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Chapter 37 - Happiness


 


Part 4

 

February 13, 2003

 

“Hi, Jim!  Come on in.”  Trixie waved him into the living room and shut the door behind him.

 

“You have such a beautiful glow, Trixie,” Jim teased.  “Are you, by chance, pregnant?”

 

Trixie grinned like a child with a secret.  “Not for much longer!”

 

Jim paused right in the middle of taking his coat off.  “What?”

 

“I went into labor this afternoon … aiee!” she concluded with an excited shriek.

 

Jim’s gaze darted around the living room.  “Where’s Dan?”

 

“In the shower.  He worked overtime last night—or this morning, I guess.  He just woke up a little while ago.  Don’t worry, he’s still up for tonight.”

 

“But don’t you have to go to the hospital?”  He stood with his coat still hanging off his shoulders, looking certain he’d have to put it back on and rush her out the door.

 

“No, silly.  This is latent labor.  It can last for hours.  If I went to the hospital now, they’d just send me back home.”

 

Jim relaxed and grinned at her as he shed his coat and laid it over the chair by the front door.  “Well, look at you.  Suddenly, you’re an expert.”

 

Trixie giggled. “Okay, so Dan’s obsession with the book finally came in handy.”

 

“So how long have you been in this … latent labor?”

“Oh, I don’t know, an hour or two.  It can last ten or more hours, Dr. Madison said, especially with first-time mothers.”

 

“And Dan just woke up?  You didn’t wake him up and tell him?”

 

“No.”  She looked abashed.  “He was a little bit mad about that.  But I assured him I was fine and reminded him about the movie.  That calmed him down.”

 

“We’re not still going?” Jim asked in shock.

 

“Sure we are.  I told you I can’t go to the hospital this early.  We’ll get dinner and as long as nothing changes, we’ll go to the movie.  It’s one of Dan’s favorites and The Cameo only shows it one weekend a year.  We’ll be close to the hospital and it’ll distract Dan.  And since he won’t be able to read that stupid book in the dark theater, he won’t be driving me crazy.”

 

 

 

 

 

On Valentine’s Day weekend, The Cameo offered one showing each night of The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre for those not in the mood for the sappiness of a newly released romantic comedy or the classic sob-fest of A Love Story.

 

It wasn’t a great movie but the atmosphere at the Sleepyside theater was always pleasant and watching a cheesy “B” movie with two of her favorite men in the world was relaxing.

 

At least it usually was.

 

The original seating arrangement had Jim on the aisle next to Trixie with Dan on her other side.  The first time Trixie got up, however, both men leaped to their feet, earning growls of discontent from the people seated behind them.

 

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” Trixie hissed.  “Sit down.  I’m fine.”

 

When she returned, Jim was in Dan’s seat, Dan was in Trixie’s seat, and the aisle seat was left open.

 

Trixie put her hands on her hips and whispered loudly, “What’s going on?”

 

Dan ignored the shushes from the row behind them and whispered, “In case you need to get up again.”

 

“You sit on the aisle,” Trixie returned.  “Two guys sitting next to each other with a pregnant woman looks weird.”

 

Dan and Jim looked skeptically at each other and then at Trixie, who crossed her arms across her chest and silently made it clear that a woman in labor was not to be trifled with.  Dan moved to the aisle seat.

 

Every fifteen or twenty minutes Trixie clambered awkwardly across Dan’s lap, either to use the restroom or to walk off a particularly uncomfortable contraction.  Each time she had to tell Dan she was fine and that he should, “Just watch the movie and enjoy yourself, for crying out loud.”  The movie was nearing its climax before he finally settled down and was able to give Trixie only a quick glance when she returned from her latest trek up the aisle.

 

She tried to get comfy in the too-small seat but it wasn’t easy.  She was hungry but knew she should eat lightly at this point and she couldn’t think of anything behind the concession stand that would be considered “light”.

 

“Mmm...”  A frown creased her forehead.  “Oh.  Oh.  Dan?”

 

“Shh...” he scolded gently.

 

“Dan, I think it’s time,” she murmured under her breath.  She stared at the napkins in her hand, wondering how awkward and obvious it would be if she stuffed them down her rapidly dampening pants.

 

“Time for what?”

 

She moaned and he handed her what was left of his popcorn.

 

She pushed the container back toward him.  “I don’t want your popcorn.”  When he didn’t respond, she prompted, “Dan?”

 

“What?” he hissed in a slightly irritated tone.

 

“We need to go now,” she said, stressing each word carefully in the hopes that he’d catch on.

