Sweet and Sassy Baby Love

by Alicia Street

  “I do?”

  He looked up from his phone and nodded his head. “Finally, someone with a brain.”

  “Oh, Mike, be careful,” Roberta said, laughing.

  A rap on the door ended the conversation. Bridget stayed put, sitting in her usual position at the counter, with baby Flynn playing on the floor at her feet. When Big Mike opened the door, a definite change in atmosphere entered along with Patty’s mother and father, and by the expressions on their faces, it was clear they’d heard the news.

  “You! You!” she cried, pointing at Bridget. “This is all your fault.”

  “Tina, what are you talking about?” Roberta said in a loud enough voice that Flynn looked at her to see what the ruckus was about. “Do you want to go back in history?”

  “She was just waiting to pounce, like a cougar! The minute Tony broke up with Patty, this one was on the scene.” She pointed at Bridget with a flourish.

  “Calm down,” George groaned. “I’m sorry, you guys, we were going to come to dinner and behave like two adults, but my wife has other ideas.”

  “My child is heartbroken! You can’t blame her for being upset.”

  “Patty tried to burn Tony and Bridget’s house down, Tina. That’s cray cray. That’s not upset.”

  “She’s not crazy! She swears she didn’t do it. You’re turning your back on my kid. You’ve known Patty her entire life.”

  “It’s sad, that’s true. But it was time for those two to break up. They were toxic for each other.”

  “I hate that word,” Tina cried. “What was toxic about it? They’d been together all of their lives.”

  “And that makes it right? Look at you two. What kind of example did you set for your girls, Tina?”

  “Roberta, oh my God.” Big Mike groaned.

  “It’s true. She knows George has a wandering eye. The girl who showed up out of nowhere looking for her father is proof. Yet she tolerates it so she doesn’t have to get a job.”

  “Is that true?” George asked his wife.

  “To an extent,” Tina said, pulling a paper towel off the roll in Roberta’s kitchen to blow her nose. “I didn’t want to start over and let some bimbo enjoy everything I worked for. I supported you, George, while you built your business. That’s a lot to throw away.”

  No one replied to her.

  “And now my daughter is falling apart. All for what? A man who was able to cast her aside like a piece of garbage.”

  “Lord, give me strength.” Big Mike moaned. “Look, we aren’t having Christmas dinner here today, okay? There’s too much upsetting crap going on with the fire. If you cared about us, you would have called right away to see if we needed anything when it happened last night. But nooo! You show up on our doorstep like a couple of beggars, wanting dinner.”

  “We’re upset, too! The cops were at the door looking for her today. They ended up waiting at the gate and grabbing her when she tried to sneak out of the house.”

  George still stood at the door, looking down at the floor while his wife continued her rant.

  “And we’ve spent every Christmas here for the last twenty-five years. Why wouldn’t we come over now?”

  “Yes, about that, Tina. Maybe it’s time you invited us to your house,” Roberta said, still calm and cool as could be. “Like Mike said, this Christmas sucked! I’m not even blaming Patty for the whole thing, but she is responsible for the fire.”

  Throwing the paper toweling in the trash, Tina returned to the living room. “We have to eat. So let me cook. What were you going to have?”

  “Isn’t your kid in jail?” Roberta asked. “Shouldn’t you be getting a lawyer?”

  “We already did that,” George said. “Come on, Tina. They’re right. We shouldn’t have come here.”

  Big Mike and Roberta looked at each other with a smirk, shrugging their shoulders.

  “If Tina wants to cook, let her,” Roberta said. “I’ve had about all I can take today.”

  “What were you going to fix?”

  “Oh no you don’t. You wanna cook? Look in the fridge and figure it out. I’m taking my grandson into the den to watch cartoons.”

  “But he’s not really your grandson, is he,” Tina stated.

  “Ignore her,” Roberta whispered to Bridget. “She’s an idiot.”

