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~~~April 28, 2004~~~
Wednesday came, and Ben was pronounced in perfect health for the operation. Ray took him home, then drove to the airport to pick up his mother and his younger sister. Francesca, as usual, had failed to pack lightly, and the ride to the hotel was filled with good-natured grumbling about the load on the Riv's back tires. The luggage was dropped off, and the three of them descended on the apartment.
"Benton!" Francesca threw her arms around him in an exuberant greeting that reminded Ben vaguely of the way Diefenbaker had behaved as a puppy. Mrs. Vecchio sat beside him on the bed, pinched his cheek, and kissed him on the forehead. The two of them then proceeded to regale him with pregnancy and baby stories until Ray noticed that his partner was beginning to resemble a squirrel caught in the headlights, whereupon he casually mentioned that he was starting dinner. His mother, irrationally convinced that Ray could not cook, immediately excused herself and hurried into the kitchen, taking Francesca with her. Within minutes, they were puttering happily, and Ray escaped back into the bedroom.
"Just like home, huh?"
"Mm." Ben kissed him tiredly. "I think I'm out of practice."
Ray laughed. "I'll try and keep them out of your hair. At least you'll be checking into the hospital tomorrow, so you won't have to deal with them for too long. And then after that, they'll be too interested in the baby to bother you much."
"Oh, they don't bother me, Ray. I'm actually quite glad they're here; it's just a little..."
"Yeah. They do tend to get that way. Just think how it'll be when we get home."
"I remember."
"Hey, maybe we can--"
"Raimondo!" He was cut short by a call from the kitchen. "Where do you keep the oregano?"
He rolled his eyes and kissed the top of Ben's head as he got up. "Duty calls. You need anything?"
"Could you pass me the remote?" Ben asked as he reached for his half-finished blanket.
"You're getting soft," Ray commented as he handed it over. "I may have to ship you back to the Yukon."
The ball of yarn bounced neatly off the closing bedroom door.
Dinner was held picnic-style around the bed, with Mrs. Vecchio hovering over Ben and waiting on him hand and foot. Francesca actually volunteered to wash the dishes, for the first time anyone could remember, and her mother let her go while she stayed behind to admire Ben's crocheting. After a few minutes of comparing stitches, she turned to her son.
"Raimondo, go help your sister. I want to talk to Benton."
He glanced questioningly at Ben, who gave him an equally blank look in return. "Ok. Back in a few."
When the door had latched behind him, she laid down the section of blanket she'd been holding and took Ben's hand. "Benton, there is something that I would like to give you. I was not sure if you would find it appropriate, but..."
"If it's from you, Sofia, I'm sure it will be perfect."
She smiled. "When each of my children was born, I gave them a gift. Each the same, so that they would know that they belonged. Here." She released his hand and dug into her capacious purse, extracting a small white box, which she handed to him shyly.
He lifted the lid and folded back pale blue tissue paper. "Oh, Sofia." The tears that had come more frequently in the last few months than in the previous thirty-five years threatened to fall again as he picked up the two gold crosses, identical to the one Ray wore around his neck. The back of one was engraved with the initials "BF;" the other was blank.
"I didn't know what initials to put for the little one. If you accept, I will have it engraved when we return home."
"Accept? Sofia, they're the best gift I've ever been given. Thank you." He kissed her warmly on the cheek, and she beamed.
"Then may I...?" she picked up the engraved cross by its chain and undid the clasp.
"Please." He bent his head, and she fastened the charm around his neck.
"There. And now, I think it is time that Francesca and I go and leave you two alone. You are always so polite, and you never tell us when we are becoming too much for you."
"Sofia, really, I--"
"Shh. It's all right, Benton. We will see you tomorrow, all right? This is a very important time for you, and you should try to relax."
"I... all right."
"Good boy. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Sofia. And, thank you."
"You're welcome. Goodnight."
~~~~April 30, 2004~~~
"Morning, Ben. Today's the big day, huh?"
Ben awoke from his light sleep with a start. "What time is it?"
"About a quarter to seven. Your family's here."
"Already?"
She nodded as she turned pages on his chart. "I came in about six, and there were two women sitting in the waiting room, and Ray was arguing with the receptionist. I brought them into the lounge. Your mother and sister?"
"Ray's." He watched, puzzled, as she busily wrote on the chart and prepared to take his blood pressure. "Wouldn't this normally be done by a nurse?"
Dr. Young looked up with a wry half-smile. "Normally," she agreed. "It's a big day for me too. Since Dr. Baker will be performing the surgery, I--"
"The head of the department?"
"You remembered. I'll be assisting, as resident expert on male pregnancy in general and you in particular," she winked at him, "but he'll be in charge. That man has performed more unusual and complicated C-sections than anyone I know."
"Mm," Ben grunted around the thermometer. "Thounds like I'll be in good handth."
"The best. So anyway, there's not much for me to do right now, and I needed to keep busy."
"Don't let me thtop you."
She removed the thermometer from his mouth and the cuff from his arm, noted the temperature and pressure, and hung the chart from the foot of his bed. "Looks like everything is just fine. The nurses will be in about an hour from now to prep you for surgery, so you've got a while to wait. Would you like me to send your family in?"
He shook his head. "Just Ray, if you don't mind."
"No problem. Try to relax, and I'll see you at nine."
The door closed softly behind her, and reopened a few minutes later to admit a very nervous-looking Ray.
"Morning, Benny. How're you doing?" He approached cautiously and pulled up a chair.
"Scared stiff. And you?"
"About the same. This is really going to happen, isn't it?"
Ben bit his lip and nodded. "In one hour and fifty-six minutes."
Ray took his hand wordlessly, and they held on tight.
*****
The hour passed quickly, and soon a pair of nurses arrived. With a final squeeze of Ben's hand, Ray allowed himself to be ushered out of the room by the shorter, blond nurse, who took him upstairs and gave him a pair of scrubs to change into. The taller nurse stayed with Ben and began the preparations.
Shaved, scrubbed, sedated, and feeling the first effects of the epidural anaesthetic, he was wheeled down the hallway and into an elevator. They were a few minutes early, and he found himself parked in the hallway with ample opportunity to look around. While he knew of them, he had never been in an operating room built with an audience in mind, and the setup reminded him oddly of a police interrogation room. He noted somewhat selfconsciously that the benches were already nearly full, and he tried to amuse himself by picking out faces.
Several of them he recognized as members of Dr. Young's research team. The young man from the laboratory-- Bruce, he remembered-- was in the back row, next to Cheryl and Corrinne, one or the other of whom had always given him his lab results and answered their questions. One or two of the nurses who moved efficiently about the operating room, setting out trays of gleaming instruments and positioning equipment, had familiar faces, and after a moment's thought he placed two of the serious figures in white coats with clipboards as Drs. Lys and Toscovic, the other obstetricians at the clinic.
The imposing-looking woman in the business suit who sat front and center, he realized with a shock, was Dr. Anagi, the chief administrator. He'd seen photos... after Dr. Walker, who had retired and left a surgical ward named in her honor, hers was the most prestigious name in the hospital. A flash of red caught his eye, and he thought he recognized his father standing in the back of the room, but the figure vanished and he was never sure if it had been real or a trick of the light and the drugs. The sea of other faces, some vaguely familiar, others wholly strange, began to blur together. He smiled as one face, very familiar indeed, appeared at his side.
"Hey, Benny. You ready for this?"
"As I'll ever be." He formed his hand into the symbol for "I love you" as another pair of strong hands took hold of his gurney, and he was wheeled into the delivery room.
*****
"Scalpel."
"Scalpel."
"Forceps."
"Forceps."
"More suction."
"I've got the head... careful now..."
The words flew by Ray's ears as he sat quietly in his corner, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Ben's right foot where it was just visible through the sea of blue-smocked backs. Finally he caught his breath at the one sound he'd been listening for: the sudden, frightened wail of a newborn. A doctor's voice intoned, "Time of birth: nine-twenty-one AM." Someone-- it could have been his mother for all he knew-- came over to him.
"Would you like to cut the cord, Mr. Vecchio?"
He followed numbly as the crowd parted, and he took in the sight of the crying child, still naked and slippery with fluid, cradled securely in white-gloved hands. A pair of scissors was placed in his hand, and he watched himself cut through the cord where it was held out to him. The scissors were taken away, and he looked around the partition at Ben's face. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted in an expression of pure bliss as he listened to the music of his daughter's voice.
"Uh, oh, better watch this one, y'all. Looks like we might have a fainter on our hands." Genial blue eyes twinkled at him above a surgical mask, and he smiled peacefully in return as the world went dark.
*****
"Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray..."
The voice trickled through his dreams, and he followed it back to consciousness like a bubble surfacing in a pond.
"Ray."
"Hrrum?"
"Ah, good, you're awake."
"Hm? Whahappend?
"You lost consciousness during the operation."
"Operation? It's over? How long was I out?"
"You woke up briefly as they were carrying you out. Aside from that, about forty-two minutes."
"How the hell do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Tell the time like that."
"It's very simple, really, Ray. Our daughter was born at 9:21, which they announced, and you collapsed almost immediately after, which they also announced. It is now--"
"Our daughter-- Benny, we're parents!"
"Yes, Ray." Ben looked rather smug.
"Parents. Us. You and me."
"Yes, Ray."
"How the hell can you be so calm about this? It's just like when... you do this just to irritate me, don't you?"
"Yes, Ray." Unable to keep a straight face any longer, Ben collapsed back into his pillows, giggling helplessly and clutching at his abdomen, where the anaesthetic was beginning to wear off and his laughter made the incision painful.
Ray heaved himself off of the spare hospital bed and crossed to Ben's, where he made a show of pretending to strangle him. Ben grabbed his hands and grinned up at him through a haze of maternal hormones, and Ray relented and kissed him thoroughly instead.
*****
Ray had been awake for about twenty minutes, by Ben's calculations, when there was a knock on the door and yet another blue-smocked figure appeared. Ray let out a resigned sigh.
"Oh, hello, Alessandra," Ben greeted the nurse.
Ray muttered under his breath, "You can tell them apart?" and received a subtle elbow in the ribs.
"Is everything all right?" Ben continued.
