So, it's about time to name those babies! I've discovered, over years of reading/writing fanfiction that people get very involved in the issue of baby names and take them quite personally. In this story, rather than picking out my own favorites, I tried to stay in character with Patrick and Teresa. Based on the show I believe both of them would choose traditional names (and in Teresa's case probably something that tied in with her Catholic roots). Heller used Charlotte, Ann and Jane from the Bronte sisters, and also used quite a bit of Jane Austin in his approach to the characters and I used these factors in my decision making.
So – please don't hate me for the names I've chosen – again, I pondered quite a bit about what I thought they might choose (which wouldn't necessarily be my choice).
Teresa slowly drifted awake as the sunlight touched her face. She blinked her eyes open and stretched – the answering soreness bringing her back to the present. She smiled and took a sudden breath and turned her face towards the window.
Dawn had come and gone and the sunlight was streaming through the window. The light touched the hair of the man seated in the rocking chair in front of the window, causing it to glow as if surrounded by a halo.
She grinned at that. No one would ever accuse Patrick of being an angel. Slowly, however, her grin faded as she watched the man rock gently, each arm filled with a tiny, tightly swaddled bundle.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she gazed silently on the picture before her. Patrick's face was glowing – but it wasn't from the sunlight, but rather from some internal light. She had thought she had seen all his expressions – from anger and bitterness, to sorrow and grief, to happiness and joy. But this – she couldn't describe what she saw, all she knew was that the sight was one which would remain with her always.
He hadn't seen her – or noticed that she was awake, so she continued to watch quietly. Two heartbeats later she saw him lift one baby and give it a gentle kiss. He then followed with the other and a moment later began to speak.
"Hi babies," he said softly. "I'm your daddy. I know, I know – you probably could have done better, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me. And I promise to love you and to look after you always. I promise to keep you safe." He stopped there and again lifted each child and kissed it, as if sealing his promise.
"But you know what," he went on, "you're both very lucky, because you have the best mommy in the whole world. Yes, you're very, very lucky. You mommy is the most loving, kind, compassionate, strong woman you could ever hope to meet and she'll be the most amazing mother. So you see, even though you probably could have done better in the daddy department, you'll do just fine because you'll have her."
"You're wrong Patrick," Teresa said softly. At that he lifted his head, looking startled and slightly embarrassed at being caught. "You're wrong. They're the luckiest children in the world because you are their father. Don't ever think otherwise my love. You are an amazing man and their lives are going to be wonderful because of you."
"Because of us," he said finally, his voice rough with emotion.
"Because of us," she agreed. She smiled at him then. "You look cute sitting there."
"Cute?" He snorted and slowly stood up, careful not to disturb the sleeping babies. He walked over to her and cautiously sat on the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore, tired, wonderful. What time is it?"
"It's almost 9:30. Cho said the roads should be clear soon and the doctor is going to come and check you and the babies. The hospitals are swamped because of the storm so they'd rather you stay here unless there's a problem."
"Good. I don't want to go to the hospital," she said. "Should we call my family now?"
"I did," he grinned. "They'll all descend on us as soon as they can. Annie screamed."
"I'm assuming with happiness?"
"Oh yeah. She's already asked when she can babysit."
Teresa's brows went up. "Not for a while I'm afraid. I don't plan on leaving them for quite a while."
"I know. She can come over though and watch them while we're here. She's very excited."
"I'm glad. It's nice to have family close by."
"Mmm hmm. Sam is making a bunch of dinners for us. She's going to bring things over as soon as the road is cleared."
"Good. What about -"
"Yes, I've told the Rigsby's and Jason and Madeleine – and I called the Abbotts. Everyone knows and they all say congratulations. They'll come see us when we tell them we're ready."
"You were busy," she commented.
"Well, my whole family was sleeping," he grinned. "I had to do something."
She glanced down at her babies, itching to hold them but not wanting to ask. She knew how much this meant to Jane.
"Here," he carefully held out one baby, which she took gingerly.