 

“Aw, Trix, this is the best part.  Can’t I get you Jujubes and nachos after the movie?”

 

“Hey, Dan?”

 

It was Jim this time and Trixie impulsively grabbed his hand as he reached across her to snag Dan’s attention.

 

Dan finally wrenched his eyes away from the big screen to find his wife clutching Jim’s hand in a death grip, her other hand fisted against her mouth trying to keep quiet.

 

Dan leaped out of his seat and shouted hoarsely, “It’s time?”

 

“Shh!!!”

 

Dan ignored the annoyed patrons of The Cameo and bounded up the aisle, calling out over his shoulder, “I’ll get the car!”

 

“Shh!!!”

 

“Shouldn’t I get the car so he can stay here with you?” Jim asked, rising out of his seat.

 

“Sit down,” hissed the couple behind them.

 

“Let him go,” Trixie groaned.  “He’s halfway to the parking lot by now.  Just get me out of here.”

 

Jim helped her out of her seat and up the aisle, one arm protectively around her waist while he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone.  “Should I call your mom?  Or maybe Honey?”

 

“Not yet.  Let’s get to the hospital first, get me checked in and settled in my room.”

 

In the lobby, Jim helped her get her coat on.  He put his on and held onto Dan’s, as his friend had bolted so quickly he had forgotten it.  As they came out of The Cameo onto Main Street, Jim’s gaze darted up and down the lamplit street.  “Where is he?”

 

“He’ll be—”

 

Trixie’s response was cut off by the squeal of tires as a black pick-up truck barreled around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of the theater.


“He’s here,” Trixie finished.

 

Dan threw the truck into Park, leaped out of the driver’s seat, and slipped and slid his way around to the sidewalk.  “Are you sure it’s time?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.  My water just broke.”

 

Dan and Jim both instinctively took a step back and looked down, as if expecting to see the Hudson River flooding over the sidewalk.

 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Trixie grumbled.  “Let’s go to the hospital.  We can call Dr. Madison on the way.”

 

“But … but … she said to wait until you started the active phase of Stage 1 labor,” Dan recited as he boosted Trixie up into the passenger seat. “Until the contractions are regular and less than six minutes apart.”

 

“They’re regular, not too painful but coming about every five or six minutes, I think.”

 

“What?  You didn’t tell me?”

 

“You were watching the movie!  Anyway, they weren’t too bad until just a few minutes ago and they’re still not all that bad.  I wasn’t going to wait until the baby was crowning, for crying out loud!  And now I’m saying let’s go to the hospital.”

“Right, I gotta call the doctor,” Dan said.  He pulled out his cell phone and growled when it didn’t respond.  “Great.  My phone’s dead.”

“You turned it off before the movie started,” Trixie reminded him.

 

“Oh, yeah.  For a minute there, I thought I had your phone.”  He grinned at his scowling wife and leaned into the cab of the truck to give her a kiss.


“I’m about to give birth to our first child.  You really think you ought to be teasing me about my phone just now?”

 

“Dan, you call the hospital,” Jim said with a chuckle.  “I’ll drive.”

 

“You’ll drive?” Dan repeated in bewilderment.

 

“Sure.  You have to talk to the doctor and time Trixie’s contractions.  You know she can’t tell time.”

 

“Seriously?” Trixie complained.  “You’re both going to give me grief?  Now?”

 

“Sorry, babe,” Dan chuckled.

 

Jim winked at her and went around to the driver’s side.  “Do we need to go back by your house first?” he asked as he climbed in.

 

“Why?  What for?” Dan asked.  His voice was panicky, as if he was afraid he had forgotten a fundamental step in the birthing process.

 

“I don’t know.  Pick up a suitcase?”

 

Dan pushed out a sharp gasp of relief.  “It’s behind the seat.”

 

“Well, that was lucky,” Jim said.

 

Trixie snorted, scooching over to the middle of the seat so Dan could have some room next to her.  “It’s been there since October.”

 

“Well, it’s lucky you had Dan’s car and not yours, then,” Jim said, the twinkle in his green eyes belying his serious tone.

 

“No, there’s a duplicate in my car,” Trixie replied with a roll of her eyes.

 

Jim laughed and Dan shot him a disgruntled look.  “What’s so funny, Boy Scout?  You’re the one always telling us to be prepared.”

 

“You’re right, you’re right.”  Jim held up his hands in defeat before putting the truck into gear and taking a firm hold of the steering wheel.

