by Robin Janney
“Oh honey, you’re not that old.”
Maude managed a shaky smile for her husband who held his hand against her cheek, even as Cassie’s jaw dropped as the understanding dawned on her.
“You’re pregnant?” asked Cassie.
“I am. And according to the ultrasound, I’m farther along than Dr. Evans first thought.” Maude leaned into her husband’s touch. “I’m past the first trimester already.”
Silence held ground in the kitchen. Cassie looked from parent to parent again, seeing them as if for the first time.
“Oh! My! God!” Cassie leapt to her feet, with a happy squeal. She threw her arms around her mother. “That’s just crazy! No wonder you’ve been so moody and cranky!”
Maude chuckled while Philip let out a belly laugh. “Yes, Cass. That would be why. You’re not upset?”
“No! So, you’re a little old, doesn’t mean you and Dad don’t still get it on. And I’d rather you be pregnant than sick! We’ve been so worried!” Cassie sat back down, her body still jumping with excitement. “But this! This means we get to have a baby shower! I mean, you got rid of all your baby things years ago.”
“Not all,” her mother said softly. Philip chuckled as it went unheard.
“And baby names! We need to figure out baby names! I hope it’s a girl! We can name her…”
Philip’s laughter brought the young woman to a halt. “You might want to let your mother get used to the idea that the baby isn’t all hers!”
Maude was chuckling herself. “I don’t know why I ever thought it would all be on me.”
Cassie took a moment to understand. “Wait, you thought we wouldn’t help? Mom, I know Angela’s too far away and Jared will be leaving for college soon too, but I can get an apartment in town like Angela did and commute. So that I can be here for you and Dad.”
Maude cleared her throat. “That’s nice, but what about your girlfriend? Won’t she want your attention too?”
“Mom.” Cassie shrugged in embarrassment. “I’ll respect your beliefs and not bring her around or anything, but she’ll understand I’ll need to help you.”
Smiling, Maude patted her daughter’s hand. “She’ll understand more if you bring her around, so we can meet her. I don’t know how serious you are about this girl, but if it’s what you want, and she’s the one you want, the least I can do is meet her.”
Cassie looked at her father, who was nodding and obviously pleased. “I’ll have her pick me up Saturday before we go to the mall then.”
“Good enough,” said Maude.
“Now,” said a happy sounding Philip, his hands rubbing together. “Who wants to call the other kids and let them know there’s a little one on the way?”
“Me!” declared Cassie, already pulling her cellphone out of her back pocket. “No, wait…we can all do it! I’ll put her on speaker and we can all talk with her and Jared.” She pressed the speaker button and the ringing of the other phone sounded in the kitchen.
“Hi Cassie!” Angela greeted them, her voice small. “I sound weird, am I on speaker?”
“You are,” confirmed Cassie. She held the phone in the center of them. “Mom and Dad are here too. We have something to tell you and Jared. Is he right there?”
“No, he’s working right now. Do you want me to get him and call you back?”
Cassie looked at her parents, wondering if they were picking up on the tone of Angela’s voice.
“No, that’s alright,” Maude was saying, her eyes flicking up at her husband. “You can tell him when he comes back in from the range.”
“Okay. So, what’s up?” Angela’s voice was sullen and distracted.
Philip cleared his throat, and the young woman felt a sudden urge to end the call. She even looked at him, the question on her face, but her father gave her a slow shake of his head.
“Well, don’t everybody speak at once!” Angela quipped, her voice sounding more like herself. “Oh God, someone’s not sick, are they?”
Their mother chuckled as she answered. “No dear, nothing that won’t resolve itself around Christmas time. It seems I’m having a baby.”
“Wow,” replied Angela. “Really? How…strike that, I know how it happens.” She laughed at herself, but it sounded forced. “That’s awesome! Has Cassie started picking out baby names yet?”
“She has,” confirmed Philip. He still looked worried as he looked at the phone held in the center of the three.