"Hi baby girl," she crooned, instantly recognizing her daughter. "She's beautiful Patrick."
"Yes, she is," he nodded. "So is he," he said, glancing down at his son. "I can't believe -"
"What?" she looked up with a smile."
"That I'm a father again," he said softly. "I keep looking at them and – I'm – awed."
"But happy?"
"Oh yes, very, very happy," he replied, giving her the same smile he'd given her on the evening after their wedding.
They spent the next few moments looking at their children and simply allowing happiness to surround them. It wasn't long, however, before their son started to move and soon his eyes popped open and his face began to scrunch up.
"Hungry?" Jane said, looking down at the little boy with a grin. "I think he wants you mommy."
"Mmm hmm," she smiled. "Take her." She handed her their daughter and exchanged her for a red-faced boy. It took her a moment to get settled– this was very new after all – but soon he was nursing contentedly.
"How is it?
"Strange. A bit sore. I'm not sure if I'm doing it quite right but he seems to be happy so hopefully he's getting enough to eat."
"Mmm. Well we can get the lactation consultant to come over if you want." He looked down quickly at the suddenly squirming little body in his arms. "I think your daughter is getting hungry now too."
"Great," Teresa rolled her eyes. "They'll both want to eat at the same time."
"That's why you have two -"
"Don't say it Jane. Just be glad your nipples are useless or I'd make you feed one of them."
"Useless?" he laughed.
"Yes," she grinned. She shifted her son and a moment later his mouth popped off with a loud noise. His eyes were half shut and his little mouth was bowed with milk – or probably still colostrum - dripping from his lip. He looked completely and utterly sated and peaceful. "Here, I think he's finished."
"Good timing because this one is about to -" before he had a chance to finish, their little girl erupted in anguished cries. "So much for her being the quiet one," Patrick said as he handed her over. "I'm afraid she takes after you."
His wife didn't even grace his comment with a reply. Instead she switched the baby onto her other arm and pushed down her nightgown. "Here you go little one." It took longer to get their daughter latched on as she seemed to fight the nipple and continued to cry. Finally, when Teresa herself was about to start crying the little girl finally settled and began to suck madly. After only a few sucks, however, her mouth stopped and she appeared as if she had fallen asleep.
"What the heck?" Teresa asked, looking down at her. "You'd have thought we were starving her and after two or three sucks she goes to sleep."
"Wake her up," her husband suggested.
"How?" Teresa frowned at him.
"Take her out of her blanket. She's probably too warm and cozy."
"But she'll get cold."
"Cool, not cold – and it will wake her up. Try it."
Teresa frowned – or pouted, although Jane wouldn't actually say that to her, and watched as she slowly unwrapped the blanket from around the baby. Soon she was lying against Teresa dressed only in her tiny diaper.
"You're sure she won't get too cold?"
"Teresa, it's warm in here and she's getting heat from your body. This is just to wake her up and get her eating."
"Okay," she frowned and looked down at the little girl. "It's not working."
"Tickle her feet."
"What?"
Patrick sighed and reached over and gently tickled the baby's foot. She jerked it up and let out a soft mew. He tried it again and she began to wriggle. The third time and she opened her eyes and squirmed – and in a moment looked as if she was going to cry. Teresa quickly presented her nipple and with only a bit of squirming the baby latched on.
She continued to suck a few times and then begin to doze off, so it became Patrick's duty to keep tickling her toes to keep her awake. At one point she squawked loudly, letting her father know she didn't like it, but all he did was grin. Eventually she seemed to have enough to eat and pulled off the breast. She gazed blearily at her parents, her eyes wide open.
"So now she's awake," her frustrated mother said. "She definitely takes after you. She never does anything the easy way."
He just grinned at her, enjoying watching her as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. It had been a long time since Charlotte was a baby, but he was remembering some of the things they'd gone through as new parents.
"I think he takes after me," he said gently jiggling the sleeping baby in his arms.
"Why?"
"He can sleep through anything," he said. "See, he slept through all of this."
"Mmm – true. And he took to the breast really well. Definitely like you."
