4. Formality
Patrick Turner always found it amusing when Jenny Lee struggled with convention. Though he knew four years of working closely in a professional setting were not so easily forgotten, he was unable to hide his mirth when she awkwardly addressed him as 'Doctor Turner' despite her place as an honored guest at their wedding reception.
"I think you can safely call me Patrick today," he had replied kindly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his radiant bride stifling a giggle. Neither Trixie nor Cynthia, standing just behind a flustered Jenny, made any attempt to disguise their laughter.
"You're offering your congratulations, Jenny, not asking for his professional assessment!" Trixie's exclamation quickly dissolved into a fit of laughter as she and Cynthia practically carried the horrified Jenny away from the newlyweds.
"I suspect this will take some getting used to," Shelagh mused with a playful squeeze of his hand. "The nurses don't really know you without your title."
"She didn't seem to have any problem calling you 'Shelagh.'"
"Jenny was raised with a certain level of decorum and propriety. Don't you remember her first days? We assigned her to Conchita Warren."
Patrick grinned at the memory. "Her face was stark white when I met her. I thought she was about to leap out of her skin when Mrs. Warren refused to allow the doctors anywhere near her baby.
His wife had smiled warmly then, and not for the first time, Patrick was distracted by Shelagh's peaceful attitude and the practical way in which she dealt with others' perception of their new status. That her wedding gown accentuated certain features not normally on display did not help matters, and with a gentle hand against her waist, all thoughts of Jenny Lee and her rigidity were immediately forgotten.
As the days turned into months and their status as "newlyweds" quickly evolved into "husband and wife," Patrick noted that though Nurse Lee was one of the last of their colleagues to fully adapt to their union within her social sphere, she was eventually able to let her guard down in their company.
When Shelagh announced that she intended to have Nurse Lee attend to the birth of their first child, however, Patrick was truly taken aback.
"Are you certain that's best?" said he, bemoaning his wife's confusing and slightly worrisome choice. "Surely she wouldn't be entirely comfortable in that position?"
"She's already said yes, Patrick, and I want her to be there. If she didn't feel capable, I don't think she would have agreed. Social awkwardness aside, Jenny is the most efficient midwife I know."
Patrick shook his head in disbelief. "She can barely make a joke in our presence, and you want her to deliver our child? What about Sister Julienne? Surely she's the more logical choice?"
"She'll be there as well." Shelagh's hand rested gently against the small swell of her abdomen. Beneath the fabric of her own nurse's uniform, their baby had only just begun to make its presence known. "I've asked them both for their help when the time comes."
Patrick sighed in defeat. He knew better than to argue with his wife when she made up her mind. Her judgment was so rarely misguided.
When the day finally came, Patrick found himself in a position he once thought he would never relive. Shelagh's contractions had begun in the middle of the night, and in line with their shared medical opinion, the midwife was summoned around noon that same day; when the pains became too close together to delay the inevitable.
Sister Julienne and Nurse Lee arrived in record time and were immediately updated on Shelagh's progress by a nervous Patrick. With a lingering kiss against his wife's warm, slightly-pale forehead, he was customarily ushered out of their bedroom.
"Don't worry, Patrick; we're taking excellent care of her," Jenny Lee met him some time later on her way to the kitchen in search of hot water. In an uncharacteristic display of kinship, she touched his arm. "She's doing so well." Though he was touched by her reassurance, Patrick could only nod and resume his silent vigil in the sitting room beside Timothy.
As the day wore on, Patrick's anxiety heightened drastically. Despite his intimate knowledge of the trials of labor and delivery, the time spent waiting grated on his very being. In the last hour, his wife's cries had grown louder, waking Timothy from a nap and lending absolutely nothing to Patrick's fortitude.
"She'll be all right, dad?" The boy asked, rubbing his eyes drowsily.
"Do you remember what Sister Julienne told you the other day? About Shelagh?"
"She told me not to worry and said it would sound a lot worse than it really was."
"That's very good advice," Patrick chuckled, silently reassured by his colleague's wise words.
Upstairs, however, the bedroom opened with a resounding creak and Patrick's heart jumped to his throat. "Doctor!" Nurse Lee called from the top of the stairs. "A word?"
He leapt off the sofa and sprinted up the stairs. On the landing, his unbridled fears met the Nurse Lee he knew best: stoic, professional, and impossible to read. But all at once, her façade dissolved into the most genuine smile he had ever seen on Jenny Lee's face.
"Are you ready to meet your daughter, Doctor Turner?"
A/N: I'm sorry for the slight wait, but I'm hoping the comparative length of this drabble makes up for it! Once again, thank you so much for all of your reviews!
Another quick aside: this moment is one of few that I plan to explore from several different angles and perspectives throughout the story. New life is such a pivotal aspect of Call the Midwife, and I intend to reflect that here. And don't worry, their little girl's name will be revealed in the next installment! :)