I followed Brian out, as the elevator doors opened, and we walked outside to the parking lot. There were

a lot of stars lighting up the sky tonight, and a decided nip in the California air. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, and

looked backwards to see Evan coming out of the hospital doors.

Brian went to the passenger side of Evan's truck, and opened it, ushering me in.

"Here comes Evan," I said.

"Yep," Brian said, barely looking towards where I was pointing.

As I settled into the middle of the seat, and Brian got in beside me, slamming the door,

I spoke up quietly. "Can we talk later? Do we have to do it in front of Evan?"

Brian leaned forward and untucked his shirt. "Since when is it a big secret that we have

a talk?"

"It's just-embarrassing," I told him. "I don't want Evan to hear you yell at me."

"I wasn't plannin' on yelling at you," he said. "But I guess I can."

"You know what I mean," I said.

When Brian didn't say anything, and I could see that Evan was almost to the truck,

I said, quickly, "I said I was sorry for being so dramatic about having to go home to

do the shot."

"I know you did. That's not what I want to talk to you about."

"Well, what then?" I asked him.

Brian gestured towards Evan, opening his door, and said, "We'll wait."

Well, then, feeling cantankerous, I changed my mind, and didn't want to wait. Let him get onto me in front of Evan.

It wouldn't be the first time. Or probably the last one, either.

"It's okay," I told Brian, in an effort to get him to say whatever it was.

Evan slid into the driver's seat and started the truck. And even though I kept looking at Brian, hoping he

would get the message without me saying anything, he just started talking to Evan about ranch stuff. I wanted to

jump into the conversation, and interrupt, and tell him to just get his lecture over with.

But I didn't want to irritate him any more than he was already. So I kept my mouth shut.

When we got home, Brian told us to wait while he went inside to switch on the porch light.

"We don't need anybody breaking their necks tonight," he said.

As soon as the porch light came on, I ran up the porch stairs, and went to the kitchen, turning on the lights. I got out

my shot supplies, and did it quickly. So quickly, in fact, that it hurt.

"Owww," I said, and couldn't help a little yelp of pain. "Bat shit!"

I hadn't known Brian was behind me in the kitchen, until I heard him running water at the sink, and I turned quickly.

"Nice language," he said mildly, filling the coffee pot with water.

"It hasn't hurt like that in awhile," I said, starting to pick things up. "It just slipped out."

"You do it too fast?" he asked, guessing correctly.

"Yeah," I admitted, wishing I could rub my arm, where I'd given the shot. Clare says I'm not supposed to do that, though, because it

can cause problems.

"I thought you'd come to terms with havin' diabetes," Brian said, and I looked at him in surprise, watching

as he spooned coffee into the top of the coffee pot.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Brian switched on the coffee pot, and turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms.

"Your comment earlier, about it ruining your whole life?" he prompted me.

"Oh." I hesitated a moment. That must be what he'd meant, about us needing to talk about something.

"I know it was a dumb thing to say," I said. I wrinkled my forehead in thought, trying to figure out why Brian

thought it was a big enough deal to lecture me about it.

"I don't like to hear you say things like that," Brian said, with a frown.

"I'm sorry," I began, but Brian interrupted me, sounding impatient,

"I don't want an apology. I want to know why you feel that way."

"Well," I hesitated again. "I don't mean that it's ruined my life, exactly. It's just a big pain, and sometimes it's

overwhelming."

"I understand that," Brian said.

"Yeah?" I asked, looking at him hopefully.

"Yeah. And I know it's tough to deal with. But I don't see that it's ruined your life. You're takin' classes, and

working for Doc, and doing all the things you've always done."

"I guess I was just exaggerating,," I admitted. "Being dramatic. You know." I shrugged, and gave him a

concilatary look.

"I don't like to think you're going to be one of those females."

"What kind of female?" I asked him, confused.

"Always sayin' something to get attention, making things into somethin' that they're not."

"I don't do that," I protested. Then, "Do I?"

"No, not usually."

Brian's facial expression softened a little. "You've always been a straight shooter, Harlie. People can understand

that, respect it. If you start saying things like you did tonight, it can become a habit. After that, it's easier and easier

to be less honest and straightforward."