This caused him to grin again and then he took a deep breath and stood up. "You must be hungry. I'll fix you some breakfast."
"Oh yes please. Can I have pancakes?"
"You want me to make you pancakes after being awake all night helping deliver two babies."
"Yes please," she grinned.
"Okay fine," he sighed dramatically. "Here, take this munchkin," he laid his son down on the bed. "We really have to give them names you know."
"I know," she nodded. "After breakfast we'll decide."
"Really?" he asked hopefully. "You mean we're actually going to agree on names?"
"Well, I think we have to unless we want to refer to our children as Baby 1 and Baby 2 for the rest of their lives."
"So, I'd better make really good pancakes, and then you'll be more likely to agree on one of my choices."
"Maybe," she nodded, although the look on her face suggested it wasn't going to be as easy as that.
Jane made his way to their kitchen, a huge smile on his face. He wanted to smile and to laugh – the happiness inside him wanted to burst out. He had a wife and two children – a family – something he'd thought he'd lost for good.
As he whipped up the batter for the pancakes he stopped briefly. "Angie – I'm happy again," he said softly. He smiled then, knowing that today was a day to celebrate his new family, not to mourn his old one.
"Here you go," he said, handing his wife the plate after he'd settled the babies on the bed beside her. "Pancakes."
"Jane, you made me Mickey Mouse pancakes," she said, with a tender look on her face.
"Of course – you make me happy so I wanted to return the favor."
"You're sweet," she leaned forward and kissed him. She then tore into the pancakes as if she hadn't eaten for a month.
"You have no idea," she said around a big bite, "how wonderful it is to be able to have room to actually eat something. Mmm, these are so good."
"Thank you," he laughed at her after she'd eaten the fifth pancake. "I'm glad you enjoy them. So, now that you're done – I assume you're done?"
She eyed the platter with more pancakes but then finally groaned. "Yes, I'm done. I may have some later though. They were amazing."
"I'm happy to make you whatever you want Teresa. Just let me know."
"Oh, I will," she told him. "If I have to feed your babies then you have to feed me!"
"It's a deal," he told her. "Now," he said, taking away her plate and setting it down on the dresser. "Names."
Picking names for the babies had been a running battle for months. It had been a light-hearted battle though and something both of them enjoyed. It had only been allowed to go on for so long because they had enjoyed it. Because they hadn't found out the sex of the babies beforehand, they'd been forced to try and pick two girl and two boy names, in case they'd had two of each. Now they only had to agree on one if eacg – and stick to their decision It had turned out that they had somewhat different likes and dislikes when it came to names, although fortunately both of them seemed to prefer more old-fashioned names to modern ones.
Teresa soon discovered that not having a one syllable last name also cut down on their choices. They just didn't work with Jane so they tossed out any of those. After that it was an exercise in going through multiple books and on-line sources for names and eliminating most of them.
"We could name him Patrick?" Teresa said, looking at her son. "I mean, it's nice to name a boy after his father."
"Uh uh," he shook his head. "I'd rather him have his own name."
"Well then how about Liam? It's Irish and will go with Jane."
"Too common. Everyone's naming their kid that now."
"Declan?"
"Too different."
"Callum?"
"What is it with you and Irish names?" he asked her.
"I like Irish names – and they go well with Jane."
"Well let's try something that's not Irish."
"Okay – Harrison?"
"Harrison?"
"Well, he's one of my favorite actors."
"Fine – but I'm not naming our son after him. How about Rudolph?"
"Rudolph?" she said, sounding as if she'd eaten something rotten.
"Well, he was a famous actor too – Rudolph Valentino."
"Yes, and he was also a reindeer! No. In fact, how about we say no actor's names – or reindeer names."
"Fine. Then how about William?"
"William, as in Conquerer?"
"Or as in Prince."
"Mmm – I don't think so. How about Dylan?" Teresa asked.
"What is it with you and Irish names? Any anyway, that makes me think of Dylan Thomas – and no."
"Oh – right. So what else do you have?"