 

After Dan got through to the hospital to alert them that they were on their way, he cradled Trixie as best he could in his arms and kept a close eye on his watch.  When the next contraction began he noted the time, gently rubbing Trixie’s stomach.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to do breathing exercises or something?” Jim asked, darting hasty glances at his friends from time to time as he cautiously negotiated the winter roads.

 

“Dr. Madison said not to start doing that too early,” Dan answered.  “We’ll get bored and unfocused too quickly.  Or Trixie will, anyway.”

 

“Enough with picking on me,” Trixie panted, nodding to let Dan know the contraction had passed.

 

“Honey yelled at me quite a bit when Matthew was coming.  I’m sure you’ll have time to get me back in the delivery room.”  He kissed her and added, “I’m just trying to help you relax.”

 

“I am relaxed.”

 

“You are?” Jim asked in surprise.  “You’re not afraid?  Honey was scared.”

 

“Honey was having a baby a month early in the middle of a thunderstorm and a blackout and she was all alone until Dan and India showed up,” Trixie reminded him.  “That would scare anybody.  I’m right on time and my husband and I are on our way to the hospital with the world’s safest driver chauffeuring us there.”

 

She noticed Jim’s glance shift to Dan, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.


“What?”


“Nothing.”

 

“No, tell me,” she insisted.

 

“I can’t pick on you.  You won’t have a chance to get back at me in the delivery room.”

 

Dan chuckled.  “I bet he was going to make a smart comment about the sheer miracle of you being right on time.”

 

“Ha-ha.  You two are a riot,” Trixie said dryly.  “You should take it on the road.”

 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” Jim asked, winking at her.

 

Trixie couldn’t help but giggle.  She was about to bring her child into the world and right now she was with the two men who made her feel most protected and secure.

 

No, she wasn’t afraid.

 

 

 

 

 

The trio moved quickly into the hospital, Trixie looking composed, Jim and Dan trying to look relaxed and assured but failing miserably.  Trixie took a seat in the wheelchair a helpful orderly brought up, giving him a smile of thanks.

 

Jim and Dan moved to the counter.  “She’s in labor,” Dan said hoarsely, pointing at Trixie who rolled her eyes in apology at the nurse.

 

“Okay, name?”

 

Several variations of Trixie’s name spilled out of both Dan’s and Jim’s mouths at the same time, Beatrixes and Trixies, Mangans and Belden-Mangans—even one Special Agent Mangan—overlapping each other in quick succession.

 

“Wait a minute,” the nurse interrupted.  “Which one’s the father?”

 

“He is,” Jim said, pointing to Dan.


“He’s not here,” Dan said at the same time.

 

“What?” Jim snapped.

 

Dan looked at Jim in bewilderment.  “Trixie’s dad’s not here.”

 

“She means you.  You’re the father,” Jim said, poking him in the chest.

 

Dan jerked his head toward the nurse, who nodded tolerantly and said, “I meant the father of the baby.”

 

“Oh.  That’s me.  I am.  I’m the father.  Me.”

 

“Mangan,” Jim offered helpfully.

 

“Daniel Mangan.”

 

“Dan.”

 

Trixie sighed heavily behind them.  “What is this?  I Love Lucy?  Hey, Ricky, Fred, can we get a grip, please?”

 

The nurse chuckled under her breath and directed her next question to Trixie.  “Who’s your OB?”

 

“Dr. Nora Madison.  We called about fifteen minutes ago to say we were on our way.”

 

“I’ll see if she’s available and in the meantime, we’ll get you settled in your room, Mrs. Mangan.”

 

“The doctor’s not here yet?” Dan asked in a worried tone.

 

“Dan, I have plenty of time.  It’s not like they were going hand us a baby as soon as we walked in.  It’s not a McDonald’s drive-thru.  Ooh, strawberry milkshake.”

 

Dan darted to her side.  “Do you want me to go get you a milkshake?”

 

“Um, no.  I don’t think I’m really allowed to have one.”  She patted his arm consolingly.  “But it was a very sweet thought, thank you.  One of you could go get my suitcase, though.”

 

Jim and Dan both shot out of the hospital lobby like a starting pistol had just gone off.

 

Trixie watched them over her shoulder, her mouth hung open in disbelief.  Turning back to the nurse, she muttered, “Are you kidding me?  Do they think this is a sitcom?”

 

The nurse smiled at her.  “It happens more often in real life than you might think.”  Turning to her clipboard, she asked casually, “So the handsome dark-haired man is your husband?”

