say anything.

"How dare you!" Al eased me out of his embrace and stood, his eyes smoldering. "How dare you come in here and ask how she's doing! She wouldn't even be in here if it hadn't been for you!" He took a few menacing steps toward Dr. Keller. "What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking sending her down there?"

Dr. Keller's jaw dropped and he blinked quickly as he tried to come up with words. "Commander Calavicci, I certainly didn't think she'd be in any danger!" He turned to me, "Beth, believe me, I wouldn't have had you fill in if I thought—"

"No," Al cut him off with a slashing gesture of his hand. "Don't you talk to her! I don't want you saying one word to her. You have no right to speak to my wife. I can't believe you! You had no business sending a pregnant woman to the ER! The stress alone…" He broke off and shook his head, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerous in its quiet intensity and he punctuated his words with a pointing finger jabbing in the doctor's direction. "Take a look—take a good look at what you caused. I hope you know a good lawyer, Keller, because if we lose the baby, I plan on suing your ass for every cent you have and making certain you never practice medicine again."

An ice cold dagger stabbed through me as Al articulated the terror that had consumed my mind since the moment the drug-addict's boot-clad foot had impacted with my stomach for the first time and sent me tumbling to the floor. If we lose the baby... I bit my lip, ignoring the pain as my teeth made contact with the raw injury; so much more painful was the memory of the subsequent kicks I'd taken as the addict's deluded anger focused in on me. Anguish swiftly built up inside of me until I couldn't contain it anymore, and I dissolved into wracking sobs.

Suddenly realizing the impact of his words, Al gasped and hurried to me, frantically saying, "No, no, no. I'm sorry, Beth. Forget I said that, honey." He wiped ineffectually at my tears as he twisted around to glare at Dr. Keller and issue a final threat, "Don't think I'm not taking this to your superiors." Returning his attention to me, Al smoothed my hair away from my face and bent to kiss a wet cheek. "Everything's gonna be fine, angel."

Thick tears filled my eyes and I clung blindly to his arm, my face crumpled in despair. "W-what…..w-what if I lose our b-baby?"

"Shhh, that's not going to happen, Beth."

The commotion must have caught Dr. Winter's attention, because she came in and started scolding.

"Commander Calavicci, I thought you said you were going to keep your wife calm!"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I just lost it when this nozzle came in the room!"

Dr. Winter softly said, "Dr. Keller, I think it would be best if you left. With all due respect, I think the Calavicci's need some time alone to deal with this." He started to protest and apologize again, but she cut him off. "Fred, please. Just leave." I heard his footsteps retreating, and then Dr. Winter approached the bed, and sternly asked, "Al, do you understand how imperative it is that Beth stays calm?"

Al hadn't stopped wiping tears from my cheeks as quickly as they were shed. "I know, Doctor. I'm sorry."

"Apologizing isn't enough. Look at how distraught she is. Do you think that's helping the baby any?" She walked over to the monitor and checked the printouts, clucking her tongue thoughtfully. "Don't make me have to ask you to leave as well."

"No!" I stretched my arms in front of Al's lap as if to hold him in place and looked pleadingly at Dr. Winter. "Please…I need him here."

"Then you need to settle down, Beth! I don't want to sedate you."

Al looked into my eyes, capturing my attention. "Forget what I said, honey. I wasn't thinking. Please stop crying. C'mon, it's gonna be all right. Hush now. Look in my eyes and listen to my voice, okay? That's right…just keep looking at me. Now, take a deep breath." He breathed in, and I instinctively followed suit, connecting with him visually and emotionally. I shakily exhaled a moment after he did, and Al nodded encouragingly. "That was good, that was real good, baby. Let's do that again." He modeled the deep breath again, and I again followed along, my exhale catching up with his. The third time he led me in the breathing, I was in perfect sync with him. He continued like that for several minutes, until my tears had dried up and I closed my eyes briefly from emotional exhaustion.

