The Trumpeter's Family

The Trumpeter's Family

His friends were happy to see him get married - they’d expected him to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. He fit the bachelor-role very well - a musician in his mid-forties. He was on tour with the orchestra, where he played the trumpet, 300 days of the year,  and when he was home, he’d usually spend his evenings to himself, rehearsing new music or watching TV, usually accompanied by a glass of whisky . He just didn’t seem the type to find a wife. But he was a nice guy, and the friends he had made through the years (mostly other musicians, but also a few neighbours and old classmates) were all very happy for him when he announced that he had found someone, at last.

She was thirty-five when they tied the not, about a decade younger than him, but hey - what did it matter? She was a high school teacher, a music teacher, as a matter of fact, with a love for classical music. They met after a concert he’d taken part in. She waited for him by the stage door, saying she didn’t usually do these kinds of things but his playing had moved her so much - and would he go out for a drink, maybe?

“What a lovely girl!” his friends all said after they’d met her. They all made sure to casually pop by at times when she might be at his house, as they were curious to find out more about this Anna-woman who had obviously turned James’ life upside down. “She was pretty, too“, they agreed. “No fashion model, but then, that‘s not what he needs, is it? He needs a nice girl who’ll take care of him, keep the home in order. And did you see how happy he seemed? I don’t think he’s been that happy in years. This could be the best thing that ever happened to him.”

The home that was to be kept in order was a nice big villa that he’d bought after he’d started playing with the orchestra. The money was good, and he’d hadn’t known what to do with it all, so he bought a house. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to invest the money in something that would last. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that he only needed to use a small part of it on a daily basis - the kitchen, one of the four bedrooms and the downstairs living room were usually enough. When Anna moved in - a few months before the wedding, they made one of the spare bedrooms a storage space for the things she brought with her. She placed a few of her knickknacks around the other rooms that were in use. Then they went on doing what he’d done - spending most of their time in the western part of the first floor and leaving the rest of the house to itself. Less floors to clean, and less tables and shelves to dust, they agreed.

The wedding was a small one, only close friends and relatives - well, actually they only had one relative between them, a sister of hers, as both set of parents had passed rather early, and as he was an only child. The bride looked lovely in her traditional white wedding dress. “I’ve always wanted to get married in a big white dress“, she’d told him. “Granted we do not need a fancy party or many guests, but I do want to get married in a big, white dress, looking like a huge meringue.” He felt no need to deny her that pleasure, in fact, as she walked towards him down the aisle, he thought to himself that he’d never seen anything or anyone quite so beautiful before in his life. “What a lucky guy I‘ve suddenly become, he thought. “A year ago I was sure I was destined to be alone. Now I’ve got her. Oh, please, do not let this be one of those dreams that seems so real and wonderful until you wake up and realize it’s all gone.”

But he had no need to worry, she felt very lucky to have found him, too. She was one of these people who manage to see the positive side of everything, without even trying to. Instead of being annoyed that he had to travel so much in his work, she thought herself lucky that she was with a man with whom she could tag along to all these great places she probably would never had seen otherwise. Instead of being irritated about the amount of time he spent on his playing, she was glad to be with someone who was so wholeheartedly committed to something, and the fact that this “something” was wonderful music only made her happier. Instead of being upset that he was such a lone wolf, that he wasn’t much of a social type and that he kept to himself a lot on his free time, she was grateful that he had chosen to let her in, to let her take part in his life. It made her feel special.

The issue of children had been discussed between them, very briefly, before the wedding took place. One evening as they were curled up on the sofa, watching TV, she asked him if he wanted any. He told her the truth; that he hadn’t thought that far yet, to him having one person to share his life with was enough for the moment, he hadn’t considered adding more. He asked if she wanted any, and she told him the reason why she had brought up the subject; she couldn’t. After an infection “down there” in her twenties, she had been told that she could never conceive. At first he didn’t know what to say, so he put his arm around her and made her rest her head in his lap. They sat without speaking for some time, then he cleared his throat. “Would you have wanted children, if you could have any?” he asked. “I mean, were you sad? When you found out?” “Not really“, she mumbled. “I’m fine the way I am. We’re fine the way we are.” She rolled over to her back so she could look up into his face. “Aren’t we?” He answered by smiling warmly at her and stroking her cheek with his finger. Then they fell silent again. The issue was never addressed since.

