Trainwreck
	Monday morning I had a meeting with Mr. Ryder.  He pronounced his judgment: I was not worthy.  He said the two cases I brought to him were a pathetic example of research, and if I didn?t have better by Friday I would be off the case, and my job would be in jeopardy.  I tried to explain the situation with my fiancee, but Mr. Ryder didn?t seem like the type that took excuses too well.  I had also been told when I was hired that the firm liked a clean family environment, and they frowned on the sort of relationship I was involved with.  The message was pretty clear:  marry her or else. The rescheduling of the wedding was finally finished.  It would take place on the next Saturday.  Things would be a little rushed, but we could handle it.  That was Tuesday morning.  The contractions started on Wednesday. I took her to the hospital at about 3 p.m. on Wednesday.  The doctor said that the contractions were extremely far apart, but because of the birth?s prematureness, Nicole should stay in the hospital.  I called her mother. ?Well then we must have the wedding tonight,? Moma Rosa said. ?Nicole can?t leave the hospital,? I tried to argue, ?let?s be realistic.  We can?t have the wedding tonight.? ?Don?t you say can?t to me! There is a chapel downstairs, no?  There we will have the wedding.  I must call the family.? With that I was dismissed.  I stared disbelievingly at the phone for a minute, until the dial tone woke me up to the reality of the moment.  My soon-to-be wife is in the midst of delivering a baby.  And I still didn?t have any good research to show Mr. Ryder for Friday. Half of the family showed up at the hospital at about 7 p.m. looking like a Corleone reunion.  Each family member insisted on talking to the doctor himself to check on Nicole?s condition.  No family member wanted to talk to me.  The doctor said that the contractions were far enough apart that it would be safe to wait until morning to have the wedding;  he wanted Nicole to get some rest tonight.  She had a big day ahead of her. That night I researched at the library until early in the morning.  I was so exhausted that I didn?t even know if I?d gotten any worthwhile research done.  I ended up sleeping on a stack of books. I woke up to the janitor turning on all the lights.  My watch said it was six in the morning, but I didn?t believe it.  I?d just laid my head down a minute ago... Then, of course, the realization hit me, ?Shit!  I?m getting married in two hours!? The janitor looked at me as if I?d lost it as I tried to stuff papers in my briefcase as I ran out the door.   Another land speed record and I?m at my house to clean myself up.  For some odd reason I wore my tuxedo, even though Nicole would be wearing a hospital nightgown. If I?d had time to step back and look at things, the ceremony was rather humorous.  The priest had a large mustache that made him look a little like Father Guido Sarducci.  The bride was wearing a hospital gown.  Her family made it look like a mob meeting was going on.  And, since we couldn?t have a closed wedding in the hospital, some of the senile people from Ward 3 showed up in their wheelchairs to get a little entertainment.  And entertainment they got.  As soon as the priest had finished the vows, and told me that I could kiss the bride... do I even have to say it?  It was time. I believe the doctor told me later that Nicole had set a new hospital record for the longest birthing process.  The wedding was over at about 9 a.m., and my son was born at 12:45 a.m. on Friday.  We named him... Tony.  After every one of her male relatives. I left the hospital at 2 a.m. to try to organize my research for Mr. Ryder.  The last thing Nicole said to me before I left was: ?Don?t forget, we are having a wedding and baby reception at our house Saturday morning.  I love you.? ?Love you too,? I said, then muttered under my breath, ?reception, one more thing to do.? When I arrived home, I opened my briefcase to sort my papers, and immediately fell asleep.  I woke up wearing one sock, my undershirt, and the bow tie from the tuxedo.  Don?t ask me how.  All I knew is that I needed to be in Mr. Ryder?s office in exactly thirty-seven minutes with the answers to his problems. Somehow I got to his office in forty-two minutes, luckily he didn?t notice.  I started to apologize, but he didn?t let me.  He immediately took my briefcase form me and started sorting through my research.  I had a very bad feeling about this. He looked up from the papers at me and said, ?I talked to Nicole?s father this morning.  He doesn?t like you very much.? I was appalled.  My new father-in-law had called my boss and told him his personal feelings towards me.  I started to stammer an answer, but Mr. Ryder cut me off. ?Don?t worry, Tony Gondino is an old friend of mine.  I know he?s a hard ass.  I hear you named your son after him;  he?ll treat you better now.? I was completely shocked.  Mr. Ryder had never spoken to me in this casual tone before.  It kind of made me uneasy. ?Let me tell you Andrew, I?m impressed.  Tony told me what you went through this week, and you still got some decent research done.  You?ve done well.  Let me take you out to lunch.? Talk about an offer I couldn?t refuse.  Mr. Ryder spent the rest of the day telling me old stories that I politely listened to, but didn?t give the slightest bit of a damn about.  I figured that this must be what it?s like when other people do your research for you. Every Italian in the world was at my house on Saturday.  I picked up an accent just being around them all day.  My wife looked beautiful carrying around my new baby, and her family was actually treating me nicely.  Everything seemed to be changing for the better until... lunch.  There were a million hungry Italian men named Tony lined up in my kitchen to eat, and my wife turned and said to me: ?Honey, where did you put all the canned ham I asked you to buy?? The most frantic two weeks of my life, and all I forgot was the canned ham.  My two weeks and canned ham.  Doesn?t seem so bad does it?  Tell that to a hungry Italian named Tony.
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Trainwreck

