Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2017 23:29:47 -0500 From: Eric Trager Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 45 Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories! Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWII NOTE: This is the "Wedding Chapter." There are four hymns as part of the Mass. I encourage you to add those to the story. The Gregorian Chant is 45 minutes long, so maybe the first 2-4 minutes would do it for you. :-) CHAPTER 45 A few minutes later, the sleek Cadillac Fleetwood limousines glided silently up to the front of the Nativity of Saint Mary Church. Stepping out were four tall, handsome young men and their equally handsome mothers. It could have been a scene straight out of an upper-class English garden party, the young men in their gray morning dress and top hats, the proud mothers in exquisite, tastefully understated and timeless yellow dresses and matching off-the-face hats. At the last minute, Brett snagged Sean pointing out that they'd thought David's dress uniform would be black, matching the other Best Men's black attire but that it wasn't black. He seemed to be sweating it a little too much for Sean's unflappable nature. "Calm down, Brett!" Sean said with a smile, reaching out with both hands to straighten Brett's bowtie. "I did a little more research on the uniform afterwards and it turns out that the over jacket is dark navy blue, and it's trimmed in red so it goes with George's tie. The trousers are light navy blue, and that's OK, we saw they were lighter anyway and they have that red stripe down the outside seam which works, too... And just so you know, David's wearing the Class B dress uniform, with ribbons instead of the actual medals, which is what Marines are authorized to wear at formal functions that are not military. It looks just fine! Now, go claim your husband!" "OK, sorry.... I guess I'm just a little nervous. Thanks..." Brett smiled back, giving Sean a quick shoulder squeeze. After a little while, the guests had already arrived were seated inside the Church. It was time. The processional began. The massive old pipe-organ shook the old Church to its very foundations with the opening strains of the Hymn "The Old Hundredth," the Craig High School Honors Choir sang in a flawless arrangement. HYMN: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftoiZyvRjO4 *** THE OLD HUNDREDTH All people that on earth do dwell, sing to the Lord with cheerful voice: him serve with mirth, his praise forth tell, come ye before him and rejoice. The Lord, ye know, is God indeed; without our aid he did us make: we are his folk, he doth us feed, and for his sheep he doth us take. O enter then his gates with praise, approach with joy his courts unto; praise, laud, and bless his Name always, for it is seemly so to do. For why? the Lord our God is good, his mercy is for ever sure; his truth at all times firmly stood, and shall from age to age endure. To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the God whom heaven and earth adore, from men and from the angel host be praise and glory evermore. *** First down the aisle was Father Taylor, aspergillum in hand sprinkling the congregation with holy water, then followed the Altar Boys who as Sean promised were members of the football team, Cunns among them with the censer perfuming the Church with incense. Next was George Dickson in his role as Deacon. Following last, and in a complete surprise and shock to everyone was the Bishop of Madison with his crosier and mitre. At the side of the altar was the cathedra in which the Bishop would sit observing the service. It had been brought down from Madison with the Bishop special for this service and it would return with him. Because the Bishop would be seated in cathedra the Church would be – unofficially and for this Mass only - not the Nativity of Mary Church, but The Cathedral of the Nativity of Mary. Tim was speechless. He'd explain later the meaning of it all to Brett, who of course was not a Catholic, and wouldn't fully know what the presence of the Bishop in cathedra meant. At the altar, Father Taylor began the Catholic High Mass in Latin, his voice reverberating over the PA system, filling the old Church: IN NOMINE PATRIS ET FILII ET SPIRITUS SANCTI* The congregation answered in unison, "Amen." The service unfolded in all the pomp and majesty only a Catholic High Mass in Latin, rarely done any more, could have. Father Taylor, rusty though his Latin may have been, practiced it to a shine for this day. The presence of the Bishop lent a weight no other Mass could match, and the Church was magnificently turned out for the occasion. Father Taylor gave absolution to the entire congregation en masse in order that all, whether Catholic or not, should participate in Communion during which the boys section of the Craig Honors Choir performed a haunting Gregorian Chant. HYMN: https://youtu.be/RaECiix7kJ8 Finally, the moment everyone was waiting for arrived. As the wedding march, Tim had chosen, for no other reason than he liked it and had never heard it at a wedding, Zadok the Priest, again done by the Craig Choir. HYMN: https://youtu.be/MiXgOQ9_-RI Down the aisle, led by George Dickson, strode four young men escorted by their mothers. Father Taylor had already left the altar, but curiously the Bishop remained in cathedra. As George and the four couples drew near to the altar, the Bishop beckoned them to halt at the appointed place just in front of the altar steps. Then the Bishop did something astonishing. He stood from the cathedra and assumed the altar to deliver the Sermon. No one expected the Bishop to show up at the Mass for one thing, but the Bishop delivering the Sermon was entirely something else. It was extraordinary. He chose 1 Corinthians 12-27, One Body with Many Members, a Psalm generously appropriate for the occasion: "For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. "Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, `Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, `Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,' that would not make it any less a part of the body. "If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? "As it is, there are many members, yet one body. "The eye cannot say to the hand, `I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, `I have no need of you.' On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. "But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. "Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." The old Bishop blessed the Congregation and retired back to the cathedra. On cue George Dickson mounted the Altar. Turning first to his nephew, he began, "Do you Daniel take James to have and to hold from this day forward as your lawful husband, to love, honor and obey, for better, for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health until death do you part?" "I do," Danny replied in a strong clear voice. Here and there in the Church, some whispered aloud about the word `obey' being in the vows. Ginny elbowed Sean asking him about it. "They insisted on it," Sean replied. Danny then slipped the ring on Jim's finger. At last, having got through the other three, it was Tim's turn as George, ever the gentleman, would do his own son last. "Do you Timothy take Brett to have and to hold from this day forward as your lawful husband, to love, honor and obey..." and at that George choked up with tears looking at his second son, a Marine Sergeant in his dress uniform acting as best man for his youngest son so recently fallen in love, his soon-to-be son-in-law, Brett, and Brett's best friend, Andy, as his best man. He had to steady himself, wipe his eyes, and take a deep breath. Once recomposed, he continued, "...for better, for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health until death do you part?" "I do," Tim replied, looking at Brett and smiling. George smiled with the smile only a proud father can have. "Then by the power vested in me by the State of Wisconsin I do hereby pronounce you married. You may turn and face the congregation." All four had elected on that wording rather than kissing as they wanted more than anything for the ceremony to be dignified and felt that kissing would be over the line. They'd got what Tim promised and they weren't going to rub it in just for the sake of making an unnecessary statement. The fact was they were married, and not only that but they'd been married in a Catholic Church, on that day a Catholic Cathedral. In their view that was all the statement anyone needed to make, and it spoke for itself. Father Taylor returned to the altar and closed the Mass. "Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus."** Then, as a Latin Mass hadn't been said in most people's memory, for clarity he finished in English, "The Mass in ended. Go in peace. Thanks be to God." The couples recessed first, followed by their families to the thunderous strains of the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. HYMN: https://youtu.be/Fg0sdotvzYc First through the receiving line were Father Taylor and the Bishop. The Bishop stopped when he got to Tim. "Young man," he said, "I wish you and the other three all the best there is in life. I understand it was your idea for the Latin High Mass, and that you chose the music and arranged for the organist and choir..." "That's right, your Excellency. I did." "My son, this was the most beautiful Mass I've been to in probably fifty years. In fact, I can't recall the last time. It brought back so many memories of the days when the Church had pomp and circumstance. I probably won't get to see another one before I meet my maker..." "Glad you enjoyed it, your Excellency," Tim smiled, maybe a little bit knowingly. "And let's hope when you're ready to meet your maker he's ready to meet YOU... Say, I don't suppose Father Taylor will be making Monsignor one of these days, is he?" The old Bishop chuckled, winked, patted Tim's shoulder and moved on. Father Taylor shook Tim's hand, hugged him and wished him the best. He knew his Parish had been saved. Once again. That's how things had always been done. The rest of the Congregation filed past, giving best wishes for the future and making ready for the reception at Riverside Park. As a condition agreed between Tim and Father Taylor, all guests had to now surrender the invitation that they were required to show to attend the Mass. Show it on the way in, give it up on the way out. The Church wanted no paper trail. It was to Tim a small price to pay. He understood and he was fine with it. The festivities at Riverside Park were far less formal. A beautiful, mature park dating from 1922 situated on a long, narrow plain of land between a high sandstone bluff, quarried in the past, and extending along the west banks of the Rock River. It had grace and charm. The Lannon Stone pavilions stood solid, but friendly in their melding of Edwardian and Craftsman styles with the same color brown wood trim paint they'd always had and their open sides and picnic tables, the green, grassy baseball diamonds had seen countless innings, a hundred thousand, maybe more, children had swung on the swing sets, or played in the sandboxes over all those years. Above the bluff stood the golf course of Tim and Brett's first date. Per their Park Permit, a beer bar was set up offering wines and soda as well. The band was setting up, and each young groom making ready to escort his mother out for the first dance. A Janesville Police Department cruiser stood at the ready along with two uniformed Officers as the City had required in order to grant such an unusual permit to a City Park event. The Officers fell into a conversation with David, asking him about time in the Marines. David, cutting in impressive figure in his Marine Dress uniform was only too happy to regale the Policemen. The party was well into action, the band, a good one, rattling off classic