Night Watch, Part 21

As David walked through the door of his house, he heard conversation and the clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen. Among the voices, he picked out those of Graphite and Olivia. But he hardly had time to process this when a soft, fleshy projectile crashed into his legs. It was Tony, who announced David's arrival with a loud "Dad!"

David lifted Tony from the floor with a sweeping motion and carried him to the sofa. Tony squealed with delight. Buddy watched from an armchair as David sat with Tony on his knees.

"He's been waiting for you like a loyal puppy dog," said Buddy.

"I'm sure he wants to tell me all about his sleepover," said David.

David marveled, as he did every day, at how fast his son was growing up. At three years and a few months old he had bright, brown eyes and a round face with cheeks that puffed out when he laughed. His forehead was high and bright, with soft, sweet-smelling skin. It seemed to David that Tony was becoming firmer and more boy-like by the day, his baby fat disappearing rapidly from his stomach and thighs. In the fall he would be in preschool, looking even more grown up.

"What did you have for breakfast?" David asked him.

"Kiss and 'eerios," said Tony with his customary garbled syllables.

"What did he say?" asked Buddy, who was not around Tony often enough to learn his latest vocabulary.

"Kix and Cheerios. He likes to combine breakfast cereals. Did you have raisins?"

Tony nodded happily. He loved raisins in his cereal.

"Did you play with Ben?" asked David. Ben was the two-year-old son of the Scotts, the family down the street with whom Tony had spent the night while Angela was in labor.

"He took a little 'nooze," said Tony.

"A what?" asked Buddy.

"He leaves off certain 'S' sounds, so 'nooze is really snooze," said David.

"The baby is in Mommy," said Tony patting his own stomach with an air of seriousness.

"Thank you for that report. How is she feeling?" asked David.

"Mommy's tired."

"Ah, yes, I'm sure she is. What do you want to do today?"

Tony raised both hands into the air. "Playground!"

David looked at Buddy. "He loves hanging from the bars."

"Sounds like fun," said Buddy, sitting forward in his chair. "Tony, would you like me to take you to the playground?"

Tony moved his head up and down very energetically.

"I would say that's a yes," said David. He looked up as Angela entered the room. "I heard you were sleepy," he said to her as she bent to kiss him.

"Our son is very observant. I couldn't hide it," she said.

"Would you like to sit?" David started to shift over.

"No, if I sit down I won't get up," she said.

"Your Dad's going to take Tony to the playground. Why don't you take a nap?"

"Would that be okay? I need some rest. Nothing is happening with this baby. It's so discouraging. I feel like I'm going to be pregnant forever."

"Tonight," assured Tony. David laughed; Tony was repeating what David had said several times yesterday, when he felt certain that last night was going to be it.

"Thank you, sweetie," said Angela. She leaned against them and pulled Tony's head against her hip. Her enormous stomach protruded in front of David. He laid a hand on it and instantly felt the baby kick.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah, wow is right," she said.

David turned his ear toward the kitchen, where he heard Graphite, Olivia and Natalie in conversation. "Sounds like a party in there," he said.

"Here, or in the kitchen?" said Angela, touching her stomach.

"I'm glad you still have your sense of humor, but I meant the kitchen," said David.

"That Graphite can be Mr. Social Butterfly when he wants to. He's talking Olivia's ear off, and that's pretty hard to do," Angela said, shaking her head in wonder.

David chuckled. He eased Tony off his lap and stood up. Tony rushed to the waiting arms of his grandfather. Natalie came into the room. "Are we making plans?"

"Tony and I are going to the playground," said Buddy proudly.

"And Angela's going to bed," said David.

Angela shrugged. "Orders from my husband. What can I say?"

"In that case I may do a little shopping. I don't want to run out of food, especially if we'll be having guests drop in," said Natalie.

"I can take care of that," said David.

"Don't you dare," said Angela. "Olivia's enjoying herself."

"But my night shift employee needs his sleep," said David.

"I'm sure he doesn't need you to micromanage his schedule," said Angela.

"Me, a micromanager? How did that rumor get started?"

Angela smiled. "I do talk to the employees, you know."

It seemed to David that Angela now had a part in every aspect of his life. It hadn't always been that way. It the early years of their marriage he had had a job working ten hours a day at a technical firm in Reston, Virginia. It took David an hour to get there in the morning and two hours to get home. He discovered that when you're gone from home thirteen hours a day you have no idea what's going on. But it didn't matter much because Angela had a full time job as an accountant for a nonprofit in Alexandria and was gone all day herself. Their house sat empty on weekdays until they came home in the evening, ate the simplest meal they could think of, and went to bed so they could get up early and start all over again. They lived two separate lives, except for the holiday season when David would meet Angela's office mates at a party, and Angela would meet David's.

