NOVEMBER 28th, 1991, OLYMPIA, WA
"YOUR BUMP IS showing," Kate said pointedly from across the living room. She was sitting on the Abners' couch with her legs crossed, wearing a coy smile on her face. Reagan looked up from where she sat, legs splayed, on the carpet. RaeLynn was clambering on her back and Kody was handing her Lego pieces, instructing her accordingly on what to build.
"Is it?" she asked. She looked down and saw that her flannel buttons had indeed come undone, revealing her tank top that was beneath it. Sure enough, her stomach was slightly distended against the fabric, giving way to her steadily growing pregnant belly. To Reagan, it looked as if she'd simply overeaten at the dinner table. To everyone else, she was clearly pregnant. It wasn't just a figment of the mind anymore.
"Baby, baby, baby," RaeLynn sang in her lilting toddler voice. She patted at Reagan's stomach gently. It had taken judicious explanation on both Reagan and her parents' part when telling the twins about their new family member. Thankfully, they were still too young to understand the logistics and didn't look at their eldest sister with horror upon learning that they would be an aunt and uncle.
Robbie, on the other hand, was too shell-shocked to be within even a ten foot radius of Reagan. He treated her as if she were unfamiliar, like a statue made of glass. It had pained Reagan immensely to watch him skirt around her with wavering eyes, but she could understood his hesitance. She had left as someone he knew entirely at heart and had returned with a growing person inside of her. It was a lot to take in.
She was surprised that Kimberly hadn't ratted her out. Reagan had entertained awful thoughts about what her mother might have said about her to Robbie in her absence, but when Reagan had been tasked with explaining what was going on to him, she had realized that Kimberly had been rather quiet about Reagan's personal life.
"Tiny baby," Reagan explained to RaeLynn with a smile. RaeLynn looked awed as she patted Reagan's stomach once more. Kody frowned, tugging on his older sister's hand in order to reel her attention back in to their game. He had no patience for any of the life-changing news Reagan had brought back home — to Kody, she was still just his big sister.
"Tiny baby with no name yet," Kate chided. She uncrossed her legs, clad in black tights and leaned forward with a cocked eyebrow.
"I'm working on it," Reagan said grudgingly.
"Working on it? I already have my future baby names picked out. And I'm not even dating anyone!" Kate cried.
"Work has kept me busy," Reagan replied, fumbling for an excuse. Only she knew the real reason as to why she hadn't settled on any potential names for her baby. It plainly felt odd doing so without Dave there to give his input. Speaking to him over the phone about the matter wasn't the same as what it might have felt like to look into his eyes and see them light up when they mutually decided on the right name for their child.
"Dinner's ready," Robbie called from around the kitchen corner. He poked his head out tentatively, looking nervous when his gaze landed on Reagan. She offered him a soft smile, which he weakly returned before darting out of sight.
She sighed heavily. He was doing a poor job at disguising his angst. Reagan knew Robbie well enough to know that he would normally would never be caught dead helping their parents cook in the kitchen.
"He'll come around," Kate said as they both got to their feet. She wore a sympathetic look.
"I should have been honest with him from the start," Reagan said grimly. "He probably feels so out of the loop. I mean, even my head is spinning and I'm the one that this all happening to!"
"He's only thirteen, Reags. All he truly knows is that some stranger came into the picture and took his sister away. What else did you expect?"
"He loves Dave. Have you seen his hair lately? He's growing it out. Who do you think inspired that look?"
"I don't doubt that he loves Dave. But he loves you more."
RaeLynn had already toddled to Kate's side, taking her hand as she was led down the hall and into the kitchen. Reagan bent down to scoop up Kody, who fussed in protest. As she took a step forward, she felt a Lego crunch into the sole of her foot.
"Ow! Damn it!" she yelped, hobbling on her uninjured foot while juggling Kody in her arms.