She’d never really felt any big desire to have a baby. She was a teacher and spent a lot of time around young minds, but she never felt a need to take any of them home with her and treat like her own. She liked her students and she was well-liked by them. She could be very caring towards them, even motherly, at times, when she sensed that they needed someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on. She liked being around younger children, too. In time her sister got married and had two little boys, and she simply loved it whenever they flew into town (except for the fact that she had to clean the extra bedrooms and make them liveable). She liked children, but she felt no need to have one of her own.

And so the years went by, the two of them living together in the villa. He kept travelling around with the orchestra, and she went with him whenever she could. When she couldn’t she would spend her days longing for him to get back. Of course, looking at the positive side of things as always, she told herself that the longing was a good thing - how many couples that had been married for years could honestly say that they were still longing to see each other whenever they were apart? 
He felt the same way - he was glad to have someone to come home to, someone to miss when he was away. When on tour, some of the other men in the orchestra would buy presents for their wives, jewellery or nice dresses, mostly. “To keep the old missus happy“, they’d say and laugh. James bought things for Anna only when he found things he knew she would like - and only because he genuinely wanted to give it to her, not because she expected it or demanded it.

They had been married for eleven years when it happened. She was well into her middle age, and people around her wouldn’t have described her as “a lovely girl” anymore. Like most women her age she’d gotten a few wrinkles, a few grey hairs, a couple of small “love-handles” on her waist. She was still an attractive woman, but definitely a woman, no longer a girl. In his eyes, though, she was the same as always, the one he’d fallen head over heels in love with.

He was in his fifties, now, and though he didn’t like to admit it, the constant travelling around no longer suited him all that well. His back had had enough of sitting in air plane seats for hours at the time. Getting up at five in the morning to catch the bus to the airport seemed more and more difficult each time. And the constant getting in and out of hotels, packing and unpacking, it all just tired him out these days. He tried to get more jobs locally, playing at the town’s theatre and that sort of thing, skipping the tours he was able to skip. He sometimes dreamed of being able to leave the orchestra and live on this kind of freelance work. Then he would be able to decide for himself when to travel or not. But he was unsure whether he’d get enough to do, and so he kept renewing his contract, regretting it each time he signed up for another year.

He was in Cape Town when she started to suspect it. She was a forty-six year old woman who had known for a long time that she could never have children, she’d been with her husband for more than a decade without using protection and still nothing had happened, and yet, when she started feeling sick in the mornings, her first thought was “What if I’m pregnant?”. She couldn’t explain why, but she had a distinct feeling that this wasn’t food poisoning or a simple case of the flu.

The third morning of feeling ill, before work, she drove to a chemistry (a shop near the school where she worked, she couldn’t risk going to her local chemist in case someone saw her there) and bought a pregnancy test. As she got back in her car, she realized she couldn’t possibly teach anyone anything until she had some answers, so she called in sick from her cell phone, and drove back home. - I was sick when I got up, she reminded herself. - It’s not like I’m staying at home for no reason.

Once back at the house, she brought the little stick with her to the toilet. She’d only seen these things on TV, she’d never actually studied one up-close before, but the instructions where clear and she followed them accurately. After what seemed like the 5 longest minutes of her life, the result was ready; the test was positive.

She was unsure what to do next. On some level she had thought that the test would prove her wrong, show her that she was silly to even think of a pregnancy at this stage. Feeling sick could mean so many things, after all. And just because she hadn’t had her period in a while that didn’t necessarily mean anything either; it had always been very unstable. And wasn’t she soon ready to lose it, anyway? - That could be it, she thought.  - Some hormonal imbalance, that makes the test come out this way. But no matter how she looked at it, she was sitting there with a positive pregnancy test in her hand. It was a fact that could not be ignored.