Dr. Winter's voice had approval in it, "Well done, Al. I take it back." He stood to allow her access to me, and she placed the cold metal of her stethoscope against my chest. "Much better, Beth," she nodded as she checked my vitals. Removing the stethoscope and draping it around her neck, she patted my shoulder and said, "Hang in there. If we can make it through the next few hours, you can go home on bed rest. Now I'll leave you two alone for a while." She arose and gestured for Al to resume his place on the edge of the bed. After he sat and took my hand in his again, Dr. Winter nodded her sanction and left.

"Oh, my sweet Beth," Al said, tenderly tracing a finger along my chin and frowning as he avoided the swelling and bruising from the cut on my lips. I took his hand and gingerly placed it on a relatively unbruised section of my stomach. He immediately started to lift it, but I shook my head and held it in place.

"It doesn't hurt too badly in this spot. And I think our Little One needs to feel that you're here."

Al nodded and gently rubbed his thumb back and forth on my tummy. "Daddy's right here."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Al, do you think it's a boy this time?"

"It's certainly strong enough to be one. Your stomach, Beth…" He trailed off, and I opened my eyes to see a bright sheen glistening in his. Al shook his head and forced a smile. "Everything's going to be fine, honey. You'll see."

"A boy would be nice, wouldn't it?" I smiled. "I guess we should start considering names."

Al's eyes flicked to the fetal monitor and back, and I knew what he was thinking. We might be picking a name only to have it carved on a tiny tombstone. The baby still hadn't moved, and it was only the strip of paper the monitor continually spat out that showed any signs of life. Al straightened and suddenly grinned at me.

"That's a good idea," he said, a little too brightly. "What were you leaning towards?"

I twiddled with his wedding ring. "Albert, Jr.?"

"I thought we had this conversation when you were pregnant with the twins. Calavicci's a mouthful enough without tacking a 'junior' on the end of it." Al winked at me, and I laughed. "What about Brian?" he asked.

"Mmm, not bad. But didn't the Taylor's just have a Brian?"

"Oh. Yeah, they did." His thumb stroked gentle circles on my stomach again.

"We could name him after your Dad," I suggested.

Al smiled at me. "That's sweet, Beth, but I think Gino would get him beat up on the playground nowadays. Sounds too much like Gina."

"Not if we anglicized it. We could name him John."

"John Calavicci." Al tried it out and cocked his head approvingly. "Not bad. But we'll have to honor both sides, you know. So he should have your father's name as a middle name."

"John Peter Calavicci." I smiled, "I like it."

"Okay, John Peter," Al said to my belly, "hang in there, buddy."

"He's going to make it, isn't he, Al?"

"I hope so." The sheen was back in his eyes.

We were both startled by a sudden surge in activity on the fetal monitor, and a split second later the pain of a contraction seized me. Al moved his hand from my stomach to caress my forehead while I clenched his other one.

"That's three contractions now," I panted as it subsided and I released my grip on his hand. "Al, I'm scared."

He stroked his thumb across my eyebrow. "I know, honey. I am, too."

"Al, if I ask you to do something, will you do it for me?"

His stopped his caresses and looked intently at me. "What is it?"

"It would mean a lot to me—and I'd feel better if you, uh…"

"What, my love?"

My cheek twitched as I prepared to ask something of him that I knew would be tough. No. Worse than tough. Painful. "Would you be willing to go to the chapel and pray for our baby?"

Al froze. "Beth, you know what happened with my father. I wouldn't be speaking to God at all now if He hadn't come through in the end by letting me come home to you. But the chapel…"

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, baby—maybe too much. If I could, I would go myself, hon. I know it's foolish to think so, but it just seems like prayers are heard better there. And you know how it comforts me." I touched his elbow. "If you went for me, it would be like I was there."

"You said you didn't want me to leave your side not ten minutes ago."

"This is different, Al. Please."

His brown eyes held mine in a penetrating gaze. Finally, he gave me a small smile and sighed in defeat, "I can see it means that much to you. I'll do it for you…on one condition. You take a catnap while I'm gone."

"I'll try."

Al nodded. He patted my hand and rose to leave, but hesitated when someone knocked lightly on the open hospital door. Sally and Rick Williams stood in the doorway. Sally herself was five months pregnant, and she was trying to keep her expression serene in the face of my injuries.

"I heard what happened on the scanner and I called in for more information," Rick explained. "I was just coming off my shift and I went straight to get Sally. I knew she'd want to see you, Beth."