"No cursing!" came a shout from the kitchen. No doubt that it was Kimberly, who couldn't stand Reagan's foul mouth. Shaking off the pain, Reagan grumbled under her breath and joined her family at the familiar kitchen table she had once thought she'd never sit at again.
Kimberly and Richard had exhausted themselves over a handsome looking feast. There was an assortment of dishes ranging from mashed potatoes to green beans and stuffing to pumpkin pie. In the center of the table sat the turkey, baked to a crisp golden brown. It was perhaps the most elegant Thanksgiving dinner the Abners had served in years. Reagan couldn't help but to feel that in an unspoken way, it had been made to honor her homecoming.
"Wow," she remarked. "This looks great."
Richard appeared behind his daughter, removing oven mitts off of his hands to place them on her shoulders. He smiled a wide smile that nearly touched the corners of his shining eyes.
"Did you think your mother was the only one who could cook in this house?" he exclaimed.
"No," Reagan laughed. "Well, maybe. But I'm not admitting to anything."
Even Kimberly was smiling as she undid the ties to her cooking apron, draping it atop the counter as she readied herself to sit.
"Don't listen to him," she called. "I did most of the work."
As Reagan took her place at the table, she could not deny that seeing her family so happy brought to her a great, immeasurable joy. Of course there was the situation with Robbie, who still appeared to be a little sullen, but the sight of Kimberly and Richard's radiant smiles was an unexpected gift.
In no way did Reagan think that things were permanently different. She still sadly had to remind herself that it was only one night out of the thousands of days to come when it came to enduring her family — Kimberly, specifically. The only saving grace for her was that she'd been reunited with her siblings and Richard.
Richard's happiness over having his daughter back, even if for a brief moment, was infectious. From the time she had walked through the door, he'd been utterly jovial, cracking jokes and grinning as if the past year had not been one of the worst of his life. Despite that, it was clear that on this Thanksgiving, he had much to be grateful for.
"It's really too bad Dave can't be here," Kate said from her seat beside Reagan.
"I know," Reagan agreed. "I miss him. He would have really liked all this."
"We'll just have to count down the days until he can join us for next year's Thanksgiving dinner," Richard interjected. Reagan flashed him a grateful smile, delighted to hear her father speak of Dave and the future, coexisting together as one. Richard had accepted that her future inevitably included Dave, no matter the circumstance.
"Alright, we've all got to say what we're thankful for before we eat," Kimberly instructed as she laid a napkin primly across her lap. "Who wants to start?"
It was an old routine, one that they had partaken in for as long as Reagan could remember. Once upon a time when she was a child, she had always vied to go first, trying to beat out Kate in their turn to speak.
There was a short silence across the table as no one volunteered, though they all smiled. Kate finally spoke first, nudging Reagan with her elbow.
"Reags should go first. It's her first family dinner in forever."
"This isn't normal family dinner. It's Thanksgiving," Reagan pointed out.
"Who cares? Shut up and go."
"Don't tell me to shut up."
"Girls! Not at the table."
Reagan laughed freely, leaning back in her chair. She folded her hands discreetly across the lower half of her abdomen. Oddly, she was still almost shocked to feel the curve of her baby bump. It was both foreign and natural for her to know that beneath that layer of skin was proof of her and Dave's love for one another.
"Well . . ." she began. "I'm thankful for being healthy."
"What?" Kate demanded urgently. "You're thankful for your health after everything you've done this year?"
"Let me finish," Reagan shot back. "I'm thankful for my health because without it, I wouldn't have been able to do those things. And I wouldn't . . ."
She paused, pressing her lips shut. Her eyes flickered across the table to where Robbie sat, staring at the table linen instead of at her. She knew immediately that she would have to revise the words in her head, at least so as not to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was.
"I wouldn't have all that I have right now," she finished. She kept her hand laid against her stomach, figuring that at least within the privacy of her mind she could celebrate her thanks. There was no need to put Robbie at stake for it.
