Patty
A/N: I got this idea one day watching Gilmore girls and wondering how Miss Patty became…Miss Patty, so I just had to write this. This is my first fic (technically second, but I took that one down because it really sucked, and I want this one too be good), and I don't have a beta-reader, so please review (preferably gently, if it's bad) and/or volunteer. This A/N is long enough, so I'll give you the story now.
Chapter 1: Our Baby!
Once upon a time (Sort of. 1948, at least)…
There was a young man called Phil who lived in New York City. One night, he went out with some friends to a club. There he met a beautiful woman named Megan. He asked for her phone number, and, the next day, called and asked her on a date. She said yes, and a day later they had lunch. They had a great time, and continued to date for some time. They fought and argued occasionally, but not often. What couple doesn't? And they were always happy. Their friends knew they were soulmates. Some 8 months after they met, he asked her to marry him. She said yes. Their wedding was five months later, in Megan's hometown of Hartford, Connecticut. Two years later, Megan was pregnant.
1950
"I hear a heartbeat," said the doctor. a/n: I really don't know what they had in the way of baby technology back then, so I'm just guessing. "It sounds healthy."
"That's good! That's very good. Now, can we go home? I don't feel so good."
"Are you going to throw up again, dear?" asked Phil. Then, to the doctor, "She's been vomiting all week. Morning sickness, right?"
"Yes, it happens to most women, but don't worry, it will go—"
"Bleeaahgh!" And with that, Megan began to puke all over the floor.
"You were saying?" said Phil, as his wife recovered and apologized for throwing up on the floor.
"I was going to say, it will go away, but now doesn't seem like right time for that, does it?" said the doctor, slightly amused.
"Yes, well, we can't wait," said Megan, drinking a cup of water her husband had brought her.
"I know, nobody can. But just wait, and it'll be over before you know it, and you'll have a baby!"
"I can't wait for that, either!"
"I know, I know. Well, I don't have anything left to check on. Do you have any questions?"
"Do I look normal for 4 months?" asked Megan, tiredly.
"Yes, you do. Tired and pregnant. Is that all?" When Megan and Phil nodded, the doctor said, "Then you two can go home."
They went home, and in a flurry of doctor's appointments, vomit, back and ankle pain, and a baby shower, the next five months passed. A week before the due date, they had yet to decide on a name, and were getting anxious. One day, they were sitting in the kitchen, and Megan said, "What are we going to name the baby if it's a boy?"
Phil said, "I don't know. How about James, my father's name? Or Ken, your father's?"
Megan said, "Hmmm. They both sound good, and whichever we pick, one dad will be happy, so how about we pick when he's born?"
"What makes you so sure it's a he? What if it's a she?"
" I like Patricia. Then we could call her Patty. My first best friend's name was Patty."
"Do you still talk to her?"
"No, I don't even remember what she looked like, just that she was Patty. We were two or three years old," Megan paused, then said, "We loved to be together, and you couldn't separate us for a while, then we grew up a bit, and just…drifted apart, I guess. I don't remember, really. I think Patricia is a beautiful name, though."
Phil said, " Then Patricia it is. Patricia for a girl, James or Ken if it's a boy."
One week later, Phil and Megan were in the delivery room, with the doctor and quite a few nurses. Megan was not happy. Her face was red, she was sweating, and she was very uncomfortable.
"Okay, on three, you're going to push, ok?" said the nurse.
"Sure, sure!"
"One, two, three! PUSH!"
"I AM PUSHING!"
And the baby did not come out. This went on for a few hours, and while it was happening, Phil stood quietly, holding his wife's hand. Finally, the baby arrived.
"Ma'am, you have a baby girl!" cried out the nurse, happily.
"Can I hold her?"
"Just as soon as we wash her off."
In a few minutes, a dry, clean, blanketed baby girl was in Megan's arms, being cuddled and loved.
"Patricia," Phil whispered. "That's my daughter. Patricia."
"Patty," said Megan. "We should call her Patty."
"So, the name is Patricia?" asked the nurse. "For the birth certificate."
"Yes, our daughter's name is Patricia. Patty."