"You tell me. Are you up to a visitor?"
Ray leaped as though he had been stung. "Damn! Ma! I completely forgot... she and Frannie must have practically eaten each other alive by now. Yeah, send 'em in. Benny?"
Ben nodded his acquiescence, the nurse disappeared back into the hall, and they braced themselves for the sudden appearance of a pair of highly excited Vecchio women. Instead, the nurse reappeared, backing into the room with a bassinet in tow. She parked it at the foot of the bed, lifted the tiny blanketed bundle it contained into her arms, turned around, and laughed. The two men were watching her every move with perfectly round eyes, and neither had moved a single non-ocular muscle since the infant had come into view.
"Well? Doesn't anybody want to hold her?"
Instantly they sprang into life, four arms reaching out and two voices clamoring with words of love. She hesitated and glanced from one to the other, then moved forward and carefully laid her burden in Ben's arms.
The hands that had been confident and sure as they comforted and cared for a child abandoned in the backseat of a car, that had been calm and steady as they wiped the waters of birth from the mouth and nose of an Inuit child in the lee of a snowbank, trembled as for the first time he pulled his own close to his chest. Ray shifted carefully to face them and laid his hand on Ben's arm where the tiny head rested, completing the circle. The nurse watched them for a moment and then, satisfied that all was well, she slipped away unnoticed.
A solid five minutes passed without a sound, spent in happy contemplation of wrinkled red face and wispy dark curls and tiny starlike hands. A wide yawn that seemed ready to swallow itself whole made Ray's hand tighten convulsively, and Ben nudged his hip in acknowledgement. Finally finding a voice, he breathed, "She's beautiful, Benny."
Ben nodded, never taking his eyes off the child in his arms. Suddenly his head snapped up, with a smile that said he had just been handed the keys to the world, and one word on his lips. "Abigail."
Ray was startled out of his own near-trance. "What?"
"Abigail. Her name. It means, 'her father's joy.' What do you think?"
Ray looked down again, brushing a little hand with one finger and smiling in wonder as it clasped the end. "Abigail," he murmured. "Abigail. Abbie." He raised his eyes with a smile that matched Ben's own. "It's perfect."
"So is she."
*****
Abigail Vecchio Fraser spent another half hour alone with her parents, effortlessly keeping them entertained through the arduous task of sleeping. At the end of that time, they were interrupted, and she graciously consented to amuse her grandmother and aunt as well.
The two women were a bit surprised at her name, but approved it wholeheartedly when they heard its meaning, then fell to exclaiming softly in an ecstasy of admiration. A consensus was reached that Abbie was in possession of ten fingers and ten toes, had Ray's forehead and Ben's nose, and was altogether wonderful. She was also, it turned out, possessed of the Vecchio voice, as she opened dark blue eyes, screwed them shut again, and screamed.
Ben lifted her to his shoulder and rocked and soothed, but to no avail. Seeing his panicked expression, and recognising that Ray was just as flustered, Sofia unhesitatingly broke the solemn promise her son had extracted from her not to offer unsolicited advice. "She is only hungry, poor bambino."
Instead of the reproachful glare she'd expected, Ray only looked relieved, and Ben vaguely grateful as he lifted the wailing baby from his shoulder and spoke to her softly. Inspection of the basinette yielded nothing, so the call button was pressed and a nurse came hurrying. Francesca met her at the door and explained the situation, and the nurse left to fetch a bottle.
It was Dr. Young who brought the bottle a few minutes later. She was still wearing her surgical scrubs, and explained briefly that the post-operation surgical conference had just broken up as she handed it over. She reintroduced herself to Sofia and Frannie, then asked to speak to Ben and Ray alone.
"Of course," Sofia answered. "Raimondo, don't worry about driving us back to the hotel. We will take the bus. Benton, te amo, take good care of my granddaughter, and we will see you tomorrow." She leaned over the bed to receive her customary peck on the cheek from each of her sons, then kissed her fingers and pressed them to the now-quietly-feeding Abbie's forehead.
Francesca took her place as she moved toward the door. "Goodbye, Ray," she said, hugging her brother. "Congratulations."
"Thanks, Frannie. Hey, I'll come see you guys at the hotel in a couple hours, OK?"
"No hurry." She turned to Ben with a one-armed hug and a kiss. "Congratulations, Benton." She wiggled her fingers at the baby. "Bye bye, Abbie."
Ben looked up at her with his million-watt smile. "Thank you kindly, Francesca."
With an answering smile, she followed her mother out of the room. Dr. Young watched them go and carefully shut the door behind them. Pulling up a chair, she sat by the bedside and pulled out the everpresent pen and clipboard.
"So, how is your recovery coming along? Everything all right?"
Ben looked at her blankly. "Fine."
"No pain from the incision, nausea, lightheadedness?"
He shook his head, shifting slightly to prop his daughter a little more upright.
"Now, you called for a bottle... have you noticed any signs of lactation?"
Ben looked up, startled. "I... what kind of signs?"
"Swelling, tenderness, discharge."
"Er..." he stared down at his chest. "They do seem a bit..."
"I suspected they might. Your last blood test, taken just after the operation, showed trace amounts of prolactin and oxytocin, the primary hormones of milk production. They're produced in the pituitary and aren't dependent on the ovaries like the estrogen and progesterone you've been taking throughout the pregnancy. My guess is, if you put her to the breast a time or two, you can probably induce lactation." She stopped to gauge their reactions, and as she had expected, Ray looked vaguely skeptical while Ben appeared intrigued.
"What do you recommend?" Ben asked.
"As a doctor, I must say that in most cases, breast milk is far better for a baby than formula. In the first few days especially, it provides vital antibodies that strengthen the immune system and will make her stronger and healthier. If you think you're up for it, Ben, I'd say go for it."
Ben looked at Ray, who shrugged. "It's your body."
He turned back to the doctor. "All right. How?"
"It's not very complicated. She seems to be finished for now," she said, noticing that Abigail had released her bottle. She watched approvingly as Ray gave Ben a conspiratorial grin, picked up the baby, lifted her to his shoulder and began to pat her back. Ben smiled back as though this were part of some inside joke, and she decided not to ask. "Anyway, the next time she's hungry should be about three hours from now. When that happens, put her to your breast and let her suck. If nothing happens after about a minute, give her the bottle and try again next time. It's the sucking that triggers your body's response, so it may take a few tries. You'll probably always have to supplement with the bottle, and I suggest you wean her before you leave Atlanta, but if you can keep it up for a couple of days or weeks, I think it'll do her a lot of good."
"Thank you kindly."
"No problem. Anything you need, just hit the buzzer. I'll be back in a couple of hours and check you over before I leave for the night. If everything goes well, you should be able to go home tomorrow."
"'K. Thanks, Doc," Ray said, as he walked back and forth with the baby. Abigail had already burped, but he continued to sway with her, and gradually the movements evolved into a dance of joy.
~~~May 1, 2004~~~
"All right, Ben, you're a free man. Sign here, guys, and you can go." Ben took the form and signed it, then held the clipboard so Ray could sign without putting Abbie down. Dr. Young took it back and removed a sheet of paper from the sheaf on the board. "Here are your post-op instructions. We've been over them all before, so you know the drill. Keep the incision clean, avoid undue exertionalthough after what you've been through the last couple of weeks, that should be easy. No more complete bed rest, no more walker, no more oxygen, unless you think you need it. You can get up and walk around as much as you want, just don't push yourself too hard. Let Ray get up for the 2 AM feeding."
The three of them smiled at each other, and Ray lifted the little bundle from his shoulder to smile into sleepy blue eyes. "I can do that," he murmured to her. Without looking away, he added to the two adults who sat watching, "But I expect payback at diaper time."
They made quite a procession on the way out. Two nurses formed an advance guard to open doors for Ben, who was being pushed in his regulation wheelchair by Dr. Young, and Ray, who was carrying Abbie and the diaper bag. Six other assorted members of the clinic's staff brought up the rear, some under the guise of helping to carry things and the rest just to see them off. By the time they were loaded up and ready to go, there were nine small gifts piled up beside the carseat in the back of the Riv.
For the first time in his driving career, Ray stopped at every single stop sign and three yellow lights.
*****
Upon their arrival at the apartment, Ben reveled in the simple act of walking through the door under his own power. His legs were still slightly weak from the weeks of enforced disuse, but it felt wonderful to use them again. Bending over was a bit of a problem, though, and he didn't protest when Ray suggested that he stay inside and watch the baby while he brought in the rest of their things.
Taking her into his arms and smiling to himself as she snuggled into his shoulder, he walked slowly around the small apartment. The newspaper lay unfolded on the kitchen table beside a mug containing half an inch of coffee. He imagined Ray checking his watch and bolting out the door without putting them away when he realized it was time to pick the two of them up. He bestowed a soft kiss on his daughter's ear. "He was just so eager to come and see you," he whispered, and she yawned into his neck.
Wandering back through the dining room, he trailed a finger over the closed lid of Ray's laptop, then opened the door to the bedroom. He was met by a profusion of pink. Pink crepe paper streamers festooned the bed, the television, the chair, and every other conceivable object. Pink ribbon bows decorated the four corners of the cribsafely positioned, he noted, with the trailing ends outside and well out of reach of small hands, even if those hands had been strong and controlled enough to reach for them already. A banner reading "Happy Birthday, Abigail" in bright pink lettering was swagged over the top of the window. Ray couldn't have... could he?
The sound of the front door opening alerted him to Ray's presence, and he turned. Carefully closing the bedroom door behind him, he asked, "Ray, did you... um... did you..." he gestured vaguely at the closed door.
Ray set Ben's overnight bag on the floor and glanced up at him with a puzzled expression. His face suddenly cleared, and he turned his attention to emptying his pockets of the stuffed animals from the clinic staff. "Oh, yeah. I didn't have much to do yesterday after they sent me home, since you were in the hospital and Frannie and Ma rented a car and went shopping, and I figured you'd appreciate it. I wasn't sure you'd notice, though."
Luckily, Ray was concentrating on dislodging a pink stuffed rabbit that was stuck in his waistband, and Ben was able to trade his initial disturbed expression for a weak smile. "Um, yes, thank you, Ray. That was very... thoughtful... of you."
