by C. M. Newman
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: AWAKENING
Angela showed up around six-thirty laden down with a briefcase, purse, shopping bags, and the travel coffee mug she’d pilfered a couple mornings ago; she hadn’t given it back yet and didn’t plan to.
“Can we eat now?” Charlie pleaded from the dinner table, where he waited patiently next to Jenna, already holding his silverware.
“Hold your horses,” Vince said, taking some luggage off Angela’s hands and wishing they had just a second to themselves. But family was waiting with growling stomachs. “Hi,” he said shortly to her before wrapping her up in his arms.
“Hi,” she murmured back pleasantly, returning the embrace. “You didn’t have to wait for me to eat.”
“Mitch just finished cooking. Charlie’s just a little impatient.” Vince took a long moment to sweep broad circles over Angela’s back. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said only loudly enough for her to hear.
“Me too,” she whispered as she drew back. Even if three hungry people were waiting for them, she couldn’t go without quietly reminding him how she felt. “I love you.”
Vince’s eyes smiled when he returned the declaration. He decided as well that everyone else could wait another moment and lay a prolonged, tender kiss on her lips. It warmed him from head to toe, melting his anxiety away, and did much the same for her.
That was all they required for the time being. “World’s best meatloaf and baked potatoes for dinner. Sound good?” Vince asked.
“Sounds delicious, but to be honest, I’d eat anything you put in front of me right now.”
Dinner consisted mostly of the scraping of silverware against dishes, Mitch explaining that the meatloaf would have been better if he’d sprung for more expensive beef, and Charlie picking around the ingredients he didn’t like. Vince hoped that the evening would afford Jenna and Angela an opportunity to get to know each other. Jenna already knew Mitch a little better from family events over the years.
However, no one seemed interested in very deep conversation. Vince could tell Angela had her eye on Jenna, though, that the gears were turning in her head, trying to come up with a topic that might interest both of them. Angela even gave Vince a short look of despair at one point.
“Jenna,” Mitch asked, sensing the need for a conversation, “are you still doing that legal transcribing stuff?”
She nodded as she combed her long fingers through Charlie’s hair. “Yeah, medical too. Ever since I got out of college. I just started it to make some money until I found a real job,” she said, making quotation gestures with her fingers. “Not sure why I bothered with college, really. I like this. I knew I got into it for a reason. It gives me time to be with this little guy whenever he needs me,” she added, leaning to the side and placing a kiss on Charlie’s forehead.
“As much as I love what I do, it would be nice if I could somehow do it in my pajamas,” Angela said dolefully. “Even one day a week.”
“Yeah, but even with as much as you miss out on, you still like it. Vince always did,” Jenna said with a smooth smile.
“Well, yeah, of course,” Angela agreed, not sounding so sure of herself. Truth be told, though, it was Jenna of whom she wasn’t so sure. She decided not to read into her comment.
“You’ve been managing to avoid the late hours lately, it looks like,” Jenna said to Angela. “How is that?”
“Well, I’ve been cutting back on the social interaction at work and getting more done so I don’t have to stay late and do busy work.”
“No cases?” Jenna asked.
“Had one last week. They come when they come,” Angela said with a shrug.
Mitch, noting that everyone had finished, save for Charlie, who never would, clapped his hands once. “How about we make Frankie’s cake? We can make some extra batter for cupcakes and have those for dessert. How does that sound?”
Charlie’s ears perked at the mention of dessert. He knew he had to at least eat a substantial amount of his dinner before he would be allowed dessert, though.
“I actually need to get going,” Jenna said. “I’m dog-sitting for my neighbors and he needs to be let outside. Thanks for dinner, Mitch, it was great.”
“Oh, no problem. Glad you liked it…”
Jenna didn’t wait for Vince to get up and walk her out. She was gone fast enough for the remaining adults to be puzzled upon the closing of the door.
“Cake!” Mitch said to break the tension. “Just a warning, I might make good meatloaf, but I mess up every cake I ever touch.”
“It’s a cake, Mitch,” Vince said flatly. “The directions are on the box. Charlie could probably make it. Buddy, go wash your hands and help your uncle.”
Angela remained at the table with Vince, happily taking the opportunity to have a semi-private moment with him. “Want seconds?” she asked while she let her fingers scratch the back of his neck.
“Nah, I’m not that hungry, really.”
“Is it your stomach?” she asked. “Are you feeling nauseous?”
“I was earlier but I took a pill. It’s not nausea. It’s just…I don’t know, I’m not hungry,” Vince said with a resigned shrug.