After a few years on that schedule, David found a position with a shorter commute and better hours. Then Tony was born and Angela found that she was able to keep her accounting job on a part time basis and work from home. Soon, though, David started getting the bug to start his own company, and Angela was willing to support it because she wanted to apply her accounting skills to their own business instead of someone else's. Slowly, their lives became completely intertwined with family, business and home life. They had gone from one extreme to the other: from seeing little of each other to becoming constant companions. He ran the technical aspects of their fledging software company; she did the books and was a master at invoicing. If it weren't for her they would not be making any money, because David knew he was not disciplined about billing clients. They raised Tony together and were about to have another one. David no longer had his own life outside of the home. Sometimes their office space was an extension of their living room, with Tony crawling on the floor and toys scattered about. It was yet another reason why Graphite worked at night. David appreciated his desire for solitude. It was the one thing he didn't get any more.

Angela, as usual, seemed to read his mind. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"Maybe I'll catch a catnap on the backroom sofa," he said.

"That's not what I mean."

"I know. I was dodging the point."

"As usual. Well?"

"I'm a little overwhelmed. Do we need a bigger house?"

"Yes, but we probably won't qualify for a mortgage for another year unless one of us goes back to full time employment," she said.

He raised his hand. "Me. Can I? Huh? Please let me go to work."

"Right. You'd be miserable in two weeks. David, you're a homebody and you know it."

He sighed. "I know, but I also need my space."

"You'll get your space. Just be patient. This fall, Tony will be in half-day preschool and I'll be at home nursing this one if he ever comes. So you can disappear to your little office and bury yourself in computer code."

David's eyes brightened. "You make it sound so lovely. But wait a minute, are you back to calling it a he?"

She patted her stomach. "He's already behaving like a typical man: doesn't show up on time and doesn't call."

Natalie said, "Speaking of showing up, aren't your family members coming, David?"

"My parents are driving up now, and my sister is flying out from Seattle today," he said.

"Oh my gosh, I'd better shop for a crowd," said Natalie, pulling a pad of paper and a pencil from her purse.

Buddy stood up with Tony. "Sounds like we'd better go to the playground, Tony."

"Playground!"

Angela looked at David. "Cheers. I'm off to bed."

"I'll hold down the fort."

"There's no need to hold down anything. Just relax and go with the flow," said Angela.

"I don't know how to do that."

"It's time you learned."

Night Watch, Part 20

(Author’s note: We left off, before our break for Katrina observances, on the morning after a long night of labor for Angela. Her parents, Natalie and Buddy, are at the house helping out, as is her sister, Olivia. At this point, Angela’s labor is somewhat stalled, as labors can be, and so David has decided to make a quick trip to his office, ostensibly to get his cell phone charger, but really to fax a business proposal for a project that Angela doesn’t care for and would rather they not bid on.)


Getting out of the house was easier than he had thought: Natalie had taken over the kitchen, and seemed anxious to have one less man around. Buddy declined an invitation to go along, saying he would wait for Tony to return from his sleepover at the neighbor's house. David didn't object; he knew Tony would be thrilled to spend time with his grandfather. David kissed Angela goodbye and left the house with an extra doughnut in his backpack.

David felt liberated as he walked in the cool morning shade beneath oak and elm trees. Ahead, where the trees ended, the sidewalk became a puddle of brilliant sunlight. He enjoyed this walk to his office, and looked forward to it on work days, which was almost every day. The route took him past other houses like the one he and Angela owned: small, wooden structures with tidy lawns and gardens. Most of the homes were built before 1920 and had been renovated during the boom of the past ten years; they sported fresh colorful paint and new trim and roof shingles. The houses had originally been lived in by railroad workers and their families. Now these classic bungalows with their plaster walls, radiators, pine floors and high ceilings had become the rage among well-to-do homebuyers.

At the end of three blocks, David reached Mount Vernon Avenue, the busy corridor that was the traditional retail center of the community. Its fortunes had risen along with the gentrification of the neighborhood, and now the old, quirky storefronts offered everything from premium coffee to Cancun travel packages. He turned right at Mount Vernon and walked the half block to the building that contained his office.

"Hello, David," said a woman's voice, pulling him back from his thoughts.

"Hi, Nancy," he said. She was a regular at the coffee shop down the street. Almost all of the workers within a three-block radius congregated there.

"How's Angela?"