 

“Yes,” Trixie replied absently, cradling her chin in one palm.  “Mangan, M-A-N-G-A-N.”

 

“And the handsome redhead is...?”

 

Trixie’s chin popped off her hand and she smiled brightly.  “Single.”

 

The nurse flushed and averted her eyes.  She was a pretty woman with chestnut hair in a pixie cut and light brown eyes.

 

“He’s a close family friend,” Trixie went on doggedly.  “His name is Jim and he’s really nice.  I’ll introduce you when they come back.”

 

Peering suspiciously over her shoulder, she added, “If they come back.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dan pushed open the hospital room door and peered in.  “Are you decent?” he asked in a quiet, teasing tone.

 

Trixie smiled and nodded.  “As decent as one can be in these stupid hospital gowns.”

 

He moved quickly to her side and took her hand, leaning over to kiss her cheek.  “I called your parents and Uncle Bill.  Jim is rounding up the rest of the cavalry.  I’m sorry I took so long.”

 

Trixie chuckled.  “I think you were gone ten minutes.  You missed one contraction.”

 

“Well, I didn’t want to miss any of them but since you didn’t wake me up this afternoon when you first started having them, I guess I can’t be upset now.  How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I really don’t want to be sitting in this bed.  Help me up?”  She held out her hands and Dan helped her get to her feet.


“Dr. Madison was called into an emergency c-section,” he said.  “She’ll be along as soon as she can to check up on you.”

 

“A resident was here while you were making calls.  He said I’m dilated four centimeters.”

 

“That’s not a lot, right?  You need to be dilated eight centimeters?  Or ten?  We brought the book, right?”  He dug into Trixie’s overnight bag looking for it.

 

“Of course we brought the book.  Have we gone anywhere without it the last nine months?”

 

Dan paused mid-search.  She sounded a little cranky.  He was supposed to be comforting and encouraging her, not irritating her.  He left the book in the bag and went back to support her as she paced the small room.

 

“Oh, oh, oh.”  She clawed the air seeking him and he put his hand in hers, wincing as she forcefully squeezed his fingers.

 

He quickly glanced at his watch and counted off the seconds as she breathed through the contraction.  She bent over slightly and he rubbed her lower back, wishing he could do more for her.

 

In just under a minute, she was breathing regularly again.  She straightened up and continued her pacing as if nothing had happened, though her face showed clear signs of distress.

 

“What can I do for you, baby?” he soothed, standing behind her when she stopped by the window.  He put his hands on her hips and massaged her lower back with his thumbs.

 

“You’re doing it,” she groaned.  “I just want you to be here.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”  He tried to remember some of the comfort measures the book mentioned.  “I could read to you,” he murmured.  “Best-Odds Diet recipes?”

 

Trixie laughed weakly.  “No, thank you.”

 

“We should’ve packed a book other than What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” he bemoaned.

 

“How about a classic?” came a quiet voice from the doorway. 

 

They both turned and saw Honey just inside the room with a gift basket in one hand.  “Can I come in?”

 

Dan glanced to Trixie to indicate it was completely her choice and she nodded and smiled at her best friend.  Honey had been through this before, albeit under very different circumstances, and other than her mother, Dan couldn’t imagine anyone who could be of more comfort to his wife.

 

“I brought Goodnight Moon,” Honey said as she came over and gave Trixie a gentle hug.  “It’s really for the baby, but I’ve always found it soothing.  Maybe Dan could read it to you in a little bit.”

 

“What else did you bring?” Trixie asked.  Dan noted that her voice sounded breathy and dull as if she was asking only to be polite and didn’t really care what else was in that basket.

 

“A little something from everybody.  I like it when Brian brushes my hair, so I brought you a hairbrush.  Some lollipops to keep your mouth moist and a few snacks for Dan—those are from Mart, of course.  Some lotions and oils if you want Dan to massage your back or legs.  Tad and Di bought a bottle of champagne and I already asked the nurse to keep it chilled for you guys.”

 

“And the books are from Jim?” Trixie asked with a smile.

 

Honey smiled back.  “Yes, Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“Is my mother here?”

 

“Yes, she’s in the waiting room with Matthew.  Celia’s going to come get him and he’ll stay the night at their house.”

 

“You guys don’t have to stay all night,” Dan interrupted. 

 

“Don’t be silly.  We’re staying until this baby is born,” Honey said with a determined glint in her eyes.  “You were there for me.  I’m staying for the two of you.”