"Anytime, Benny." The rabbit successfully removed, Ray bent and picked up the overnight bag, opened the bedroom door, and stopped dead. "What the he--" He bit the expletive short with a sideways glance at his sleeping daughter, then stepped cautiously into the room, looking around him with the expression of a man who has just seen his mother turn into a giant flying blue chipmunk.
Ben followed him into the room. "Does this mean that you didn't...?"
Knees suddenly weak, Ray sat on the end of the bed. "Benny, I had no idea."
Ben closed his eyes in sheer relief and shut the door. Immediately, Ray was on his feet again, grabbing the cluster of pink balloons that had been floating behind it. Suspended from the strings, he found Ben's key to the apartment and the most sickeningly cute "It's A Girl!" card either of them had ever seen. Inside, they read "Gotcha. Love, Frannie" and "Vi amo, bambinos. Ma."
"I'm going to kill them." Ray fought hard to suppress his laughter. "I swear, I'm gonna kill them."
Ben glanced around the bright pink room. "I'll hide the bodies." He met Ray's eyes, and they both gave in. Their laughter woke Abigail, who opened wide blue eyes that focused briefly on the world around her, then began to cry, which made them laugh harder.
Ray put his hand on her back and rubbed in soothing circles as he caught his breath. "I know, babe, it's awful, isn't it? You and I and Benny will have to get Aunt Frannie back for that one. Hey, you hungry?" He looked up at Ben. "I'll go heat up a bottle. You wanna...?"
Ben nodded wordlessly, and he headed for the kitchen. Looking back on the way out, he watched quietly as Ben sat on the end of the bed with his daughter in one arm and began to unbutton his shirt.
*****
"Now there's a picture." Ray paused in the bedroom doorway, the bottle of warm milk he had gone to fetch in one hand. Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed, light blue shirt unbuttoned and his daughter at his breast. Ray kissed him on the cheek and sat beside him. "You are the strangest man I know."
Ben looked up at him and smiled. "It's not unheard of, Ray. Inuit legend is full of stories wherein an infant is found and nursed by a man, usually an elder of the tribe. The child usually grows up to become a great hero."
"Hm. You getting anywhere?"
"I think so. Not much, but it will increase with time. However, I believe she's getting frustrated, so you'd better feed her." He carefully detached Abbie and handed her over to Ray. She latched onto the bottle with a small satisfied noise, and he smiled wryly. "I feel a bit foolish."
"What? Why? You heard what the doctor said, how it's better for her if you can... you know."
"Hmph. Yes." He watched as she drank, not entirely quietly.
"I'm actually kind of jealous."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's crazy, and I never would've believed it before now, but yeah. I'm jealous. I wish I could... you know."
"Oh." Ben slowly rebuttoned his shirt.
"So, um, what's it like?" His hands stilled on the buttons. "I don't know how to describe it. I suppose objectively, it's actually somewhat painful. It aches a bit and my nipples are becoming raw. Subjectively... subjectively it's like nothing on earth. I'm sorry, Ray. I can't." He did up the rest of his buttons efficiently.
"Hm. Another opportunity lost. Here-- your turn to burp."
"Oh, no. You... you go right ahead. Wouldn't want you to miss out," he said with a perfectly straight face.
Ray glared at him, but draped the cloth over his shoulder. "Thanks," he said drily. "I get the fun jobs."
"Well, I'm sorry, Ray, but there are some things which of necessity you cannot share. So I thought, in the interests of equality..." This time he made no attempt to hide the twinkle in his eyes.
"Equality? You get to put it in, I get it when it comes back out? Gee." Abbie belched, and he lifted her and carefully wiped her mouth with a corner of the cloth. "Look, uh, I'm gonna put her down for her nap, and then can we do something about this room? I feel like I've been swallowed by a whale."
Once Abbie was asleep, they put Mozart on the stereo, turned the volume down low, and got down to the serious task of de-pinking the room. The crepe paper went into the recycling bin, and they gave the balloons to a couple with three children who lived on the second floor. They left the "Happy Birthday" banner above the window; it could be folded and tucked into the album later.
The phone rang, and Ben answered it after pulling a pink bow off the receiver. "Hello? Ah, hello, Francesca. Yes, we did receive your... surprise. Yes, um, thank you. It's very...very pink." Ray heard the tinkling sound of laughter coming through the phone, then a voice, apparently asking a question. "Yes, that would be very nice." Ben glanced at his watch. "Four o'clock would be fine. We'll see you then. Thank you kindly. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and tossed the wadded-up bow to Ray, who lobbed it neatly into the recycling bin.
"They're coming over?"
Ben nodded. "Four o'clock. They've offered to cook dinner. I didn't think it would be polite to refuse."
"You're learning. I'm not sure we've got any food, though."
"I believe they were planning on bringing the necessary supplies."
"Oh. Good. We do have dishes and stuff, anyway. While you were in the hospital, I think I washed everything we own."
Ben smiled. "By the way, what was the surprise you had for me? Before you saw the room, you mentioned that you had done something during your free time that you thought I would appreciate."
"Oh, yeah. I got rid of those four workout videos of yours."
"Oh." Ben glanced at the overflowing recycling bin. "Thank you kindly."
Ray followed his gaze. "Did you actually think I did all that?"
"I most sincerely hoped not. I must confess, however, that for a moment I did have my doubts."
"You're kidding. You actually thought that I would do something like that. And think you'd appreciate it."
"I was afraid that perhaps you had hit your head when you fainted yesterday morning."
Ray laughed. "Benny, there's no force in the world that could hit me in the head that hard."
Ben smiled in relief. "Good."
Ray wrapped his arms around Ben's waist. "You realize you're going to have to be punished for doubting me. After you've recovered from the surgery, of course."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "I haven't had a good workout in weeks."
"We'll have to remedy that."
Ben stopped smiling long enough to be thoroughly kissed, readjusting to being embraced without a large barrier in between. He pulled away with a thoughtful expression. "You know, there's a lot to be said for not being nine months pregnant."
*****
Ben groaned slightly and tried to stretch his back without unduly disturbing Abbie, who was working, eyes screwed shut in an expression of intense concentration, on his left breast. Much to his relief, she seemed to be making progress, and he was beginning to relax and enjoy his new ability.
He shifted his aching back again and stretched his arms one at a time. Having proved to himself that breastfeeding on a bed in almost any position was a mistake, he was trying out the armchair. It was a little better, but he was forced to sit just a little too upright for comfort. He found himself having wistful fantasies about the reclining seats in the Riv, and was beginning to seriously contemplate sneaking out to the parking lot when he heard a knock on the door, followed by the click of the latch and Ray's voice welcoming the visitors. A rustle of paper bags and two feminine voices confirmed that Mrs. Vecchio and Francesca had arrived.
There were the general sounds of greetings and arrangements being made for the food, and then he caught his own name, and the indistinct murmur of Ray's answer. "--room, feeding Abbie," came the last half quite clearly, as the bedroom door swung open.
Ben looked up and froze. Francesca's eyes, perfectly round, stared back at him from the doorway. They stared at each other without blinking for about fifteen seconds, until the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen galvanized Francesca into action, and she slammed the door shut before her mother could arrive.
The noise startled Abbie, and she released Ben's nipple and began to cry. He couldn't interest her in continuing to suck, so he quickly buttoned his shirt with one hand and began the project of standing up. Ray had waited for him to arrange himself in the chair before handing him the baby, and he found that getting up with her in his arms was even more of a challenge. He managed it in the end, however, and with a bit of careful maneuvering settled her in the center of the bed without bending at the waist. Habit made him tuck in his shirt, but when he went to the mirror to straighten his hair, he found that it emphasized his already noticeable bust. He reluctantly untucked. Francesca had already seen him in less than perfect attire, and with Abbie in his arms, Sofia probably wouldn't notice. Another straight-backed gymnastic feat retrieved Abbie from the bed, and he took a deep breath and went to face the kitchen.
Sofia was immediately upon them, kissing him on the cheek and appropriating both the burping cloth and the baby as she admonished him to sit down and stop trying to do so much so soon after surgery. He smiled politely and obeyed, deciding not to explain that standing didn't hurt; it was only the act of getting that way, or of sitting down, that was the problem.
Ray hurried over and gave him an arm to lean on, whispering as he did so, "How's it going?"
"Very well, actually," he whispered back. "It's increased quite noticeably from the last time." Ray smiled and stood up, and Ben glanced over at his sister-in-law, who was busily engaged in not looking at him. As he watched, she snuck a peek out of the corners of her eyes, then flushed and looked away guiltily. He reddened slightly and turned away himself, and got involved in a conversation with Sofia.
Abbie was passed from hand to hand as the three Vecchios elbowed one another around the kitchen, bickering amiably, and Ben sat at the table with the sedentary task of grating cheese. Finally there came a lull as everything was simmering nicely and there was nothing much to do but wait and talk. Ray was holding the baby, and he and his mother were happily admiring her. Francesca slipped away from them and walked over to Ben, who was watching them with a faraway half-smile.
"Um, Benton, can we, uh, you know, talk somewhere?" she asked, with a glance at her mother.
He followed her eyes. "Of course," he answered politely, dreading the conversation ahead.
She offered him a hand and he took it, pulling himself upright. "The twins were a C-section," she said. "I remember how that feels."
Ray looked up as they left the room, and Ben gave him a smile that was more reassuring than he felt. After a moment's contemplation of the hard straight-backed chairs in the dining room office, he led her into the bedroom, wishing for the first time that they had rented an apartment with a living room. Since they'd kept mostly to themselves here, they'd never needed one, and this small apartment with its single large bedroom had been cheaper. He allowed himself to be helped into the armchair with a small sigh.
Francesca paced distractedly in front of him. "Look, I... I'm sorry I walked in on you."
"That's quite all right."
"So, um, were you, uh..." He looked at her questioningly. "When I walked in, it looked like you were..."
"Oh. Ah." He cleared his throat. "Yes."
"Oh." She nodded. "Um, wow. I didn't know that was even possible. I mean, I know with this whole thing, I didn't think any of it was possible and nothing should be... wow."
