Part Twenty Nine: The Angel



"Come on, Gaele, Daddy's waiting to take you to school," Rahab called up the stairs. She waited, until she heard her daughter's footsteps running down the hall, and Rahab headed back to the kitchen, to pick up her cup of tea before it got cold. She could hear the impatient horn of Mike's car.

"Bye, Mom!" Gaele dashed out the door, her neon-purple backpack trailing behind her by one strap.

"Bye, hun, have a good day, love ya!"

Seth was sitting quietly in his high chair, pouring the juice out of his sip-cup onto the tray and tracing designs in the puddle with a damp graham cracker. He talked softly to himself, and glanced up to see if his mother was watching. She picked him up and cleaned him off, and set him down in his playpen in the family room, where Devon was squatting on the floor only inches from the TV set, with a rapt expression on his face, watching Mr. Rogers tie his shoes. Rahab set her tea on a side table, dragged the oblivious Devon farther back, and sat on the couch behind him to watch the rest of the show. What was it about that program, she wondered, that could capture the attention of small children, without loud noises, flashy colors, and action, action, action? Raphael would probably have a fit if he knew his boy was a Mr. Rogers fan...

The memory of Raphael disturbed her. She had not seen him in over a year and a half, the last she'd heard from him was the day the divorce had been finalized. No... she had not really heard from him then, only seen his name scrawled and dated in the proper places of the legal papers. Other than that, nothing. Zip. You'd think he would have called her to see how she was doing after her harrowing experience, but no one heard a thing from him. It was like he dropped out of existance.

Rahab sighed and closed her eyes. She ran her hands over her distended abdomen, as she felt the baby turn over inside her. Not quite as active as Devon or even Seth, but he -or she- sure liked to kick. If it's a girl, I'll name her Riahna, Rahab thought. Mike liked that name. She couldn't decide on a boy's name. With Devon and Seth, she couldn't think of girl's names... so, it must be a girl, this time. Strange how it worked out that way. It looked as though Mike was slated to be the father of girls, but he didn't seem to mind that in the least. He didn't seem to mind anything, since they were married. Neither did Rahab.

Though she had decided to leave Don's house in Mojave for the only slightly humbler residence of Mike's in Beverly Hills, Don still sent her an allowance for Devon's child support, on Raphael's behalf. Again the thought of Raphael clouded her mind. Where was he, and what was he doing? It was just as well, he clearly wanted to be alone, and that was that. She tried to think of something else, but her thoughts swirled gently around like windblown feathers. She might have had some good effective treatment for her trauma and depression, and her hearing was nearly back to normal, but it still didn't solve some of the outside problems that plagued her. She still couldn't help but worry.

Mike poked his head through the entryway between the kitchen and family room. "Hey lady madonna, children at your feet, how's it going this fi-ine morning?" She looked up, and saw he was grinning broadly.

"You're back already," she said absently.

"Well, yeah. The school's only at the bottom of the hill, you could heave a baseball from here and it will land on the back playground."

Rahab laughed a little. "You mean, YOU could. So, it looks as though Gaele's adjusting all right, she seems very enthusiastic about going every day, doesn't she?"

Mike slung himself down on the couch beside her. "Sure, why not? The kids seem to be accepting her okay. Maybe it's that naturally sweet, outgoing disposition of hers that helps them forget her physical differences, or maybe the ones who are bigoted are scared to death of me, and nobody dares to give her a hard time. Orrr..." he drawled, " It might have to do with the fact I bought the school a whole slew of fancy new playground equipment."

"Money talks," Rahab said, sighing.

"That's what Don always says."

They were silent a while, and Rahab noticed Mike was watching her. "What?"

"Something wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Yeah. You're kinda quiet today. I was just wondering if anything was wrong."

Rahab shrugged. "Nothing's wrong, Mike."

Mike leaned toward her and gave her a lingering kiss on the side of her mouth, then noticed Seth was watching him in that quiet, sober way of his, from the confines of the playpen. "So, when's the sitter show up?"

"Nine thirty, I think, why?"