"Thanks for coming," I said. "It means a lot."

"What's going on?" he asked, noting the way Al was bouncing on his toes.

"Al was just about to go to the chapel for me."

Al glanced at me, then looked back at Rick and Sally and nodded.

"I'll go with you," offered Rick. I wasn't sure if that made it easier for Al or not, but he thanked Rick, and they exited together.

As soon as our two uniformed husbands left (mine in naval khaki, Sally's in police blue), Sally rushed to my side. "Is everything okay with the baby, Beth?"

"We hope so," I said, not wanting to upset her or myself by getting fully into the details. She seemed to understand and perched lightly on the edge of my bed, brushing my hair off my face.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. She gave the impression she was desperate to be of help, so I asked for a glass of water. Her hands shook slightly as she poured it and passed the cup to me.

"Thanks," I smiled before taking a sip.

"What did they tell you?"

"If the contractions stop within a few hours, I can go home on bed rest. Otherwise, I'll have to stay here."

"Oh, Beth. I'm sorry."

I took another sip of water to force down the lump that formed in my throat; I didn't want to start crying again. "How are you doing?" I asked, gently patting Sally's bump to change the subject.

"I thought morning sickness was only supposed to last a few months. Not only is it still happening, it's not limited to the mornings," she groaned.

I grimaced sympathetically. "Mine lasted six months for the twins. Felt like forever."

"Maybe I'll get a reprieve next month then," she said hopefully. "You haven't had it bad this time, have you?"

Shaking my head, I said, "No, just the first couple of months. This pregnancy's been a breeze…up til now."

Sally didn't know what to say. She just smiled weakly and reached for my hand. "I guess Rick and Al are probably praying in the chapel by now. We can pray, too, if you want."

I just nodded and smiled gratefully at her, my eyes filling with tears.

Holding my hand in one of hers and resting the other on my hip, Sally bowed her head and started praying aloud. In my mind, I just kept desperately repeating pleas for the baby to make it, while tears slid silently down my cheeks. After a while, Sally quietly said, "Amen," and I echoed, opening my eyes to see a few tears falling from hers. She smiled and scrubbed them away.

"She's going to make it, Beth."

I grinned at her. "She?"

"Or he." Sally chuckled. "I'm so used to seeing you with the twins. As a matter of fact, I'm hoping I'm having a girl." She rubbed her own belly.

"What about Rick?"

"He says he doesn't care so long as it's healthy, but I think deep down he's hoping for a boy. Doesn't every man?"

"I—I guess they do," I said, my thoughts going to Al and the memory of his face as he'd held Bridget for the first time in the delivery room. He'd bonded instantly with her, been smitten by her innocent angelic beauty. I knew it had been the same moments later with Michele. What would his face show when he held his son in his arms?

Sally suddenly closed her eyes and screwed up her face, her hand going to her mouth. "Beth…I'm sorry…I…" She broke off and dashed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Faintly, I could hear her gagging and retching.

I gingerly rubbed my belly and murmured to the baby. "Are you okay in there, John?" I pictured Al roughhousing with our son, teaching him to play baseball, and the thought made me smile. I rubbed my temple and hesitated, pondering what Sally had said. Was it a boy? Or were we having another girl?

If it is another girl—will Al be disappointed? Like Rick, Al insisted he only cared that the baby was healthy. But I wondered…did he secretly hope for a son? I sighed, acknowledging that if our Little One made it that would fulfill our hopes enough. Yes, a healthy baby was all I was concerned about. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my womb, desperate to feel even a flutter of movement.

Please, God...let our baby make it.

Sally finally emerged from the bathroom after a long time, her face both flushed and pale. Despite the seriousness of the reason I was in the hospital, we both had to laugh somewhat at how we were both feeling poorly. Rather than trying to make small talk neither of us were really interested in or up to, I suggested we turn the TV on and catch up with Phil Donahue. Apparently not having conquered her nausea, Sally agreed, commenting that Phil wouldn't be offended if she had to interrupt him by running to the bathroom to throw up.