  Cringing, there it was again, the word that made Bridget’s skin crawl. Moving her hands down over her belly, she hoped so badly that her baby was going to be okay, hating it that Roberta’s thoughtless words would make her think of her baby. She was in protection mode, the mother tiger she would become exposing herself a little bit.

  Baby girl will be fine.

  The week between Christmas and New Year was regroup week for the Saints. Big Mike, Tony and his brothers redoubled their efforts to get the house on Seacrest back to its original condition before the fire.

  “I don’t even care about a new kitchen now,” Bridget proclaimed. “A working bathroom and a microwave to heat up bottles and I’m good to go.”

  “We can do better than that,” Tony said. “We’re getting the electrical in place this weekend, and once that’s finished, everything else will fall into place.”

  “How did I get so lucky?” she murmured, slipping into his arms.

  “How did I get so lucky, you mean,” he replied, then looked down. “I’m getting kicked in the gut, but other than that, everything is perfect.”

  “She has been so active lately.”

  “You’re almost in your third trimester, time for another ultrasound.”

  “I could have one, but I don’t see the value in it, honestly.”

  “You should have one, Bridget. Just for peace of mind.”

  Oh yeah, she thought. I’ll have one, but not when you’re around.

  Purposely making the appointment on Friday evening when Tony was at work, Bridget trembled with apprehension driving to the office. Once inside, the nurse noticed Bridget was nervous as she weighed her and took her vital signs.

  “Bridget, are you okay today?” the kind woman asked. “I took care of you through your pregnancy with Flynn. You’re not yourself.”

  “There was a sign my baby might have Down syndrome, and I’ve been avoiding it. I haven’t even discussed it with the baby’s father. I refused further testing and the twenty-week ultrasound. I don’t think I would cope knowing ahead of time. But it’s unfair of me to keep this from Tony.”

  The nurse leafed through the chart. “You’re seeing Gloria today, the nurse practitioner. Let’s ask her for some insight.”

  “Okay,” Bridget said, relief washing over her.

  The dream of her baby might change dramatically if she asked more questions. Was that what she wanted? Wouldn’t it be better to find out at delivery? That was the big question. How would she cope in the coming weeks? How would she prepare?

  Gloria listened to Bridget spill her heart out, holding her hand while she talked.

  “I have your latest blood work right here. Because of the results of the first trimester ultrasound, we ran a test at twenty weeks that we can compare with the early blood test. It will give us an idea of the probability of your baby having trisomy 21. It’s an extra chromosome.”

  “I know that. I Google.”

  “Please don’t anymore,” Gloria replied, smiling. “It won’t be helpful. If you must go online, there are some wonderful blogs where parents of children with Down syndrome share their experiences. You’ve spent months processing the unknown. You’ll get to the point where you can’t do anything else until you see her at birth.”

  “I’m there now. I’m ready for answers. I’m ready to share the news, if any, with Tony.”

  “Okay, this will just take a moment.” Gloria turned her back, giving her privacy for a few more minutes.

  As Gloria looked at Bridget with compassion, Bridget’s heart fell. “The probability is high that your little baby girl has trisomy 21, or Down syndrome. Bridget, I can only tell you what I know from the mothers a
nd fathers I’ve talked to about this. Once your baby is in your arms, you’ll find out that she simply needs the same things Flynn does. Everything else, the special interventions, you’ll plan for later. Right now, you just need to take care of Bridget and Tony and make sure you are okay. And that means you need to trust him with the news.”

  Feeling like the breath had been knocked out of her, nothing could have prepared her for this. She was so glad she didn’t know for certain almost six months ago, and that she’d protected Tony from it. Getting through each day would have been insufferable. Then she thought of something.

  “There’s still a chance she won’t have it, correct?” Gripping her hands together, Bridget imagined being in their bedroom at the Saints’, telling Tony that that their baby would have Down syndrome. Did he even know what it was?

  “There’s still a chance. You could have an amniocentesis to be sure.”