“And I hope it’s a girl!” Cassie chimed in. Had those first few moments of wooden depression been their imagination?
“A girl…that would be nice…” Angela suddenly seemed far away. She laughed again, this time sounding more genuine. “Do you remember how Cassie wanted to name Jared after Winnie the Pooh?”
“I was six!” said Cassie, in defense of herself.
They all laughed at the memory.
“We’ll have to put a baby shower together for her, Cassie,” said Angela. She sniffed. “Call me later when she’s not around and we can start planning it.”
“Sure,” said Cassie, looking at her parents again.
“Angela,” began Maude, carefully. Cassie was familiar with these shifts in her parents, she had seen them do this with her sister countless times over the years. They were discerning the same warning signals Cassie was picking up on. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You sound like something’s bothering you.”
The silence that greeted them told the truth about the lie that followed.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just tired. My day started really early this morning.”
The three gathered around the cellphone looked at each other, their joy taking a turn for concern.
“We’ll let you go then,” said Philip. “The baby’s not coming for a bit yet, so there’s plenty of time to plan.”
“Yeah. Plenty of time.” The woman’s voice on the other end of the phone became almost wooden again. “Problem is, time flies faster than you think.”
A chill crawled up Philip’s spine. Something was bothering his girl and he couldn’t sit her down and talk her into revealing what it was because she was too far away for that. He wondered if they had the funds for a trip to Montana.
“Get some rest, sweetheart,” his wife advised their oldest daughter.
“You too, Mom. Take care of yourself and that little baby.”
There was a click before anyone else could say their farewells.
“What was that?” muttered Cassie, closing her phone and putting it away.
“Craig’s not home yet, is he?” asked Maude.
“I don’t know,” replied the young woman, with a glance at her parents. She looked hesitant, and for the first time Philip wondered whether she too had inherited the same intuitive gene his other children had. If she had, she was far more silent about it. “They talked almost every night while I was there, but whenever I asked when he was coming home, Angela just shrugged. She kept getting quieter every day, but she put up a good front. Pam didn’t notice anything, but she’s not used to Ange’s moods, so she wouldn’t have known what to look for. And Jared’s worried. Did he tell either of you about the night he found Angela rearranging stuff in the kitchen?”
Philip sighed, shaking his head. “No. That’s not good.”
Worry shown on each face, though Philip knew he was the only one present to know the root of this behavior. Other than himself, Craig and Everett were the only ones; he doubted even Angela knew the true root.
Maude cleared her throat. “Has anyone heard how Les has been doing since the shooting?”
Philip sat in one of the remaining kitchen chairs, his hand covering one of his wife’s hands. “Actually, he called me a few days ago when everyone was out. We had quite the conversation. Seems Craig has been having more trouble coping with his father’s injury than he himself has. Les is worried.”
No one seemed to know what to say.
“Maybe we should pray?” suggested Philip.
Maude answered by putting h
er other hand in her husband’s. He was surprised when Cassie reached out and slipped her hands over their clasped ones. Maude turned to her in surprise as well.
Cassie shrugged. “It seems right.”
Together, the family prayed.
A ngela sat comfortably on Belle’s back, gently riding along the southern acres where she saw a small equine based therapy ‘dude ranch’ existing someday.
If Craig would just come home, she could run her idea by him.
With an irritated hitch of the reigns, Angela turned her horse back towards home. Dr. Ryan had said she could ride for now, but at a walk only. And she had to take care and make sure there was no chance of falling. As her pregnancy progressed, she would be forbidden riding altogether, so she intended to make the most of it while she could.
If she and Dr. Ryan were right, then she was almost three months pregnant. He was amazed she hadn’t lost the pregnancy when Buster slammed her into the stable wall. The light period she had in Tyler’s Grove could have been her body’s attempt at a miscarriage, and Dr. Ryan believed the only thing to have saved the unborn child had been the amount of rest Angela had given herself during that time.