She'd had to make just such a dash shortly before Al and Rick returned from the chapel some time later. Rick excused himself briefly to check on her and Al gently teased me about not holding up my end of the bargain by napping.

"I had company," I protested with a grin.

Al laughed and made me promise to take that nap as soon as Rick and Sally left. As I had before, I told him I would try. He settled into the chair beside the bed and took my hand, his face twisting at the sounds of Sally throwing up. "I'm glad those days are behind us," he said.

"Yeah, for all the help you were," I grinned. "Rick's in there with her."

"I could've gone in with you, too," Al shot back, "if you wanted me to join you in puking."

I giggled, the giggle quickly shifting into a gasp as yet another contraction suddenly took hold. Al gripped my hands and whispered, "Hang on to me, honey."

I did, my nails digging into his right hand and drawing blood. When the pain passed, I lifted his hand and saw the damage I'd inflicted. "Oh! I'm sorry, Al."

"It's okay," he said, kissing my cheek. He winked and then tilted the back of his hand toward Rick, who'd finally come out of the bathroom with Sally during my contraction. "See what you have to look forward to, pal?"

I swatted him, his teasing distracting me slightly from my fear. Undoubtedly, that was what he had intended.

"Spousal abuse," Al declared. "You see how she treats me?"

"And I'm sure you deserve every bit of it," Sally grinned, bravely trying to hide how witnessing my preterm contraction had shaken her.

Donahue came to an end and the evening news started. My eyes widened at the time. "The twins," I said.

"What is it, honey?"

"I usually pick up the twins about now."

Al sat up straighter at the realization as well. "How late does the daycare stay open?"

"Six-thirty."

He looked at his watch and rubbed his neck as he thought aloud. "If I stay here with you until six-fifteen, I can just make it to the daycare. If – I mean, when they release you tonight, I'll come back with the girls and get you."

I looked over Al's head at Rick and Sally and shook my head slightly. At the rate my contractions were going, the chances of my getting to go home tonight were slipping. Al didn't need the added stress of corralling the twins combined with his worry for me and our baby. Rick nodded and Sally mouthed, "Way ahead of you."

"Al, why don't you let us watch the girls tonight? Whether Beth gets to come home or not," she said.

He considered her offer, and I could tell he wanted to stay with me. "What do you think, honey?" he asked, leaving the decision to me—giving me the chance to give the answer I knew to be best.

"I think it's a good idea, baby. If I do get to come home tonight, I won't be much help to you on bed rest. Thank you, Sally."

She and Rick both assured us it was not a problem, and Al quickly wrote out a note authorizing the nursery school to release the girls to them for the evening.

"Thanks," he told them, handing Rick the page.

Rick folded the note and tucked it in his shirt pocket. He and Sally stopped at my bedside, and each took one of my hands. "We'll be praying," Rick assured me. He turned to Al, "Keep us posted. We'll watch Bridget and Michele as long as you need us to."

"It'll be good practice," smiled Sally.

They left after exchanging goodbyes with us. Once we were alone Al fondled my cheek. "I love you, baby."

I grabbed his hand and gently pulled it to my mouth, kissing the palm of his hand, wincing only slightly as I strained my injured lip. "I love you, too," I told him.

He cupped his hand to the side of my face and caressed the skin with his thumb, bending to apply a line of light kisses across my forehead. "Rick and Sally are gone now," he prompted.

I cocked my head to the side. "You're seriously going to make me take a nap?"

"Just call me the Sandman. Besides, I told Dr. Winter I'd keep you calm and relaxed."

"I doubt that's what she had in mind."

"Doubt that what's what who had in mind?" Dr. Winter asked, entering the room to check on me again. She headed directly for the monitor, and sighed as she saw the evidence of the two additional contractions I'd had since she'd last examined me. She checked her wristwatch and shook her head, opening her mouth to say something. Whatever it was she was about to say was cut off by another contraction that had me grabbing on to Al's wrist and squeezing so hard a small squeak of pain escaped him.

"Sorry," I ground out through gritted teeth.

"Don't apologize, baby. Just hold onto me." He was caressing the back of my head as I groaned and panted.

