Draw Me A Picture (69 page)

“Alight Mrs. Montgomery; wow... ten centimeters... any moment now,” the doctor said. She had a wonderful voice for a doctor, very soothing and calm; she sounded well trained and confidant. Nurses bustled about, helping Michelle into the stirrups and arranging the sheets for privacy; they did this all with amazing speed and efficiency. William saw one nurse wheeling over a bassinet, with a washing basin and neat, clean blankets already there to receive the baby.

Seeing the bassinet, William felt a little light-headed. He was about to see his son be born; their first baby. Taking several breaths, he cleared his head a little, rubbing Michelle’s back.

“You can do this, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Chin up there.” He felt Michelle’s nod slightly; he looked down at her and caught a slight upward glance. His ladylove’s face was drawn and pale, but her eyes still held a spark of life. A ghost of a smile hovered over her lips a moment.

“I’m ready,” she whispered, looking back at the doctor and nurses at her knee.

William and Michelle’s son came so quickly they barely had time to react; it seemed Michelle was just starting to push when the doctor spoke.

“It’s a boy! A strong lad, too,” she said, through her mask. A little cry bubbled out from somewhere beneath the sheet; it then grew immediately stronger, filling the air with that unique, newborn vocalization. Michelle burst into tears at the sound of it; William kept his arm around her, kissing her face fondly; he felt a tear spill onto his cheek but didn’t care. It was a precious moment, for all of them... not to be wasted on appearances. He heard the doctor’s voice again and saw that the nurses were looking at him.

“What?” he asked, dazedly.

“Do you want to cut the cord?” the doctor repeated, smiling behind her mask. New fathers were always amusing. At least this one hadn’t fainted, which was actually quite common. William nodded, letting a nurse take over his support of Michelle. He hadn’t expected quite so much blood soaking into the sheets but his eyes were quickly distracted. His son was in the doctor’s arms, making adorable, complaining noises; the little tiny limbs moved with life and strove against some unseen thing, the little face scrunched up with insult. William let out a laugh at the sight; taking the sterile instrument he followed the doctor’s instructions and cut the umbilical cord.

“Good, good... he’s fine and healthy,” the doctor said.

“He’s beautiful Michelle!” William called to his wife; he could hear she was still having contractions.

“We’ll get him to you in two shakes of a lamb's tail, Mrs. Montgomery,” the doctor said, handing the baby to a waiting nurse with a snowy receiving blanket.

Entranced with the sight of his boy, William stood by the bassinet, watching as the nurse began carefully washing the squalling little bundle.

“He’s so tiny,” he said aloud, an awed look on his face. The nurse chuckled looking at the digital scale.

“Actually he’s normal,” she said, smiling. “Seven pounds, nine ounces.”

“He’s beautiful,” William said, more to himself than anyone.

Remembering his wife he quickly looked over at Michelle; she appeared spent, her face extremely pale. He was at her side in a moment, sliding his arms around her shoulders.

“Michelle?” he said; his voice strained with concern.

“Hang on... she’s still bleeding,” the doctor said, her arms moving swiftly under the sheet. Little drops of Michelle’s blood could be seen on the doctor’s scrubs. “More pressure on her abdomen.”

One of the nurses pressed down steadily on Michelle’s mid-section; William knew from the classes that such action helped to stop the afterbirth bleeding. Michelle’s head leaned heavily on his arm; she was breathing but looked asleep. The remote possibility of her dying suddenly flew into William’s mind; that didn’t happen these days, did it? Nearing a state of panic, William kissed Michelle’s face in a slightly desperate way, his hand stroking her hair. Tears trickled down his face, unnoticed.

The baby gave slight cry from the bassinet but William didn’t hear it.

“Michelle... sweetheart,” he begged. “I’m right here. I’m right here.... wake up, love.”

“Finally...” the doctor said, sounding relieved. “The bleeding’s stopped. Bloody hell, she had me scared for a minute.” William shot her an angry look, and opened his mouth to comment, but stopped as Michelle’s eyes fluttered open. Relief flooded William and he gave his lovely wife a huge smile.

“Welcome back, love,” he said, softly. Michelle’s eyes filled with gladness at seeing him; reaching up, she touched William’s face tenderly.

“Is he alright?” she asked; her voice was barely a whisper. William nodded, leaning over and kissing Michelle’s forehead.