rock, dance tunes, even in a moment of mirth a Bee Gees disco song. In the midst of a dance with Ginny to The Rolling Stones `You Can't Always Get What You Want,' Sean felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. He made a mental note of it, finishing the dance with Ginny who proved to be surprisingly spry on the dance floor for a woman nearing seventy, her hair and clothes in her own signature style. As Andy always said, "Ginny does garish well." Ginny thanked Sean for the dance, fanning herself as always, letting Sean know she was off to find her "next victim." "Just wait until you're my age and you don't get out much any more..." She teased. Returning to the bar to fill his beer, Sean met up with Andy, David and Kevin. "Well, well, well... It's the Three Stooges, I see..." Sean teased. "Better shut yer ass, Wyman, or we'll throw ya in the fuckin' river..." David teased back. Sean felt his cell phone vibrate again. He took it out of his pocket, seeing that he had a text message. The message was from the Mother Superior at the Convent north of Stevens Point. It was one word. "Gemini." He looked as if he was going to pass out. Grabbing Andy, Sean gasped, "LOOK! JUST LOOK! We're gonna be dads... Shit, what do we do?" "You know the plan, Blondie. Go get Ginny and she'll take care of it. I love you, ya know..." "I love you too, Brown Eyes. More than anything. FUCK! WE'RE GONNA BE DADS!" Sean rushed to the dance floor, interrupted Ginny's dance with Herb Dowling, and dragged her off to a corner. "Look at my phone!" he exclaimed, still white. "OH MY GOD!" Ginny gasped. "Go get your dad and John and Andy! NOW! Meet me back at the pavilion." Ginny commanded. Doing as he was told, Sean had them back at the pavilion, finding Ginny on her telephone. "OK, guys... A Sheriff will be here in a minute. He'll take us to the airport. Like we talked about, there'll be a plane waiting. Once we get to Stevens Point, a car will be waiting for us." Noticing the commotion, Tim and Brett came over. "What's the deal?" Tim asked, half laughing. "Dix, it's happening, man..." Sean said. "IT'S FUCKING HAPPENING!" "Whadya mean?" Tim replied. "The twins! It's fucking HAPPENING!" "What the fuck?" Brett smiled and laughed. "We're married and you're gonna be a dad on the same day. FUCK! When are you leaving?" "NOW!" Sean said. "It's been arranged for a long time. Ginny's got a plane waiting at the airport. We're gonna fly to Stevens Point! I'll call ya then!" Tim and Brett hugged Sean tight. "We'll be in London starting tomorrow. We'll text ya when we get there so you have the number at Ginny's townhouse. CALL US!" Brett said, jumping up and down. "We will. And you guys have a great honeymoon!" Andy said giving both Tim and Brett a hug, whispering, "Love you, friend!" into Brett's ear. "FUCK!" Sean said. "We gotta get Mrs. Doubtfire and take her with us... I mean, I think we do, she's like the Nanny and everything... Be stupid not to..." "It's already done," Ginny said. "A cab will pick her up and she'll meet us at the airport. Coming up the main park road, police cruiser cherries could be seen getting closer, then the drab brown color of a Rock County Sheriff's Department Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor showed itself drawing nearer by the second. At the curb, the Deputy exited the vehicle. Finding Sean, Andy, Joe, Ginny and John he was unaware he would have five passengers, so bade Joe to take Ginny and follow him to the airport in the XTS. To Joe it was like déjà vu recalling the night almost a year ago now that he'd had to follow the Kenosha police cruiser with Sean riding shotgun to the hospital where Andy lay so grievously injured. Snaking through town, then to the south on Highway 51, twenty minutes later they were at Southern Wisconsin Regional Airport, a general aviation facility with no scheduled passenger service. At this time on a Saturday, they would easily have a clear shot for takeoff. The Deputy took them out onto the runway. Mrs. Cheadle was already there, two large bags packed, and waiting inside her cab. On the runway was a Beechcraft King Air 350i, a medium-sized twin- engine turboprop executive aircraft capable of seating eleven passengers and making a cruising speed of 312 knots. Sean calculated that once they were airborne they should touch down on the runway at the other end in Stevens Point in about 40 minutes at the most. The agreed protocol was that Sean would be sent the code word `Gemini' when labor had commenced so it would be unlikely that the twins would be born by the time they got to the Hospital, which he figured would be in a little over an hour. "Sir," Mrs. Cheadle interrupted Sean's train of thought. "Once they're born we'll need to pay attention to their vital measurements. They are about three weeks early at best, maybe four. I'd expect them to be small. They may need to be put in a special care area, but just so you know three weeks early isn't terrible. I'd expect that they'll be fine." "Yeah, I'd thought about that..." Sean said. Both Joe and Andy patted Sean on the shoulder. Andy thought this would better be a time when he didn't say much. The whoosh of the turboprop engines and buzzing of the propellers lulled them all into a semi- catatonic state for the short trip. After a time, the pitch of the propellers changed and the passengers could feel the plane go into a descent. Sean thought that in this size of a plane it felt more like a dive than a descent. Andy look out his window and could see them heading toward what were obviously runway lights. The trip had taken 34 minutes so far. Another five minutes and they were on the ground on the runway apron ready to disembark. The rental vehicle was waiting, thankfully a Chevrolet Suburban with extra seating. Baggage loaded, Joe punched in the address for Saint Michael's Hospital. "How you doing, Son?" Joe asked, turning to Sean. "I'm fine, dad. We all knew this day would come. I'm ready. I guess I have to