 

 

 

 

 

February 14, 2003

 

It was several hours later when Dan emerged from Trixie’s room and shuffled the fifty yards or so down the hallway to the family waiting room.  It felt like fifty miles, he was so tired.  Trixie was still in labor and when her mother had come to visit, Trixie had growled at Dan to go away.  He was sure she didn’t mean for good—at least he hoped so—but when the resident came in to check on her, he decided to go update the family and give his wife a little space.

 

Despite Honey's earlier proclamation, he wasn’t sure who would still be waiting just before dawn and was surprised when he turned the corner into a fully occupied waiting room.

 

Honey, Diana, and Sally were on a couch, flipping through bridal magazines and occasionally making comments and suggestions to one another about Mart and Sally’s wedding coming that summer.  Brian was stretched out on another couch.  He looked like he was sleeping, and Dan was instantly envious, but he didn’t look fully relaxed, either.  It was the edgy sleep of an on-call resident.  Hallie leaned up against Simon as she dozed and Dan had to admit … they looked happy.  They looked right together.  He hoped it would work this time.  Mart was pacing, his freckled face pale and drawn as if he were vicariously suffering his almost twin’s agony.  Jim scrambled to his feet when he noticed Dan in the doorway.

 

“How’s it going?”

 

Seven pairs of eyes were now opened and focused on him.  Brian’s remained closed.

 

Dan scooped a hand through his hair and nodded wearily.  “Still at it.  Moms is with her now.  She told me I should maybe try to get a little shut-eye but…”  He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders.  “I want to go back in.”

 

Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.  “Trixie’s dad went home to get some of that sleep.  He has a meeting this morning he can’t miss but he made us promise to call him the minute Trixie started pushing.  Regan left about an hour ago to tend to the horses.  He said he’d be back as soon as he could.  I got the distinct impression that he just might be tempted to give less than a hundred and ten percent at the stables ... just this once.”  He grinned and concluded,  "Tad and Bobby were getting a little slap happy from lack of sleep.  They were annoying the nurses so I sent them to your place to feed Penny and let her out.”

 

“I can’t believe the rest of you are still here,” Dan mumbled, both in amazement at their endurance and in thankfulness for their friendship.

 

“I called Caroline last night,” Jim said, referring to his personal secretary at the Winthrop School for Boys.  “She’ll arrange for substitutes for Sally, Mart, and Hallie and cancel all my appointments.”

 

“And I think my boss will understand,” Honey said in a joking tone, her boss also being her father.  “They’ve called a couple of times to get updates.”

 

Dan’s gaze swept the room, coming to rest on Simon, who shrugged and grinned.  “I’m the teacher’s pet.  They’ll let me off for the day.  And Brian’s doing first-hand research for his pediatric residency.”

 

Everybody laughed as Brian emitted a half-grunt half-snore at the sound of his name but continued sleeping.

 

“You guys are the best.  Thanks.”


Diana inclined her head and Dan turned to see who she was indicating.  It was Dr. Thomas, the resident who had been checking on Trixie throughout the night.

 

“Everything’s fine,” he told Dan.  “She should be ready to push in the next hour, maybe sooner.”

 

“Transitional labor,” Dan muttered.  “It’s bad, right?  Somebody told me it’s really bad.”

 

“Exhausting and demanding” the book had said, but those weren’t the words one of Trixie’s Lucy friends had used.  She had said, “Transition SUCKS.”

 

Dr. Thomas chuckled.  “It’s pretty rough.  You’d better get back to your wife.  Just be patient and do whatever she needs you to do, even if that’s shutting up and not touching her.”

 

A soft chorus of “good lucks” followed Dan as he mustered up some energy and jogged back to Trixie’s room.

 

Trixie’s mother was just coming to the door as he walked in.

 

“She’s asking for you again,” she said, patting his arm in the comforting, motherly way she always had.

 

Dan breathed a sigh of relief.  He could deal with not talking to Trixie or touching her, but he couldn’t deal with not being there at all.  He gave Moms a brief hug and rushed to Trixie’s side as she looked like she wanted to get out of bed again.

 

“Trixie?”

 

“Dan?  Dan?”

 

“What is it, sweetie?”

 

She held onto his arm, frozen in mid-movement as if she couldn’t decide where she wanted to be—up or down, in bed or out.  “Dan?” she whimpered again, her voice thin.

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

 

He stared at her in stunned silence for several seconds.  Everything was so still around them that when he finally spoke again, it sounded like a shout.  “What?”

 

Trixie didn’t respond but pulled herself to her feet and promptly bent over, her knees almost buckling as she clutched Dan for support.

