Rationally, Gail knows it isn't Steve's fault that she's feeling this way. But that won't stop her from blaming him for the heavy aching pressure she's had building under her ribs for the past few months.

She's sitting on a padded window seat in a sunny room, swinging her legs and watching while her brother changes a diaper on his four-day-old son. Ethan's caramel skin and curly dark hair are a sharp contrast to the pale blue sleeper Steve is gently guiding tiny arms and legs into. The tiny boy is barely bigger than his father's hands, but Steve lifts him off the changing table and fits him into the crook of his arm as if he's been doing it his whole life.

Steady, that's what Gail thinks when she thinks of her brother. He's been a rock in her life, a strong and solid presence since as far back as she can remember. He was the first person in her life that loved her absolutely and for herself, not for who she was or what she could bring to the family legacy.

And now he's not hers anymore. Now he's a partner and a father and his steady hands will guide his two young boys, and however many more there are to come, to be the kind of strong and gentle, kind and whole-hearted men that he is. And amid all her happy feelings, her joy at seeing Steve wrestle with Leo or whisper into his newborn son's ear while he rubs soothing circles on the boy's tiny back, at watching him hold hands with Traci in the absentminded moments of the day, amid all these things Gail is just a little bit sad. She feels just the hint of a loss.

Privately, she's convinced that this is just the way things are; all the happiest moments in her life seem to be tinged with the slightest hint of sadness.

She's lost in this train of thought when a tiny stuffed rabbit hits her in the face.

"Where'd you go, Gaily," Steve says softly, his old nickname for her earning him a scowl, "you were off in Gail-land. What's up with you?"

She picks at the fur on the rabbit, feeling the ache in her chest pulse hot and heavy with the beat of her heart. She pushes it back down, she's supposed to be celebrating her new nephew today, not mourning how her world has changed. Not trying to figure out whether it's changed for the better or not.

"Oh, nothing, Ugly. I'm just hoping that poor kid inherited Traci's looks. I'd hate for him to be stuck with your stupid face."

He laughs out loud and crosses the room in broad strides to pull her head into his chest and drop a kiss on her forehead, smirking when she tries to pull out of his grasp.

"Now, Gail Peck," he says, ignoring her muttering, "it's time for you to meet your nephew."

"I came to the hospital, you big oaf," she says, smoothing her hair back, "we've already met."

"No," he responds as he prods her toward the rocking chair in the corner of the room. "You and Holly came to the hospital. Holly met Ethan. You stood in the corner of the room and glared at mom when you weren't sneaking looks at your girl."

His hand on her shoulder guides to sit and then, to her terror, he starts to lower the bundle in his arms.

"What, are you crazy," she whispers furiously at him, "I don't know what to do with a baby."

"It's simple," he responded, maneuvering her arms into place before gently placing his son in them, "his head gets supported by your elbow, his butt by your hand, and if your arm gets tired, you support your elbow with your other arm."

"Now," he says, stepping back, "Ethan, meet your crazy Aunt Gail. She's probably going to be one who teaches you to swear and drink, so you're going to want to keep her around."

She looks down at the weight in her arms, and some of that hot heaviness in her chest slips away. He's beautiful in that angelic innocence that all babies seem to have while sleeping. He has a tiny button nose that belies no obvious parental inheritance, but she knows from the pictures on Holly's cell phone that he has Traci's dark, dark eyes. And his tiny lips, pursed and smacking just the slightest as he dreams, those are all Steve. This boy is going to be a heart-breaker.

He might have already broken hers.

"If you're really lucky," she leans in and whispers, "I'll get your Aunt Holly to teach you how to score with the ladies. Or the guys, whatever makes you happy."

Steve sniggers but smiles proudly as his sister drops a delicate kiss on the baby's nose. She's so engaged in watching the sleeping boy that the sound of his phone snapping their picture escapes her.

"So," he says after a few minutes of watching his sister and son bond, "you must be pretty serious about Holly if you're planning to let her teach my kid how to romance."

Gail's quiet for a few moments, conflicting desires waging a desperate war inside her. The need to confide, to seek guidance from the man who has always had her back wins out over the instinct to withdraw, to isolate herself against the harsh unknown of the outside world.

When she speaks, it's so quiet that Steve has to bow his head to hear her.

"Holly will be a great mother someday," she says, unwilling to meet his eyes.

So this is a serious talk then. They haven't had one of these in years, but Steve still remembers how to sit still and quiet and let Gail slowly come to him.

He moves to sit on the floor, ready to listen.

There's a moment of silence before Gail continues.

"She will be, you know, she's so good with everyone. And I'm," Gail pauses to swallow against the lump of fear in her throat, "and I'm not. And I know that someday she wants this, you know? The partner and the kid and the whole damn future. But what, but what if I can't give it to her, Steve? I want to give it to her, I do. I want to be the person who gives her the future, but what if I try and I can't do it and I ruin not just my life but hers too? I don't care if I ruin my life, but I don't know what I'd do if I ruin hers too."

And there it is, there's the crux of the complicated puzzle that is Gail. Steve loves his parents, but sometimes, times like now, he could just shake them. Because the string at the end of the bubble of fear he can see fighting its way up in Gail's chest is firmly attached to their mother and her beliefs about what a Peck should be and what a Peck should do, and their father's inability to step in-between his wife's expectations and his little girl's heart.