be." "It's all gonna be OK, Sean-o," Andy said, rubbing Sean's shoulder. Arriving at the Hospital, the group went inside and were directed to the Maternity Ward. Once there, Joe saw the Portage County Sheriff's Deputy in the waiting area. "Good evening, Officer," Joe said. "I'm Joe Wyman and this is my son, Sean. He's the father here..." Introducing himself, the Deputy told them Colleen had been admitted about an hour ago, and that he needed to stay there until relieved by another Deputy as his function was technically guarding a prisoner. Sean, Andy and John excused themselves, went to the Nurse's Station and inquired as to the status of things. "One moment, I'll see if I can have a Doctor come out," they were told. When the Doctor came, Sean asked if he would speak to them all. He introduced everyone, making sure to note than Andy was his fiancé, Joe was the Grandfather, Ginny the Great- Grandmother, and John his brother. "Well, one of every generation, then!" the Doctor began. He seemed to be brisk, and no- nonsense. "I'll cut to the chase. The mother is, well, she's a difficult patient. That said, she's well into labor right now, properly dilated and all that. Contractions are coming regularly, and the babies are not under stress. So far, this is a normal birthing procedure." "How long..." Sean wondered aloud. "If I knew that I could retire," the Doctor answered. "Would the father like to witness the births?" "Um, well, yeah!" Sean answered. "Can Andy come in, too?" "I appreciate what you are asking, young man," the Doctor said. "However, our regulations are that only the father is permitted in the delivery room unless the father is not present and in that case only one member of the mother's immediate family. So, if you would like to witness the births, fine, but no one else can go in." Sean gave Andy a dejected look. "Will you give us a minute, Doc?" "Yes, but please make it brief as I do need to return to the delivery room." Sean and Andy moved a distance off so they could talk. "And, I wish you could go in, it's just..." "Sean-o, you go. Don't worry about me." "I love you so much. This reminds me of when you were in the Hospital. I thought if you'd die I'd hafta die, too that night..." "Don't talk like that," Andy said taking Sean's larger hand in his own. "They offered to let you in, so go. We'll all be fine out here." "OK then... Love you..." Sean softly said, kissing Andy on the cheek. "I can't wait for you to see our sons." Returning, Sean looked the Doctor in the eye. "Let's go." "Very well. Now, I am familiar with the, shall we say, circumstances here. I'm recommending that we dress you in scrubs and mask and goggles so that you are as thoroughly disguised as possible. I don't want the mother recognizing you as we can't predict the reaction. You will also stand out of her sight; however, you will still be able to see well enough." "That sounds like a good idea." "Alright, well, let's get you in there. Follow me..." Once in the scrub room, the Doctor handed Sean some Nurse's scrubs, cap, mask and goggles. He admonished him to don them all as well as a pair of latex gloves as well, and to be sure that his long hair was tucked well inside the cap. Satisfied that Sean was well-disguised, they entered the delivery room to a howling shriek from Colleen. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed. "Jesus Fucking Christ! Goddamnit, take it FUCKING OUT! This is bullshit! FUUUUUUUCK!!!" Sean secretly rolled his eyes. He craned his neck but did not yet see a baby emerging. "I SAID FUCKING TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT NOW!" Colleen screamed. The Doctor ordered an epidural. After a little while more of Colleen's screaming obscenities at the Doctor and Nurses one of which she managed to kick in the groin, by and by Sean could see continued expanding, and what looked like him to be the head of a baby just peeking out. "Push!" the Nurse instructed. "FUCK YOU!" Colleen shrieked. "I know your names and you are all so...AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGG!!!!!" The baby's head fully out, the Nurse called for another push. This time, Colleen did as told without the swearing, and out slithered a slimy little creature. Sean counted quickly: two arms, two legs, hands, eyes, fingers and toes looked good... The Doctor cradled the little baby. The chord was cut, little mouth cleaned, and bottom spanked to which the tyke elicited a healthy objection, wailing at the top of his lungs. A strong, pretty baby, Sean noted, with the wispiest possibly blond hair. He looked small-ish, but then again Sean knew nothing from which to compare. Weighed, the boy tipped the scales at 5 pounds, 2 ounces. Indeed small, but not dangerously so. About to be whisked out of the room to the NICU***, Sean, looking at his newborn son and touching his cheek with both a smile and a tear, handed the Nurse a slip of paper. He'd thought in advance to do that in order not to attract Colleen's attention. As soon as the second twin was delivered, he would leave the room. The Nurse unfolded the piece of paper which read, `This is my son. Call him Joseph Andrew Churchill Wyman. That is his name to be recorded on his birth certificate this day.' Colleen wasn't to have so easy a second birth. In fact, it was proving difficult. She cursed that she still had another one to push out. She screamed like a Banshee with each and every contraction, desperately gulping for air between. After some minutes, and no indication of the second twin making his appearance, Sean saw that the Nurse began to look concerned. "Doctor," she said, "how much longer on this one?" "Neither the mother, nor the baby appear to be in distress," the Doctor replied. "The baby's heartbeat is increasing," the Nurse pointed out. "We'll give it some more time," the Doctor said. Sean didn't know what to think. Time continued to tick by, Sean becoming pensive with each tick of the classic IBM clock's minute hand. He thought he