Timothy brought in the bag of supplies the orphanage had offered to tide them over for the next day or so and closed the front door. He smiled at his parents. The baby was still asleep from the drive home. He moved to take off his coat, and his father stirred and removed his own.
"You'll have to take your coat off, Shelagh," Patrick said quietly.
"I know. I just don't want to put her down," she whispered.
"I promise I'll give her back," Patrick smiled.
Taking a deep breath, Shelagh pulled her eyes from her daughter and looked to her husband. "But only for a moment. You'll give her right back?"
"I promise." He took the baby into his arms, grateful for the small moment he had earned. Timothy took her coat and placed it on the coatrack. "We'll probably all be more comfortable in the sitting room, don't you think?" He rolled his eyes as he sidled past his parents.
Shelagh looked up at Patrick, and generously decided that he could hold her for a few more moments. Until they were sitting on the gold couch, anyway, and she followed their son into the room. Reluctantly, Patrick returned his precious cargo to her mother, and took his place by Shelagh's side.
"So, what are you going to call her?" Timothy asked.
"I don't know. I can't think, can you Patrick? All I can do is stare at our beautiful angel and thank God for our many, many joys." Patrick placed his arm around her back, drawing her to his side.
Timothy laughed. "Well that's it, then, isn't it? We should call her Angela. Angela Joy." He looked very satisfied with himself.
With a quick intake of breath, but not quite a gasp, Shelagh looked at her husband. He smiled back at her, nodding. Standing, Shelagh crossed over to Timothy's chair.
"Well, Angela Joy, it's time you met your big brother. Put out your arms, Timothy dearest."
And poor Patrick had to wait yet again to hold his daughter.
A/N: Of course they are all jockeying to hold the baby, now. Give it five minutes, when the nappy's wet. Guess who'll get to hold her then?