“I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately,” Angela admitted quietly. “Five minutes here and there, but it adds up.”
“Reading about what?” Vince asked.
“Pancreatic cancer…chemo…all of it,” Angela said. “Losing your appetite is really common. You might have to cut back on some stuff that can irritate your stomach.”
Vince nodded. “I know. I’m just in denial, I guess. I don’t want this feeling to be from the cancer or the treatment. I want it to be…me not being hungry for a night, for no particular reason.”
“Well, maybe it is. But if it keeps up, it might help to cut back on the coffee and switch your pain meds. And eat a little here and there when you want to. And if that doesn’t help, go on an appetite stimulant.”
“You have been doing your research,” Vince said, impressed but not shocked in the least.
“It’s the only thing I can do that gives me any sort of control over this. I mean…I can’t take away the illness, but I can learn about how to manage it. I have a couple books if you’d like to check them out.”
“They’re probably the same ones I have, but it’s worth a shot.”
Angela nodded. “They’re in my briefcase.”
Vince stared off into space for a time, picturing Angela sitting in her bed late at night, buried under a pile of books with a notepad in her lap, circling, flagging, highlighting, taking notes. The picture didn’t seem off to him at all. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re taking this approach, you know.”
“An affinity for reading combined with a need to know everything about everything,” Angela said with a soft laugh. “Want to wrap Frankie’s presents or help with her cake?”
“Presents? Plural? I hope you didn’t go overboard. She implied money’s kind of tight at home. I wouldn’t want to show her parents up or anything,” Vince said anxiously.
“I just wanted to cover all my bases. I got her a book in case she’s a reader and a little handheld video game player if she’s not. Nothing expensive.”
—
“I wanna do the frosting,” Charlie said. “How do you spell Frannie?”
“It’s Frankie, buddy,” Vince corrected him. “F-R-A-N-K-I-E.”
“That’s a weird name for a girl,” his son replied. “Let’s do the frosting.”
“Relax, kiddo, we’ve gotta wait till the cake cools,” Mitch said. “Give it a little while longer.”
“Actually, it’s almost bedtime, Charlie,” Vince said.
“But I’m not going to school tomorrow,” Charlie replied. “Can I stay up?”
Vince sighed. “A little longer.”
“Long enough to do the frosting?” Charlie asked eagerly.
“Sure,” Mitch said. “It’s just you and me tomorrow, kid. What do you wanna do? Wanna go see a movie?”
Charl
ie nodded with enthusiasm. “Can we get pizza for lunch?”
“You bet.”
Angela looked to Vince to see whether the spoiling bothered him. “He’s not here much,” Vince reasoned to her in a low voice. “Can’t hurt, I guess. I don’t like him missing school, though.”
“It’s just a day,” Angela said. “Nice job on the wrapping, by the way,” she noted, picking up Frankie’s perfectly wrapped book. “You’re a pro.”
Vince grinned before the first yawn of the evening came along. “Oh, come on, it’s not even eight,” he muttered.
“Well, it was only one yawn,” Angela said consolingly. “What time do we need to leave in the morning, by the way?”
“Eight-thirty. Want to meet here or at the hospital?”
“I’ll come get you.”
“What color frosting?” Mitch yelled from the kitchen.
Vince looked to Angela. “Green?”
“Yeah, that’s probably safe,” she said, going into the kitchen to make sure the boys didn’t ruin the cake.
Vince eyed the coffeemaker longingly as he slowly drifted off to the garbled sounds of Mitch, Charlie, and Angela working on the frosting together. He told them he was going to sit on the couch and maybe take a catnap. No one argued. He knew Angela was refraining from jumping for joy over him listening to his body for once.
“He asleep?” Mitch asked to no one in particular twenty minutes later. He was putting a base coat of frosting on while Charlie and Angela piped practice letters on the back of the cookie sheet.
Angela stepped silently into the living room and peeked over the back of the couch. Vince lay asleep with a throw pillow tucked under his head, but he wasn’t snoring yet. She hated to wake him, but she knew if he slept on the couch, he’d regret it in the morning. She touched his shoulder timidly, but didn’t get anything. “Vince,” she almost whispered. “Sweetie…”
Vince drew in a sharp, loud breath and rolled onto his back. “Huhhh…What time is it?” he mumbled.
“Almost nine,” she answered. “Why don’t you go to bed? We’ll get Charlie showered and tucked in and all that. Get some sleep somewhere that won’t kill your back.”