  “No. There’s no need. She’s healthy, correct? Her heart and her body were fine in the first test.”

  “Why not have another ultrasound, then, just for peace of mind?”

  “That’s exactly what Tony said. His words.”

  Gloria waited patiently for Bridget to decide. Her mind was whirling. What could they find out that was worse?

  “Okay. I’ll have an ultrasound. I’ll schedule it for when Tony is off work so he can come.”

  On the way home she debated how to tell him. Wishing he was home wasn’t going to make him materialize. He’d be home the following morning, a Saturday. The plan for the weekend was to do the electrical work at last. Was it fair to him to hear bad news first thing? Gloria had said something that resonated. “You have to trust him with the facts.”

  She did trust Tony. He was loving and compassionate. Flynn loved him because Tony so loved him. What was she afraid of?

  The conversation she had had with Randy when she told him she was pregnant probably had something to do with it. Tony would never be a Randy. He wouldn’t walk away from a problem. It just wasn’t his way. She thought about how gentle he was, even with Patty. He’d stuck by her long after he should have walked away. But was that what she really wanted?

  “Ugh, stop it.”

  Saturday morning, she primped before Tony was due home. The fire station had had a quiet night, so he claimed to have slept long enough when he’d called before heading for home.

  “I can’t wait to get over to the house and start working.”

  “Me too. My parents offered to babysit so I can come along. Do you want to go to breakfast first?”

  “We could do that. We haven’t had a date in a long time.”

  Now she was going to ostensibly destroy it by giving him news he wasn’t going to want. Deciding it was better not to try to plan out what she’d say, she’d come right out and say it. There’s a good chance our baby will be born with Down syndrome.

  He got home around eight, and they didn’t waste time preparing Flynn for his trip to Granny and Grandpa Clark’s. Alice and Caitlin met them at the door.

  “Oh, come to Granny, you cutie! Have a good time and don’t hurry back. We’re ready to have him for the day.”

  Emmett walked up just as they were preparing to leave. “I set up the port-a-crib in our room so he’ll be comfortable.”

  “Thank you, Mam,” she said, kissing her cheek. “Thanks, Da.”

  “Yes, thank you both so much,” Tony said.

  He slid his arm around Bridget’s shoulders as they walked back to the truck while Alice looked on.

  “I wish they’d get married,” she mumbled.

  “Mam, really?” Caitlin asked. “They’re fine the way they are.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Once they were in the truck, Bridget knew she didn’t want to tell him about the baby in a restaurant. “Can we pick up something and take it back to our house?”

  “Sure. No one will be there yet. It will be perfect.” He looked over at her and smiled, melting her heart. So much was about to change. The fairy tale, for one thing, was going to crash into reality.

  They went through the drive-thru and got breakfast burritos and then stopped at Peterson’s Donuts for coffee and goodies, enough for whoever came by to work.

  The debris from the fire filled a dumpster that was yet to be emptied, but other than that, all signs of Patty’s destruction were gone. She had been released on a bond and hadn’t tried to contact Tony to apologize. The only other sign that there had been a fire was a slightly charred piece of board and batten siding that Big Mike was going to replace on Sunday after church.

  “I love our house,” Tony said when they pulled into the driveway.

  “I do too. Thank you so much. I love you, Tony.” She was emotional, but he didn’t notice.

  “I love you, too,” he said, distracted, wanting to get inside. “Careful getting out.”

  He took the bags of food and she had the tray of coffee cups.

  “You’re really pregnant,” he said, checking out her belly.

  “That’s what they tell me. I went to the doctor last night and set up an ultrasound for your day off.”

  Unlocking the door took some concentration, but when he succeeded and pushed it open, placing the food on a card table in the living room near the window so they’d have light, he finally paused and looked right at her. “You never told me you went to the doctor.”

  “I just forgot I had the appointment, to tell you the truth. I had to make a death run to get there on time after work.”

  They left their coats on because it was still chilly inside, the sun not out under the gloom of clouds.