Two weeks.  The most confusing, wonderful, disastrous...  two weeks.  Two weeks and a canned
ham, but I?ll get to that later.

It was last year in early spring when my two weeks and canned ham started.  I wish I could say that
what I remember most about that time was the trees and flowers, all of nature being full of new life,
but honestly, during that time I was lucky if I noticed if my socks matched.  My fiancee was very
pregnant;  I guess you could say it would have been a shotgun wedding, but I was more than willing.  
Anyway, it started the last week in April...

I had only been working for the Ryder and Edwards law firm for about two months.  I was a very
junior associate.  I was assigned to my first big case helping Thomas Ryder research precedents for a
tax case he was working on, real exciting.  When I say helping Mr. Ryder, I mean that I looked up
precedents and he told me if I was worthy or not.  Anyway, it was still a break for me.  This came on
Monday of the first week.

Nicole and I had planned our wedding for the second week in May, but our plans were soon to
change.  The baby was due a week after the wedding.  It was planned so that the baby would be
born with a father, not some sort of bastard-child.  What difference a week would have made is
beyond me, but hey, I never said that I wear the pants in the family (in fact, her mother probably
does).  So when we went in for the regular checkup on the Wednesday of the first week, and the
doctor said Nicole was showing signs of an early birth... well needless to say our wedding plans were
going to be changed.

Our wedding was going to be a small affair anyway, so it wouldn?t be so hard to change, right?  
Well, the priest was Nicole?s cousin, so it wasn?t so hard to change his schedule around, but the fifty
or so other Italians that Nicole had invited weren?t so flexible (I tried to tell her that a small affair was
what I thought I was in for when I met her, not what our wedding was turning into).  Finally, we set
up an ?on-call? system, where most of her family (oh yeah, mine too) would try to keep their
schedules open so that when we arranged to have everything else set up, as many of them could be
there as possible.  It seemed ludicrous to me, but I didn?t dare argue with her mother.  Their system
was accomplished by Friday night of the first week.

Did I mention that my first report to Mr. Ryder was due on Monday of the second week?  I was
supposed to have spent a lot of ?quality time? in the law library at the firm that week, but all I had
found in the library was a case about an old man who tried to get out of paying his taxed by claiming
that he had died.  It really didn?t have anything to do with Mr. Ryder?s case, but I was interested.  
Anyway, I hadn?t had much available time for library research that week, so I devoted my weekend
to the task.

Saturday morning I went into the office early and spent about three hours researching in the library.  I
had found a couple of cases that actually applied to Mr. Ryder?s case when at about eleven thirty my
beeper went off.  It was home.  I went to my office (a nice, windowless office which also doubled as
the corridor to the men?s bathroom) and called Nicole.  As I dialed the familiar number I could just
iagine what the problem was: Uncle Tony can?t make it, or the priest has the flu.  When Nicole
answered, however, I became serious immediately.  I could tell from the quiver in her voice that it
was important.

?Andy, it?s starting,? she whined.

?Holy mother-fuckin? shit!?  It took me close to a minute to realize that I really needed to take some
sort of action.  After I semi-composed myself I said, ?Stay there, uh, I?ll be over as soon as possible.
 Don?t forget to breathe.?

As I quickly gathered y things and ran to my car I said to myself, ?Don?t forget to breathe?  What the
hell?s that mean?  Like she?s going to suffocate herself??  I had meant to tell her to use her breathing
techniques, but I was so excited that I confused myself.  I doubt she noticed.

I think I set a new land speed record driving home, but when I arrived I was confronted with:

?I?m sorry, false alarm.?

My adrenaline flow was so great that I could feel the seams of my blood vessels stretching.  ?False
alarm??  I couldn?t believe it.  It didn?t matter anyway, she made me stay home the rest of the day
just in case.  So I didn?t get any more research done.

Sunday was a rather uneventful day, for a change.  Nicole?s Italian family required that I go to mass
with them.  After the service we also had to have counseling with the priest about the marriage.  He
disapproved of me, as did her family, because they felt that the pregnancy was all my fault.  Due to
this, our counseling sessions usually turned into the priest trying to get me to repent of my sins.