Sketch's POV
I'se watch Davey as he makes a crib fa our baby. I'se sew some clothes, since Andrew was buried with all da others I 'ad sewn pria ta 'is death. It's only days 'fore our baby is born, an everyboday is 'cited. Butta Fingas is tryin ta 'elp me's come up with some names. I'se think Davey an I'se is gonna name it Evan David if it's a boi, or Lousie Sage if it's a goil. I'se rub me stomach, certainly pleased. Davey is supa 'cited fa this baby. He finishes da crib. Thank goodness Davey's good with tools, or othawise we'd hafta buy da crib, an quite fran'ly we'se can't do that, its jus too 'pensive. Davey smiles sayin that our baby will only have da best we'se can give 'im. He walks on 'is knees ova ta me extremely large stomach. He rubs it while lookin up at me's , an smiling. I'se can't 'elp but smile too, 'cause 'is smile it 'tagious. He stands up, grabbin me 'ands, an tworlin me's round da 'partment. He begins hummin one o' da many Irish folk songs he knows. He kisses me cheek, an 'ugs me's from 'hind. "Jus' think,' he says smiling, "in a few days we'se will 'ave ourselves a lil' bundle o' joy, an we'se will be's parents". "I'se know Davey," I'se say turnin ta look at 'im, "I'se 'ope this goes well fa us. I'se is still shaky from Andrew an.. an..' my voice wavas a bit, "an da otha one..". Davey hugs me's tightly 'gain, whispain in me ear, "It's gonna be fine Sketch, you'se will be's fine, an so will da baby. 'sides we'se need ta go ta bed, we'se will need all da sleep we'se can get!" He kisses me 'ead, an goes inta da bedroom, carryin da crib with 'im. I'se follow close 'hind 'im. "You'se will be's fine Bridget,' I'se say ta meself, "this preg'ancy has been fine so far, now ta jus 'ave da baby." I'se quickly change as fast as a woman who's nine months preg'ant can, an crawl inta bed 'side Davey. He kisses me cheek 'gain 'fore we'se both doze off. "Goodnight baby Callahan," I'se think. Da baby kicks lightly in 'ply. I'se smile, an slip inta 'blivion that is sleep.
Davey's POV
I'se wake up ta Sketch moanin in 'er sleep. She's covered in sweat, an da bed feels kinda wet… she moans louder. I'se pull back da covas. It's wet, right near where a baby is sapposed ta come out of. I'se shake 'er lightly, she jolts awake. She is groggy for a moment. A 'notha wave o' pain sweeps ova 'er boday. Within seconds she's near tears. "Da baby is comin," she almost whispas, clutching her stomach. She groans I'se bolt up, throwin on me shirt. "I'se is gonna run ta get Butta Fingas, Smalls, an Hype." "Don't faget Star," Sketch whimpas. "I'se won't," I'se say, runnin outta our 'partment. I'se run ova ta Butta Fingas an Mike's 'partment, an hurriedly knock on da door. I'se 'ear footsteps, an Mike opens da door, nearly furious. "What ya want Davey?' He asks, 'nnoyed I'se has woken 'im up. "Sketch is in laba, an I'se need Butta Fingas." Mike snaps outta 'is mood, an quickly gets Butta Fingas. He volunteers ta go get Smalls, Hype, an Star fa us. I'se thank 'im, as Butta Fingas an I'se rush ova ta our 'partment. Sketch is lyin in our bed racked with pain. She groans, tearin up from da 'tractions. Butta Fingas tells me ta 'old 'er 'and. I'se do an tell 'er ta squeeze it as hard as needed. She gives me da death grip on me 'and, an pushes like Butta Fingas commands. Smalls, Hype an Star come in. they'se coax 'er an cheer fa 'er ta keep goin. She's basically screamin. "I'se can see da 'ead!" Butta Fingas says. Da goils squeal in delight. Sketch is groanin. Sweat pourin down 'er face, an neck. Finally, afta a few mo' aganizin minutes fa all o' us, me son is born. Butta Fingas cuts da cord, an me boy 'cides ta urinate everywhere. Smalls laughs, while Star, an Hype squeal in terror. Sketch rolls 'er eyes. Butta fingas quickly dipas 'im, an swaddles 'im. She 'ands 'im ta Sketch. Sketch looks at 'im, an smiles. "He's got ya 'air," she says ta me's lookin up. I'se 'old out me 'ands ta 'old 'im. Sketch 'ands 'im ova. I'se look at 'im. He's finally calmed down, indeed he 'as me 'air. He opens 'is eyes. I'se gasp, they are two spittin images o' Sketch's blue-green ones. He looks at me's for a moment, smackin 'is mouth, obviously 'ungry. I'se smile, an 'and 'im back ta Sketch ta be fed. Da goils shoo me's outta da 'partment, so I'se 'cide ta 'ead up ta da roof. I'se burst up there, an start ta laugh, so filled with joy. "I'SE HAS A SON!" I'se scream ta da whole city. I'se laugh some more, 'fore goin down ta da 'partment. Sketch is sleepin, an me son is in 'is crib. I'se look at 'em both, an grin. Da sheets are changed, so I'se crawl inta bed next ta sketch. She opens an eye, an says " 'is name is Evan David," 'fore closing 'er eye. "That's a poifect name," I'se say kissin 'er cheek. We'se fall 'sleep in an 'appy heap. "I'se has a son now," I'se think, "now fa me's ta be a betta fatha than me own fatha was."