"I'm thankful that Reagan's here right now," Kate chirped cheerfully. Her pride in having lured her sister back into the Abner household was evident.
"I am as well," Richard added. "I missed my girl. And I'm thankful that she's not alone and has a wonderful sister to care for her, and a very nice, talented husband who loves her."
Kate followed this up by attempting to coax a sentence or two out of the twins, but she didn't get much except for a few stray words, one of which included 'mac n cheese.' Robbie went next, though he kept it relatively short, insisting that he was grateful for a lack of homework due to being out of school. When it came time for Kimberly's turn, Reagan couldn't help but to perk her ears up.
"Hm," Kimberly began, tucking her joined hands beneath her chin. "I suppose I'm thankful for my family. And that all of you are well."
There was another beat of silence. Without having to look in her direction, Reagan knew that Kate must have been staring daggers at their mother, urging her to elaborate. With a slight, hesitant twist of her lips, Kimberly continued.
"And I'm thankful that Reagan is here."
If she hadn't tried to hide it, Reagan was sure that she would have been able to hear Kate's audible sigh of relief over Kimberly letting her guard down. It wasn't exactly promising that her sentiment had required enticing, but she figured it was better than nothing.
They dove into eating their meal, divvying up servings and passing plates around the table. Reagan felt like her old full-time job of being a big sister had been reinstated as she cut up pieces of food for RaeLynn, who was sitting next to her. She supposed it would serve as good practice for what was ahead.
"Reagan, Kate mentioned that you're going to visit Dave and his band during this tour of theirs," Richard said excitedly as he took a sip of water before setting the glass back down.
"I am," Reagan said, smiling. Talk of band tours excited Richard, for he had once aspired for those things too and was obviously proud of his son-in-law. "I'm visiting really soon. Next week, actually. I'm flying to France."
"France?"
It was Robbie's voice that piped into the conversation sounding hollow and full of dismay. When Reagan focused her attention to him, he appeared absolutely aghast, holding his fork frozen in midair.
"Yes," she said cautiously. "France."
"Is that safe?" Kimberly asked, infiltrating the exchange as she chewed and swallowed a bit of turkey with a concerned set to her lips.
"Flying to another country? Of course it's safe," Reagan said.
"But while carrying a baby?" Kimberly challenged. Reagan saw Robbie flinch at the word 'baby.'
"You're not supposed to fly after thirty-seven weeks," Reagan explained, spouting off a fast fact that she had learned from her gynecologist. "So it's alright that I go now, before it's too late."
"You never know," Kimberly said with apprehension. "There could be side effects. Or God forbid, what if something happened to the plane?"
"Let's not put that out into the universe, Mom," Kate said, leaping to Reagan's rescue. "The best we can do is wish Reagan well on her trip. Right?"
Kimberly looked as if the last thing she wanted to do was give Reagan any sort of well wishes for her cross country journey, but she said nothing and went back to sifting food around her plate.
"It will all be fine," Richard said soothingly, ever the family optimist. "Things are still early on for Reagan. But you've got some big milestones coming up, right hun? When are we going to find out if it's a boy or a girl?"
Reagan felt a strike of heat in her face as she was reminded of her upcoming doctor's appointment in which she would discover the gender of the baby. The reminder brought her a sense of excitement and pleasure — at least one part of the waiting game would be over, even if Dave unfortunately wouldn't be there to witness it.
"Next week," Reagan said. "Right before I leave to go see Dave."
"That's great," Richard said, smiling proudly. "Very great. I can't wait to hear the verdict."
"Maybe that will make her start thinking of baby names!" Kate threw in. Consequently, a debate on possible names was ignited at the table with even Kimberly partaking. Most of the ideas that her family had made Reagan wrinkle her nose in distaste. The final straw had to have been when Richard, trying to be helpful, suggested his mother's name for a girl baby — Mildred.