I felt a little subdued. "Okay," I said. "I'll try not to do it anymore."

Brian surveyed me seriously for a moment. "Comere," he said, motioning to me.

I walked over to him. He lifted the end of my braid in his fingers, swinging it back and forth a little.

"That's it," he said. "End of lecture."

"Okay," I said again, and wrapped my arms around his waist. He hugged me back.

"Better get some snacks to take with you," he told me, and I nodded, grabbing several apples and a box of

Ritz crackers from the cabinet, and stuffing them into a backpack hanging on a hook by the back door.

I went in search of Evan, and found him sitting on the couch, his feet propped up, and his eyes closed.

I gave him a light poke on the arm. "Ev, will you take me back now?"

Evan groaned, not opening his eyes.

"Ev, please."

Evan sighed, and opened his eyes. "You're brutal," he accused. "I've been up since five this morning."

"I'm sorry. I know you're tired. But if you take me now, then you can come right home and go to sleep."

"Here," Brian said, coming up behind me and handing Evan a cup of steaming coffee. "Drink that. I don't want

you falling asleep on the drive home. Turn up the radio, too."

Evan nodded, and took the cup, drinking it in a couple of gulps.

"Let's go, shortcake," he told me, and we left, with me promising Brian that I, or Crane, or somebody, would call

him and Evan with updates about the baby.

"Just call when Scooter's here, with his fingers and toes all counted," Brian said. "I'll sleep down here on the couch so I can hear the phone."

"Okay. You're still sure the baby's a boy, huh?"

"Not a doubt in my mind," Brian said, and told Evan to drive safely as we went outside in the cool night air.

"What time is it?" I asked, realizing that I had no idea.

"It was almost 11:30 when we were comin' out," Evan told me, as we pulled out onto the road.

"Thirty more minutes, and then the baby's birthday will be tomorrow," I said thoughtfully.

"Yep."

When we got back to the hospital, I got out and came around to Evan's side.

"I can go up by myself," I told him. "You can head home to bed."

"I will, after I walk you up."

"You're tired, though."

"Yeah. But I'm not gonna let you walk across the parking lot in the dark."

I didn't argue anymore, because I knew there was no use to it. Besides, it was a little creepy walking across that

dark parking lot. There was only a couple of lights, and they weren't very bright.

It seemed like it took forever for the elevator to get to the fifth floor.

The McFaddens were a tired looking group, spread out in the waiting room. Crane was reading a newspaper, and Ford and

Guthrie were watching the overhead television. Daniel was stretched out on a couch, actually looking like he was asleep.

"Any news?" I asked Crane anxiously.

"Progress. Steady, but slow."

"Is she getting close to delivery, though?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's been an hour since Adam came out with an update."

"Okay." I sat down next to him. "At least I made it back in time."

"I'm gonna head on," Evan said.

"Okay." Crane put the newspaper down, and stood up, stretching. "Get a cup of coffee," he told Evan.

"Brian gave me some. I'm alright to drive," Evan told him.

Daniel stirred on the couch, sitting up. "I think I'll head home with Evan," he said. "Hannah will be too tired

for all of us tonight. I'll come back in the mornin' after chores to see the baby."

"Okay," Crane said, with a nod.

"You stayin', Ford?" Evan asked.

"Yeah. I'd like to stay."

"Okay. We'll see you all in the mornin'," Daniel said, and he and Evan ambled off towards the elevators.

"Want an apple?" I asked Crane, shrugging off my backpack. "I brought several."

"No thanks, peanut. I think I'm going to walk around for a bit."

I lugged my backpack over to where Ford and Guthrie were sitting, immersed in an old rerun of The Munsters.

I settled in between them on the couch, and started watching with them, wordlessly offering them each an apple.

So we munched our apples, and watched that episode, and then another one that followed. Crane came back, carrying

a cup of coffee.

"I wish Adam or Clare would come out and tell us what's going on," I sighed.

"Adam's concerned with Hannah," Ford said. "That's more important."

"I know," I said, giving him an eyeroll.

When an episode of 21 Jump Street came on, I got up to go throw my apple core away. I went to the double doors,

and stood on my tiptoes, peering thru the window at the top. I was wishing mightily that I could make Adam or Clare

appear, when Crane came up behind me, tossing his cup into the trash can.