  “How’d it go?” he was busy laying out their food on paper napkins, opening coffee and adding creamer just the way she liked it. Here was her opportunity to tell him.

  “I do have some news.”

  “What kind of news? Are you having twins?” He chuckled.

  “No, I’m not having twins. Will you please sit? I don’t want to have this conversation standing up. The baby is healthy; she’s got a great heart. But there is a problem.”

  “What problem?”

  When she didn’t answer right away and even in the dark house it was clear the color had drained from her face, Tony grabbed her arms, holding her close, looking into her eyes. “Bridget, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

  “There is a high probability, or so the computer says, that she has trisomy 21, or Down syndrome.”

  He slowly let go of her, a tic in his jaw making it clear he’d heard, and he was processing it. All the energy she had, all the resolve to be positive for Tony’s sake, flew out of her body at the moment, and she pulled a chair over to sit.

  He walked through the living room, poking at piles of lumber, flipping switches that had no power, finally responding, “How are you?”

  “I’m fine physically. Emotionally I wish I were dead. I have no idea what to expect. I spent time on the internet last night reading blogs about what parents feel when they get the diagnosis, and no one jumps for joy.”

  “What does it mean for the baby? I mean, besides the physical appearance difference? That I can cope with.”

  “No one knows until she’s born. Her heart was fine at ten weeks. We’ll see it again on Monday. I just hope she’s not going to die.”

  “Is that an issue?” he asked, suddenly frightened.

  “It could be. I still have twelve weeks to go. The moment they made the determination she could have Down, it became a high-risk pregnancy.”

  The realization that they could lose their child hit Tony like a medicine ball to the face, and he winced, falling to his knees in front of her. He buried his face in her lap and pulled up her sweater to expose her skin, his hands on her belly, and began to sob. She kept running her fingers through his hair, listening to him wail, wishing she could join in. It wasn’t to be. Numb beyond belief, there were no words. It was what it was.

  “We have to take one day at a time, Tony. I’m not sure I’ll survive this otherwise.” />
  “Oh God,” he cried. “Oh God!”

  It was exactly what she’d felt, but she couldn’t put it into words. Swirling in her head were the unimportant but, according to the blog she’d read, real issues that had to be dealt with. They had to tell people the diagnosis, friends and family. They couldn’t isolate themselves. That would be the worst thing. She was so pissed off at everyone. It was irrational, but she couldn’t help it. The biggest fear was they’d pity her. Pity would be intolerable.

  He reached for a paper napkin on the table and stood up to blow his nose. “Come here,” he said, pulling her up from the chair, embracing her. She felt his body shaking. Bending down, he kissed her belly, pulling her sweater up again and her pants down so he could feel her skin, and like magic, the little baby began to roll around.

  “I love her so much. I’ll do anything to make sure she’s going to be alright. I’m scared though. How will we take care of her?”

  “Gloria at the doctor’s office said she’ll be exactly like caring for Flynn. Down syndrome is a spectrum disorder. We won’t know where her abilities fall right away. We’ll read up on potential problems, and it’s crucial we take it one day at a time, like I said.”

  “I can’t wait to get the ultrasound now,” he said, starting to calm down. “At least if we can be reassured that she’s healthy, it will make the rest of it easier to cope with.”

  “I hope so.”

  Holding her in his arms, waves of despair competed with overwhelming love. “This is what I’ve always wanted.”

  She pulled back from his embrace to scan their house, which had been burned and flooded, and now with news that their daughter had Down syndrome, she figured she was missing something. But he continued explaining himself.

  “You, this house, Flynn and our baby, this is what I’ve longed for. Not exactly like my family with the problems my mom had, but better. It sort of fell into my lap. I didn’t have to do anything to get you, you made it so easy for me, and little Flynn, he’s the love of my life. Now our house is rising from the ashes like a phoenix. I feel so hopeful.”

  “I’ve read that’s normal after the news. You swing back and forth between despair and promise.”