"Yes."
"So, uh, is this like some weird chemical thing, or what? I mean, with the drugs and all that."
Ben took refuge in science. "It's partially a side effect of the hormones I was taking during the pregnancy. I'm still taking them, actually, although the dosage is being slowly reduced. The original development was induced by the estrogen and progesterone several months ago. The actual, er, lactation, however, is a natural reaction, not drug induced."
She pursed her lips slightly and nodded. "Oh. Look, um, I just wanted to apologise for walking in on you and all."
"No apology necessary."
"Thanks." She turned her head toward the bedroom door as though searching for a way out. Then she seemed to change her mind and turned back to him. "Um, I noticed you were doing it in the chair. Does that work for you? I mean, not to get too personal, but I know I could never stand to do it in a regular chair."
"Now that you mention it, it does hurt my back a little," he admitted.
She rolled her eyes. "A little? God, my back was killing me the time we went to stay with Matthew's parents for a couple of days and all they had were these horrible stiff, formal chairs it was impossible to lean back in. My arms, too. If I'd known you were going to need it, I would've passed on the family rocking chair. Ma's had it as long as I can remember, and she gave it to Maria when Tino was born, then Maria gave it to me when I was pregnant with Rosie. When we go set up your apartment, I'll make sure to bring it over."
Ben was touched. "Thank you kindly, but I don't think... we were planning to wean her before we returned to Chicago."
"Oh. I guess you would... I mean, you couldn't really be a Mountie if you had to stop and pump every couple of... hours." She glanced at his chest as she realized what she'd said, and to whom, then quickly looked away, blushing furiously.
Ben got a sudden mental image of himself in full dress reds, buttons straining across the chest, excusing himself from a formal diplomatic function. He felt his face burning, then began, unexpectedly, to laugh. Francesca slowly joined in, and the last bit of tension between them dissolved. In the middle of their laughter, a summons came from the other room, and they rejoined the family for dinner.
~~~May 2, 2004~~~
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That."
Ben listened carefully in the darkness. "She moved her foot."
"Oh."
There was silence for a few minutes, then Ben's eyes flew open. "Ray?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't hear anything."
"She's probably asleep, Benny. Like we should be."
"Probably... ah, there, she moved her left hand."
"Mm. Good."
They both feigned sleep for another five or six minutes.
"Benny?"
"Hmm?"
"D'you think she's kicked off her blanket?"
"No."
"How do you know? Can you hear the blanket?"
"No, but..."
"I'm gonna go check."
"Ray, we've already checked on her four times since you fed her an hour ago."
"Come on, Benny, you know how fast babies get cold." Ray was already throwing back the covers, so further objections were pointless.
Ben lay back and squeezed his burning eyes shut. Three-thirteen in the morning and neither of them had slept at all. He yawned, and heard Ray lift Abbie out of her crib. "Ray?"
"Yeah, Benny?"
"Just bring her back to bed with you. She can sleep with us."
"Is that safe? One of us might roll over on her."
"That's highly unlikely. The body automatically adjusts to the presence of another living being in one's bed, which is why we don't accidentally roll over on each other. And actually, many doctors and scientists believe that it is safer for an infant to sleep with its parents. It lowers the risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or what used to be called, rather aptly, 'crib death.'"
Ray had nearly stopped breathing himself at the word "death," and was back in the bed, with Abbie, before Ben finished his sentence. Ben smiled and scooted over to make room in the center of the bed.
"Here. Put her on top of the sheet, like that." He waited while Ray tucked the blanket around her, then leaned over and kissed the top of her head, then Ray. Ray's hand joined his where it lay protectively over the small mound of blankets between them, and they settled in to sleep.
An angry scream rent the early morning silence, and two heads shot up off their respective pillows. Ben tried to sit up quickly, but collapsed back onto the bed when his injured abdominal muscles protested the movement. By the time he managed to roll onto one elbow and push himself upright, Ray had Abbie cradled against his shoulder and was attempting to soothe her. The glowing red numbers on the clock beyond Ray's dark form read three forty-two.
Ben yawned and laid a hand on his daughter's back, adding his own murmurs to the attempts to quiet her. "What's the matter?"
"Needs changing," Ray answered. "I'll take care of it. Can you hold her for a minute?"
"Sure." Ben sat up completely and held out his arms, wrinkling his nose involuntarily as she was handed over.
Ray threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed. He switched on the lamp over the changing table, blinking in the sudden brightness, and pulled out a fresh diaper, then returned to the bed. "Ok, cara," he whispered as he lifted her, still wailing inconsolably, from Ben's arms. "C'mere. Shh, it's okay." He talked to her all the way to the table and the cries began to subside, only to begin again with renewed vigor when he laid her down. He sighed and pulled open the diaper tape. "Pugh! God, Benny, are you sure you still want to switch to cloth diapers when we go back home? It's bad enough to have to change this without having to save it."
"It's better for her, Ray. And for the environment."
"Ugh. It's still disgusting." He cleaned and powdered the tiny bottom efficiently from long practice, and taped a new disposable diaper in place. He lifted the crying baby to his cheek. "Shh. There you go, all clean. Shh." He walked with her, bouncing slightly. "Go to sleep, so your daddy and I can." He gave Ben a quick tired smile, which was returned, then switched off the lamp. He heard the rustling noise of Ben carefully settling himself back into the bed, and renewed his efforts as he walked in the darkness and tried not to bump into anything. "Shhh... shhh... you know, babe, you're giving me a whole new appreciation of how great it was being an uncle."
Abbie produced a particularly powerful scream at this, and he adjusted his grip and kissed the top of her head. "Shh. Yeah, I know, I wouldn't trade you for anything, even sleep. But do ya think we could work out some kind of compromise?"
"Perhaps if you sang to her," Ben suggested.
Ray turned toward the dark mass that was his partner. "I don't sing."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Oh, come on, Ray, I'm sure I've heard you sing. In the shower."
"That doesn't count. Under American rules, singing in the shower isn't singing."
"It isn't?"
"No." He turned his attention back to his daughter.
"Oh. Well, it was only a suggestion."
"I don't sing," Ray repeated. "Thanks," he added, as an afterthought. He sighed and yawned, continuing his walking and murmuring. Gradually the screams gave way to quieter, hiccuping sobs, then finally to silence. After a minute or two of simply enjoying the feeling of the small face pressed into his neck, he made his way carefully back to the bed. Settling her gently into her place between them, he crawled back between the now-cold sheets and was asleep before they lost their chill.
*****
Ray worked frantically at the device in his hands, turning it over and over, searching for the button that he knew was there. It was a police siren, dammit, he'd been dealing with them for years, he'd thought he could turn them on and off in his sleep. He fiddled with it uselessly as the wailing went on and on.
Ben slid one eye open wearily and blinked when the room proved to be filled with grey early-morning light. Rolling over with difficulty, he noted that Ray was muttering to himself and twisting his pillow. He yawned, pushed himself upright, and lifted his screaming daughter to his shoulder. His nose informed him that her diaper was clean, but wet. He talked to her softly for a minute, then laid her back on the quilt as he worked his way off the bed.
Scooping her back into his arms and standing up with a grunt, he shuffled over to the changing table. The soggy diaper was removed and dropped into the bin, and he dried and powdered her with care, if not exactly skill. She quieted down a bit under the attention, and a quick glance told him that Ray had also stopped fidgeting and was now sleeping peacefully. With a wistful sigh, he turned back to fasten the other half of the fresh diaper, just in time to watch as Abbie, with a look of intense concentration, filled it. He groaned softly and started over.
Finally clean, dry, and quiet, she was unfortunately also wide awake. Giving up for the moment on the hope of further sleep, he picked her up and shuffled into the kitchen. The clock on the microwave read 7:10; she'd be getting hungry soon. The thought reminded him of his own stomach, and he started some water for tea. Searching for something to do while it heated, he wandered back over to the sink, where he used his free hand to splash some cool water over his face and dry himself with a dishtowel. In lieu of a shower, it was the best he could do.
The teakettle and the baby screamed at the same time. Quickly switching off the heat and moving the kettle to a cool burner, he devoted his attention to his daughter. Setting her carefully on the tabletop and steadying her with one hand, he lowered himself into a chair and removed the undershirt he'd been sleeping in. He offered her a nipple, and smiled when she took it eagerly. He could get used to this.
He was just switching her to the other side when Ray came in, yawning and scratching absentmindedly at a stubbled cheek. "Mornin,' Benny." He picked up the kettle, frowning in puzzlement when it proved to be warm. "D'ju start this?"
Ben nodded. "I didn't have time to finish, so I just took it off the burner."
"Mm." He turned the heat back on, then set their mugs on the counter and got out the instant coffee granules he kept for days when he needed caffeine faster than the machine could get it to him. "Chamomile, peppermint, Earl Grey, or Darjeeling?"
Ben mentally scanned the list of Things To Avoid While Breastfeeding. "Chamomile," he answered, and Ray dropped the proper teabag into the red mug. The kettle began to sputter, preparatory to beginning its whistle, and he poured boiling water into both cups. Setting Ben's within easy reach on the kitchen table, he sat down and cradled his own, enjoying the warmth.
"So, how long you been up?"
"A little over half an hour."
"You don't know it to the minute? You must be tired."
Ben responded with a weary smile as he reached for his discarded undershirt and draped it over his shoulder. He lifted Abbie, who seemed to have finished her breakfast, onto it and began to pat her back.
Ray gulped his mouthful of coffee and set down the mug. "Hey. Let me take care of that, you've been doing everything else while I was asleep."
"It's no problem, Ray."
"No, I know. But you fed her, and I'm guessing probably changed her, so let me burp her and then I'll see if I can get her to take a nap. You go shower and get dressed. Then maybe we can see about some breakfast."
Ben relinquished his charge and took a sip of his tea. Noticing that it had cooled to the perfect temperature for drinking, hot enough to almost, but not quite, burn his throat on the way down, he finished about three-quarters of the mug before he attempted to stand.
"You remember to take your pain meds this morning?" Ray asked, noticing his grimace.
Ben shook his head. "I'm fine."
"Take 'em anyway," he admonished the retreating back through the kitchen doorway.
