They Come by Night

As always, this is for Bob, who empties the dishwasher, folds the laundry, picks up takeout, runs the vacuum over the carpet, takes the car for an oil change, makes the coffee, waters the plants, and does the decorating since I was obviously behind the door when God handed out that particular gene.

And to my sons: Bobby, who filled in all the Mortuary Science blanks, and Joey, who came up with the name of an actress a young man would find drool-worthy. I’m glad I never sold either of you to the gypsies.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

It’s taken me six years to finish this and get it out there, and I’d like to thank the friends who offered help and support along the way: Tracy Nagurski, Tim Mead, Tony, Trish, and most especially Gail Morse. We did it, gang!

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I

D
R
. V
ARGAS came bustling into the delivery room. “And how are we doing?” he asked, a little too cheerfully.

Magdalena Small caught her breath and glared at him. “I don’t know how you’re doing,” she snapped, “but I’m ready to tear off Ben’s testicles and shove them down his throat if he ever comes near me again!”

“Oh… ah…. Ha-ha,” Dr. Vargas laughed weakly. He didn’t seem to know if she was making a joke or being serious.

“I’m not joking!”

“I know, sweetheart.” Her husband stood beside her. He was a tall, dark-haired man who was so good-looking the only surprise would have been if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Ben took her hand and stroked it. “And I promise, I’ll never touch you again.”

She turned her glare on him, about to snarl he’d better not be making fun of her, when another contraction hit her.

“All right, Mrs. Small, you can push now.”

She didn’t waste her breath saying it was about damn time. She began to push.

“The head is crowning! Ah, a caul. Let me just make a couple of openings so he can breathe. Your son is going to be very lucky!”

They’d had an ultrasound and knew this baby was a boy. They even had a name all picked out: Tyrell, after a character in one of Ben’s favorite books. She’d decided she could let him have this, since she’d named their other children—the oldest three given good, solid names from the Bible, and little Bethany named for Maggie’s own beloved mother, who she’d lost a few years before she’d met Ben.

“Stop pushing!” Vargas’s voice suddenly became sharp. “The cord’s wrapped around his throat!”

“Ben!” Magdalena gritted her teeth and then panted through the urge to push.

He slid an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Okay, I’ve got it!” Dr. Vargas exclaimed. He could be excited, the quack; he wasn’t trying to push a basketball through a keyhole. “Now, give me another push.”

And just like that, the intolerable pressure eased off as the baby slipped out of her and began wailing his head off.

“Let me just peel off the caul. And… here we go. Do you want us to preserve it for you?”

“No. Yes….” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“I’ll take care of it, Doctor.” Who…? Oh, that must be one of the nurses.

“What a crop of curls! No wonder you had such morning sickness.” Did he have to sound so happy about it? “Here’s your son, Mrs. Small. He’s a little small for a full-term baby. In fact, I expected him to weigh more, considering your gestational diabetes, but he’s a ten on the Apgar scale.”

She angled up on her elbow, squinting to see him more clearly, but he was covered in vernix. And she was so tired it felt as if her eyes were crossing. This had been her longest labor, in spite of the fact it was her fifth. Weren’t subsequent deliveries supposed to go faster and easier?

This entire pregnancy had been difficult, from morning sickness that wasn’t restricted to mornings and lasted until almost eight months, to gestational diabetes, to the threat of preeclampsia. But it was worth it, having this latest addition to their family. It proved she was still a vital, desirable woman, although this was something she’d never reveal to anyone.

The baby boy had stopped crying and seemed to be watching her with his father’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Happy birthday, little boy,” she murmured around a huge yawn.

“You need to rest, Mrs. Small. You can see him after the nurse has taken him to be cleaned up.”

She didn’t hear anything more as she slipped into an exhausted doze.

H
OW MUCH time had passed?

Magdalena was still tired. She dug her elbows into the mattress in an effort to raise herself in the bed, wincing as the roughness of the sheet abraded her elbow.

“Here, Mom. Let me help you.” Matthew, their oldest, elevated the head of the bed with the control, and then carefully helped her to a sitting position. He was only eleven, but he was more mature than any of the boys he went to school with, and she was so proud of him.

“Thanks, sweetie. The nurse should be bringing in your new baby brother soon.”

“We saw him in the nursery, but I can’t wait to see him up close. We men finally outnumber the girls in this family.” He gave her a saucy grin, and her heart turned over. Of course she loved all her children. She just loved Matthew a little bit more.

“Are you upset you couldn’t go trick-or-treating?” Truthfully she was glad they had missed it. Pagan holiday!

“No. We had the party at school, and Dad let me go around for a little while with Andy. Luke went with his friend Tommy. Dad took Sarah and Bethany.”

She really shouldn’t complain. Ben was a heathen, as she’d discovered soon after their marriage, but he didn’t interfere with their children’s religious upbringing, and so she overlooked it, prayed for him, and hoped he’d see the light.

“Where are your brother and sisters?”

“They’re with Dad, down in the gift shop. The flowers are supposed to be from all of us, but this is from me—just from me.” He handed her a floppy little bear. “His name is Brownie.”