 

“What?” he asked again, certain he hadn’t heard her correctly.

 

“I can’t do this,” she muttered.  “I’m too tired.  And I’m hungry.  And it hurts too much.  I quit.”

 

There was the tiniest flicker of spirit in her voice so he gently teased back, “I think you’ve kind of gone past the point of no return, babe.”

 

He picked up a cool, wet cloth from the bedside table and brushed the sweat-dampened curls back from her forehead.  She leaned toward him and he sat on the edge of the bed, absorbing her weight as she bent over his lap.  She seemed very heavy, more than just mother and child.  She was carrying the weight of fatigue and pain.

 

“You’re doing so great, Trix.  Dr. Thomas says it’ll be time to push soon.  We’re almost there and you’re doing great.  You can do it.”

 

“But it hurts so much,” she moaned.

 

“I know.”

 

“You don’t know,” she growled.

 

“You’re right,” he replied immediately.  “Of course, you’re right.  I couldn’t know how much it hurts.”

 

“Why is it taking so long?  How long have I been in labor?  Is it still February?”

 

Dan smiled but squelched a laugh, not wanting to upset her further.  “It’s still February.  In fact, it’s February 14th, sweetie.  Valentine’s Day.  You’ve only been in labor for about 17 hours.”

“Only?” she squawked.  “I started labor yesterday and I’m still in labor?  This sucks!”

 

“But I’m so proud of you.  You’re doing great and you’re so brave.”

 

“Shut u—”

 

She lost the will, or the ability, to speak as another contraction hit.  All Dan could hear were tiny whimpers between pants.  He rubbed her lower back and mopped her brow … and kept quiet, glancing at the nurse who stood by to offer whatever support they needed.  She had one eye on the fetal monitor and nodded to Dan as the peak of the contraction began to ebb.

 

Risking being yelled at, he murmured, “That’s it, Trix.  It’s passing now.  Try to relax.  You’re doing great.”

 

“I think I have to push,” she mumbled.

 

Dan’s eyes darted to the nurse who shook her head and said softly but firmly, “Not yet, Trixie.  Try blowing instead.”

 

“No, I want to push,” Trixie insisted with a hint of her typical stubbornness.

 

“Sweetie, I don’t think you’re ready yet,” Dan soothed.  “Dr. Thomas said you probably have another hour maybe.”

 

“I’m ready!” she screamed.  “Now!”

 

The “Now!” turned to “Ow!” as another contraction hit.  Dan looked frantically to the nurse, who was on the phone calling for the delivery team.

 

“Oh, man, what do I do?” he asked, not certain if his question was directed at Trixie, the nurse, or the book still stowed in Trixie’s bag.

 

The next few minutes were a blur.  Medical personnel and birthing equipment poured into the room.  Dan’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as he watched them set up.  There seemed to be so many people for one tiny little baby, but nobody looked distressed and everybody went about their assigned tasks calmly, which helped to calm him down, too.  He took his position by Trixie’s shoulder, putting his arms around her for physical and moral support.  Somebody pressed their digital camera into his hand.  He had almost forgotten about it.  He wrapped the strap around his wrist and stared dumbly at it, not certain what the next step was in how to make it work.

 

Everybody was on their mark as if waiting for a curtain to be raised on a play when Dr. Madison came in and took charge.  She confirmed that Trixie was, in fact, fully dilated and grinned up at them.  “Are you two ready to have a baby?”

 

Dan thought he heard a tiny laugh come from Trixie and he squeezed her arms and leaned over to kiss her sweaty brow.  “We’re ready,” he said.  “Unless you want to wait a little bit longer, Trix.”

 

“Shut up,” she said, this time with great affection.

 

“Follow your instincts now, Trixie,” Dr. Madison directed.  “When you feel the urge to push, go ahead and push.  Remember to take a couple of deep breaths as you feel the pressure build, then hold your breath and bear down.”

 

Trixie nodded.  Dan nodded.  A large mirror had been set up right next to Dr. Madison so they could watch the progress of their child’s birth.  Dan was both unnerved and fascinated at the same time.  The camera dangled uselessly from his wrist until Trixie poked at him, mutely urging him to document the momentous event.  How was he supposed to do that and encourage her at the same time?  If only she had consented to let somebody else in the delivery room—her mother, Honey, Diana with her professional photography skills.  Was it too late to get Diana?

 

He gasped as he saw the top of their baby’s head in the mirror.  Yeah, it was probably too late.