"Michael?" Jane threw out.
There was a pause and Jane looked at his wife, a question on his face. "Teresa?"
"Yeah?"
"Michael?"
"I think I like it. I mean, it's pretty traditional -"
"I like traditional."
"Mmm – and it was my grandfather's name."
"Really? I didn't know that."
"He died after I finished college. We were close."
"He was the one who gave you the car?"
"Mmm hmm. And it's a good Catholic name," Teresa looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"It is," he nodded with a grin.
"And it's often used in Ireland."
"Yes, it is."
"So – Michael," she nodded. "Let's go for it."
"Michael it is." Jane looked down at his son, who was wide-awake and wiggling. "Hi Michael," he said softly. "How are you my son?"
"Jane?"
"What?" he looked up and smiled.
"I'd like to use Patrick as his middle name," she said.
He considered her for a moment but then finally nodded, a crooked smile gracing his mouth. "Okay, if you insist although I think you could do better than that."
"I thought we established a long time ago that I couldn't do better than Patrick."
He chuckled at that. "Flatterer!"
"So Michael Patrick Jane," she grinned. "Our son."
Jane leaned forward and kissed her and then picked up his son and gave him a kiss and passed him to Teresa. "Here you go – Mikey."
"Never! – Michael!"
"Alright – now how about this little one?" He picked up their daughter, who was just starting to wake up. "Teresa?"
"Are you asking me what I'd like or suggesting we name her Teresa? Because if it's the latter – no way."
He shrugged. "I thought I'd try. You did suggest Patrick."
"How about Leah?" She asked.
"Pretty, but I don't think she's a Leah. Elizabeth?"
"No – too - regal. Caitlin?"
"Too modern. What was your grandmother's name?"
"Mildred," she grimaced.
"So, not your grandmother's name."
"What about naming her after your mother?" she asked softly.
"Anne?"
"Yes, it's simple and nice."
"Anne Jane sounds a bit short. And anyway, half the girls in your family are named Anne or Annie."
"My mother's name as well," she smiled. "It would be fitting since both our mother's had the same name."
"Yes – how about for her middle name?"
"Okay, that sounds good. Any other ideas?"
"Emily?" he asked softly.
She considered it a moment. "It's pretty. Emily Jane?"
"Simple," he said. "Maybe too simple?"
"No, I like it."
"So, Emily Anne Jane?"
"Well, I was thinking something a little different," she confessed softly. "But if you don't like it, just say so, okay?"
"Okay," he nodded, watching her closely.
She took a deep breath. "How about Emily Charlotte Anne Jane?"
He blinked a couple of times and then looked down at his daughter. He could see the resemblance, of course he could, although he'd tried not to think about it too closely. But to give her Charlotte's name? Would that be fair to this little one? Would it make it harder for him? He wasn't sure.
"We don't have to," the woman he loved with all his soul said and she reached out and put her hand on his. "I just thought it would be nice to give her something special – so that she grows up knowing she had an older sister. I kind of saw it as a way of – keeping Charlotte here with us through her."
Jane could feel his throat tighten and he had trouble swallowing. He lifted his daughter – Emily – up to his face and breathed in her soft, innocent scent. Emily Charlotte Anne – his daughter – and his connection to his oldest daughter and to his mother – and to Teresa's mother. He could feel the tears gather in his eyes and even though he tried, one escaped down his cheek.
He finally looked up at Teresa and thought again how lucky he was that she loved him. "Thank you," he said softly. "I – it's beautiful."
"So – Emily and Michael?" she smiled, her own eyes teary with emotion. "We finally did it."
"We did," he nodded with an answering smile. He leaned forward again and kissed her. "We're a family."
So Emily is from Emily Bronte – from the three Bronte sisters Charlotte, Anne and Emily. Michael – well it is a good Catholic name, common in Ireland and seems to go well with Jane.
I plan to do one more chapter to this story (a bit of an epilogue) and then will leave it for a while. If people want I may do some additional chapters, or short stories, on life with Emily and Michael.