Mike gave her a slow smile. "Oh, I dunno, maybe you and I could spend the morning together, maybe fool around some? I don't have to be anywhere until after Gaele gets home, and then I gotta go see my accountant, do my taxes, and all that boring stuff."

"I'm feeling a little uncomfortable today, Mike. The baby's sitting sideways again."

"Oh." Mike straightened up, and looked at the TV. "Ah, geez, not Barney again," he muttered under his breath. "How can you watch that, unless you have an IQ of about four?"

Devon leaned back and looked at Mike upside down, then rotated onto his elbows to look at him right side up, with a miniature replica of one of Raph's stock expressions.

"No offense, big guy, I meant you have to be at least four and under to understand this stuff," Mike said, giving Devon's head a gentle Dutch rub.

Devon laid his hands on his head and rolled out of reach. "Don't," he grumbled. He got up on his knees and squinted at Mike. Mike squinted back, until Devon's dimples deepened, and he guffawed. "Yer silly, daddy," he chirruped, and then turned to gaze back at the TV.

Mike stared at him a moment, then shrugged, and got up. "You want anything, babe?"

Rahab gave Mike a quick smile and shook her head.

"Hey, you know what? I got a call this morning, and it turns out one of the bands I'm promoting is up for a Grammy," Mike said, when he came back from the kitchen. "Best Metal Group, or something like that."

Rahab, mesmerized by the TV, nodded absently. "Uh huh." When she finally focused on him, he was staring at her unhappily. "I'm sorry, Mike. What were you saying? You're going to get the best metal group?"

"Never mind, you probably weren't interested anyway," Mike muttered, and turned his attention to his coffee.

Rahab winced at a sudden twinge, and rubbed her abdomen again.

Mike was looking. "What was that," he asked kindly.

"I think I got pinched, from the inside."

Mike barked in sudden laughter, and Rahab felt the baby jump.

"For heaven's sake, Mike! You're scaring her!"

"Sorry. Hey, how do you know it's a her?" Mike lay his free hand on her belly.

Rahab relaxed a little. "I don't know," she sighed. "I just keep calling her, a her."

"Hmm." Mike ran his hand over the curve of her abdomen. "Lemme see, that's her head on this end, and her butt over here, and this..." he pressed the palm of his hand a little into her side. "This must be a foot." The foot pushed hard, and he tapped his finger on the resulting lump. The foot withdrew, then kicked. He snickered a little. "It's never too early to start training 'em, huh?"

"Ho, very funny. There, how do YOU like being poked?" Rahab nudged Mike in the ribs with a knuckle, causing him to snort and grab her hand. "Hm, ticklish, are we?"

"I take it this is foreplay," Mike said in her ear.

"Maybe not," Rahab said coyly.

"Why not?" Mike lifted the hem of her shift and tickled her knee.

"Mike, not in front of the kids!" Rahab pretended to be indignant.

"They're not even watching, they're into that big purple spud on TV," Mike murmured. He kissed the side of her neck.

"Seth's watching..."

Mike looked past her at Seth, and grinned at him. "Hey, whatchoo lookin'at, Spiderdude?"

Seth didn't move. He just stood, chin resting against the top railing of his playpen, and stared in wide-eyed innocence at them.

Rahab laughed. "Spiderdude?"

Mike looked at her in a display of caution. "Well, you never know. Remember when Gaele got out, and took off on me that time? Didn't YOU hit the ceiling."

"Oh! Yes! Geez, Mike, I'm glad you mentioned that. He's already taken off on me once, and that was over a year ago. Gonna have to keep an eye on him." Rahab got up, leaning against the arm of the sofa and Mike's shoulder for support. "What a stinking crazy time that was... hey, isn't that the doorbell?"

When Mike didn't answer, Rahab looked at him.

"Mike," Rahab repeated, but Mike seemed to be in some sort of trance. "HEY! Wake up, somebody's at the door!" Rahab nudged Mike in the arm with her foot, causing him to jump up suddenly and spill his coffee on the carpet.

He took a deep breath, and stared at her.

"Somebody's- at- the- door," she enunciated slowly as she pointed.