 

He managed to get the camera up into his hand and turned on but after that it was anybody’s guess as to what he’d actually be able to document.  He didn’t check the framing or the focus.  It was all point and shoot from that moment on.

 

He leaned close to Trixie’s ear and whispered, “I love you.”

 

She couldn’t answer as another contraction began to build and she prepared to push, but she leaned her head against his cheek and squeezed his fingers tightly.

 

And that was enough.

 

 

 

 

 

When Dan next walked into the waiting room, everybody was there and everybody was awake.  In fact, everybody was standing, staring attentively at him.  He wondered if they had been staring with the same intensity at the closed door for the past two hours and ten minutes, waiting for his return.

 

People who had left had returned—Tad and Bobby looked solemn, or perhaps the mischief had simply worn out hours ago.  Uncle Bill had returned from the stables, his face and hands scrubbed clean but telltale mud caked on his boots.  Trixie’s dad had been called in from the bank.  He had on his suit and tie as if greeting a grandchild was a formal business affair.

 

And there were new visitors as well.  Honey’s mother held her hand.  She had missed her grandson’s birth but the anxious glimmer in her hazel eyes told him she remembered how scary childbirth could be.  Aidan was there and India, too.  Even Agent Fisk had apparently snuck out of the office to come see how his partner was getting along.

 

Only one person who should’ve been there was missing and Dan felt an ache in his heart at the absence of his old friend, his guardian, the best father figure he’d ever had.

 

“It’s a boy,” he announced to the waiting crowd, his voice hoarse.  “Nine pounds, ten ounces, 21 1/2 inches long.  Baby’s great.  Trixie’s great.  She’s hungry.”

 

“That’s my girl,” Mart crowed.  He put his arm around Sally and gave her a kiss.

 

Hugs and kisses, laughter and tears of happiness quickly filled the small room.  Dan’s legs felt progressively weaker as each person hugged him and congratulated him.  He had the urge to just lean into their arms and fall asleep on his feet.

 

His Uncle Bill gave him a back-slapping hug that nearly knocked him off his weary feet.  “I’m a great-uncle!” he exclaimed, his sage green eyes lit up with joy.

 

“You’ve always been a great uncle,” Dan corrected.  “The baby’s name is William.  Will.”

 

His uncle’s face ran a gamut of emotions in mere seconds—surprise, awe, embarrassment, delight, and appreciation.  He nodded but seemed too overcome to say anything.

 

“William Edwin Mangan,” Dan told the rest of the family.

 

More tears were shed and Dan felt certain an extra pair of eyes smiled down from Heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

Trixie wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up but it was dark outside the hospital window.  A light shone from behind the partially open bathroom door, gently blanketing the room in a peaceful glow.

 

Dan lay awkwardly on his side across the foot of the bed, his hand draped over the edge of the wheeled bassinet, his son’s tiny fist held delicately between his fingers.

 

Trixie poked him with her foot but he didn’t move.  Would the nurses have let the baby stay here if they were both sleeping?

 

“Hey,” she whispered.  “Are you awake?”

 

A quiet grunt from the end of the bed wasn’t a clear answer but his other hand reached behind him and caressed her ankle.

 

She pushed the covers back and crawled to the foot of the bed, resting her chin on his shoulder.  “What’re you doing?”

 

“Watching our son sleep.”

 

Trixie grinned.  She knew one of Dan’s favorite pastimes was watching her sleep.  “Have I been dethroned?”

 

Dan turned his head and puckered his lips and Trixie leaned closer to kiss him.

 

“Never,” he avowed.  But he turned his focus back to the baby and added, “It’s just so … amazing.”

 

Trixie leaned a little farther over his side and peered into the bassinet.  Will’s tiny, red face was scrunched up, eyes pinched shut.  A small swath of dark hair was plastered to his oversized head, just peeking out from underneath a blue cap.  He was swaddled in a white hospital blanket with only the one little fist thrust out.  Had he managed to escape?  Or had Dan pulled the arm out in order to touch his son?

 

“I’ve been looking at him for a long time,” Dan commented.  “I’ve been trying to be totally objective.  I mean not all babies can be beautiful, right?  But ours is.  In fact, I think Will is the best looking baby in that nursery.”

 

Trixie chuckled.  “I agree.”


“Yeah, but you’re biased,” Dan joked.  “You haven’t even seen the other babies in the nursery yet.”

 

She pressed her lips against his shoulder and murmured, “You ought to go home and get some sleep.”

 

“I can sleep here.”

 

“You’d be more comfortable at home.”

 

“I’ll sleep better knowing that when I wake up the first thing I’ll see is you and Will.”