It was all speculation, of course. There was no way to tell for sure. The fact remained, Angela was pregnant. And her husband kept giving her vague promises as to when he’d be home. Would her news spur him home?
What if it didn’t? It looked like Craig was having so much fun with his city friends and family, as well as the pretty Katie. What if he wanted to stay there without his wife? After all, she was ‘safe’ here and unable to complicate things.
The fact her mother was pregnant added to Angela’s anxiety. She was happy for her mom, especially since it explained the other woman’s recent moodiness. But the distance between them was more than physical. Her mother’s remarks at Christmas and since had driven a wedge between them again. Why couldn’t her mother just love her like she claimed? Why did there always have to be conditions?
They had been closer for a time after her discovery that Maude and Philip had legally adopted her, and it had continued during her recovery from her coma. But once she had reunited with her husband and it was made known that Craig was taking Angela away, Maude had grown cold. Angela didn’t completely understand it, even after Cassie had confided during her visit that their mother thought Craig was either abusing Angela or Angela was hurting herself for attention.
How could she reveal her pregnancy after hearing about that?
Not for the first time, Angela wondered about her birth mother’s relationship with her birth father. Everett Crane was a criminal. She didn’t know the details, didn’t want to. He even had state police officers ‘working’ for him. Whether they were paid, Angela didn’t know. She didn’t care to know. But he had done everything in his power to protect her almost five years ago in Tyler’s Grove, and when that had failed, to rescue her. He had been there himself, not hesitating to be amid the flying bullets. Those memories were vague, but Angela remembered this part all too clearly. He had held her and cried over her unconscious body while she’d watched in spirit form.
How had her mother come to be with her father? Had Janine Carman known everything Everett was? If her mother was as mentally ill as Angela had been led to believe, would it have mattered to her if she’d known the man she was sleeping with was a criminal?
Guiding Belle into the corner of the stables set aside for cross-tying, Angela gently slid herself down to the ground. And waved a groom away so she could care of her horse as usual. She didn’t know why they always tried to take over for her, they should know better by now. It gave her great pleasure to run the brush over Belle’s back and sides after a ride. It helped calm her further and gave her a chance to talk to her horse.
Angela also knew that part of the reason why her anxiety was higher than usual was because she was no longer taking the medicine meant to ease it. Pat said it would even out in a few days, but it could remain high throughout the course of her pregnancy. Her therapist had also suggested aborting the baby since there was a chance the medicine she normally took had damaged the fetus, but Angela was willing to take that chance. Even Dr. Ryan said it was too soon to be sure.
Patting Belle goodbye after seeing her into her stall, Angela left the stables quietly, not noticing when Princess appeared at her side. The few grooms she passed looked her way but didn’t try to talk to her. Had she noticed, she would have seen their concern for her. Walking into her home, she turned her phone back on and was delighted to see texts from her husband. Nothing of substance, but any communication from him was always welcome.
She replied to him: Hi Craig! Sorry for the delay, I was out riding Belle.
There was no immediate reply, and she sighed. Not for the first time, Angela reconsidered her habit of turning her phone off when riding. But like every other time, she made the same decision. When she was riding, she didn’t want the interruption, and she didn’t want to chance spooking whichever horse she might be riding. Belle especially didn’t like the vibrating of a cellphone. Sliding her phone into her pocket, Angela went off in search of Nan. Her husband would get back to her when he decided he wanted to.
T he evening meal was a quiet one. But since Les was tired from his physical therapy, he didn’t mind. Veronica had ordered Chinese takeout instead of cooking, and he understood since she had been out for most of the afternoon. She was as hard to get out the door as his son sometimes. At least he hadn’t lost feeling in his hands; he could still manage chopsticks.
Deftly lifting rice and chicken to his mouth, Les looked at his quiet family. His wife sat across from him, dressed in cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Her sable hair was in the elegant twist she usually wore. Most likely she planned on hitting the gym after dinner; it was another routine he’d had to twist her arm to get back at.