should ask, so he waived the Nurse over, out of earshot of Colleen. "What's going on? Do we need to be worried about the baby?" "No," the Nurse said. "Sometimes twins come as much as an hour apart. What we're keeping our eyes on is your son's heart rate and the oxygen level in the mother's blood. The Oxygen level is where it should be. The baby's heart rate is higher than it should be right now, but not dangerous. If it goes higher and sustains, we might have to do a C-section, but we're a ways from that yet." Feeling at least a little bit reassured, Sean retreated to his corner, keeping an eye on the heart monitor. Sean had the second slip of paper in his pocket, the name of the second twin, but he dared not remove it until the child was born alive. "If any doubt, save the life of the baby!" Sean said. As soon as he turned back toward Colleen he heard the Doctor command, "She's hemorrhaging! Ready an O.R.! Stat!" Sean saw blood gushing from where the baby would hopefully soon come. He knew enough to note that Colleen's heart rate was racing and her blood pressure dropping. He was in a state of shock. Again, he pulled the Nurse over. "Save the baby! If nothing else, save my son!" "Your son will be OK. We're going to do an emergency C-section. We have to go in to stop the hemorrhaging anyway. We won't know about the mother until then, but your son will be OK." Colleen, unconscious, was wheeled out of the delivery room into the room next door which was an operating room. The Doctor came over and told Sean he'd have to return to the waiting room. "Son, my best guess is that she's suffered a uterine rupture. We'll be doing an emergence C-section to birth the baby before we do anything else. Someone will be right out the second your son is born. I'm sorry, but I have to go." Sean was shell-shocked. He worried himself sick that something would happen to the as-yet- unnamed baby. He walked as if in a trance to the waiting room. Andy was the first to see Sean and instantly knew something was horribly wrong. He literally ran to Sean. "Something's wrong, isn't it..." Hearing no answer, he panicked. "Talk to me, Sean- o!" "And, um, we have a son... Her uterus ruptured and the second one is still in there. I have no idea what's going on... They said they have to do a C-section. I'm scared we'll lose him, And. I'm scared..." Sean did something Andy had never see him do before. He broke down crying. Andy hugged him close. "Take a deep breath. I love you. Whatever happens, we'll get through it together." "I love you, too. I always will. Maybe we better go see our son. Maybe that's the best idea right now..." Sean and Andy went to the others and explained what was going on. Ginny, the only woman present, reassured Sean that it wasn't as bad as it sounded. Sean gained entry for the group to the observation hall of the NICU. He looked at the different incubators until he found the one that said Wyman on the tag. "Everyone," Sean said proudly, but still in shock. "This is Joseph Andrew Churchill Wyman. Joey, meet your Grandfather, your Great-grandmother, your Uncle John and your other dad." The sleeping infant made no gesture of recognition. The entire group stood gazing with I'm- looking-at-a-baby smiles on their faces. Joe came to Sean and whispered in his ear, "You named him after me?" Sean nodded and replied, "I did, dad. Who else?" Joe patted Sean on the back. "It's gonna be OK, son. Have faith." "I will, dad. I guess we better go back out there and just wait it out..." And as he had done so many times, Sean squared up his shoulders. He motioned them all in the direction of the waiting room. At Riverside Park, the wedding reception still in full swing, Tim had a concerned look on his face as he turned to Brett. "I've sent Wymo three texts and no answer. That's not like him... God, there better not be anything bad happening..." "Relax, Tim..." Brett said. "It takes a while to have a baby, never mind two of `em. I'm sure everything's OK... They'll call then it's all over. Besides, we have to be going soon anyway to get ready to leave for O'Hare." "Yeah, I guess so..." Tim replied, looking dejectedly at the ground. "It's just that this whole thing has been such an ordeal for Cass and Wymo. I mean, what would they do if it didn't turn out alright?" "Timothy, I said it'll all be OK. I'm sure if we just had two kids the first thing you'd do wouldn't to be start texting all your friends. Or it better not be..." Brett laughed. "I guess. I'm such a fucking dork..." "Yes, you are. But you're my fucking dork and now you're stuck with me forever. And speaking of fucking, you better fuck me good when we get to London, husband..." "When I'm done, you'll be able to fit Big Ben up your ass!" Tim laughed. "Anyway, you're right. I was just getting' worried is all. I'm OK now..." "I'm sure we'll hear something soon, probably before morning... Except we'll be on an airplane..." "Well, that makes me feel a lot better, shithead!" Tim joked. "Alright, well, we best get back and say our thank yous and good byes. We've got a long trip ahead of us, you know... And, yes, I have the tickets and boarding passes... And yes, I know which terminal we're going to..." Brett joked back. Once the four newlyweds made the rounds of the guests, thanking them all and collecting congratulations and best wishes, they made their way to one of the Cadillac limousines from that morning for the trip back to the Dickson home, and then on to O'Hare Airport in Chicago a little less than two hours away. The driver loaded their bags into the enormous – "six body" as Tim called it – trunk, and off they sped down Interstate 90. The driver reminded them he knew they were going to the International Terminal and that they would be getting out at British Airways. The limousine had all the accoutrements and the couples enjoyed champagne and pâté on the drive, Brett and Danny prattling on about where to go and what to see. Two-and-one-half hours after leaving Janesville, seated