Fifteen minutes later, Ben emerged from the bathroom pink and damp but unshaven, dressed in sweats and a fresh T-shirt. He found Ray standing in the bedroom, rocking Abbie. He quickly put a finger to his lips. "I think I've almost got her to sleep," he mouthed.
"I'll go make breakfast," Ben mouthed back, and continued through back into the kitchen. Investigation, as thorough as he could manage without undue bending, yielded one egg, three strips of bacon, a shrink-wrapped bowl of cold linguini from last night's dinner, the tail end of a loaf of bread, and a few assorted cans. "Breakfast," after much deliberation, turned out to be half of a scrambled-egg-and-bacon-on-toast sandwich for each of them and a bowl of canned peaches with two spoons.
Ray didn't object, though he did mention that he really ought to go shopping later that day. The meal was finished quickly and the dishes dumped in the sink. "So, Benny, what're your plans for the day?" he asked.
Ben gave him a half-smile. "Back to bed?"
"Last one asleep's a rotten egg," he answered, as he took his arm and headed for the bedroom.
~~~May 14, 2004~~~
"Come on, Benny, aren't you two ready yet?" Ray tapped on the bedroom door with one knuckle as he pushed it open. "I finished the breakfast dishes twenty minutes ago. The kitchen's clean. What's taking so long?"
A rather flushed and flustered Mountie looked up at him from the bed, where he was sitting crosslegged with Abbie, halfway dressed, in his lap. One arm was nearly threaded through its sleeve, and as Ray watched, it slithered its way back out. Ben looked about ready to cry. "This is the most *exasperating* task."
"Having a little trouble?"
Ben scrunched the sleeve as much as possible and tried to work it over the seemingly boneless arm. "It's like trying to put a dogsled harness on a live trout."
"That what they do at night in Canada when the cable goes out?" Ray sat beside him and watched carefully. The next time the tiny hand made an appearance, he poked a finger into the sleeve and fished it out, then held on gently but firmly as Ben pulled the sleeve all the way down.
"Thank you kindly. And no, I don't believe so, although one town where I was stationed did hold an annual salmon race. The salmon were, however, unharnessed."
"Hasn't anybody up there ever heard of poker?" Working together, they got the other arm through its sleeve, and Ben quickly closed the row of snaps up the front of the yellow one-piece suit.
"Of course, Ray. We read extensively." Handing Abbie to Ray, he scooted back and off the bed with a hint of his old agility.
Ray shook his head. "Canadian humor. It's hopeless." He and Abbie followed suit, and waited by the doorway as Ben put on his shoes. "We're going to the doctor today," he whispered to her. "You're a big girl, two whole weeks old. The doctor's going to give you some shots so you won't get sick. That's good, isn't it?" He looked up. "Hey, Benny, I'm gonna go put her in the car seat. Can you grab her bag and lock up, and I'll meet you out there?"
Ben finished tying the second shoelace and stood up. "Of course, Ray." He crossed the room to pick up the diaper bag, catching a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror en route. T-shirt and RCMP-issue sweatpants again, more than a little baggy. He was finding that the clothes he'd worn during the pregnancy were now far too large, stretched out of shape, but his old jeans and slacks were too tight for a body still swollen with baby fat and tender from surgery. He ran a hand through his hair, which hadn't been cut for almost two months and was now curling around his ears. His grandmother was probably turning in her grave. With a sigh, he picked up the bag and his keys and headed out to join his family.
*****
"Hi, I'm Dr. McKinnon. You must be Mr. Fraser," the doctor said, extending a hand to Ben. He shook, and she turned to Ray. "And you're Mr. Vecchio," she continued, smiling as Ray shifted the baby to free up a hand to shake, "And this must be Abigail. Dr. Young has told me all about you."
"Nice to meet you," said Ray.
"We've heard excellent things about you as well," Ben added.
"Well, I certainly hope I don't disappoint." She picked up the medical chart that she had placed on the examination table upon entering the room. "So, just to make sure I have all the right information, she was born on April 30, 9:21 in the morning, birthweight six pounds, eight ounces, correct?" She glanced at Ray, who turned to Ben, who nodded in confirmation. "Ok, test results... all look good, so let's get started here. Could you place her in here for me, please?" She indicated a large scale, and Ray complied. "Keep your hand above her, but try not to touch her or the scale until we get a weight, OK?"
All in all, the appointment went well. Dr. McKinnon told them that Abbie's weight and measurements were perfectly on schedule for her age, and she herself was remarkably quiet throughout the proceedings. Finally the time came for her vaccinations.
"Would you please unbutton her and hold her still so that I can reach her shoulder?" asked Dr. McKinnon, picking up a small syringe and a sealed vial from a tray in the corner of the room. She turned around to find two pairs of eyes fixated on the needle in her hand, unmoving. Her face softened in sympathy. "I promise it won't hurt her. Just a little prick, and it'll be over before she knows it."
It was Ben who finally managed to undo her snaps and present a tiny bare shoulder for the injection. He flinched as the needle broke her skin, and turned pale as she screeched in protest and began to cry, but his hands held steady until it was removed and the doctor rubbed the spot briskly with a cotton swab. She covered the near-invisible puncture with a brightly colored band-aid and gently pulled up the soft yellow sleeve to cover it. "You can open your eyes now, Mr. Vecchio."
Ray did so, cautiously, and immediately clutched the still-wailing Abbie to his chest. The color returned to Ben's face in a rush, and he laid one hand on Ray's shoulder and the other on Abbie's back. Dr. McKinnon watched them out of the corner of her eye as she disposed of the syringe, intrigued by the difference in their interactions with the baby and with each other. Ray held her close, trying to give and seek comfort through full-body contact, leaning into Ben's touch. Ben, in contrast, maintained a slight distance, touching them with evident love but also with a certain reserve. She wondered what his history might have been.
She gave them a minute to recover before she spoke again, knowing that vaccinations were usually more traumatic for parents than for the babies themselves. The sooner they calmed down, the sooner the child would relax and stop crying. Babies responded to the prevailing mood of the people around them. Deciding it was time for a distraction, she cleared her throat.
"Ok, that's about it for this visit. Keep the bandage on it for the rest of the day, and make sure it doesn't get wet. The vaccine may make her a little cranky for the next day or two, and she might develop a low-grade fever. If she does, keep her cool and give her plenty of fluids. If it gets above 100 degrees, or if you notice any kind of a rash or swelling around the injection site, bring her back in and we'll keep an eye on her. Other than that, I guess the next time I'll see you will be right before you leave. Where's home for you?"
"Chicago," Ben answered. "We'll be leaving at the beginning of June."
"Well, I guess I'll see you then. Unless you have any questions, we're done for today." She turned from one to the other, but both men seemed intent on comforting their daughter and getting out of the examination room as quickly as possible. With another round of brief handshakes, they were gone.
*****
The three of them left Dr. McKinnon's office and followed the winding hallways back to the little waiting room. Ray glanced at his wrist, only to find that he had forgotten to put his watch on that morning. He located a clock above the receptionists' desk.
"Ok, it's about a quarter to twelve, your appointment's for twelve thirty. You wanna just head over there and wait? Maybe grab a coffee on the way?"
Ben glanced at their daughter, still whimpering unhappily against Ray's neck. "Yes, I think... no coffee for me, thank you."
"Ok. Come on, I think it's this way." He led the way out the door and into another pale blue and white hallway, then turned left.
Ben stood still outside the door. "Ray... the clinic is this way."
"That's the way we came in."
"I know. The entrance to the obstetrics wing is just before the main door to pediatrics."
"How do you know? We've never been here before."
"We passed the directory on the way in."
Ray gave in, knowing that after a single glance at the hospital directory, Ben could probably give him precise directions to the geriatric proctologist's office. He shifted Abbie, shrugged the diaper bag back onto his shoulder, and followed.
Ben was right, of course. A few turns brought them to the familiar waiting room, and down the hall he could see the clinic's private entrance, opening onto the shady parking lot. A blue and white Ford pickup was occupying the Riv's accustomed spot under the big maple tree.
Ben went to the receptionist's desk to sign in, and with a smile to the woman behind the desk, Ray headed for a seat by the window. He had just managed to set everything down and get himself and Abbie settled when Ben joined them, taking the next seat without comment.
"Looks like we're going to be here awhile," he said.
"Hm," Ben answered, staring blankly at the floor for a moment before suddenly reaching for a magazine.
Ray watched him curiously out of the corner of his eye. Finally he spoke up. "Something bothering you, Benny?"
"Hm? No, no... why do you ask?"
"You've been staring at that Lysol ad for the past five minutes. I know you hate the stuff, but that's a bit obsessive."
"Excessive use of antibacterial agents leads to increased incidence of disease, Ray."
"So you've told me. What's really bugging you?"
"Nothing." He gazed quietly at Abbie, then looked back at his magazine. After a second's thought, he turned the page.
"Benny?"
Ben inhaled sharply, lifting his head without turning toward him.
"You want to hold her?"
"I... please." He reached out almost timidly as Ray handed her over, then pressed her to his chest, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as though he'd just been rescued from drowning.
Ray stared. "Jeez, Benny, all you had to do was ask. She's your daughter too. Are you sure you're OK?"
Ben nodded, eyes still closed. With a final sigh, he opened them, settling Abbie more comfortably into the crook of his arm. She yawned and blinked sleepily at him, having been awakened by the almost fierce hug. He smiled and touched a hand with his finger, letting her grab hold of the tip. "I am now."
"I had no idea. I just didn't want you getting tired carrying everything," Ray muttered, almost to himself.
An expression that they were beginning to recognise crossed Abbie's face, and a quick check confirmed that she needed changing. Ben lifted her back to his shoulder and stood up. "I'll do it, Ray."
"At least let me carry the bag."
Ben turned in silent assent, and they headed for the restroom. After the last ten months, there was no need to ask for directions. The diaper was changed without incident, and Ben relinquished his charge briefly in order to use the facilities himself. Just as they left the restroom to return to the waiting room, the door that led to the clinic's offices and laboratory swung open. They were almost bowled over by a young man who was walking backward, talking excitedly to another man who followed at a slightly more sedate pace, accompanied by Dr. Young.