She called her physician and asked to see him as soon as possible, claiming to the secretary that he’d know what it was about. Dr. Harris had known her long enough to know that she would not have made such a request for no reason, and agreed to see her only a few hours later.

James returned home later that same night. His flight had come in very late, but he still expected Anna to wait up for him, she always did when he’d been away for this long. As he drove up to the house he noticed that there were no lights turned on anywhere. Slightly disappointed, he grabbed his bags and went inside.

When he came into the hallway, he heard noises from the kitchen. He left his things and went to check. In there he found his wife sitting by the table, on lit candle in front of her and a large cup of tea in her hands. She didn’t look up when she heard him come in, nor when he came over, swiped her hair away from her neck and kissed it.
“Hi…I’ve missed you.” he tried. This was a most unusual situation, normally she’d come running outside and greet him when he returned from his trips. When she didn’t reply, he sat down next to her and took one of her hands in his. “Is there something wrong?” he asked. “You seem upset. What is it? “
Finally she looked him in the eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

At first he wasn’t quite ready to believe her. “Are you joking? I mean, you can’t…? How could…? I don’t understand…”
“Well, neither do I!” she interrupted his babbling, as she let go of his hand, got up, went over to the sink and emptied her cup. “I don’t understand it, Dr. Harris doesn’t understand it…but it’s there.” She sounded defensive now, almost irritated. “I felt ill, so I went into his office today.” She skipped the part about sneaking off to buy the test. It just seemed so silly.
“He used one of those, what are they called, intravaginal ultrasound-things so he could see my uterus on a screen (here James flinched from hearing such feminine, intimate words) and then - bam - he tells me I’m three months along! Just like that.” She put her cup down in the bottom of the sink and came back over to the table. - I couldn’t believe it either…“ her voice was calmer as she sat down. “Dr. Harris told me these thing happen sometimes. He said he’d seen stranger occurrences…”
“Three months?” he had trouble grasping it. “And we didn’t know…”
“He said everything looked fine.” Now it was her who took his hand. “Strong heartbeat, normal development…Everything is normal except from the fact that it’s us having it.”

“So…” he wasn’t sure how to ask. “What do you think? How do you feel about it?”
“I’ve been sitting here, pondering, all night. And you know what?” he could see the tiniest of smiles on her lips. “I actually think it could be really nice.” Still holding his hand in hers, she stroke her finger across his palm. “You?”
“I think so, too.” He got up and pulled her close to him. They stood there, in the kitchen, by the table with the single burning candle, holding each other at two in the morning.
“It could be nice”, he whispered into her hair. “I mean, you and I can do anything, why not give this a shot?”
“I love you so much…” she whispered back. He let go of her waist, put his hands around her face and kissed her forehead. “I love you too. A lot.” He yawned. “Also, there’s no way I’m gonna believe any of this really happened when I way wake up in the morning.”

Not long after, they both crawled into bed and snuggled up together. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his deep breaths.
“It’s gonna be really strange, you know,” she mumbled into the darkness. “And exhausting, probably. We’re not as young as we used to be, after all.”
“Ahg, who is?” he pulled the duvet closer around her. “And what can we do about it?”
“Wow, you almost sound philosophical!” she said with a little giggle.
“Did Dr. Harris give you one of those, what do they call them, due dates?” he asked with sudden curiosity. “If you’re three months along now and - it usually takes nine, doesn’t it, than that makes it…”
“Around mid-January” she completed his string of thought.
“Gives us some time to prepare. We’ll have to get an extra bedroom in order, I guess.”
“You men!” she sighed. “Always so damn practical.” She closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. He lied awake for a little longer, staring into the dark room.
“Mid-January, huh?” she heard him whisper as she drifted off into her dreams. “It’s going to be strange, yes, that’s for sure.”

Days went by, and somehow they both felt it was safest not to talk to much about the news they had received. It was all so new and unfamiliar, and neither of them really knew how to relate to it, how to bring it up in a conversation and talk about it as if it was really going to happen. And so, for the first few weeks, the issue that was on both their minds constantly was hardly discussed at all.