 

“Well, you have to go home at some point,” Trixie teased.  “You smell bad.”

 

Dan turned and tugged on one of her limp curls.  “You’re no bed o’ roses yourself, Sweaty Von Stink Munster.”

 

His expression softened and grew serious and Trixie could tell he was thinking about the long hours of exertion she had gone through to create all that perspiration.

 

“Thank you,” he said.  “Thank you for the best Valentine’s Day gift ever.”

 

“I think you had something to do with it,” she bantered back.

 

Dan grunted.  “Yeah, I donated the sperm.”

 

She rubbed her hand along his leg.  “You did more than that.”

 

“But you did all the hard work,” he insisted.  “That was incredible.  I don’t know how you did that.”

 

“I couldn’t have, not without you.”

 

“Still, I’m going to get you the biggest bunch of roses I can buy—”

 

“Daisies,” she interrupted.  “Get daisies.”

 

He nodded agreeably.  “And the biggest box of chocolates I can find.”

 

She grinned at him.  “If you insist.”

 

Finally, if reluctantly, letting go of Will’s hand, Dan sat up and took his wife into his arms.  Together they cuddled in silence, Dan’s lips brushing across her hair, his heart thudding rhythmically against hers.

 

“Go home,” she said at last, shoving him gently to prod him off the bed.  “They’ll probably release us tomorrow afternoon and you’ll need a good night’s rest before we come home.  No more doctors or nurses or hovering residents.  It’ll be just you and me, pal.”

 

“And Will.”

 

She smiled.  “And Will.”

 

“And Penny,” he added with an impish smile.

 

She giggled.  “And the Beldens.  And Regan.”

 

“And the Bob-Whites.”

 

“And all those fringe Bob-Whites,” she added with a wink.

 

“Our family.”

 

“Yes.  Our family.”

 

 

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AUTHOR'S NOTES

Part 4 (6,141 words)
Total Word Count for Chapter 37 (29,226 words)

This story is in celebration of my Third Jixaversary!  Knowing it would fall on a Wednesday, which has become my signature day to post stories (grin), I wanted to make it extra special and I hope I have.  The next time January 5th falls on a Wednesday (thanks to a Leap Year) is not until 2022.  Will I still be around and writing on my 14th Jixaversary?  I hope so! (grin)

Thank you so much to all those at Jix who accepted me as an author and who have supported me and my non-traditional writings.  Your enjoyment and kind comments are definitely what keep me going down this road not taken.  Dan and Trixie well know that family doesn't have to be blood-related and I'm just so happy that you all are my family as well.  Thanks also to my editors, both my regular trio (Ruth, Annette, and Heather) and anybody who has pitched in to help when needed or for specific types of stories that needed a special editor (MaryN, Pat, Steph, and anybody else I may have forgotten).  And to all those who tirelessly answer questions, give opinions, make comments that spark my muses, etc.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!

This entire story has also been a contribution to CWP #2.1.  The elements were: 

I am deeply indebted to Ruth for sharing her personal experiences with me for this tale of Trixie’s endless labor.  They were eye-opening, a little scary, and a little amusing, too. 

I had originally hoped that Part 4 of this story would be a contribution to CWP #2.4 but it just didn’t work out that way.  Still, I kept the film The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre in there because it worked.  If Trixie, Dan and Jim wanted to go see the newly released romantic comedy, they would’ve been seeing the Matthew McConaughey/Kate Hudson film How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days which opened the week before Valentine’s Day in 2003. 

Honey’s far scarier childbirth experience was detailed in Part 7 of Chapter 25-The Runaway.

Ricky (Ricardo) and Fred (Mertz) are the two male leads from the classic comedy I Love Lucy.

McDonald’s.  Not mine.  Really, does anybody think any of these companies will actually sue me for giving them free advertising?

Goodnight Moon is my very favorite children’s picture book and I often give it as a gift to expectant mothers.  The Runaway Bunny is by the same author (Margaret Wise Brown).  The other gifts in Honey’s basket are things suggested by What to Expect When You’re Expecting to bring to the hospital with you for labor, delivery, and afterward.

Yep, Simon and Hallie are back together.  Nope, you haven’t missed something.  Yep, I’ll get to that story later.  Promise.

Yes, Ruth told me plainly, “Transition SUCKS.”

 

Header photos is from Istockphoto.com with the border added by me at Photobucket.  Blue/pink bows section dividers are from  Webweaver's Free Clipart. Background is from All Free Web Graphics.