In between them, sat Craig. His smartphone was next to his plate and occasionally he’d tap on it left handed; the chopsticks in his other hand pushed food around on his plate more often than they carried food to his mouth. To his eyes, it looked like his son had lost weight since his arrival in the city.
Les wasn’t sure what his son was doing on the phone. But then, he didn’t know what his son had done during the afternoon either. He was sure he still knew more about what was going on with his son in prison rather than the one under his roof. Craig had probably taken another stroll through Central Park or gone to another one of his teenage haunts. Les recalled his son used to spend a lot of time in any of the city parks, anywhere he could find a small corner of country. Summers spent in Montana at his grandmother’s cabin had instilled a love of peace and quiet in the boy.
Both his wife and son looked as tired as he felt. He imagined his announcement would stir things up a bit.
Washing his food down with a sip of cold wine, Les cleared his throat. “I was talking with Dr. Rashid today. She sees no reason why I can’t return to work. I’ve already talked to Eddie about it.”
“Are you sure, Les?” his wife asked, abruptly setting her fork next to her plate. She’d never gotten the hang of chopsticks. Odd, he thought, the things one notices and when.
Craig sat straight in his chair.
Les nodded, wondering what objection his son would come up with and hurried to speak before he could. “It’ll only be part time for right now. I’ll go in for a few hours in the morning, before physical therapy in the afternoon.” He lifted more rice and chicken to his mouth.
“When?” asked Craig, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Not this Monday, but the next.” Les took another sip of wine; it was a sweet white tonight. After his most recent visit with Tim, as his lawyer so he could stay in the wheelchair, he wasn’t sure when he’d feel right drinking red wine again. “First Monday of the month seemed simplest. Eddie’s already talking about a welcome back party that night. He’s booking a place big enough so he can invite all our employees and even the court employees we deal with. And their families. Food, wine, cha
mpagne.”
“That sounds wonderful!” declared Veronica.
“Have you thought this through, Dad?” Now Craig lowered his chopsticks and pushed his plate away. Even though his phone chimed Angela’s text tone, he ignored it. “I mean, how will you work the wheelchair and the limo you usually take? It’s a manual wheelchair. Are you going to want to be wheeling yourself around the office?”
“I have a new chair ordered. A light electric one. It should arrive tomorrow.” Les spoke evenly. His son would have to accept his father’s disability sooner or later. He hadn’t given up hope he’d walk again, but he wasn’t going to sit around waiting for it – even though he had little choice but to sit. “I’ll need help to get in and out of the limo, but Adelle and I have been practicing. She’s even been teaching Enrique how to help. If it lasts, I’ll look into purchasing something equipped for a wheelchair.”
Grabbing his phone, Craig pushed away from the table angrily and walked away without another word. Les watched him move towards the bedrooms.
“That went well,” said Veronica lightly.
Les waved her to silence, waiting to see if Craig would come back. He didn’t. Instead, he watched his son leave the penthouse. Shaking his head, he looked at his wife. “Ronni, I don’t know how to help him. He’s been taking this harder than I thought he would.”
Veronica picked her fork back up, but only pushed her food around. “It’s been hard for us, Les. You’ve always been such a powerful capable man. Vibrant. Nothing ever stood in your way or slowed you down. You never needed help from anyone. And then suddenly, a stray bullet knocks you off your feet. We came so close to losing you entirely. It’s unsettling for us to see you trapped in a chair, depending on others for help. I know just how capable you are still, how you keep pushing yourself, but Craig doesn’t see you the same way I do. You’re his father.”
Les nodded. He didn’t deserve his son’s hero worship but knew it would never go away no matter how badly he failed his boys. Even Tim held on to his love for him. “I just wish I could help him. Dr. Rashid is the most hopeful she’s been since I was injured. She’s confident I’ll regain the use of my legs, but Craig doesn’t seem to believe her. It’s just a matter of time.”