Then one day - one morning, as she was getting ready to go to work, she couldn’t take it any longer. She’d already put her coat and her boots on, and was heading for the door. Then suddenly she turned around and went back into the living room, where he was sorting some music sheets.
“So. The baby,” she said. James looked up from his work, with a surprised expression on his face. “I just wanted to know,” she continued, “Are we telling people?”
“Telling people?”
“Yes, are we telling the people we know that we’re having a baby? Or do we keep it to ourselves for a while longer?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I just wanted to hear what you think.”
“Well…why not, I guess?” he said with a shrug. “People are going to know sooner or later.”
“Ok.” Her face lit up. “I’ll call my sister from the car. Maybe I’ll tell a few people at work. And then I‘ll make some more calls when I get home, I guess.”
“Great. Maybe I‘ll tell someone, too.”
“Yeah.” Somehow she doubted he would do that. He was working from home doing some arranging this week, so he probably wouldn’t see anyone. And he wasn’t the type to run around to the neighbours to talk about what was going on. “But now I have to run. I’ll see you tonight.” She blew him a kiss, and off she went.

He tried to concentrate on the papers in front of him, but he was no longer able to. He felt disturbed by the fact that Anna had several people to share her news with, while he apparently didn’t have any. “I suppose I could call some of the guys from the orchestra,” he though to himself. Then again, no. He wasn’t all that close to any of them despite having been their colleague for years, and though he could certainly mention it to them the next time they got together for work, it would seem unnatural to call them up for no other purpose than to let them know that his wife was pregnant.
Then it suddenly hit him. “I’ll call Clive”.

Clive worked as a production manager at the local theatre, and James had gotten to know him a few years earlier when he did some work on a musical production there. Clive was impressed with his skills, and to this day he always turned to James when the theatre needed a live music group in their productions. James would then put together a group and arrange the music himself. The pieces he was working on at the moment were for this purpose; “The King And I” was to be performed later in the fall. “It fits perfectly” he thought. “He’ll be waiting for me to call about the arrangements. While we’re discussing that, I’ll just mention…our news.”

Clive was a man he got very well along with, one of the few people he’d met through his job that he actually spent time outside of work with. Not a lot of time, maybe, but still. He’d been to Clive’s home a couple of times, where he’d met his wife (a nice, charming, easy going woman) and his two teenaged daughters (who were also charming and nice. More so than most teenagers he‘d met, anyhow). Clive was a family man, who often talked about his children and the things they achieved. “Surely he won’t think it strange that I tell him?” James thought as he went to look for the phone.
Clive seemed glad to hear from him.
“James, hi! How’s it going? Working hard day and night for us?” he joked.
“Yeah. It’s going good, actually. I think I have some good ideas.” James took a deep breath before he continued. “And…I have some news.”
“All right?” Clive sounded interested.
“Anna is pregnant.” There, now he’d said it.
“What?!” He could hear that Clive wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. It’s peculiar, isn’t it? All these years thought we didn’t have that opportunity. . Biggest shock of my life, I’ll tell you that much.”
“But that’s great!” Clive sounded generally happy. “It’s amazing! Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” James was smiling too, now. “We’re looking forward to it. I mean, yes, it’s a bit late in life and all, but it didn’t happen until now, so what can you do?”
“Right, right.” Clive was silent for a moment. “So, when is it happening?”
“Mid-January.” James answered quickly, he had the time burned into his mind.
“Wow. Let me tell you, James, you have something huge ahead of you. It’s the greatest thing you’ll ever experience. Sure, there are ups and downs, it’s not utter bliss all the time, but all in all it’s something truly amazing. It changes your life completely.”
“I’m beginning to understand that…” James was a little overwhelmed. Even for an open and talkative guy like Clive, this was quite a statement. He was glad he had called.
After having promised he’d send Clive’s and his family’s love to Anna, he hung up.