“He’s gorgeous, Michelle,” he said, smiling fondly at her. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much. You were out few moments there, but you’re back now. That’s all that matters.” He heard a tired laugh and Michelle closed her eyes again.

A nurse stood by them, smiling; she held a little, wrapped bundle in her arms.

“Would she like to hold him now?” the lady asked. Michelle opened her eyes and tried to sit up, straining to look at the baby. William sat behind her on the bed, propping her up against him; by instinct, Michelle’s
arms reach for her baby, ready to hold the new addition. Their son was all cleaned and wearing the most adorable little, blue cap on his tiny head. A few wisps of dark blond hair curled out from under it, showing William his DNA was definitely dominant. Chuckling, he touched the little head almost reverently. It was such an amazing thing to witness, a baby being born.
 

Michelle was looking down at her little son with an awed expression; she’d never seen anything so beautiful in her life. The tiny, perfect fingers were clenched into little fists, his little rosy face squinched up; a little pout hovered on the minuscule bottom lip. Letting out a relieved laugh, Michelle leaned against her husband, feeling exhausted but happy.

“He’s finally here,” she whispered. William leaned forward over her shoulder and looked at her face; it was wet with tears, though she did not look unhappy.

“I love you, Michelle,” he said; his voice was replete with sincerity. “We made him out of our love for each other.” At his words Michelle looked up, into the bright blue eyes she knew so well. They shone with pride and love, for her and their boy; his smile warmed her through, knowing the words he spoke were true.

“You’re right; we did,” she assented, smiling back. “I love you, William.” Her man caressed her hair and looked over at their son.

“He looked like an Ethan,” he said, quietly. Michelle looked down at the newborn in her arms as well.

“He does,” she said, surprised. “How did we not think of that name before?” William chuckled, touching the baby’s head.

“I don’t know,” he said, smiling at the little mite. “Ethan.”

“Ethan Lawrence,” Michelle suggested. “For your mother.” William laughed, a little.

“Not bad,” he said. Slipping his hand under Michelle’s chin, he looked into her lovely eyes again. “You’ve made my life good, Michelle. Every part of my life is better because of you.” Michelle felt tears flooding her eyes and blinked them away.

“I can honestly say the same, my dear sir,” she said, unsteadily. She saw a familiar look in her man’s eye; Michelle let William kiss her, implanting the tender moment forever in her mind.

A few hours later, William sat on a large chair by his wife's hospital bed, watching over his small family. Ethan slept peacefully in Michelle’s loving arms, full and content with his first feeding. His beautiful mother was asleep as well, completely tired out. William was amazed at how she was able to stay cognizant until she was certain her son had fed and burped properly. She had much more strength than she’d previously suspected; her husband was not surprised. He already knew Michelle was a remarkable young woman; he was just grateful to have her for his own. And a son, now as well.

“Life is good,” William said, leaning his head on the head rest so he could look at the sleeping pair better. A contented smile rested on his lips, his eyes a little more watery than he’d like to admit.

A soft knock came at the door of Michelle’s private room; looking up, William saw his mother standing in the doorway, with Alfred right behind her. Smiling, William stood up, opening the door to let them in. Margaret gave her son a tight hug, smiling brightly; her face looked a little younger all the sudden and her eyes were full of pride and excitement. Alfred shook William’s hand heartily, beaming broadly. Putting a finger briefly to his lips, William turned and pointed at the hospital bed. Margaret gasped, quietly, her hands clasped to her chest.

“Oh, how precious!” she whispered, moving a little closer. Alfred smiled, clapping William on the shoulder.

“Congratulations, William,” he said, quietly. “There is nothing like it, now isn’t there?” William smiled at the aged man then looked over at his sleeping wife and son.

“Indeed not,” he said. “She’s so beautiful... so is the baby.” Alfred chuckled a little and slipped a cigar into William’s shirt pocket.

“There you go, lad,” he said, smiling. “A fine young boy there.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” William said, clasping the man’s hand. “I appreciate you coming by.”

Margaret was in quiet ecstasies over the sight of her little grandson.

“Oh, William!” she said, softly. “He’s adorable! Just beautiful! Well done, my boy... well done.”

“Thank you,” William said, leaning down to receive a motherly kiss from her. “His name is Ethan Lawrence.” Margaret smiled even wider.