Much to Angela’s surprise, Vince didn’t put up a fight. He simply sat up and rubbed his bleary eyes. “Yeah. I think I will. You sure you’ve got everything under control?”
“Of course.”
Vince suppressed a groan as he got up and circled around the back of the couch. “All right. Love you.” He almost missed Angela’s lips when he kissed her.
“I love you, too. Hey Charlie, better come say goodnight to your dad.”
“I get to stay up later than you?” came Charlie’s astonished cry.
Vince crouched down. “Yup. I’m tired. You have to listen to Uncle Mitch and Angela, though. You need to take a shower and brush your teeth before bed, and no whining when it’s time, okay?”
Charlie nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Question,” Mitch asked once Charlie was in the shower.
“Hmm?” Angela said, wondering if her frosted k looked enough like a k.
“Does Charlie like pancakes or waffles more? I was thinking of doing a big breakfast tomorrow.”
Angela shrugged. “I’m not here in the mornings, so I have no idea. I think there’s a waffle iron in one of the cabinets though. That might be telling. You just have to watch what Vince eats, though. That’s all pure sugar. Oh, no…” Angela hissed and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “He never took his insulin.”
“Gonna wake him up?”
“Why me?” Angela asked.
“You’re the one who went to the doctor with him and knows about his meds. Think you can just stick him in his sleep?”
Angela laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like a great plan. He needs to test his blood sugar, too. He’s going to kill me. All this harping on him to go to sleep and I keep waking him up.”
“You woke him up from his nap today, too, he said. Something about a bunch of text messages when you were at the mall shopping for birthday presents.”
“He should dump me,” she muttered. “But I really don’t know enough about it yet to risk letting him go without it. Wish me luck.”
She turned on Vince’s bathroom light, giving herself enough to work with.
“Please don’t kill me,” she said softly, leaning over by Vince’s side of the bed, where he lay sound asleep under the heavy bedding and even an extra blanket. “Vince?” she rubbed his shoulder until his eyes snapped awake and he groaned.
“What now?” he asked with surprising clarity.
“I’m sorry, but you never checked your blood sugar or took your insulin. That might be why you were so tired. Your blood sugar probably spiked from the potatoes or something.”
“Is me being tired…a problem…when I’m in bed?” Vince said with a couple of yawns as he sat up.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know enough about this to know if it’s okay for you to skip it. I got a book about diabetes management while I was at the mall tonight. I’ll be reading that, too.”
Angela sat on the edge of the bed that Vince abandoned and watched helplessly as he padded over to the bathroom and took care of business. She heard the click of him pricking his finger and wondered how long he would actually remain compliant with that portion of things once he got the hang of how his body reacted to what he put in it. After that came the clicks of two different insulin pens. He shut the bathroom light off on his way out, not missing a step in the dark. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”
“I’m really sorry,” Angela said with a saddened laugh, rubbing Vince’s back. “Mitch said my texts woke you up this afternoon, too.”
“It’s okay,” Vince said through another monstrous yawn. “I’m not upset. Just tired. But thanks for remembering the insulin. I’ll have to put a reminder on my phone or something…”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Angela said. She stood so Vince could get back under the covers. “Charlie’s almost ready for bed. I’m going to take off soon. Goodnight, again. Love you.”
“Mmhmm,” Vince mumbled before he started to drift off again.
“Is Daddy still up?” Charlie asked, coming out of the bathroom in his pajamas.
“He just went back to sleep. I was a big meanie and made him wake up to take his medicine. It’s time for you to go to bed now.”
“Angela?” Charlie said as he crawled under the covers.
“Yeah?” she replied, sitting at the edge of his bed.
“It’s eight months till my birthday.”
“Oh, wow, it’s, uh…coming up pretty fast, isn’t it?”
Charlie’s face remained straight. “What if Daddy’s in heaven before my birthday?”
Angela’s mouth fell open in dismay. “Oh…well…”
“Can I still have a birthday party?”
She smiled, warm with relief. “Of course you can still have a birthday party.”
“But if Daddy’s in heaven already, he can’t come.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure he’ll be watching you eat cake and…open your presents…he’ll be there in spirit…but I’ll tell you what.”
“What?”
“Your birthday is in…October, right?” Charlie nodded. “That means your half-birthday is in April, which is only two months from now. How about we plan on having a half-birthday party?”
“Can we have blue frosting on the cake?”
Angela tousled Charlie’s wet hair with his towel, then instantly combed it back into place with her fingers. “We can have whatever color frosting you want. But it’s time for you to go to bed now. I’ll tell your uncle you’re waiting.”