That evening when Anna came home, she found her husband waiting for her in the kitchen, the dinner ready on the stove. This was no unusual occurrence when he’d spent the day at home. What was unusual was his upbeat mood. He came running once he heard her come in, kissed her on the cheek and escorted her to the table. He pulled the chair out for her so she could sit down. Then he began putting food on the plates, all while whistling a cheerful melody.
“What are you so happy about?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Oh, nothing.” He brought the plates over, handed her one and placed the other by his own seat. “Did you tell anyone today?” he asked supposedly casually as he began to eat.
“Mhm”. She had to swallow the food in her mouth before she could go on . “I called Marie. And I told Linda and Meredith. They were all kind of shocked, you know, what else would you expect,  but they seemed happy for us. Marie says she’s thrilled the boys are finally getting a cousin.”
“Good, good.” He waited a few seconds. “I told Clive. I had to call him anyway, for work. He and the family sends you their love.”

She got it now. She put down her fork and reached over the table to run her hand over his.
“That’s great, James. Really, great.” She smiled at him.
“I just thought, you know, that I should tell him.” He smiled awkwardly back at her. “Anyway…” He cleared his throat. “About that extra bedroom. I’m thinking we should use the one next to ours. It’s a little smaller than the one up the hall, but since it’s closer…”
“Sure.” She was still smiling as she retracted her hand and took another bite. “I think that would be the best, too.”

Summer came and went. She became aware of the fact that her pregnancy was starting to show - and she decided not to hide it. Being the age she was she got some strange looks here and there, more with each month, but she tried very had not to care. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” she reminded herself. “I should be displaying my condition with pride, not hiding it behind huge sweaters and dresses.” And so she kept trying to ignore other people’s looks. She tried to convince herself that it was all in her head.

What made it harder to act this way was the fact that her husband also had trouble with accepting that her body changed. It was as if he was afraid to recognize that she’d grown a belly - he never looked in that direction. He was very specific to keep eye-contact with her during conversation, not to let his eyes drop below her neck. In bed, he didn’t sleep with his arms around her anymore, he simply put his hands on her shoulders. Or he’d simply kiss her neck good night, roll over and sleep facing the other direction. In a way she found it sweet and slightly amusing - it was as if he was afraid his touch would hurt her. Thoughts like this helped her block out the other option, the one she couldn’t bare to think of; that he found her new body shape disgusting.

Then one evening, one September evening, she was standing in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. She’d just gotten out of the bathtub and had put a robe on, but she hadn’t bothered tying  it up. Suddenly she saw his reflection behind hers in the mirror, coming through the door.

He came over to her, and stood behind her for a while, just standing there, looking at their reflection. None of them said a word. She could see that he let his eyes dip, and for the first time in a long time, he looked at her body. She finished brushing her teeth, and put the brush back on the sink. She considered slipping past him, to go to bed, but the look on his face told her that he was standing behind her for a reason. It was as if he was trying to convince himself to take action.

And then he did it. He put his hand around her and placed it on her belly.  As he touched her with his hand she could feel that he was shivering, he seemed nervous, afraid to do something wrong. She placed her hand over his and moved it further down. He flinched as he felt a strong kick.

“Was that…?”
“Uh-hum.” She had a content smile on her face.
“Has it been…doing that, for a long time?”
“A short while,” she answered, noticing that he put his other arm around her as well and placed both hands on the belly. “I didn’t think you’d be interested, so I didn’t tell you.”
“I’m interested,” he stated, keeping his hands still, feeling the little kicks hit the skin beneath his hands over and over again. “I’m just…not good at this, Anna, I’m sorry. I’m trying, I am, really.”
She leaned backwards, on his chest, and put her arms up around his neck.
“You’re doing fine, honey,” she told him, as he began to rub her skin slightly, his hands shivering no longer. “Just fine.”

Winter came. She kept growing bigger, and, in his eyes, more beautiful, every day. She became more tired, her ordinary work exhausted her, and when she came home at night she’d be to tired to really do much. He explained his situation to his employers and was allowed to take more time off - he couldn’t bare to travel at this point, leaving her to herself. What if something happened to her, to them?
Less travelling meant less work, which meant less money, but they were all right. He kept telling himself something would come up, something local.

