Letters

A post finale fic.

Donald Hollinger paced up and down the narrow hallway in hospital waiting room while he waited for an update on Ann's condition. He used to pride himself on being calm in high stress situations, but when Ann was in distress, being calm was something he was not very good at.

"Mr. Hollinger," a young candy stripper said. "Would you like some more coffee?" She asked gesturing to the mug in his hand.

Donald glanced down and realized that the coffee she poured him nearly a half hour ago was hardly touched. "No, thank you. Have you heard anything about my wife?"

The candy stripper smiled sadly. "No, sir. They don't tell me anything about the patients. You'll have to talk to a nurse about that."

Donald looked at his watch. "It's just that Ann has been in there for almost seven hours now. Is that normal?" He asked.

The brown-haired candy stripper who was probably seven or eight years younger than Ann shrugged. "Every situation is different, Mr. Hollinger. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you." He flashed a trademark smile. "But thanks for offering."

The candy stripper walked away and Donald sighed has he picked up his pen and notebook. He had a deadline coming up for his article, but with Ann in labor and his first child on his or her way, he was finding it very difficult to focus. He shook his head in disappointment with what he had written and flipped to a new page.

As he brought the pen to the paper to jot down some ideas for his article, he suddenly realized that it had been awhile since he wrote a love letter to Ann. With a small smile, he decided to scrap the plans for the article and write a letter to Ann instead – hopefully it would clear his head and calm his nerves. Unlike writing the article, the words he wanted to say to Ann came so incredibly naturally.

My darling Ann,

You are remarkable.

I knew you were remarkable from the very first time we met, and each and every day we spent together, I found another reason to love you – another reason to remind me of how remarkably amazing you are. It's all those little things you do that make you- you.

Did you know that sometimes I get up a few hours early just to watch you sleep? To admire in awe the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face, and that hair of yours that never seems to be out of place in any way. Sometimes, I question how a guy like me was lucky enough to end up with a girl like you. There are even times when I find myself staring at you while we are doing the simplest things – cooking dinner, walking to the subway, doing the laundry - because I can never stop admiring your beauty.

Your inner beauty will never cease to astound me, either. I love the way you show compassion to people, how you are always willing to go above and beyond for anyone that needs help. Your witty sense of humor never ceases to bring a smile to my face. I love how your face lights up when you tell me a story, or recount a part of your day. Your joy brings me so much happiness and I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.

I treasure every day we spend together, especially the day you told me we were going to be parents. I remember every detail as if happened an hour ago. I remember the clothes you were wearing, the scent of your perfume, and sparkle in your eyes. You had the whole evening planned out- a romantic candlelight dinner for two, a fire glowing in the fireplace, and the jazz record you had on playing in the background. You had the scene staged perfectly, but of course something had to wrong. I was late coming home and as a result, the dinner you were keeping warm inevitably burned and as if that wasn't bad enough you were so upset that you somehow managed to knock over the water pitcher as you were pouring a glass of water. The water was all over the table, all over our food, and all over my pants!

You were so upset over what happened, and I couldn't understand why. I thought it was rather amusing and just the sort of thing that would happen to us. I got up to change and you followed me to the bedroom and plopped down on the bed. You were rambling in that high-pitched voice like you always do when you are upset about something, tears were pooling in your eyes.

The only thing I could make out that you said was - "If I can't even be a good wife, how can I be a good mother?"

And that was it...that was the moment that seemed to freeze time. Everything that followed seemed to happen so slowly and so quickly all at the time. I don't even know how much time had passed before I spoke. It must have been too long because you said "Oh, Donald, don't be upset. I'll be a good mother. I promise. I won't let you down."

You? Let me down? Never! Never, Ann. That would never be possible. You are sensational, strong, funny, and smart. I wasn't upset- I was thrilled, overjoyed, elated. I couldn't possibly be upset. Not when you and I were going to be parents. It was some of the best news I had ever heard in my entire life. I'm sorry that my silence made you feel as if I thought you wouldn't be a good mother. That thought never crossed my mind – not once.

I know you had your share of insecurities these past few months – as many expectant mothers (fathers!) do, so I just wanted to get a few things out there. You are as beautiful to me now as the day we first met. You will be a wonderful, loving mother. You can be a wife, a mother, and an actress. You don't have to give up your career; you can do it all. It doesn't matter what your mother and father think or tell you to do. We can make anything work. I know I teased you a lot when you tried to get me to go to that woman's liberation meeting before we married, but it is important to me that you I know I have always seen you as my equal.

There are certain things that a husband wants to do for his wife: provide for her, protect her, and cherish her, and while those are all things that I love to do, I also know that you are independent, smart, and resourceful. I take comfort in that because should something ever happen to me, I know you will be able to make your way for yourself and our family.

You are my number one pick, Ann. I couldn't imagine the journey of life without you by my side. It has been a great six and half years with you, and I can't wait to step into all of the ups and downs of parenthood with you – together, we are a team. Together, we can do anything.

All my love.

Donald

Donald folded up the letter and placed it in his pocket.

"Mr. Hollinger?" A voice called out.

Donald jumped to his feet. "Yes, that's me," he replied as he stepped in the direction of the voice. "How is my wife?"

"Mrs. Hollinger is just fine," the nurse replied. "Please follow me."

"And the baby? How's the baby?"

"The baby is just fine, too, Mr. Hollinger." She replied as she stepped aside and ushered Donald through the door. "We're heading to the nursery now so we can peak in, and then I will take you to your wife. She should be allowed to have visitors soon."

Donald and the nurse came to a stop in front of the nursery window. There were rows of babies bundled in blue and pink blankets, all so tiny and precious.

"Which one is Baby Hollinger?" Donald asked, excitedly.

"Right there," the nurse pointed to a baby in the third row, fourth bassinet in, all bundled in pink. "That girl."

"That girl," Donald whispered as he touched the glass, watching as another nurse came to place a placard that said Baby Girl Hollinger in the bassinet.

"Does she have a name yet?" The nurse asked curiously.

Donald nodded, but didn't answer her question directly as he was too focused on his daughter and how much she looked like her mother. "Welcome to the world, Little Marie Hollinger. We're so glad you're here."