“He’s lovely, Matthew. Thank you.” Just then her other children burst into the room, followed by their father, holding what looked like a virtual garden. Magdalena looked at the flowers and smiled at Ben.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” He crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss her.

“Fine.” She knew by his expression that he didn’t believe her. “Better.” He still wasn’t buying it, and she capitulated, admitting in spite of herself that it was nice not to have to be strong all the time. “A little sore. Tired.”

“All right, kids.” He put the flowers on the bedside table. “Mom’s tired. Give her a kiss good night and go wait by the nurses’ station. I’ll be along in a few minutes. And behave! If I hear even a hint the nurses had to send for security, I’m gonna sell you to the Martians—”

“Sure, Dad.” They laughed at him. He’d been promising forever to do that if they misbehaved, and the children thought it was very funny, especially since, as Luke took great glee in pointing out, there were no Martians in their neighborhood.

Magdalena frowned. She didn’t like when he said things like that where other people might hear. They’d think she and Ben were bad parents, and they weren’t. Her children did as they were told—she was always pleased when people complimented her on how well-behaved they were—and they excelled in school and sports and all the after-school activities they were involved in: dance and Scouting and various crafts.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Mom.” Matthew lingered at the door. “G’night.”

“Good night, Matthew.” She waited until he was gone before turning to Ben. “So they’ve seen the baby. What do they think of him?” Tyrell hadn’t been planned. They were happy with their two boys and two girls and had been certain their family was complete. In fact, they’d given all the baby clothes and furniture to Goodwill. She’d felt so awful through much of this pregnancy that the task of getting new things for the baby had fallen to Ben. Maybe that was why this whole experience seemed so surreal.

“They weren’t too impressed. He was howling his head off.” Ben’s blue eyes crinkled with amusement, and her heart gave a little flip.

She loved him so much that sometimes it scared her. She’d married him against her parents’ wishes—they had wanted her to marry one of her cousins—but Ben’s blue eyes and dark good looks had swayed her to disobey her father for the first time in her life.

In addition, Ben had promised everything would be fine, and it was. He was a good provider and a wonderful husband. And he was so good with the children.

“Was he all right? I don’t remember any of the others doing that.”

“Dr. Margoles said everything is fine.”

She sighed in relief. Dr. Margoles had been the children’s pediatrician since Matthew’s birth.

“Ty’s weight is a little low, and Dr. M. wants to keep him here until he hits six pounds. The minute he does, we can take him home.”

“Will the insurance cover it?” Although she wasn’t really worried. Ben’s union offered excellent benefits.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Ben stroked her hair, and she leaned against him. “I called Dad, and he and Dave will come visit on the weekend.”

For a second, when Ben had said “Dad,” Magdalena had thought he was talking about her father. Although she liked her father-in-law and brother-in-law, she hadn’t seen her own family in thirteen years.

A nurse walked in just then, wheeling a bassinet. “Here’s the newest member of your family!”

Ben picked up the tiny bundle with competent hands. He wasn’t like some fathers, who were only comfortable with their children once they reached the age of reason. She knew he’d pitch in and help her, walking the floor at night if necessary.

And she could see from the besotted expression on his face that he was already hopelessly in love with their newest son.

Magdalena held out her arms. “Let me have him!”

Tyrell was swaddled from his neck to his feet, and a blue-and-white cap covered his head. A few wisps of black hair stuck out.

With the baby cradled in her arms, she lowered the front opening of her nightgown and put him to her breast.

“Ouch! He’s a greedy one!” She began to sing softly to him, and he opened his eyes and stared up at her with seeming wonder. She ran a finger over his cheek—it was so soft—and smiled up at her husband. “He has your coloring, Ben—your eyes as well as your hair.”

“Do you think? All babies have blue eyes, don’t they? The others did, but now they all have gray eyes, just like their mom.”

“No, I know this little boy will be the spitting image of his daddy.” She resumed singing softly while Ben held them both. After a bit, she burped Tyrell, and then she put him to her other breast. “Ben, the children are going to get restless. You’d better take them home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? The nurse won’t be back for a while. I can wait and put him back in his bassinet.”

“No, I think he’ll be eating for a while longer.” Actually, she wanted to have some time alone with this new baby. She would have been told if anything was wrong, but she needed to reassure herself, just as she had with each of the others.

When he’d first asked her to marry him, Ben had assured her things would work out for them, but a peek wouldn’t hurt. And he didn’t need to know she was worried.

She raised her face for his kiss and relaxed against him for a moment, then smiled at him. “Make sure the children brush their teeth and say their prayers.”

“I will, Maggie. We’ll be back as soon as visiting hours start tomorrow.”

“That’s right, there’s no school tomorrow.” It was All Saints Day.

“Good night, little boy.” Ben brushed a kiss over Tyrell’s cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.” He leaned down for a final kiss.

“Good night, Ben.” She rocked the baby and hummed, and wished he’d hurry up and leave.

II

B
EN WALKED out of the room, pausing, as his oldest son had, to gaze back at his wife. God, he loved her.