"That was number five?" Dr. Winter asked when my body relaxed again. At my affirmative nod, she made a notation in my chart. Finished writing, she looked up at us. "The baby doesn't appear to be in distress, and so far the contractions are irregular. That's the good news."

"And the bad news?" Al slowly asked.

She smiled wistfully. "We're looking at five contractions in under three hours. Three more within an hour and I have no choice but to keep you here for the night. Have you felt any movement yet?"

I felt my lower lip start trembling as I told her no. I breathed deeply and shakily through my nose to hold the flood back. Al stroked my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles one by one.

Dr. Winter sighed. "I'd like to go ahead and admit you now, Beth, for a number of reasons. If the baby does start having problems, you'll be right here for a Caesarean. It's getting late in the evening, too, and I'd like you to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," I quietly said.

"Well, you don't have to eat right at this moment, but I do want you to have a light supper."

"I'm trying to convince her to get a little sleep, Dr. Winter," Al put in. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"That's probably a good idea," she said. "The added relaxation certainly can't hurt, and your mind could use a break from worrying."

"I'll stop worrying when I feel my baby move!" A slight tremor moved through me.

Dr. Winter pursed her lips sympathetically. "I understand, Beth. But you have to understand, you need to stay as relaxed as you can. I've already told you I don't want to sedate you, but I will if I think you're getting too keyed up. Stress, anxiety, worry—none of that is good for the baby, especially right now." She looked at her watch again. "Try to get some rest, and in a couple of hours, your dinner should be here. Okay?"

I exhaled in annoyance. "Okay."

"All right then. I'll check on you around 7:30."

Al switched off the TV and began massaging feather-light strokes across my brow. He spoke in a soft, even voice that became hypnotic, "Go to sleep, sweetheart. Just relax. That's it…relax. No, don't fight it, honey. Close your eyes. Things'll be better when you wake up, I promise. That's right, Beth. Just let go. Just…let…go…"

His tone in combination with the steady pattern of caresses on my forehead was wining despite my stubborn attempts to remain alert and intent on my own condition. My lids slid heavily downward and I felt my body starting to unwind from the tight coil of tension it had been in for the last few hours. My breathing slowed, slowed and steadied, and the last thing I was aware of was Al's continued mantra, "That's it, baby. Just a little sleep. That's right. Just…relax."

I squinted and groaned as a bright light flashed in my eyes. Rather, I tried to squint—a difficult task as someone was holding my eyelid open. Mercifully the light was taken away and my lid was released. I blinked and looked blearily into Dr. Winter's face.

"Ah, you're awake," she said. She worried her lip between her teeth and glanced over her shoulder.

"I'm still not hungry," I mumbled, aware at some level that my words were slurring.

"I'm not here to make you eat anything, Beth."

"Good." I crinkled my forehead. "Everything feels fuzzy."

"That's the anesthesia," she said.

"Anesthesia?" I tried to sit up but couldn't summon up enough energy. I fell back against the pillows and stared at her. "What happened?"

She didn't answer me right away. I turned my head to the side, searching for Al. He was crumpled in the chair near the bed, tearstains on his despondent face. Instantly, my hands flew to my abdomen and the absence of the fetal monitor. I patted my stomach frantically, feeling the reduction in its size. A chill gripped my spine and I found it hard to breathe.

"What happened?" I asked again, panic coating my tone.

"Beth, while you were asleep, your blood pressure suddenly dropped and the baby's heart rate plummeted. We did a C-section, hoping to save the baby." Dr. Winter stopped and lowered her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Beth. He didn't make it."

"No," I whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my hands to my temples. "No, that can't be!"

Al slowly dragged himself from the chair, visibly trying to set aside his own grief in order to comfort me. He inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, but his voice was still thick when he spoke. "Beth, honey, I'm sorry. Oh, God, I wish it wasn't, but it's true." He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at me with eyes that were soft and full of despair. I turned my face away as sobs took hold of me, my lungs spasming as the power of my sorrow threatened to turn into hyperventilating.

I felt the mattress shift as Al sat down next to me and took my shoulders in his hands. After a moment, he lifted me into an embrace and held me tightly to him, cupping the back of my head in his hand.

"I know it hurts, angel. I know." His voice cracked on the last words, and I felt his upper body quiver as he started crying.