aboard the airplane and getting antsy, finally they heard what they wanted to hear. "Ladies and Gentlemen," a soothing female English voice sounded over the speakers, "Welcome aboard British Airways flight 1518 non-stop service from Chicago O'Hare to London Heathrow. Our aircraft today is a Boeing 747-400. We shall be leaving the gate in approximately ten minutes, and once airborne our flight time should be approximately seven hours and fifteen minutes. At this time..." They tuned her out at that point, luxuriating in their massive first-class seats on the spacious upper deck of the gigantic plane. Jim noted that the seats converted into beds so they could sleep if they wanted to. "Can we fuck if we want to?" Tim asked, pretending to be deadpan. "You can go fuck yourself if you want to, cousin!" Danny said, slapping Tim upside the head. They felt the jolt as the Jumbo-Jet began its push-back from the gate out onto the taxiway. They heard the engines come to life and felt the plane turn, beginning to move forward, taking about five minutes taxiing out to the runway. Once there, they came to a stop. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" came a male voice. "This is your Captain speaking. We are presently number two for takeoff. We've got cracking good flying weather ahead of us, so we'll have you in London bang on time, if not a tick early. As always, thank you for choosing British Airways and we hope you enjoy the flight. If you find there's something you need, please don't hesitate to ask our Cabin Crew and they will attend to you. Very well, then! Off we go!" The plane inched forward, came to a stop again, then inched slowly again, turning without stopping. Suddenly the boys were forcefully and unmistakably pushed back in their seats as the Captain called for simultaneous full power from all four of the big Rolls-Royce turbofan jet engines. Gathering speed at an alarming rate, engines screaming, they felt the nose of the plane rise and in no more than a second the wheels leave the ground. They were London- bound. They felt the plane climb rapidly, amazed that something so huge could move under its own power with such authority. Out the windows, they could see the Chicago skyline come upon them and then disappear behind as they moved out over Lake Michigan to the northeast. From the opposite windows, they could see the lights of the cities to the north along the lakeshore beyond the Chicago suburbs to Kenosha, Racine and all the way to Milwaukee. Then those cities disappeared, too, and it was just the blackness of the big lake. Brett remarked that it looked like those maps of North Korea at night one sees online. Nothing but black. They talked and kidded around for a while, reminding each other that Ginny's Chauffeur was to meet them once they'd cleared British customs, and they had better sleep on the flight over as due to the time difference they'd be arriving in London at around 9:30 a.m. London Time. Danny reminded him that the gifts for the Chauffeur and Housekeeper, a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt and University of Wisconsin jacket, one each for both of them were in his suitcase. They ran though the list of things they wanted to see. Brett said he'd been told that if there was one thing not to miss it was Westminster Abbey. Tim wanted to see the Houses of Parliament, Jim was keen on dining out and trying English beers, and Danny, which the others thought was a little odd, wanted to see Chartwell, south of London, the private home of Winston Churchill and now a museum. All wanted to see if they could get into a Soccer game at Wembley Stadium, and take a side trip to Liverpool to see the origins of the Beatles. None of them were old enough to rent a car in England, but Ginny had lent them unlimited use of her Chauffeur and Bentley. Running out of things to talk about, tired from their long day, having eaten the dinner that was offered and the obliging Flight Attendant supplying each couple with a bottle of Champagne even though she guessed, but didn't ask, that they were underage, they soon fell asleep for the remainder of the flight. Ginny snapped her head up, hearing the beginnings of heavy footsteps coming down the Hospital hallway toward the waiting room. She had a bad feeling... Noticing Ginny's sudden motion, the others did the same. Striding toward them with purposeful steps was none other than a scowling Bill Kennedy. Sean began to stand up, equally as purposefully. Ginny silently bade him to stay where he was. Ginny rose and with staring eyes closed the distance between herself and Kennedy. When she was in range, she said in a low voice, "We're finding an empty room and we're gonna talk! NOW!" Bill Kennedy began to open his mouth which was immediately met by "Shut it!" from Ginny. "Just follow me and don't say a fucking word," she added. Ginny stalked off, turning to make sure Kennedy was following her. He was. As soon as she spied an empty room, she went in, motioning Kennedy to follow. Once in, Ginny shut the door. "OK, just WHAT THE HELL are you doing here..." She demanded, tapping her foot on the floor and staring Kennedy down. "I'm here to see my daughter, if that's OK with you," Kennedy retorted. "Well, she's busy having a baby right now, so you can't see her! Anyway, you really shouldn't be here..." "Are we done now?" Kennedy sarcastically asked. "Depends. If you wanna stay it's really up to Sean Wyman. He could have you arrested... You have a restraining order against you, don't think I don't know that... So, if you wanna stay you better go out there and ask him like REAL nice... And if he says no, then it's back to Janesville for you or I'll call the cops myself! You got me?" "Fine, if that's how this is gonna be..." Returning to the waiting area, Ginny spoke up. "Sean, there's an empty room down the hall. You and Bill go down there and talk. Two minutes, no more or I'm comin' to get ya! GO!" Doing as instructed, Sean found the