A final touch smooths out a few last remaining wrinkles.
Allison Cassandra Grahme (née MacGyver) steps back and regards the cradle. It's a beautiful piece of furniture, solid natural oak, matching a chest of drawers and a changing table. Her mother had scrimped and saved to buy the set for their nursery before Christopher was born, four years ago.
Now it awaits the imminent arrival of his sister.
She's sick and tired of being pregnant. Sick and tired of carrying the extra weight, sick and tired of all the various little discomforts accompanying the life growing inside her over the past nine months. Two babies are more than enough, she thinks. No need to add any more to the world's population.
She's looking forward to raising her daughter, but now she just wants to get this over with.
Michael's currently at a state teachers' conference in Bend, two hours' drive east, on the other side of the Cascade mountain range. Last May he'd been offered a job by a school district in Oregon, which was fortunate since Allison had already planned to enroll at the university here to further pursue her psychology degree. Not long after that she discovered she was pregnant again. So they left the commune in Seattle (they still regularly keep in touch), moved south to Salem and found a nice house not too far from campus, with a large city park and good schools for the kids coincidentally nearby.
Nine months later and they're still moving in, it seems. A task made somewhat more difficult with a four-year-old boy on the loose- causing all sorts of trouble- and his incoming sister.
Good thing her own brother's here, Allison muses. They've given each other a hard time growing up but today she's glad he's in town looking after them.
She shivers, remembering Minnesota's bitter cold winters, well below freezing even near the end of February. The Pacific Northwest is a much better environment to raise children in, she decides. More rain than snow.
She resolves to only return to Mission City for short visits, show off the kids to their grandmother, perhaps. God forbid she'll ever have to move back there permanently-
"Hey, Allie? Where d'you want this?" Her brother stands in the doorway, hefting a heavy cardboard box. He's got their dad's rangy height, brown hair and intense dark gaze, whereas she takes more after their mom- petite and slight (when not pregnant, that is) with blue eyes and auburn hair.
"Over here by the dresser, Angus."
He grimaces as he sets the box down. "Aw c'mon Sis, you know how much I hate that name. Can't you at least call me Mac like everyone else does?"
"What, and give up my birthright as older sister to tease you mercilessly? Not on your life." She winces at the sudden jolt from within. "Ouch, that hurts."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. For the past couple of days she's been getting kinda restless, that's all. Just little kicks here and there." She smiles wryly. "Can't wait any longer to meet her uncle, I guess."
Mac reaches over, gently placing a hand on the dress covering his sister's expanded belly. "Hey, calm down in there. I'm really looking forward to seeing you too, but there's no reason to take it out on your mom. Give her a break, okay?"
Abruptly the kicking stops.
Allison chuckles. "Not even born and already paying attention to you, little brother."
"Well-behaved kid. Wait, she? You already know the gender?"
She nods. "Since Dr. Webber did the amniocentesis last year. It's a girl, and healthy. That's all we need to know, really."
"That's terrific. Can't wait to have a niece. Got a name picked out yet?"
"We're thinking about naming her after Mom, but not sure if it should be first or middle."
"Definitely middle. Having three Ellens in the family would be kinda confusing."
Allison laughs. "You're probably right. Now we just have to figure out a first name. Was that Mom on the phone earlier?"
"Yeah, just checking in. You know, making sure everything's okay, threatening to disown me if I don't call her back soon as the baby's born. You wouldn't believe how much she's looking forward to being a grandmother for the second time."
"Too bad she couldn't fly out with you. Come west for a change, see the Pacific Ocean. You know she hasn't traveled outside of Minnesota in years? Not since Harry left, anyway."
"Well, there was just enough extra money budgeted for one plane ticket. Besides, you know how Mom feels about leaving only one of us working alone at the coffee shop."
"Still, she needs a vacation, same as you." Allison winces again at another kick. "Oooh, that's bad."
"Hey, why don't you sit down for a bit? Chris is taking a nap and you sure could use a break." Mac guides her to the rocking chair by the window; she collapses with a faint sigh. "Ready to pop any day now, huh?"
"You better believe it. I feel like a walking watermelon. Thanks for being here while Michael's gone."
He shrugs. "No problem. Good to get away sometimes, you know?"
"How're things between you and Ellen? Any talk yet of having kids?"
"God, you're as bad as Mom that way. She keeps asking every other day, it seems. I'm gonna go downstairs and make you some herbal tea, okay? Just take it easy, Sis. Be right back."
Mac swiftly leaves the room. It dawns on her he didn't exactly answer the question.
Interesting.
Hours later, a cold, stormy night. Not much else to do but sit and watch TV with her brother, try to work on the blanket she's been knitting. But even that gets boring fast.
Finally Allison gets up from the overstuffed armchair in the middle of Johnny Carson. "I'm gonna check on Chris and take a shower before bed. You okay sleeping down here?"
Mac stretches out his long legs on the sofa. "No problem, Sis. This is a lot more comfortable than the one back home, believe me."
Once upstairs she peeks in on her little boy, sleeping peacefully in his bed. He's so much like Michael, curious and full of life as well as loving and caring. She hopes he won't get too jealous of his little sister hogging all the attention for a while, though.
She turns on the water in the shower, undresses and slips under the spray, hoping the hot water will get the kinks out of her back and allow her to sleep for once. God, she'd absolutely kill for uninterrupted rest without having to use the toilet every few hours.
Though if past experience with Chris proves anything there'll be plenty of other interruptions once the baby's born, she thinks with a wry smile.