"No. No! No!" The last one came out as a scream, and once I started screaming, I couldn't stop.

"Beth! Baby, it's okay. Hush, hush. Shhh, Beth, wake up, sweetheart!" I felt Al's hands on my face. "Baby, it's me. It's Al. Honey, open your eyes and look at me."

A final shriek escaped me and my eyes popped open. Al's face was inches away from mine, fear—and only fear—coloring his gaze. I touched his cheek, stunned to feel dryness.

"You were having a nightmare."

I didn't believe him until I felt the hard swell of my pregnancy, my fingers brushing the belt of the fetal monitor, its record still steadily printing from the machine. I sagged in relief.

"I thought I'd lost the baby."

"Oh, honey!" He kissed my cheek. "No, it was just a bad dream, just a horrible dream."

A sudden flurry of squeaking shoes on the linoleum floor alerted us to the approach of Ellie and another nurse, who'd heard my screams.

"She had a bad dream, that's all," Al informed them. "She'll be okay in a moment."

Still, Ellie checked the printout to be sure before they left.

"Don't make me go back to sleep," I groaned, rubbing my face. "I'm better off awake and worrying than having dreams like that."

"Okay, baby, I won't," he agreed. He gingerly stroked my belly, his fingertips just barely making contact with the bruised skin. "If I ever get my hands on the creep who did this to you…"

"You'll end up in jail yourself," I finished. "So don't go looking for him. I want you more than I want vengeance, got it?"

He smiled and half-chuckled to himself. "Got it." Al bent to kiss me, remembering about my wounded mouth at the last instant, and diverting his kiss to my cheek. "Sarà tutto il di destra. Lascerò il Dio prendere la cura della vendetta."

"What did you say?" One of these days I needed to take an Italian class.

Al stroked my cheeks and said, "Everything's going to be fine."

The evening stretched out much like that. We tried talking about the twins, about current events, about the possibilities for a transfer in the next year or so. None of those various avenues of conversation led far away from the crisis at hand, and after veering back to concern and fear, each one ended with Al's assurances that things would turn out fine in the end. Yet, even though he hadn't asked me for the details of my nightmare, both of us worried that it could prove to be a prediction.

The light supper of soup and crackers that Dr. Winter had ordered arrived. They elevated the head of the bed so it was more conducive to eating, but my position propped up on one side and recumbent made it difficult for me to handle the spoon without ending up with more broth on my hospital gown than in my mouth, so Al insisted on feeding me. Somehow, even in these circumstances, he managed to lend an air of romance to it.

My ill-fated nap had run its course without being interrupted by a contraction, and no muscle spasms disrupted dinner. Thinking that maybe the worst was behind us, Al took a brief leave of me to grab a bite to eat for himself. He also planned on calling Rick and Sally to check on the girls. Dr. Winter arrived to check on me after he left. She smiled, having run into Al in the hallway. He'd updated her on the lack of contractions.

"Your stay may just be a formality, Beth," she told me, pausing to check the monitor before preparing to do a pelvic exam. "I just want to be certain you're still not bleeding or dilating."

"Well?" I asked when she finished.

She stripped the gloves from her hands, threw them away, and washed her hands again before sitting in the chair beside my bed.

"Everything looks normal."

I blew out a relieved breath, only to suck it in again when a sudden contraction seized me. The fetal monitor scrawled its activity in rapid pace. I scrunched the sheets in my hand and pounded the mattress in frustration.

Dr. Winter sighed. "I guess I spoke too soon."

"I guess you did," I snapped, then immediately apologized.

She smiled and shook her head, "It's okay, Beth." She picked up my chart and made some notes in it, rereading what she'd written earlier and what the attending doctors before her had notated. "That was a nice long span between contractions, though. We'll see how things go overnight."

I had to ask. "Dr. Winter, if you did have to do a C-section…what would my baby's chances be?"

"There are a lot of factors involved."

"Bottom line," I insisted.

Her mouth twisted. "Bottom line—it would be best for the baby if we were closer to your due date. The longer your little bun can stay in the oven, the better its chances are."

"But if you did have to take him—it early."