room with Bill Kennedy right behind him. "OK, Kennedy, talk..." Sean said, arms crossed and eyes fixed dead on Bill Kennedy's. "I came to see my daughter." "That's IT!?" "Yeah... As if whether, or not I see my daughter is any of your business you little shit!" "May I remind you that I have a restraining order against you, and there is no exception in the order for whether, or not your daughter is in a Hospital in a different town from where you live and is having twins?" "You're a clever little fucker, I'll give ya that much, Wyman. So, what are you gonna do?" "Depends. What are YOU gonna do..." "I intend to see my daughter and my grandchildren! What the fuck do you think!" "Well, here's the deal... One of the twins is already born. Shortly after that, her uterus ruptured and they're doing an emergency C-section right now to birth the second one. They might have to remove her uterus if it can't be repaired, so...that's like where we're at right now. The one that's born is in the NICU. There's no more to tell." At this news, Bill Kennedy's face went ashen. "That's right," Sean said still with his eyes drilling into Bill Kennedy's. "So, now you tell me what you want." "To, um, to see my daughter..." he whispered. "Fine, I'll let you stay, but if you came here with any idea in your head of taking those babies, and if that's what you think you're gonna do, I'll have you thrown in jail before you can say your own name. And I won't hesitate so don't try me. I had half an idea you'd show up, so I brought a copy of the restraining order. And the Hospital already has the papers saying I have custody of the babies. AND...there's a Sheriff's Deputy right out there, too... Am I being clear?" "Like I said, you're a clever little piece of shit, you are." "Fine, then. Go to the waiting room and have a seat." "Will I be able to see my grandchildren?" "I'm gonna hafta think about that." "You would deny a man seeing his own grandchildren!" "I might. And then again, I might not. But it's my decision, innit..." Kennedy swore under his breath, turned and left the room. He returned to the waiting room taking a seat well away from the others. Half an hour after Sean's meeting with Bill Kennedy, a Doctor came out and approached Sean. "Young man, your second son was delivered by Caesarian Section. He is in the NICU with his brother and doing well. He weighed 5 pounds right on the nose. The mother, well, she was hemorrhaging badly, it was a major artery, we were unable to stop it, and I'm afraid we lost her... She died." "Very well," Sean replied, handing the Doctor the second slip of paper. This one read, `This is my son. Call him Leonard Sean Churchill Wyman. That is his name to be recorded on his birth certificate this day.' Sean looked at the Doctor, unsure of what to say for a second, or two. He then squared up his shoulders, looked at the Doctor and said, "Doctor, that man over there is the mother's father. You should make him aware of his daughter's death. I'm sorry, Doctor, I know you did your best..." Sean watched as the Doctor made his way over to Bill Kennedy. He went back and sat down but kept watching out of the corner of his eye. It appeared the Doctor was going into some detail. Kennedy asked nothing. Said nothing. When the Doctor turned to leave, Kennedy sat with his head in his hands. In the meantime, a Nurse came out and asked Sean if he'd like to see his second son. Sean and Andy went back to the NICU. In the incubator, next to little Joey was his twin, and they were identical. Tears ran down Sean and Andy's eyes. Suddenly, the two babies became agitated, crying and screaming at the top of their lungs. The Nurse came back in, looked them over and said there was nothing wrong even though the wailing continued. Andy suggested that since they'd been together in the womb for eight months they might try putting them both in the same incubator. The Nurse shrugged her shoulders and did so. No sooner than were the two tiny, little boys together than the tirade stopped. They soon fell fast asleep. On their way back to the waiting area, Sean said, "And, I should say something to Kennedy. Yeah, he's an asshole and everything, but nobody deserved to die here. Even he's gotta feel something..." "I'll come with you," Andy said. "OK, good..." In the waiting room, the two boys found Bill Kennedy. He looked in shock. "Mr. Kennedy," Sean began. "I want you to know I'm sorry for your loss. I truly am. I don't know what else to say." Kennedy just looked up at Sean and shook his head. His face was blank. He didn't speak. He just sat there. "Mr. Kennedy," Sean continued, "you asked to see your grandsons. Would you like to see them now?" Again, Kennedy was all but catatonic. He rose from his chair and simply motioned Sean to lead the way. In the NICU, Sean went down the glass-walled hall stopping when he came to the twins. "Mr. Kennedy, meet your grandsons. The one on the left is Joseph Andrew, and the one on the right is Leonard Sean." "Last name is Wyman?" Bill Kennedy asked. "Yes." Bill Kennedy merely stood looking at the babies. After a minute, probably less, he simply turned and left, saying nothing. Andy and Sean stayed behind, noting that the babies were still peacefully asleep. They both snapped photos of the tiny boys. When the Nurse came in again, Sean asking when she thought the babies would be ready for the trip to Janesville. "We'll keep them under observation for 48 hours. If after that nothing shows up, we'll clear them to travel as long as when you get them back there you take them straight away to your Hospital for a checkup. We can make an appointment in advance for that. It's not at all as uncommon as you might think for newborns to travel, I mean they have to get home somehow and I don't think we can ship them UPS..." "How do you think they're doing so far?" Andy asked. "So far, so good..." The Nurse replied. "Their vitals are within the normal range, and they're sleeping. That's what they should be doing