"Excuse me," he said automatically, barely glancing at them. "Jim, man, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. Come on, you've gotta... thanks, Doc," he broke off, turning to shake her hand as they reached the waiting room. His quiet partner thanked her also, looking slightly apprehensive, and the pair left, the shorter man still chattering as the door closed behind them. The doctor watched them go, then turned a tired but welcoming smile on Ben and Ray.
"Your next victims?" Ray asked.
"Candidates," she answered. "The shorter one is eager to do it, but after the problems we had with your oxygen, Ben, I'm hesitant to try it. The tall one has the body for it, but he's not sure he's ready to carry a child. I have two more couples coming in this afternoon for interviews. What time is your appointment supposed to be?"
"Twelve thirty," Ben answered. "I'm sorry, we're a bit early..."
"Oh, don't worry about it. Go on back, you know where the gowns are. I'll be right with you."
A few minutes later, Ben was smocked in blue and back on the familiar table, with the doctor's hands pressing gently against the scar from his Caesarian.
"Ok, it looks like these stitches are ready to come out," she said, reaching for the tray of surgical equipment and setting to work. "So, how have things been? Adjusting to parenthood?"
"Well, we've been peed on, puked on, developed a whole new concept of what is and isn't edible, and haven't had a decent night's sleep in two weeks," Ray answered. "It's great."
"How's the breastfeeding going?"
"Fairly well, actually," said Ben. "It took a few days for the supply to become established, but it's now quite... I believe I'm getting used to it."
"Are you about ready to start weaning her?" Ben jumped slightly under her hands, and she paused before removing the next stitch. "It is something you're going to have to think about. You'll need a few weeks if you want to stop lactation before you get back to Chicago."
"Oh." Ben looked a bit shellshocked. He glanced at Ray, who shrugged. "I suppose... how do I go about it?"
"It will probably be easiest if you do it gradually. To stop breastfeeding suddenly can be painful, both physically and emotionally. Speaking of which, have you noticed any symptoms of postpartum depression?"
"Such as?"
The doctor returned to her work as she answered. "Unusual emotional sensitivity, feelings of loss, emptiness, low self-worth, hopelessness. It can get pretty badsome women with severe postpartum even contemplate killing themselves or the baby."
She paused in the middle of cutting a stitch as the body beneath her fingers recoiled in horror. "No, of course not!"
She looked up. "It is my job to ask, Ben. And though I'm citing an extreme case, you are in a fairly unique position. Your body has gone through some incredible changes over the course of this past year, and I wouldn't be surprised if they had an effect on your emotional and psychological state as well. I'm not implying anything about you personally."
"No, no, I... I realize that. Ah, no, I don't believe I have any of those symptoms."
"All right," she said, finally removing the stitch. "Now, as for the breastfeeding, I suggest you begin simply by reducing the amount of time she spends at the breast. Switch her to a bottle before she finishes, so that there's some left behind. That will send your body the message that it needs to slow down production, and if you keep at it it will eventually slow to a stop. I wouldn't be letting her suck at all by at least a week before you plan to leave. Or Ray, either," she added, casting him a mischievious grin.
Ray flushed darkly and protested. "I do not."
The last stitch came out, and she reached for an iodine swab. "I have it on good authority that all husbands try it at least once. I have it on equally good authority that no husband ever admits to it. So even though you don't do it, just make sure you don't do it when Ben is trying to stop lactating. His oxytocin levels don't know the difference between you and the baby."
Ray concentrated very hard on straightening a fold in Abbie's blanket. "Understood."
~~~May 18, 2004~~~
"Ok." Ray sighed and hitched his daughter back up from lying in his lap to resting semiupright between his arm and chest. "We're paid up until the end of the month in this apartment, and Frannie promised she'd go in next weekend as soon as the Hudsons move out and make sure we've got beds and stuff in our old place. So basically, we can leave anytime we get clearance from the hospital, right? Anything I'm forgetting?"
Ben studied the calendar that lay open on the table before him. "I don't believe so. Except," he glanced around the room, "How are we going to transport everything?"
Ray followed his example and looked around. "We don't have all that much. Most of the big stuff came with the apartment. We've just got clothes, some kitchen stuff, the computer and the TV. It all fit on the way down."
"Yes, but this time we won't be able to use the backseat for storage."
"So we'll rent a trailer. Or we can pack up and ship everything we don't need on the drive up."
"Speaking of which, we will need to leave extra time for the trip."
"Yeah, of course. I mean, you and I could do it in a long day, but with her it'll probably take two."
"Or three. It's 13.5 hours of driving, with good traffic and without a trailer, which will increase wind resistance and add time. We will have to stop on average once every 1.5 hours to feed and change her. At 20 minutes per stop, the trip will take a minimum of...16.5 hours, probably considerably more. We will also have to stop for meals ourselves, and for fuel; taking into account the gas mileage of the Riviera--"
"Hey! Fine, three days, maybe four. So we'll just make sure to pack extra diapers, and it takes as long as it takes."
"Agreed. But this does bring up something I've been meaning to discuss with you, Ray. Since you will now be working primarily at home, it will be impractical for you to continue to drive me to and from work every day."
He paused, and Ray looked at him, having an idea of what was coming next. He hid a smile. "What are you getting at, Benny?"
"I think perhaps it's time I bought a car," he said gravely.
"Hm. You know, that's a serious decision to make. I've only been driving you around for ten years."
"Of course, I realize it's fast, but I really think I'm ready."
"Well, if you're sure." Ray gave up and grinned, scooping up Abbie who was sliding downward again. "We'll go talk to Al as soon as we get settled back home."
The next two weeks passed rather quickly. Clothing was sorted into things to take with them, things to mail, and Ben's small collection of maternity clothes to donate to Birthright. On a sunny Saturday morning, their last in Atlanta, they loaded the garments into a paper sack and took them down to the collection center. Ben was dressed in a pair of old jeans, dwindling breasts supported by a tight undershirt and camouflaged by a loose cotton work shirt. On one miraculously quiet afternoon, he'd managed to cut his hair, and the reflection that met him in the center's front window was almost the Mountie who had left Chicago a year before. He handed the sack of clothing to the woman behind the counter, who thanked him hurriedly from behind a stack of forms. He felt a twinge of near-regret as the bag disappeared into a back room, then squared his shoulders and turned to walk out. There were a handful of girls in the waiting room, mostly young, mostly scared, mostly alone. None of them met his eyes.
His mood lightened suddenly as he approached the Riviera. Ray's behind was framed perfectly in the center of the windshield, the rest of him wedged firmly between the two front seats. The behind waved slightly, and as he approached the car he could see that Ray had Abbie's stuffed squirrel in one hand and was evidently using it to tell her a story. He watched for a moment before opening the passenger door.
Ray jumped at the sudden interruption, hitting his head on the Riv's dome light. "Jeez, Benny, give a guy some warning next time, would ya?" Nestling the squirrel gently into the safety seat beside Abbie, he wormed his way back behind the wheel.
Ben climbed in beside him and shut the door. "Sorry, Ray. Good story?" he added casually.
Ray glared at twinkling blue eyes, then looked away with a nonchalant air. "The best." He turned back to Ben, and they both cracked up.
Ray started the engine, and they drove a few blocks to the woods where Ben had taken him the previous fall. The trees that had been leafless then were now lush and green. The arching branches met overhead, blocking out all sight and sound of the outside world and creating a semitropical oasis in the midst of the city. They took Abbie from her carrier and placed her in a sling on Ben's back, then headed off into the trees.
The temperature dropped several degrees as they stepped into the shade, and the warm, moist air vibrated with the song of insects and the occasional bird. A few late spring wildflowers-trilliums, Ben noted-bloomed among the underbrush.
Between the two of them, they kept up a running commentary for Abbie's benefit, pointing out the various things they passed along the way. Each insect and lacy skeleton leaf, a shaft of sunlight breaking through their green roof, the heady fragrance of honeysuckle and privet blossoms, all became magical as they experienced them for the first time through their daughter's senses. She herself slept through most of the walk, waking occasionally to look around her with eyes that were just beginning to focus. Finally she awakened hungry and began to cry, and they turned back, smiling as they approached the edge of the woods where two trees, an oak and a beech, grew from a single trunk. As Ben had learned from the nursing home staff during his volunteer days, it had been a landmark for meandering couples for decades. Earth had collected in the crevice between the two, and in it a single, tiny white flower had grown and bloomed. They gave it a last admiring glance, then went home to feed the baby.
~~~May 31, 2004~~~
"Pull over, Ray."
"Again?"
"It's time for her feeding."
"Can't you do it while she's in the carseat?"
"Ray..."
"All right, all right. There's a town coming up in about 10 miles. We might as well stop and get lunch ourselves while we're at it."
"Ok." Ben ran a finger down one rounded cheek, and she leaned into his touch. He looked up and smiled at Ray's concerned eyes in the rearview mirror. The grumbling was all a show, as the mirror itself proved. After ten years of storing it in the glove compartment, Ray had actually glued it back into place where it belonged.
By the time they reached the next exit, the slight whimper that had warned Ben of the approach of lunchtime had grown to a full-blown wail. Ray located a small diner and pulled into the parking lot, and Abbie was out of the car seat and in comforting arms almost-- but not quite-before the engine had stopped.
The interior of the diner proved to be shabby but clean, and they found a corner booth away from the other customers. A warm bottle was extracted from a thermos in the diaper bag and Ray settled down to feeding Abbie while Ben read the menu and ordered lunch.
She had finished by the time the food arrived, and there was relative quiet as they enjoyed what they hoped would be their last meal to come with a complimentary side dish of boiled okra. Ben finished his first, and volunteered to take Abbie to the restroom and change her, leaving Ray to finish his potato and poke disgustedly at the slimy greenish heap beside it.
He reemerged from the men's room after a brief glance around, and stopped a waitress on her way to the kitchen. "Excuse me. There doesn't seem to be a changing table in the restroom. I was wondering if you could tell me--"
"There's one in the ladies' room," she interrupted, and began to move past him. "Can't your wife take care of it?"