The first contraction hits just as Allison turns off the water. Grabbing the edge of the tub, she breathes into the pain, recalling the Lamaze classes she attended during the first pregnancy. This feels different than the Braxton-Hicks contractions she's been having on and off lately. It fades just as quickly as it arrives, however.
She notes the time, dries herself off. There's no hurry yet and she doesn't want to alarm her brother unnecessarily.
Five minutes later there's a second contraction. She grits her teeth at the sudden pain.
Okay, so maybe she is in a hurry. All of a sudden her daughter wants out. Now.
"Mac!"
Mac looks up from watching a late-night Western at his sister's yell and immediately rises from the sofa, dashing upstairs. "What's wrong, Allie? You going into labor?"
"Yeah. Thought it was just starting but now feels like it's further along than I thought." She tightens her hands on her belly as another contraction hits. "Oh, god."
"What can I do?"
"Get the car ready. My suitcase for the hospital is already packed. I'll call Mrs. Roberts and see if she can come over and look after Chris until Michael gets here."
"When's he due back?"
"Not until tomorrow morning. You saw the weather report- it may be pouring here in the valley but it's a blizzard up in the mountains. Since the highway over the pass might not be cleared until midday at the earliest, I'm guessing he won't be here until late. Go get the car."
"On it."
Once the station wagon's ready he comes back in time for Mrs. Roberts to arrive from next door. When they reach Allison she's attempting to breathe through yet another contraction, sweating heavily, surprised by the intensity of the pains.
"Not too long now," clucks the elderly neighbor. "You'd better get her to the hospital right away, young man. No sense in waiting for her husband; I'll let him know what's happened when he arrives."
The ride's fortunately uneventful, though Mac drives slower than he'd like due to the darkness and pouring rain. Every time his sister cries out in pain from her contractions makes him start and involuntarily pump the brakes.
"Geez Allie, you sure you're doing okay?"
"I'm fine," she says through gritted teeth. "Just get me there in one piece, will you?"
It's well after midnight when he jerks to a stop in front of the emergency entrance and honks the horn; a nurse soon arrives with a wheelchair, helping her out of the car and wheeling her straight through to the hospital's birthing wing. "Dr. Webber's been paged. Are you her husband?" she asks as Mac trails after them.
"Her brother," he pants, trying to keep up. "He won't make it back 'til sometime tomorrow."
"All right, no hope for it, you'll need to be scrubbed and gowned so you can help in the delivery room."
He stops short. "So I can what?"
"Just sit beside me and hold my hand, Mac," his sister snaps at him. "I need all the moral support I can get. It's not like you'll be assisting the doctor at the business end, for crying out loud!"
God, she must be in a lot of pain to get so snippy. Best just to go along with it.
The examination by Dr. Webber shows she's fully dilated and the baby's beginning to crown. The contractions are coming rapidly now and she's obviously in a lot of pain. The nurses expertly elevate her legs in the stirrups. "Okay, Allison," the young obstetrician says. "Everything looks good from here, so you can go ahead and start pushing."
"Oh, thank god. Finally."
Mac's sitting next to her the whole time, holding her hand tightly, occasionally mopping the sweat from her brow. He's trying to convince himself he doesn't look as terrified as he feels. He wants to be strong, to be the rock she can rely on.
He's failing miserably. Truth is he's scared out of his mind.
It's terrifying to witness Allison in this much pain and know there's nothing he can do about it. He feels so darn helpless.
Then they share a glance and all his self-doubt dissolves at the trust he sees in her eyes.
They're family. He's here for his sister when it matters most. That's all there is to it.
Another contraction. She starts pushing with all her might.
He wipes her face tenderly with a cool washcloth. "You're doing great, Allie. Just keep going a little more. You're almost there."
"The hell I am. I'm so damned tired of this-" She groans from the pain tearing through her body and bears down.
It's just after dawn in the middle of a torrential downpour when the baby is finally delivered, crying for the first time as she's checked out by Dr. Webber. "Congratulations," he says. "You have a girl, and she's in great shape. Now it's time for you to get some well-deserved rest, so I'll leave you to it."
A nurse deftly wipes down the infant with a surgical cloth, wraps her in a blanket and puts her on Allison's belly.
"Oh, Mac. Just look at her," she says tearfully. "My daughter, at last."
He's speechless at the sight of the new baby girl. Her face is as red as her hair and somewhat squished from the effort of forcing her way into the world, but to him she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"Yeah," he finally chokes. "She's perfect. Like a sweet little princess. But what're we gonna call her? Hey," grabbing at the arm of the nearest nurse. "What's your first name?"
Green eyes sparkle in mirth above the surgical mask. "Rebecca."
"Rebecca," Allison muses. "Rebecca Ellen Grahme. I like it."
"So do I," he admits.
Hours later Mac suddenly wakes, startled by a faint cry. He glances around until he sees Allison smiling at him, cradling her daughter. "Hey, little brother."
"Hey yourself, big sister." He rises from the cramped chair and stretches. "You guys doing okay?"
"Everything's just fine," she says. "You wanna hold her?"
His jaw drops. "You sure?" She seems so fragile, he's afraid of hurting her.
Allison smiles wryly, as if she knows what he's thinking. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Mac. Couldn't have done this without you, you know. Thanks."
"My pleasure."
As he cuddles the newborn close his heart swells with a sudden surge of emotion for the precious girl resting in his arms. He suddenly realizes he's completely smitten with his niece. Love at first sight.
And he'll do anything to make sure his little princess is safe and happy. Anything. Whatever it takes.
Maybe even die for her someday, if necessary.
Yet if he and Ellen ever do have kids of their own, he knows Becky will still always have a special place in his heart.
No doubt about it.
After all, he's her Uncle Mac.