“Perfect!” she said, clapping her hands a little. “Oh, what a darling! He looks like an Ethan, too. And you snuck in Lawrence, too. I appreciate that, my boy. It was my father’s name. I adored him; he looks like my father a little. Oh, he’s lovely!” Taking out a slim digital camera, she took several pictures of the mother and baby, Alfred and William as well, much to her son’s amusement.

“I can see this is an indication of times to come,” he said, shaking his head. Margaret smiled at him.

“It is a grandmother’s right to take copious photos,” she said, sagely. She stood by Michelle and laid her hand gently on the top of the young woman’s head. “Poor thing. Did she have much trouble?”

William’s face fell a little at the memory of his precious wife going unconscious.

“A little,” he admitted. Margaret looked concerned. “She fainted for a few minutes until they stopped her bleeding.” William continued, sitting down in the chair again. “Gave me one hell of a scare.”

He felt Alfred’s hand on his shoulder and looked at the man.

“It’s a good thing she’s strong, then,” the elderly man said, smiling. William nodded, looking over at Michelle. She stirred a little in her sleep.

“We’ll come back later,” Margaret said, softly. She gently caressed little Ethan’s head; the natural affection on her face touched William deeply.

“We’ll go eat in the cafeteria for awhile, and let her rest.”

“I’ll come get you in a bit,” William said, stand up. “Visiting hours last until eight I believe.” Margaret nodded; she gave William another kiss on his face and let Alfred escort her from the room.

Sighing, William stood a moment by the bed, his hands in his pockets; he suddenly wished he was a painter, so he could capture the serene scene in front of him. It was not secret to him why some master artists had chosen a mother holding her baby as models; the natural affection represented clenched at the heart and brought a smile to one’s face. He stood there, feeling grateful Michelle had come through the ordeal of childbirth alright, and that his son was apparently perfectly healthy.

“Thank you, God,” he whispered, smiling benevolently down on his wife and child.

A soft sigh brought William from his reverie. Michelle’s eyes opened and she yawned, looking around a little. She saw William and smiled.

“Hello,” she said, softly; her eyes were bright and warm again, a little more color in her face. William smiled at her, sitting down on the chair; he scooted it forward so they could sit as close as possible.

“Hello, love,” he replied, “You look a little better.” He clasped one of her slender hands and brought it to his lips.

“I feel ok…” Michelle said. “Just tired.” Her eyed drifted down to the sleeping babe in her arms. “Ethan,” she said, softly. “Is he perfect or is it just me?” William’s chuckle made her look back up. Her husband’s blue eyes radiated warmth.

“It’s just you,” William said, teasingly. “He’s rather like a pale raisin, really...”

Michelle made a face and jabbed her man slightly in his ribs with her finger. Laughing, William confiscated her hand and kissed it. “I’m joshing you, love,” he said, smiling at his wife. “When I saw him first, I thought he was just gorgeous. I cannot explain it really; I’ve seen babies before but he is adorable.” Michelle’s eyes grew soft at his words; William’s face fairly shone with pride and affection as he gazed at the baby.

“I know what you mean,” she said, gently. “I think it’s because he’s ours.” William slid his arm behind Michelle’s shoulders, leaning close to her face.

“I think you are right,” he said. “While you were sleeping I was mulling over how it will be to watch him grow up... him and the others.” Michelle giggled, a little tiredly.

“Just give me a few months before we try for more...” she said, smiling up at her man. William kissed her face. There was no real way to convey the tenderness of his feelings at the moment; a little over a year ago, he’d been a lonely workaholic with only an aging valet for company. Now held his wife and newborn son in his arms, feeling completely unable to express his gratitude.

“I’m very happy,” was all he said. His wife regarded him with her odd, lovely eyes; William saw real trust
and affection in them.
 

“So am I,” said she. William could think of no better answer than to kiss her. Michelle did not mind; to her, thought his kiss far outweighed entire sonnets of prose.

CHAPTER THIRTY

A lone figure stood on a section of white-sanded coastline, looking out over the Pacific Ocean; pensive gray eyes took in the scene of the blue-gray water endlessly washing up over the sand. A cool breeze blew, tempering the warm rays of the California sun. The man looked down at his watch; smiling, he turned away from the water, stepping over towards a beach blanket carefully laid out, by a wide umbrella and several chairs.