He blinked, at a bit of a loss. "Oh, I'm afraid I don't... I don't have a wife."
She stopped and looked down at the baby in his arms, and then suddenly her puzzled expression melted into one of pity and sympathy. "I'm so sorry. Look, I'll check and see if anyone's in there, and then you can go use that one. I'm really sorry about your wife."
Suddenly realising what she must be thinking, he began to protest, then shrugged. Let her think whatever she needed to. She pronounced the ladies' room all clear and held the door for him, and he thanked her with a touch of embarrassment and walked inside. She was still there when he returned with the freshly changed Abbie, standing guard over the restroom door. Two women were waiting in the hall, both of whom gave him sad smiles as they walked past him into the room. One patted his arm and offered her best wishes for himself and the little one. Evidently the waitress had shared her theory. She herself looked down at Abbie, then up at Ben with eyes that seemed ready to fill with tears, and promised to speak to the manager about getting a changing table installed in the men's bathroom. He nodded, thanked her again, and made his escape.
"She actually thought your wife died in childbirth?" Ray asked, as they pulled back onto the interstate.
"Apparently," Ben anwered from the backseat. "I have no idea how she came to that conclusion, but I decided it was probably safer if I did not explain the truth."
"Yeah, probably. We're gonna run into enough trouble over the next 18 years without going looking for it. But hey, at least one good thing'll come out of it, if she does get that table put in."
"Mm hmm," Ben agreed absently, watching Abbie's long eyelashes flutter closed.
"You ever think five years ago that you'd care where they put a changing table?"
Ben smiled slightly and shook his head, still absorbed. Ray, watching in the mirror, grinned and turned his attention back to his driving.
They stopped for the night at a Motel 6 just north of the Tennessee-Kentucky border, grabbed a quick meal, and fell into bed, exhausted. Abbie woke them at 11:30 pm for her late-night feeding, and they took the opportunity to change into pajamas and crawl under the blankets.
Naturally, having slept all day in the car, she was in no mood to sleep peacefully through the night. They were awakened time after time, and each bout of crying required fifteen or twenty minutes of walking, with singing on Ben's part and murmured endearments on Ray's, to calm. After the third time, they began trading off, one taking Abbie outdoors to walk in the warm, starry summer night while the other attempted to go back to sleep.
All too soon, the eastern sky turned grey, then gold, illuminating the face of a child once more peacefully asleep. With a silent prayer of immense gratitude for the heavy motel drapes, Ray carried her back inside.
He woke about four hours later to the sound of silence. Opening one eye, he noticed that the other side of the bed was empty, and the sheets were cold. He sat up. "Benny?" No answer. He reached to turn on the lamp beside the bed, and found a note lying on the table. He switched on the light and read:
'Ray-Abigail and I have gone to the restaurant across the road. Join us when you wake up. Sleep well. Ben.'
Ray smiled and stretched, then got up and dressed. A few minutes later, he walked into the restaurant and located his family in a sunlit booth against one wall. Ben was about halfway through a thick book, with Abbie curled against his shoulder, and the table held a cup of tea, a small plate with a few crumbs of pastry, and an empty bottle. Ray slid into the booth. "Hey, Benny."
Ben set down the book. "Good morning, Ray. Sleep well?"
"Yeah, great, thanks. How long you been here?"
Ben glanced at his watch. "About two hours. I thought that, since you had to drive, it might be best if we let you sleep."
"What about you?"
"I can sleep in the car, if necessary."
"You already eat breakfast?" he gestured toward the plate.
Ben nodded. "We both have." A few minutes later, a solicitous waitress came over to check Ben's cup. She seemed surprised by Ray's presence, but fetched him a menu anyway and didn't ask questions. An hour later, they were back on the road.
~~~June 2, 2004~~~
It took them two more days to reach Chicago. They spent the next night in northern Indiana, a few hours outside the city limits, and arrived at the Vecchio house in mid-afternoon. A seemingly endless stream of relatives poured out to meet them, and Abbie was passed from hand to hand as her two fathers stretched backs cramped by three days in the car. After a brief visit and a lunch that Mrs. Vecchio had been keeping warm for them since their phone call an hour before, the entire family piled into three cars and set off for Ray's and Ben's old apartment.
As promised, the apartment was clean, the bed made and a crib installed-with yellow blankets, Ben noted gratefully, not pink-and the refrigerator stocked with a few essentials. Mrs. Vecchio offered to watch Abbie as the rest of the family unloaded the Riv and its trailer, and the walls were lined with boxes and bags within minutes. Another half-hour saw the trailer hitched to the back of Matthew's SUV to be returned to the nearest drop-off counter. Then, with a final kiss to her granddaughter and instructions for reheating the casserole she'd left in the fridge, Mrs. Vecchio shooed the family out and left Ben and Ray alone together with their daughter.
The apartment seemed oddly quiet after the door had closed. It was larger than the one they had occupied for the past year, and though comfortably furnished it had not been decorated. The blank white walls looked as though they might echo.
They unpacked slowly, putting away clothing and dishes and reconnecting the telephone and TV. The things they hadn't taken with them were packed in boxes and stacked in the spare bedroom; Francesca and whomever she'd gotten to help her must have brought them down from the Vecchio attic when they'd fixed the place up. Those would take a bit longer. For now, it was good to be home.
*****
Almost everything was in place by the following weekend, and on Friday Maria called to invite them over for dinner Saturday night. They accepted, a bit suspiciously, and headed out the door to Al's garage, where they had been going when the phone rang.
At 7 o'clock the following evening, they climbed into Ben's new car to go to the house. He had acquired a three-year-old brown Ford sedan that had an excellent crash rating, good gas mileage, and in Ray's opinion, no style whatsoever. But it did have four doors, which made putting Abbie's car seat in the back much easier.
Their suspicions proved well-founded when they were met at the door by a shout of "Surprise!" Maria's and Francesca's families were there, along with a dozen or so more distant relatives, and a handful of assorted friends. Lieutenant Welsh and Detective Huey were in one corner with Elaine, apparently back from her new precinct across town and wearing a shiny new Detective's badge. A blond head appeared among the sea of dark-haired Italian children, and after a second's thought Ben placed her as Laura Thatcher, and located Meg by the couch, standing next to a woman whose face he couldn't quite see.
They took Abbie and began making the rounds of the room, showing her off and catching up on the last year's worth of gossip. They congratulated Elaine on her promotion, and Huey on his announcement that his wife, who hadn't been able to make it to the party, was expecting their second child. Lieutenant Welsh had little to say about himself, but offered his congratulations, said he was glad they were back, and assured Ray that he would have a job with the Precinct for as long as he needed one.
The relatives were full of news about who had been married or buried or divorced or dropped out of school since they had last been home, and they smiled and commiserated as expected. Finally they made it to the couch, where-
"Maggie!" Ben quickly put Abbie in Ray's arms and swept his sister up in a warm embrace.
"Hello, Ben," she smiled into his shoulder.
"How long are you going to be here?" he asked, finally letting her go.
"Just until Monday. I had business in Ottawa anyway, and when your sister-in-law called I changed my flight home. Why didn't you tell me, Ben?"
"I meant to, as soon as we got home." In truth, he'd been putting it off, unable to decide whether to tell her the truth about the pregnancy or tell her it had been an adoption. Whichever, nothing could be explained here. "Where are you staying?"
"I have a hotel room near the Consulate. I'll call you tomorrow, OK? We've got a lot to catch up on."
"Sure. Come over to the apartment, we'll have lunch." He looked to Ray for confirmation.
"Yeah, sure. You can come get to know your niece."
Meg Thatcher watched them quietly from a few feet away. She had been doing research for the past five months, and still had no satisfactory answer as to what was wrong with Ben. No common disease seemed to fit the observed criteria-localized weight gain, enforced sedentary lifestyle and mood swings, requiring regular medical treatment for several months and follow-up visits annually for years following. She'd finally settled on some kind of glandular disorder, but kept changing her mind about which one. Now, seeing him for the first time since that day at the Consulate, she decided she had been right. His features had softened almost imperceptibly, and while his weight was barely more than it had been when they'd first met, his entire figure seemed somehow more rounded. Obviously a hormone imbalance. She hoped for his sake that it was, as he had predicted, under control.
Finally he turned to her. "Inspector." He offered a hand, and they shook.
"Good to see you again, Fraser. I trust your health is improved?" she asked, hoping for further clues.
Ben just smiled. "Very much so, sir. I appreciate your concern."
She sighed inwardly and gave up. General hormone imbalance it would have to remain. "The Consulate is running in good order and will be ready for you to take the helm on the 14th, as agreed."
"And yourself, sir?"
"Back to Ottawa for me and Laura. I've decided to stop running from my problems."
"Best of luck to you, sir."
"About time," Ray added under his breath.
"I heard that, Detective." She glared at him, then smiled slightly. "But you're right. Congratulations, both of you." She shook Ray's hand around Abbie, and began to shake Ben's again, then hugged him briefly. "This is what I missed with Laura," she said, looking at Abbie. "Enjoy it."
They answered in unison. "We will."
~~~June 6, 2004~~~
"And you actually..." Maggie gestured incredulously at Ben's midriff with a celery stick.
Ben nodded, almost awestruck himself by the thought. "The whole nine months."
"I don't believe it. I mean, how?"
"It's a new technique," Ray answered. "Benny and I got to be test subjects."
"And both of you," the celery trembled as it waved from one to the other, "are her biological parents?" Ben nodded, and she took a bite of the celery and chewed thoughtfully. "Wow. Where'd the egg come from?"
"Anonymous donation. Fertility clinics sometimes have some left over, and couples can choose whether to have them destroyed or donate them for the clinic to use as they see fit. Abbie came from one of those."
"So you got a donated egg, replaced the genetic material with your own, implanted it somewhere in your body, and carried it to term? One of us must be hallucinating."
"Would you like to see the scar?"
She jumped. "Um, thanks, but I think I'll take your word on it. A C-section scar on my brother..."
"Yeah, it's kind of a lot to take in," Ray said sympathetically. "But hey, at least you know she's your real niece."