Mike looked around and seemed to shake himself, then went to open the door. A young, red haired woman in a black leotard top and jeans was standing outside, and her bright smile faded when she saw Mike. "Did I come on the wrong day," she asked timidly, as Mike stared at her.

Rahab waved at her from behind Mike. "Hi, Adria. No, you've come just in time. Mike, could you please move, so she can come in?"

Mike stepped back. "Hey! How'd the auditions go," he asked in sudden friendliness, as Adria passed.

"Oh, they went okay, I have to wait to hear back from the agency, though," Adria said cheerfully as she set her leather backpack-style purse down. "You know how it is, I'm up against about three hundred other wannabee starlets, and some of them are pretty talented."

"But do any of them have your Titian tresses? I have never seen hair quite that shade of red before..." Mike said.

Adria giggled shyly at his compliment. "Thanks to my mother, and her Celtic lineage... but unless they are specifically looking for a carrot top with matching freckles, I'll have to wait in line with all those tawny blondes and brunettes." She self-consciously ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth the spirals that constantly escaped her long french braid.

"Well, there's ways around all that, y'know," Mike drawled as he watched her appreciatively. "It's called the casting couch. You'd be surprised how many big names in Hollywood worked their way up... on their backs-"

"Mike," Rahab interrupted, hands on her hips in annoyance.

"Hey, I was just kidding around," he said to Rahab innocently. "Besides, Adria's gotta develop a thick skin, if she wants to get involved with that lewd, crude and socially acceptable Hollywood crowd. I was just giving her some pointers, you know, based on experience."

"REALLY," Rahab asked in mock surprise, as she gave Mike another warning look. She smiled at Adria, who looked a little embarrassed. "Don't mind him, he didn't mean anything by it. He enjoys the sound of his own voice."

Mike gave Rahab a wry look, and stalked upstairs.

When Rahab went up to the bedroom, she found Mike sprawled on his back in the center of the unmade bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't seem to notice her, as she laid out her clothes and went in to take a shower. A few minutes later, he stuck his head through the shower door.

"Mind if I join you," he asked in exaggerated politeness.

"As long as you behave yourself," Rahab said smoothly.

"Yeah, right..." Mike said under his breath, as he stepped inside with her.

"At this rate, I'm not going to get much done, today," Rahab said, as she stretched and yawned, after waking up from a nap.

Mike, who was dozing beside her, opened his eyes a little. He made a little noise of vague agreement, and closed them again.

"Geez, Mike, you sure have become lazy lately." Rahab commented with a little smirk, as she nudged him in the flank.

"Lemme alone, I'm resting up," he finally murmered, and stretched a little. "When that little misogynist pops out, there ain't gonna be much sleep round here."

Rahab got up on her elbows. "Did you say misogynist?"

Mike yawned. "I meant... miscreant..."

"MIScreant? Mike, try not to open your mouth when your brain is out of gear, will you? You might end up with something stuck in it."

"Uhm. Sorry."

"Go back to sleep, and start over, okay?" Rahab rolled over to lower her feet to the floor.

"Where'r YOU goin'?" He reached out and grasped her tail so she couldn't stand up.

"Let go, unless you want me to have an accident on you..."

Mike sniggered. "ThAT would be interesting."

"You are sick," Rahab muttered, as she made her way to the bathroom. "SICK, sick, sick."

She could hear him still laughing quietly in the bedroom, and she giggled a little, as she thought of something clever to say in response, when a powerful cramp made her gasp. She clamped down on a yell of pain, as she doubled over where she was sitting. When the cramp subsided, she stood slowly, her legs trembling, feeling vaguely nauseated. The realization swept over her, as she stared stupidly into space. Mike had asked her something, but she didn't trust herself to answer. She walked slowly into the bedroom, to see Mike sitting up in bed, staring at her.

"I said, are you okay?" he asked.

"My water broke," she said calmly, as though it were a casual observation.

"Oh," Mike said, then his mouth opened. "Wait, what does it mean?" He seemed to become more animated, as he scrambled out of bed. "Uh, no, babe- I'll- let me..." he grabbed the robe from the chair as she reached for it, and helped her put it on. "Here, sit down."