"Hey," he says, putting his hands on her feet, hoping his touch will ground her, will be the foundation she so desperately needs in this moment. "Gail," and then again a little more forcefully, but still quiet in deference to the sleeping boy in his sister's arms, "Gail." It takes a moment, but she lifts her head to meet his eyes.

There are a lot of things he could say at this point. He could tell her that she won't ruin anything, but they both know that he can't promise that. He could tell her that Holly loves her and will love her no matter what, but she knows that already. He could even take their mother's route and tell her to buck up, that Pecks don't let themselves show fear, but he knows that's a lie in the same way he knows the feel of his son's tiny fingers against his palm.

Instead he sticks with what is simple and what is true.

"Gail," he says, "do you love her?"

"Yes."

There's no hesitation in her answer.

"Does she love you?"

Her answer is softer, but her voice is impossibly strong.

"Yes."

"What do you want, Gail?"

She looks confused for a minute or two, as if no one's ever asked her that question before.

Maybe no one has.

Gail brings her free hand up to smooth Ethan's unruly hair.

"I want Holly. I want to marry her and have kids with her. I want to be the person she loves, I want to be the person who is good enough for her." She stops, and the look on her face is wondrous. The hot ball under her ribcage is blossoming and she can feel its petals unfurl in every corner of her body. It's warm and sweet and feels like lazy Sunday mornings with Holly.

Gail laughs in awe. All the tension and anxiety that have been building since the moment Steve announced his impending fatherhood falls away. All the pressure she felt, all the confusion and angst. She knows now, she knows what she wants, knows that she wants it.

Steve wishes he could preserve the look on her face forever; she's completely open and she's beautiful.

"Steve," she says in a happy whisper, "I want Holly."

He looks up at her, and in the smile on his face she can see echoes of the man his son will grow into one day.

"Well, then, there you go." If he tells her that this isn't a surprise to anyone at all she'll just clam up. He learned long ago that it was best to let Gail think that she was a mystery to everyone. It made things so much easier.

She kicks her foot against his hand. "So," she starts, a hint of her childhood shyness in her voice, "I have a ring."

Now, this is news to him.

"Yeah," he says, "princess cut?"

This time she kicks harder. "It's our grandmother's. You know Holly, she wouldn't want some dumb ring from a store. And mom gave me the ring years ago after the funeral, she said gran wanted me to have it. And I thought you were going to propose to Traci when she got pregnant, so I figured that once that happened Holly would want to get married too and so I should have a ring. I don't know, it was stupid. Anyway, you never proposed to Traci and I started to think about what I'd do if Holly said no, so it's been sitting in my locker at the 15 for months now."

So that's where it all started, this unease he'd sensed growing in his sister.

"Okay, first off, Gail, you're an idiot. Holly isn't some dumb girl who will want a ring because her friend got one. You wouldn't love her if she was. And second, I did ask Traci to marry me. And she said no, so there."

Gail gapes at him.

"What? What happened?"

He can talk about it now, but for a week or two it had almost killed him. Even though he'd understood her reasons completely.

"She said she didn't want me to ask just because she was pregnant. I mean, I wasn't, I'd been thinking about it for a while but then when she told me she was pregnant I panicked and asked because I thought that's what you were supposed to do when you got your girlfriend pregnant. I meant it, and she's not free of the Peck legacy by a long shot. But when I ask her this time, I'm going to do it for the right reasons. Not because I'm having flashbacks to some lecture mom gave me back in high school about 'doing the right thing.'"

After all, Gail's not the only one who suffers from a childhood steeped firmly in ideas about "What a Peck Is."

His sister looks at him thoughtfully.

"So," she says slyly, "what you're saying is that I might beat you to the punch."

The serious part of their talk has clearly passed, and he's relieved to see a much calmer version of his sister sitting there, unconsciously rocking his son in her arms. But he's still her older brother, and so he can't let the discussion go without one more thing.

"No, Gail," he says, slowly rising from the floor, "what I'm saying is that when the moment is right? You'll know. And because you're a Peck and we Pecks are awesome—right, Ethan,-" he coos at his son as he lifts the sleeping boy from Gail's arms, "you'll be brave enough to take that step."

He'll end up keeping most of their conversation to himself, but later tonight, when he's in bed watching Traci feed their son, he'll tell her about the adorable little unconscious noise his sister made at the empty space where she'd been cradling Ethan, and how her hand followed the boy's head to his father's arms. She'll understand.

Steve moves to put Ethan down in the bassinet next to the bed and starts toward the door.

"Hey," Traci says, poking her head into the room, "There you guys are. Is he asleep? Perfect timing. Holly just called, she's going to pick up pizza on her way home from the lab. She'll be here by the time you're back from picking Leo up at soccer, Steve."

Steve nods and brushes a kiss over Traci's cheek before they head down the hallway, chattering about one thing or another.

Gail moves to follow, but pauses by the bassinet, letting her eyes linger on this sweet boy's face. She picks up the rabbit and tucks it near Ethan's feet.

When she draws the door closed behind her and heads to wait for her girlfriend and the promised pizza, her heart feels light and free for the first time in months.

Steve's right, they're Pecks.

They're gonna be just fine.