Maggie nodded, and the three of them continued their lunch in silence for a moment. Finally she turned to her brother. "I guess it's true what they say about you." Ben cocked an eyebrow inquiringly. "You're definitely one of a kind." Everyone smiled at that, and the tension that had been in the room since the announcement 'We have something to tell you' suddenly lessened. Laying down her napkin, she asked, "So, can I hold my niece?"
Abbie was not entirely pleased to be woken up, but she soon relaxed when she found herself in comforting arms. She yawned and stretched, reaching clumsily for a long tendril of hair that had come loose from Maggie's customary tight bun. Her aunt leaned closer and let it tickle her cheek. She shied away from the touch, but watched its movement with fascination as its owner glanced from her to her fathers.
"Cute. She looks like you, Ben. I didn't really get a good look at her last night, with all those other people around. Are they really all relatives?"
"Mostly," Ben smiled.
"I can't even keep track," said Ray. "I think Ma knows who they all are, but I doubt anybody else does. Somehow they just always show up whenever something's going on."
"Orphan to ant in a hill, eh?" She glanced at Ben, who smiled slightly. "You know, I never really wanted kids of my own. I figured it would interfere with my career. Looking at you guys, though, I wonder if I made the right decision."
"It's not too late to change your mind."
"Maybe." She looked down at Abbie, who was still watching her hair. She pulled out the band and shook it loose, adding to her interest. "Maybe I was just meant to be an aunt."
*****
The final week of Ben's sabbatical passed all too quickly, filled with a million tiny things that he noticed about his daughter. Her eyes were beginning to follow him around the room, and in certain lights, they were beginning to look more green than blue. He hoped that they would eventually be the beautiful hazel-green of Ray's own. When he held her, there was a twitch at one corner of her mouth that might be the beginnings of a smile. She was developing preferences among her various stuffed animals, and they had special games and routines for feedings and naptimes. He spent more and more time with her as the dreaded day approached, and carried her with him everywhere he went.
They had received a plastic baby carrier at their surprise baby shower, but it had been returned to the store unopened. Benand Ray on the few occasions when Ben let her go, which were limited mainly to when he slept or had to use the bathroompreferred to hold her in his arms alone. The carrier had been exchanged for another cloth sling that carried some of the weight and let him use his hands. He was developing a distinct list to starboard.
Monday arrived at last, and it was with a pang of regret this time that he picked up the red serge uniform. He dressed slowly, putting on his tight undershirt to bind his chest and buttoning his jodhpurs carefully over the scar below his navel. He put on the belt he had worn at New Year's, buckling it loosely to keep the pressure from becoming too uncomfortable. Hair brushed, boots laced and tied to perfection, he held Abbie until the last possible moment. Reluctantly, he forced himself to hand her over to Ray, and with a kiss to each, he made it out the door.
That day was the longest he had ever spent, and it was only by the strongest effort and determination that he managed to keep his mind on the papers that he was reviewing with Inspector Thatcher. Constables Baker and Wade welcomed him back with restrained Canadian enthusiasm, and seemed surprised that he had brought no photographs with him. He apologised distractedly and promised to bring some the following day, wondering with a pang what Abbie was doing at that moment. Probably sleeping, he decided, picturing her in her crib, one hand perhaps emerging from beneath the soft yellow blanket, cheeks rosy with sleep. Her eyes would be moving under finely-veined lids, caught up in dreams he couldn't imagine. He sighed and recalled himself to the present once again.
The hours he had spent confined to bed, awaiting Abbie's birth, seemed in retrospect to have flown by in comparison to the last few minutes before five o'clock. The bell in the clock tower rang at last, however, and he was out the door before the last reverberations had died away. The first traffic light on his route home was red, and he briefly considered abandoning the car and running back to the apartment on foot. The light changed just in time to save his sanity, and to his relief, the last two were green. He took the stairs three at a time, had his key ready by the first landing, and was down the hall at the door of #319 in about two steps.
He took a deep breath and composed his features into a dignified, fatherly smile before unlocking the door. "Ray?"
"Shh. In here." He traced the hushed answer back to the spare bedroom, now filled with Ray's files and office supplies. Ray was seated at his makeshift desk, going through folders. "Hey, how's the great breadwinner?"
"Where is she?"
Ray waved the folder toward the floor beside his chair. "Right here. You OK?"
Ben was kneeling on the floor before the words were out of his mouth. Abbie was tucked into her wooden cradle, which Ray had been rocking gently with one socked foot. He'd stopped when Ben came in, and the abrupt break in the motion woke her. Her blue-green eyes opened sleepily, and Ben smiled, scooped her up, and held her tight.
Ray watched. "You know, that could be considered addiction. You might want to think about a twelve-step program."
Ben closed his eyes and said nothing, enjoying the soft round cheek pressed against his own. Ray shook his head and went back to his filing, grateful that he didn't have to leave home to go to work himself.
Life had settled down to normal an hour later, and Ben was burping Abbie when there was a knock on the door. Ray answered, and Inspector Thatcher entered hesitantly, a sheet of paper in her hands.
"I'm sorry to bother you at home, Fraser, Detective, but I need your signature on this form and my plane leaves tonight. I hope I'm not intruding."
"No, not at all," Ben answered, then smiled deprecatingly. "Do you have a pen? I'm afraid the apartment is still a bit of a mess."
She took one out of her purse and held the transfer form as he signed with his free hand. "Thank you."
"Oh, it's no trouble. We wish you the best of luck in your new position."
She thanked them both and began to leave, then paused at the door. "So, is adopting an infant as much work as they say? I let them talk me out of it with Laura, and while I love her very much, I've always been afraid that I missed something, not seeing her at this stage."
Ray shrugged. "It is a lot of work. Dirty diapers, 2 am feedings, 3 am changes..."
"4 am crying fits, 5 am feedings," Ben added.
"Never enough sleep."
"Showering with the bathroom door open."
"Puke on the left shoulder of every shirt," Ray said, eyeing Ben.
"Could you get that, please?"
Ray grabbed a clean cloth diaper from the pile on a nearby chair and mopped up. Meg watched, then asked, "Is it worth it?"
Ben met Ray's eyes as he dropped the diaper into the pail, then looked down at the child in his arms. Greenish eyes met his, and she gave her almost-smile. He answered for both of them. "Absolutely."
~~~The End~~~
~~~Author's Notes~~~
*Reading material: The books Benny is reading are actual titles from my family's bookshelves.
*Active Ingredients: for the drugs stocked in the Consulate medicine cabinet, I tried to pick things that would reasonably
be found there. They are:
Acetominophen: Painkiller. In this case, it's Tylenol.
Aloe: Burn stuff. Benny makes his own directly from the plant.
Bacitracin: Antiseptic.
Capsaicin: Anti-arthritic. See "Burn, Baby, Burn" on the Hexwood archive for contraindications.
Cimetidine: Heartburn/ulcer medication. I imagine Meg would use quite a bit of it.
Dextromethorphan: Cough syrup.
Diphenhydramine hydrochloride: Antihistamine found in Benadryl tablets and creams.
Kaopectate: Antidiarrheal syrup.
Ketoprofin: Super painkiller. Meg takes it for her tension headaches.
Lidocaine: Anti-itch stuff. Gold Bond Foot Powder, for those beautiful leather Mountie boots.
Menthol: Ointment for lips chapped by life in the Windy City (or lengthy makeout sessions with the cops of said city).
Also a muscle rub, handy after a long day standing at attention.
Neosporin: Antibiotic salve.
Pectin: Throat lozenges. Another natural cure from OFM.
Polymyxin B Sulfate: Burn stuff, supplied by Constable Baker who doesn't trust Fraser's homemade concoctions.
Pseudoephedrine: Decongestant
Salicylic acid: Cold cream.
Saline: Eyedrops. Turnbull used to use them when he returned from sentry duty, after having stood without blinking for
two hours.
Sodium bismuthate: Stomach stuff. Pepto Bismol.
Zinc glutonate: Used to counteract the effects of chronic stress. Another of Meg's contributions.
*Dr Young's medical background: She started as an MD OB/GYN with a small practice affiliated with the university, and
pursued genetics research as a sideline until her first major breakthrough with same-sex fertilization, which she used as her
thesis for a doctorate in genetics. Since then she has focused mainly on her research, but continues to see patients
occasionally on an observer/consultant basis, thus keeping her medical license current and allowing her to oversee Benny's
pregnancy.
*Male lactation: This is actually true. My source is an article in the February 1995 issue of Discover magazine, which is
highly entertaining if you want to look it up; it has some lovely illustrations of male animals wearing brassieres. The high
points of the article were the ten lactating wild fruit bats, virgin females nursing other females' offspring by repeatedly
letting them suck at the dry breast, and men and farm animals giving milk after receiving supplemental hormones.
*Cheese Grits: For readers not native to the southern United States, "grits" are a staple item of the Georgian diet. It
("grits" appears to be both singular and plural) is a pastelike hot cereal made from corn, and comes in various flavors like
cheese grits, butter grits, and grits with bacon bits. Personally, I can't stand them, but I'm decidedly in the minority on that
opinion.
*Witch Hazel: The traditional, all-natural cure for gestational hemorrhoids.
*Lysol: This and other antibacterial products do contribute to disease. By preying on peoples' fear, the companies that
manufacture them promote extreme overuse of such products, which has two effects. First, it eliminates the weak bacteria
and breeds stronger, resistant strains that then cause major outbreaks that cannot be treated by ordinary means. This is
why people are suddenly dying of tuberculosis again, after we thought it had been nearly eradicated, and why there are
strains of malaria in Southeast Asia that have developed resistance to drugs so new they haven't even been approved for
use in the United States yet. Second, if people are not exposed to normal levels of bacteria, their immune systems are
weakened and they cannot fight the infections they do get. Hence the number of premature babies who develop severe
bacterial diseases when they are taken out of their sterile incubators. Don't disinfect everything in sight, please.
*Meg: Some people have said she shouldn't have given up so easily on finding out about Ben's "condition." I agree that
the Meg of the series would keep at it until she found out, but my Meg is a single mom and at the end of the story she's
trying to coordinate a move and her career. She'd wonder, but she just doesn't have the time or energy to spare worrying
about it once her period of self-imposed exile in Chicago is over.
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