right now. Most critically, they're breathing on their own and breathing well. Sometimes premature babies have problems with their breathing, but they seem to be doing fine. In a little while they'll be wanting to be fed. Now, I want to caution you that in the first few days it is normal for newborns to lose a few ounces of weight, so if that happens don't worry too much. It's just their new systems cleaning themselves out and getting up and running." "Alright," Sean said. We'll be staying in a hotel. We'll be by tomorrow morning, then." "OK, and we have your phone number should we need to get a hold of you. It's been a long day and you need sleep as much as these little guys. Don't worry..." "Right, thank you, Nurse." Returning to the waiting area, Sean and Andy made sure everyone got one last long look at the newest additions to the family before they left. Joe, Ginny and John would return to Janesville as soon as they left the Hospital, Ginny leaving instructions for Sean to notify her when he needed the plane to come back, and letting him know that he shouldn't worry about any potential trouble out of Bill Kennedy. "If I have to intervene, well, I already got him by the short-and-curlies," she said. I'll be keeping my eye out." "Will you go to Colleen's funeral?" Sean asked. "As a long-time, shall we say, acquaintance of the Kennedy family, yes, I should go, why?" "Well, I don't think I should go, but, you know, no one really deserved to die... As much of a train wreck as she was, she didn't deserve to die... If you go, please take a piece of paper and write the boys' names on in and hide it somewhere in her casket. Those boys will have to grow up never knowing their mother..." Sean said, memories of his own mother billowing in his head. "I'll do that, Sean." "Where's Kennedy, anyway?" "Sean, when he came out of the NICU he just kept walking. He's gone..." "How come he was alone.... I mean, why wasn't Mrs. Kennedy here?" Andy asked. "Old Billy-boy probably never told her where he was going. He probably got the call when he was in the bar at the Country Club and left straight from there. They don't really have a marriage. Haven't for years. She's OK, but like him she drinks. He lets her live the lifestyle as long as she leaves him alone. I know for a fact they haven't slept in the same bedroom since Kathleen was born... Now Bill has to go home and tell her their daughter is dead... Or maybe he'll just go back to the bar... Yeah, of course I feel for them, I'm not totally heartless you know, but that's how it is... Bill and Colleen both ruined their own lives. And for no good reason. It's a shame..." Back in the waiting room, they all hugged, said their good-byes, Sean, Andy and Mrs. Cheadle going to get the rental car that had been delivered for them, and the rest heading back to the airport for the trip back to Janesville. Mrs. Cheadle had been watching the two little ones the entire time in the NICU. She was tired, too, but backed up the Nurse in her assessment of the babies. "Sir, they might be tiny, and the second one had a hard time coming into the world, but they look alright to me. I've seen smaller ones, not much mind you, but I have. We'll come back in the morning. What we expect at that time is basically no changes. And that will give us a first idea of what their appetites are like, too. They'll be wanting to be fed all the time for the next little while, and they'll start to piss and shite, too." Sean and Andy both laughed. "Well, I suppose ye wanted me to call it something daft like `number one' and `number two' you two. It's piss and it's shite..." Then they heard Mrs. Cheadle mutter to herself as she shook her head, "Bloody `number one' and `number two! Barmy Yanks! Bugger me!" They found the Hotel, and checking in Sean told Andy he was going to text Tim and let him know the twins had arrived. "You gonna tell him about Colleen?" Andy wanted to know. "I don't think so. They're on their Honeymoon... I mean, I don't think it would ruin it, but I just don't think it's necessary..." "Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, Dix avoided her like the plague... Remember how he even withdrew his name for Homecoming King because he thought she might be Queen?" "Yeah, and that's how this whole mess started, when she fainted on the dance floor..." "Unreal, well really when she decided to drug me and fuck me..." Sean said with a laugh- through-a-scowl. "This whole fuckin' last year's been just un-fuckin'-real... Well, at least I got you out of it so I guess I wouldn't trade a thing, Brown Eyes..." "I wouldn't either...." "And, how are we gonna raise two kids... I mean, like HOW?" Sean said, unusually for him showing the stress. "Well, Sean-o.... We will raise them well." With that, Sean sent a text, attaching the photo of the twins. All the text said was, "Say hello to Joey and Lennie. Be back in The Burg**** in a couple days... Have fun!" Just as Sean sent his text, aboard the British Airways 747 the PA system came to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We're beginning our descent into London Heathrow. We should be on the ground in about 30 minutes. Present weather conditions in London are 16? and sunny. For our American passengers, that's 60?. Flight Crew, make ready to prepare for landing." In Janesville, late at night and with a thick fog rolling up the hill from the river, a middle-aged man sat alone on one of the park benches at the Rock County Court House grounds, his head in his hands. END CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE * Meaning: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. ** Meaning: May the blessing of almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit come upon you and remain with you forever. *** NICU. Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Intensive care for premature babies, or those born with complications. **** "The Burg," nickname for Janesville. A variation on another nickname, "Janesburg."