"I couldn't guarantee anything."

I nodded and she touched my shoulder.

"Beth, you know full well there aren't any guarantees in medicine. If you were full-term right now and in normal labor I still couldn't guarantee you a healthy baby."

"But his chances would be better."

"Yes. They would. Immeasurably better."

My lips tightened and I felt my eyes grow steely. "I want to press charges."

It took her a minute to comprehend my statement. "Press charges?"

"I want that son of a bitch to pay for what he did to me!"

I don't think Karen Winter had ever heard such a harsh tone from my lips before. She'd certainly never heard such language from me, even in the throes of delivering twins. Her eyes widened and she literally leaned back from my anger.

"The hospital is pressing charges against him," she assured me.

"That's good. I want to as well!"

"I'll personally call the police for you to set it up. Tomorrow."

"Tonight."

Dr. Winter stood and regarded me with her eyebrows raised. "Tomorrow," she enunciated. "As your physician, I flatly refuse to allow it tonight—too much strain."

I smacked the mattress. "You don't understand! I need to do something!"

"Yes, you do. You need to relax and focus on…"

"Oh don't give me that!" I shouted. "If I hear that I need to relax one more time, I'll scream! The last time I took that advice, I had a nightmare about losing my baby!"

"That's it. I'm going to sedate you."

"No!"

"Beth, you're not giving me any choice!"

I closed my eyes momentarily and breathed deeply. "Isn't that dangerous for the baby?" I challenged.

"Not as dangerous as your emotional state right now. If I took your blood pressure this minute, I know I wouldn't like what I'd see."

My chest heaved and tears escaped from the corners of my eyes. Dr. Winter shook her head. "I'm sorry, Beth. I don't have a choice."

"Don't have a choice about what?" Al had returned, and was looking bewildered at seeing me upset and crying. "What's going on?"

"She wants to sedate me!" I cried, pleading for his intervention with my eyes.

"Is that wise?" Al asked Dr. Winter.

In response, she asked to speak to him in the hallway. I strained to listen to their hushed voices, but couldn't make out their words. Desperately, I tried to calm myself down in order to make a case for being left alone, but the more attempts I made it seemed the harder I cried. I wiped at my eyes when they came back in and took a shaky breath, vainly trying to appear calm.

Al sat in the chair and took my hand. "Baby, listen to me. Dr. Winter's going to check your blood pressure, and if it's elevated…I told her to go ahead and sedate you."

I started to pull my hand away from his, but he held firm. "Traitor."

"Yes, I am." His eyes misted over. "I'm sorry, honey. But she's right. This isn't good for the baby, or for you."

"Let's just see what your blood pressure is," interjected Dr. Winter. She retrieved the cuff from its place above the bed and fastened it around my arm. Placing the stethoscope against the crook of my arm, she pumped the small bulb until the cuff was uncomfortably tight, listened, checked the dial, and frowned. She released the tension on the cuff and removed it after it deflated with a soft hiss.

"One-thirty-five over eighty-two. That's too high, Beth."

I turned my head away from them both, tugging firmly until Al released my hand. I knew I had no one to blame but myself for getting worked up, but I wanted to blame someone else.

"It's a very mild sedative," said Dr. Winter, trying to soften things. I refused to acknowledge her. She sighed and told Al, "Ellie will be in to administer it in just a moment." I heard her leave. Still, I kept my face averted. About a minute or two later, Ellie came in and injected something into the IV line. She whispered to Al, and then left.

Al exhaled through his nose, the soft force whistling slightly. "You can hate me if you want," he said, "but I only agreed to it because I love you."

I sighed and looked at him, finally. "I don't hate you."

"But you are angry with me." It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm angry with myself. I'm angry at the man who kicked me." I touched his hand. "But I'm not angry with you, not really. You were just a convenient target."

He nodded, understanding. For the umpteenth time he said, "It's going to be all right, Beth, really it is."

"I know." The sedative was kicking in now, and I felt myself starting to melt into the pillows. My lids grew heavy and I struggled to look at him. "I love you," I slurred as dark sleep beckoned.

His expression was soft and he touched my face. "I love you more," he said. His tender smile was the last thing I saw.