"I don't want to sit down," Rahab protested weakly, as Mike helped her back to the bed. "Really, Mike, I'm okay, I want to walk."

Mike relented, but his firm grip stayed on her upper arm. "I dunno, Rahab, I thought you were supposed to have this kid at the end of next month."

Rahab nodded mutely. "She's not turned, Mike. I'm feeling kind of... scared."

"What do you mean she's not turned? Who's not turned?"

"The baby."

"What do you mean?"

"She's not turned, Mike. She's... sideways."

"What- what does that mean?"

"Mike, you sound like a bad CD. Just calm down," Rahab snapped. "And stop squeezing my arm! No, give it to me," she added, when she saw him go to the nightstand and pick up the cellular phone. "I'll speak to the midwife, you won't make any sense."

He handed it to her, and she pressed the dial code. Before she could talk, another contraction rendered her speechless.

Mike helped her to the bed, as he talked rapidly into the phone. He looked down at her, his eyes wide with concern. When he hung up, she was able to sit up again. "Mike, calm down. Please."

"Okay, I'm calm," Mike said quickly, holding up a hand. Rahab grabbed it, and clenched it tight, as another contraction came.

"Too fast," she muttered when the pain subsided. "She has nowhere to go..."

"I don't understand, it's not supposed to happen like this," she heard Mike mutter.

She remembered little after that, it seemed the hours dragged past, and nothing happened except nearly unbearable pain. Everything was pain.



When she was aware of anything else, it was all very dark, and strange. Nothing looked familiar, she couldn't figure out where she was, or how she got there. She heard a gentle rhythmic clicking, that came from over her head, and she saw red numbers on black, changing, measuring something. The glint of something silver reflected a light coming from around a door that was not quite closed. She smelled something plastic and medicinal, and freshly laundered sheets. She felt something taped on the back of her hand, and grumbled, as she tried to pluck it off. It stuck fast, and she gave up with a sigh.

She heard someone else sigh and stir nearby, and focused on the dark hulk of a chair, in the corner of the little room. She stared in curiousity, but her eyelids seemed to close on their own.

A noise woke her again, and she saw the room was now dimly lit. A nurse was standing by her bed, holding a hand over her chest, as she looked at the chair in the corner. "Oh, Mr. Angelo, you SCARED me... I didn't know you were there."

Mr. Angelo? Rahab stared curiously at Mike stretched out in the recliner. He grinned sleepily at the nurse. "S'aright," he said quietly. "I'm always doing that to people."

The nurse then turned to Rahab, and seeing she was awake, smiled gently at her. "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Angelo?"

Rahab heard Mike snort softly in amusement, as he lay and grinned at Rahab, and when the nurse had finished her checkup duty and left, he peeled himself out of the chair and sat on the edge of her bed, and tweaked her foot. "Hey, Mrs. Angelo," he said, and sniggered. "Glad to see you're still with us..." his grin faded. "You almost gave ME heart failure."

"Sorry," Rahab managed to say, and smiled a little at him.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. The expression on his face filled her with sorrow.

"Where's the baby," she whispered.

"She's, uh, Riahna's in the other room, they're keeping an eye on her... she's gonna be okay, though. She's small, but she's solidly packed. They said she hollered quite a bit, and she's gotta grip like-"

"I want to see her..."

"Well, they have to keep an eye on her."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing," Mike answered quickly. "She's okay, I told you, but she's small, and they just want to keep her warm, and make sure she's getting enough fluids, and is breathing okay. She'll be okay."

"Riahna... poor little Riahna, so impatient to get out... what happened?"

Mike slumped a little. "It was getting kinda rough, so they decided to do a c-section, and it's a good thing they did, because she had her uh, cord wrapped around her neck, but they got her straightened out before anything went wrong." He fell silent, and hastily wiped his eyes on his forearm.

Rahab didn't have the strength to reply, she reached out for Mike, and he rested his head next to hers on the pillow. She lay her hand across his neck, and feeling comforted by the nearness of him, fell back into sleep.



