Part 26: Any day now
Eight days from Wendy's due date, there is movement on the baby front.

"She seemed ready to go last night," Andy reports, between customers. "She said, 'Don't go to bed. I'm nervous.' "

Nothing happened, but Wendy is clearly getting ready to deliver. She has been for a few weeks now. She complains of twinges, pains near her ribs and back, feelings of heaviness and pressure, dizziness and numbness.

At her last checkup, midwife Christine Pfeiffer told her the baby has dropped into position to be born. Its heartbeat sounded like a galloping horse.

Andy seems not at all nervous, but excited.

Last night, he says, the baby must have stretched out a leg, because a foot-shaped bump popped out at the top of Wendy's abdomen.

All in all, he says, it's been a good nine months. "I think Wendy handled it well," he says. "With Rachel, it was different. Two different pregnancies. Totally. Two different pregnancies."

Does he think that's because Wendy is so clear-headed about this being Kathy's baby?

Andy gives a cautious smile. "That's the impression we get," he says. "We'll see what happens."

He and his helper drive off to the next stop, and another swarm of hungry shop workers.

One customer, asked if he misses Wendy says, sure. "Who wants to look at him? She listens to ya, anyway. He's too busy collecting."

"What are these pictures for?" some customers want to know, upon noticing the Journal-Bulletin photographer.

"Caterer of the Year," says Andy. "Best caterer in the state."

"Shake my hand, willya!" says one man, pretending to be impressed, and Andy obliges.

"And you thought I was nothing, huh?" he says.

* * *

The next stop Andy makes - to Salvadore Tool - is special.

Its co-owner Amleto "Mal" Salvadore, thinks so much of Andy and Wendy, he helped finance the purchase of their catering truck. "They're good people," he says. "They work hard."

Every day, Mal has a cup of coffee and some cookies from the truck. And "they won't take my money."

Now Andy closes a metal flap over the steaming food; he'd better move on, he's late.

"Any day now," he tells Mal and his son Tom, as he climbs into the truck.

"She must be in a lot of pain," says Tom.

"Lot of discomfort," says Andy.

"Call me when it happens," says Mal.

I will, says Andy: It may be tonight.