"No baby yet. I thought it would come last night. But..." He shrugged.

Nancy had two children of her own. She groaned. "She must be so ready to have it. Give her my best."

"I will," he said.

David's office was a two-room suite above a computer networking company owned by Randall Hogue, a tall Georgetown graduate who had played basketball. David had always thought the synergy was perfect: Randall's clients needed software, and David's clients needed computers and networks. Randall had gotten a ten-year lease on a two-level row house situated in the middle of a block of small businesses. He sublet the upper floor to David.

Randall's office was quiet as David walked past it and climbed the steps to his own place.

"Good morning, Gwen," said David as he breezed into the suite. Gwen Hogue was the cousin of Randall Hogue: in addition to offering the suite he recommended his cousin. At first, David felt pressured to hire her. But after meeting Gwen, who had gotten her degree from George Mason University, in Fairfax, David decided she was sharp. It was Angela who cast the deciding vote in Gwen's favor. Although he didn't say so, David suspected it had more to do with Gwen's pale skin and plumpness than anything else. He thought there was some truth to the old stereotype that when husbands and wives own businesses, the wife hires women who are not likely to be a temptation to the husband. Gwen spent her days at the computer downing two-liter bottles of diet Pepsi and eating low fat muffins. Her desk held the contents of her extensive make-up kit along with programming manuals and paperwork. When David received a document from her it often contained a reddish smudge with a peculiar aroma. However, she came at a good price and was a killer programmer. Graphite couldn't stand working in the same room with her and so he volunteered to work nights. For the record, Gwen didn't care for Graphite's gloomy attire and monotone conversational style and incomprehensible jokes.

Gwen greeted him with a pink-faced smile and said, "Was it a boy or girl?"

"It's not anything yet. We're still waiting for it to come out," he said.

"You've got to be kidding," she said, momentarily abandoning a blueberry muffin in front of her.

David shook his head. "'Fraid so. Poor Angela's about worn out, I think."

"I can't even imagine..." She let the sentence hang in the air.

David continued through the front room to the second room, which was large and contained a desk and a conference table and a file cabinet. On the wall hung two whiteboards for drawing software designs during meetings. David sat at his desk and let out a long breath: this was the world headquarters of D&A Software. The name was Buddy's idea: David & Angela. David liked it because it sounded like "DNA" and lent an air of complexity and sophistication.

David opened his backpack and took out his laptop computer and slid the machine into it's docking station. He powered it up and then turned his attention to the clutter on his desk. He rummaged through a pile of paper for the RFP, or Request For Proposal, from Jessica Van Buren's office. He didn't find it. Paper control was not a strong point at D&A Software.

"Gwen have you seen the Van Buren RFP?"

"I think Graphite was looking at it," she said.

He found it on Graphite’s desk and carried it back to his own desk. After reading just a page or two, while eating his doughnut, he remembered that he had already prepared most of the proposal. It was simple: in addition to the new mailing list program, they wanted a new campaign donations page and a better database for creating profiles of donors. That was the task Angela didn’t like. Van Buren's staff was going to use that feature to expand her base of supporters. Angela feared the media would say that D&A Software was itself a supporter of Ms. Van Buren and Angela didn’t want to wear the label of "conservative ally."

David pulled up the proposal on his computer and reviewed it. He adjusted a few numbers and task descriptions and sent it to the printer. David didn’t see any harm in providing some simple tools to a local politician. "If you're a hardware store you sell shovels to anyone who walks in the door, right?" he had argued.

The proposal came off the printer; David signed it and then faxed it to Van Buren’s office. He then tidied his desk and read email messages, not being in any particular hurry to leave. It was quiet in his office, except for the clicking of Gwen's nails on her computer keyboard. After a bit of sorting and shuffling, the papers on his desk were stacked into neat piles. His work would be ready for him when he returned. After lingering as long as he dared, he turned off his computer and packed it away. At the last moment before leaving his office he remembered the cell phone charger, his excuse for coming to the office in the first place. He stuffed it into his backpack. As if Angela would be fooled by such a flimsy story: he knew that she knew he was going to submit that proposal.

"Back to the delivery ward?" said Gwen brightly as he walked past her desk.

"Yep. How's that adoption site coming?" he asked. Gwen was creating a web site for couples seeking to adopt a child.

"I've got the database created and about half the scripts we need. I'll be able to give you a demo by tomorrow."

"If I'm still conscious by tomorrow. I may collapse from exhaustion."

"You? All you have to do is stand there and hold her hand," said Gwen.

"But I get to do all the worrying," said David.

He waved goodbye and left the office.