When Rahab recovered enough strength to sit up, they brought the infant in a portable incubator, so Rahab could get a good look at her. Riahna lay on her side, looking like a miniature Gaele. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her tiny fists curled up under her chin as though to challenge anyone who might disturb her sleep.

"She's so tiny," Rahab whispered to Mike.

"She's perfect," Mike said softly in return. His mouth was curled slightly up at the corners in a smile. "What a little beauty she's gonna be, huh? I guess I'll have to hold them off with a shotgun when she's of age..."

Rahab smiled up at him. "Old dad..."

Mike laughed a little. "I was kinda upset that I couldn't be with you when they got her out, but I guess it doesn't matter, now. Just as well, I think I woulda passed out and missed the whole thing, anyway."

"You? Pass out?"

"Hey, when Doctor Whatzhisface mentioned C-section, I zoned. Then I found myself sitting in a chair all alone in some doctor's office. Wierd, huh?"

"That IS wierd," Rahab said.

To her pleasant surprise, Rahab found Riahna was able to leave the hospital with her, because she was doing so well.

"She IS solid..." Rahab commented to Mike as she took the tiny bundle out of her incubator to feed her. Riahna writhed and squawked loudly, until Rahab was able to get her situated enough to nurse. Rahab grimaced when Riahna slammed a foot into her tender abdomen. "Aah, now's she's pounding me from the outside."

"Pretty feisty for someone with legs no bigger 'round than a pencil," Mike said affectionately, as he stroked the baby between the eyes. The movement seemed to relax her, and she stopped her kicking.

"How are the other kids," Rahab asked when Riahna was quiet.

Mike grinned at her. "I guess I don't have to tell you how much Gaele's champing at the bit to see her teensy-tiny sister, but I told her she had to wait until things calm down."

"When I put Riahna into her little lucite bassinet, then Gaele can come in and have a peek."

"You talk with such poetry, m'dear," Mike said with an affected accent. "Little lucite bassinet... hmmm. More lyrics."

"How much sleep have you had lately," Rahab asked in mild amusement. "You sure get silly, when you are overtired."

"Yeah, the folks at the studio threw a party for me last night, so I'll say my sleep was nil."

"Oh, wonderful. With all the stuff you had to do today?"

"Ah, come on, they were happy for me."

"Happy to have an excuse for a party, you mean."

Mike shrugged expansively. "Whateh-ver."

"Then maybe this would be a good time for you to get some sleep."

"I can't sleep now, besides, Gaele won't let me rest until she's seen the baby."

"All right, then let her come in and see the baby," Rahab said, holding Riahna over her shoulder to bring the air up.

"What, you're not gonna put her in the incubator?"

"I'll put her in the incubator, just relax."

"RELAX? Hey, you're not the one who had to sit and wait around, while they were slicing you OPEN," Mike snapped.

Rahab opened her mouth in surprise. "Mi-ike."

Mike slumped apologetically. "Sorry, kinda stressed out, I guess."

"You're getting hyper, again."

"Yeah, I know. I need to get away for a while."

"You need to get some SLEEP," Rahab pressed him, as she lay the drowsy infant in the incubator.

When Mike let Gaele in, she pressed her snout against the plastic side of the incubator, her eyes wide in wonder. Mike sank into the nearest armchair and fidgited, while Gaele chirped questions at him in rapid succession. Rahab watched Mike's face, feeling a growing concern that he was going to lose his patience with Gaele.

"Ah, honey, we all are very tired, and need some rest, now. Why don't you go downstairs and see Adrienne?" she said gently to her daughter.

"I want to hold the baby," Gaele protested.

"The baby isn't ready for that, hon. The doctor said she has to spend a lot of time in the incubator to keep warm and comfortable. When she's a bit bigger..."

Gaele groaned, until she caught Mike's eye, then she lowered her head and silently left the room. Mike promptly followed her out.

"You going to sleep?"

"Yep," Mike said in the hallway, then Rahab heard the master bedroom door close.

Next section... Rahab 30

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