No thanks, Reagan had thought. She would leave it up to herself and Dave to decide, whenever that time would be. She wondered vaguely if they would think of a name together in France. That would be a nice story to tell their future child, that they had settled on their name in a whole different country.
After dinner was finally finished and everyone had rightfully complained about how stuffed they were, Reagan and Kate helped Kimberly clean dishes while Richard and Robbie, along with the twins, ventured back into the living room. Once Reagan had dried the very last piece of silverware, she followed them, having been beckoned by the sound of drum-playing.
Of course it had been bittersweet to have seen her old drum kit sitting sidelined in the living room, collecting dust like an old vintage piece. She had considered dismantling the whole thing and finally dragging it back to her and Dave's apartment, but she realized abruptly that that was no longer an option because before her very eyes, she found Robbie sitting behind the kit drumming.
She never thought she would have seen the day.
"No way," she blurted, standing at the entrance to the living room as she watched.
Robbie stopped playing and looked up, his mouth opening before snapping shut. Richard was sitting on the couch, appearing smug as he coached his son.
"I told you I'd be the one to get him to play," Richard grinned.
"Robbie, that's awesome!" Reagan exclaimed, rushing toward Robbie eagerly and momentarily forgetting his current animosity towards her. It wasn't until he drew away that she remembered with a sudden and painful shock of rejection.
Richard must have noticed the exchange, for he slowly got off the couch and insisted that he go help Kimberly clean up although it was blatant that everything had already been cleaned. He got the twins to follow his footsteps and soon enough, Reagan and Robbie were alone.
"You sounded great," Reagan commended him quietly.
Robbie shrugged, fiddling the sticks in his hands. "Not really. I don't know anything except the beginner tricks that Dad taught me."
"That's where everyone starts out," Reagan assured him. When he didn't respond or look her in the eye, she sank into a spot on the couch, feeling her heart constrict.
"Robbie," she whispered. He didn't give her a chance to complete her sentence.
"I'm not mad, okay? If you think I'm mad at you, I'm not."
"If you were mad, that would be allowed," Regan said. "You could be mad at me and I would understand completely."
"Well, I'm not," Robbie said, clenching his fingers tighter around the wooden sticks in his grasp. "You're way happier now than you ever were here. So that's good for you. And I don't care."
"That's not true," Reagan countered softly. "Maybe I thought when I first left that I would be happier, but I turned out to be wrong. I was dead wrong."
"How could you be wrong?" Robbie demanded, finally steering his angered stare into his sister's eyes. "You've got what you want. You're married. You're gonna' be . . . a . . . a mom."
"I didn't want any of that at first, you know," Reagan said. "I was totally freaked out when this all started."
"So what?" Robbie grunted. "You're happy now. That's all that matters."
"I'm not happy though, Robbie. Not fully, anyways. You wanna' know why?"
He didn't answer, but Reagan forged on desperately, aware that it could have been her one and only chance to win her brother back.
"I'm not entirely happy because you're not entirely happy with me," she explained. "And I love you, Robbie. We're more than siblings. We're best friends, remember?"
"You've got more important people to think about now," Robbie mumbled. "It's not the same."
"I know it's not the same. But nothing ever stays the same Rob, except for the fact that we're brother and sister and you will always, always be one of the most important people in my life."
Hesitantly, Robbie raised his eyes so that they fixed back on Reagan. She could detect the slightest sheen of tears in them, though he would not allow them to escape. A lot had changed since she had left. He had aged. Matured.
"You mean that?" he asked.
"I swear it, Robbie."
Robbie contemplated what Reagan had said, lowering the drum sticks against his knees while staring hard at the kit in front of him. Finally, he nodded and sniffed.
"I believe you."
Reagan smiled fully, feeling a glimmer of hope. When Robbie returned her smile slowly but surely, her hope came full-circle. She got up to hug him, knocking into into the crash cymbal as she did so. She was more than relieved when she felt Robbie hug her back, tightening his squeeze around her shoulders in a silent way of saying that he had missed her.
