Friedrich Bhaer paced the parlor anxiously. Jo's labor had begun more than twelve hours ago and still no babe appeared. They had been lulled into a false sense of security with the birth of their first son, Rob, two years ago. The birth had been quite easy, according to Jo. She had confined herself to her chambers soon after lunch and was cradling their firstborn at tea time. For this one, Jo had shut herself up with the midwife and her mother before breakfast. The whole day passed and the candles have now been lit, and still no babe has appeared.
Friedrich rubbed his face and then ran his hands through his hair, making his bushy beard and thick hair stand on end and producing quite a lion-like effect to his looks. He glanced about the parlor, the bright, cheery fire in the hearth belying the feeling of anxiousness pervading the modest room. Mr. March sat on the sofa, the open Bible forgotten in his lap. The good minister thought to read through some of his favorite passages to lend him strength and comfort. As the day wore on, worry overcame his endeavor to read. In the easy chair opposite sat Jo's oldest and dearest friend, Laurie. Concern wrinkled his handsome features and there was an anxious pallor in his normally healthy olive complexion. His wife and Jo's sister Amy had been part of the vigil earlier in the day, but Amy went back to their home to attend to some social calls at their house that could not be canceled or delayed. Meg and John Brooke had been to the house earlier as well with their brood. They have gone back home for supper and had graciously taken Rob with them to care for the toddler until the newest Bhaer made its arrival.
The door at the end of the hall opened and shut, and presently Marmee appeared, pale with exhaustion and worry. Both Mr. March and Laurie rose and the three men approached her, eager for news. "The baby's still breech, I'm afraid, " Marmee said as Mr. March grasped his wife's hands. "Jo's bearing it as best she can. All we can do right now is wait and pray."
A low groan could be heard from the other end of the house and Marmee flew to the back room and a slamming of the door could be heard. Friedrich turned and braced and hand on the mantlepiece, staring into the fire. Behind him Laurie sank back into his chair and buried his face in his hands, the picture of dejection. Mr. March crossed the room to join Friedrich, laying a hand on the other man's shoulder, attempting to provide comfort when he himself needed succor as well. Another long low groan sounded, and it was a difficult minute listening to the pain filled wail. Friedrich balled his fists against his helplessness. Mr. March started saying prayers under his breath. Laurie's entire body shook with a shudder. At the despairing sound from the younger man, Friedrich turned and placed a large hand on the quaking shoulder. "Haf faith mein friend," he said, attempting to keep his voice steady. "Jo ees strong. She shall get through this."
Laurie lifted his head and Friedrich saw his own pain reflected in those deep fathomless eyes. Friedrich also saw another emotion simmering in those dark depths. One that his logical mind always knew, but his generous heart turned a blind eye to. "Stay strong, mein friend," Friedrich said gruffly, giving the shoulder a squeeze and turning away, not wanting to reveal to the other man that he had known all along.
What seemed like an eternity later, the door opened and Marmee appeared. "Friedrich, come," she beckoned and hastened away.
Friedrich followed his mother in law with his heart in his throat. Marmee's tone did not indicate whether what he would meet at the other side of the door would be good or bad. He stepped through the threshold and saw his exhausted wife in their bed, propped up by pillows cradling a flannel bundle. She looked up and smiled tiredly at Friedrich. "I would like to call him Teddy," she said simply.
Friedrich sat at the edge of their bed and held his arms out. Marmee passed the precious bundle from mother to father before leaving the room to give them privacy. Jo kept her eyes on her husband's face. She worried her lip with her teeth, her unease thinly masked by her fatigue. Friedrich looked down at the sleeping cherub in his arms, taken aback by the shock of thick dark hair that crowned the tiny head. "He ees beautiful," he murmured.
The babe yawned widely, blinking its eyes up at Friedrich. And that's when he saw the same night dark eyes that he had looked into scarcely a half hour before. The breath caught in his throat, and the logic in his brilliant mind once again whispered its knowledge to his heart. But that heart, generous and forgiving, simply took that knowledge and pledged to love that tiny being in his arms as his own and love and forgive the weary woman in the bed.
Jo saw the range of emotions play across that face opposite, and wanted to weep when she saw the simple love he had for the innocent child, despite her grievous sin. He raised his eyes and gazed at his wayward wife, all love and forgiveness conveyed without words. Jo leaned forward and embraced her husband and son, feeling undeserving of such an abiding love, yet grateful at the same time.
xox
A/N: I've been re-reading Little Women and Good Wives for the past few days, and wondered what if it wasn't physically possible for Mr. Bhaer to have fathered his and Jo's youngest son in his advanced age. There was also the fact that they had named him Teddy, after Laurie. This was how I imagined how Mr. Bhaer could possibly have handled Jo's, eh, indiscretion.