And now he also had more time to finish projects around the house. One evening not long before Christmas, she came home from work and found him painting the walls in the soon-to-be nursery.  He’d picked a beautiful shade of green, it reminded her of spring,  the smell off fresh grass, climbing tall trees. Most expectant mothers would have been angry at their husbands for making such important decisions on their own - she was thrilled that he’d taken the initiative.

She kept getting bigger, and she began to talk about the delivery She bought books on the subject, she discussed it with her friends, she found out what hospital they should go to, what things she would need to bring…things he’d never thought about. He realized he knew very little about the process, and secretively he began to do some “research” of his own. Whenever he was on his own and was sure no-one could hear or see what he was doing, he’d try to find out more about this phenomena called birth. At first he’d study the pictures in the books that Anna had bought. No harm, was there? She’d left them out on the table. The pictures showed women in what seemed like complete agony, screaming, crying - nothing beautiful and miraculous about it as far as he could tell. He wondered how Anna could get by, knowing that she’d have to face this in not too long.

After the books, he went digging into their DVD-collection. Anna collected “Friends” “Absolutely Fabulous” and “Grey’s Anatomy”, he was more of a “Cheers”, “Fraiser” and “House”-man himself. He’d find all the episodes that featured someone giving birth, and watch them on his laptop. What he found was not uplifting. More pain, torture, yelling… By now he simply couldn’t understand why any women agreed to do this at all.

One night as they were lying in bed about to fall asleep, he tried bringing up the subject.
“Anna?”
“What?” she mumbled, already half asleep.
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Scared of what?”
Maybe it was a stupid question, how would he know? But he couldn’t let it go with that.
“Of the pain? Aren’t you scared it will hurt?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what he was on about.
“No, I don’t think so,” she concluded, and turned over, once again to get some sleep. He still didn’t understand how she could remain so calm, but decided not to bring it up again.

On Christmas eve they kept to themselves. She was too tired to go anywhere, let alone organize a gathering. They ordered food to be delivered and ate it in front of the fireplace. He jokingly asked if he’d have to dress up as Santa Clause the following year, she was completely serious as she told him he could wait until the year after that.

---

Clive had just helped his wife to take out the Christmas tree when he got the call. His oldest daughter was in the kitchen sharing what was left of the gingerbread with the dog, his youngest daughter was in her room listening to her new I-pod and chatting with friends on her new laptop. Clive was just about to get started on taking down the Christmas lights when the phone in his pocket began to sing “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”. Changing the ringtone, one more step on the way to getting the holiday season out of the house, he thought as he answered the call. He was surprised to hear James’ voice at the other end.

“James, old friend! Any news yet?”
“Well, yeah. Now we have a little girl. She came this morning, actually.”
“Congratulations! Is everything all right?”
“Everything is great. Anna’s good. The baby’s good. We’re all good.” James yawned. “A little tired, that’s all.”
“Had to get up early, did you?” Clive chuckled.
“She woke me up at five, said her contractions had started. I was so scared I thought I was going to pass out, to be honest.” The huge adrenaline rush and the lack of sleep made James unusually open and chatty. “But we got to the hospital, they examined her, they said the baby’s heartbeat was good, that Anna’s stress levels were fine…I just kept thinking that mine were through the roof, you know?”
“I know, I remember the feeling.” Clive assured him.
“So, there we go, and you know what surprised me? How undramatic it all was. I pictured tons of people, the machines beeping, all that fancy equipment... But it was just one doctor, one nurse, and a bed, that was it. No shouting, no stress.” James took a deep breath. “And then she just came out. Just like that. One…one perfect little girl.” James relived the moment in his head, and it made him feel nice and warm inside. “Screaming from the top of her lungs - she’s going to have her mother’s singing voice, I know she is.”

“That’s wonderful, James. Wonderful.” Clive paused for a second. “You know what? You sound so different! You sound so…I guess “full of life” would be an appropriate cliché.”
“Well, you know what they say, Clive,” James said with a smile on his face. “Life starts in your midfifties.”


Word count: 5667.