"Don't break it," he said, though he wore a tiny smile as he steadied the quivering cymbal.
"Alright, 'fess up," she commanded with a grin. "What really made you commit to wanting to learn the drums? I've got to know."
Robbie's face went pink and he looked away again. Somehow, despite his bashfulness, Reagan noticed with a nostalgic pang that he looked older, more teenaged than ever.
"I'm not saying."
"C'mon. You owe me an explanation after I spent all those years trying to get you to play."
He sighed defeatedly. "Don't laugh, okay?"
"I would never laugh."
Robbie looked at his sister again, their matching irises reflecting in each other's eyes. He sat up a little taller, seizing his opportunity to tell his sister how he really felt. In that moment, he too understood that he was older, different somehow, but still the same little brother that she had loved for so long.
"I committed to playing right when you left," Robbie said. "Because I missed you so much. And when I played, I felt close to you. When I played, it was like you never really left."
_______
DECEMBER 4th, 1991, SEATTLE, WA
MUCH TO HER own revelation, Reagan was not saddened nor disappointed to be alone at the doctor's appointment that would reveal one of the biggest pieces of news that she would ever receive in her life. If anything, she felt empowered to be conquering it alone, sitting in the examination chair by herself swinging her feet.
With finals fast approaching, Kate had been bogged down with her studies. Reagan had enforced that she not come, not when she had so much to do and little time to do it. It looked as if Kate was going to declare herself as a Law major soon, and Reagan didn't want to be the reason that she ruined her sister's chances in such an ambitious field.
She could have asked Kimberly to accompany her, but when she had imagined her mother at her side, it had not felt right. In a way that she would have never admitted out loud, Reagan thought that Kimberly perhaps did not deserve to be there. She didn't have a place among the celebrations in Reagan's life. Not yet, at least.
Chris had volunteered to join her last minute, but at that point, Reagan had been more than willing to go into the appointment alone. She had been doing the whole process relatively alone anyways. What was another occasion in which she pushed through by herself?
At the heart of everything, she knew that an even deeper reason for her self-chosen solitude was Dave. If he couldn't be there to hold her hand while their baby's gender was discovered, then no one should be.
The exam room's door opened and in walked the ultrasound technician, wheeling a heavy looking machine with a monitor attached to the top. She was beaming, visibly happy for the stranger sitting in front of her. Reagan smiled back.
"Are we ready?" the technician asked sweetly, adjusting her equipment and snapping on a pair of sterile gloves.
Reagan inhaled deeply and nodded, lying back in the chair and deliberately rolling up the hem of her shirt.
"Yeah. I'm good to go."
The technician chattered as she spread a cold, clear jelly across Reagan's abdomen. When Reagan jerked in response, the woman apologized, insisting that most everyone reacted the same to the chilly substance. Reagan, feeling her nerves began to prickle, laughed anxiously.
A device was probed across Reagan's stomach, sending images to the monitor that had been angled so that Reagan could see. She smiled breathlessly when she saw the grainy image of her baby and heard the sound of its heartbeat throbbing soundly.
"Wonderful, wonderful," the technician murmured, eyeing the screen and pressing the probe more firmly against Reagan's skin. Her face broke into a smile as she looked at Reagan, her features forming into an expression of sheer excitement.
"I have to ask, but are you hoping to hear the sex of the baby today?"
"I am," Reagan confirmed. As soon as she said it, she felt her stomach twist. "My boyfriend — I mean, my husband isn't in the country, but I'm going to see him in two days. I want to know so that I can surprise him."
"That's so sweet," the woman cooed.
"He's been waiting to know," Reagan said, letting out another nervous laugh. "I'm sure he can't wait to bombard me."
"Well Miss Reagan," the tech began, holding the probe in one hand while adjusting the monitor closer to Reagan's line of the sight with the other. "Let's find out what you're having, shall we?"