"Come and sit down," he told me.

"I'm tired of sitting."

"Well, then, come away from the doors. If somebody needs to come in or out in a hurry, you'll be in the way."

I sighed, and went to look out the windows at all the lights of the city.

After a few minutes, I heard Crane call me, and I went back to see Clare coming out of the doors, and Guthrie and

Ford getting to their feet to greet her.

"They're taking her to delivery," she said, and I felt my heart pounding in excitement.

"How is she?" Crane asked.

"She's tired, but she's holding up alright."

"You look like you're about to fall over in exhaustion," Crane told her.

"I'm alright," Clare assured him, but Crane took charge, sending Guthrie down to the cafeteria for some food for Clare,

and telling her to sit down.

"Want some water?" I asked her. "Or a Coke or something?"

"A Coke sounds like heaven right now," she said, and I went to the vending machine, pulling change out of the pocket

of my jeans.

Clare drank the Coke, and ate the hamburger and fries that Guthrie brought back.

"I'll bet Adam's starved," Guthrie commented.

"No doubt he is," Clare agreed.

When she was done eating, she looked at her watch. "I guess it's too late to call Brian and tell him goodnight," she

said, and Guthrie and I exchanged grins. Six months married, and they still acted like newlyweds.

"He said he was going to sleep on the couch so he could hear the phone," I told her.

So we sat. And we waited. And waited some more. I was sitting next to Clare, and we all jumped up when Adam finally

came through the double doors, still wearing a white hospital gown over his jeans and t-shirt.

He looked tired. Beyond tired. He looked exhausted. But his eyes were lit up like the Fourth of July.

"Eight pounds, two ounces," he said, his voice full of pride. "It's a boy."

7777777

I started squealing, and jumping up and down. Adam was swamped with back slapping, and hugs.

"Congratulations, brother," Crane said, and hugged Adam.

"Thanks," Adam said, and I launched myself into his arms.

Guthrie and Ford both took their turn giving hugs of congratulations, and then we all stood there, in a tight

circle, grinning like fools.

Adam reached out to squeeze Clare's hand. "Thanks for everything you did back there."

Clare gave him a side hug. "You're welcome. I was just glad to be a part of everything. How is she?"

"She's good. Real tired, but good," Adam said.

"And the baby?" Ford asked. "He's alright? He's healthy?"

"He's perfect," Adam said, his voice cracking in emotion.

Crane wrapped an arm around Adam's neck, in support.

"Can we see the baby?" I asked the question that we all wanted to know.

"They're goin' to be bringing him to the room once they get Hannah settled in. The nurse said she'd tell you when

you could come."

"I'll go call Brian," Clare said, and went down the hall towards the pay phone.

Adam disappeared again, heading to the room, and we waited some more, until finally a no nonsense nurse

came out to get us.

"Only a few minutes," she warned. "Mrs. McFadden needs to rest."

When we were allowed into Hannah's room, Hannah was sitting up in the bed, propped up by pillows. Her face

was lit up with her smile, and she held the baby in her arms.

"Come here, you three," she said to Guthrie, Ford and I.

We came closer and Hannah lifted the blue blanket to reveal the baby, wide-eyed, and with a full head of

dark hair. He was, without question, the most beautiful baby I've ever seen in my life.

"Wow," Guthrie said, low, in awe.

"His hair is incredible," I said.

"You can touch him," Hannah told us, and Ford touched one tiny finger, grinning as it latched around his own

finger.

Crane crowded closer to take his own look. "That's a fine looking baby," he said.

Adam and Hannah have been reticent about the baby's name the whole time, discussing names but never really

deciding on one. The baby had been Ivan Iggy for so long, as a family joke.

"What are you going to name him?" I asked.

Hannah and Adam exchanged a look.

"We're going to name him Isaac Joseph," Hannah said.

"I like it," Ford said, still letting the baby hang onto his finger.

"Here, Ford," Hannah said, lifting the baby a little. "You can hold him."

Ford took the baby gingerly, gently, and held him. "I feel like I'm gonna break him," he said, nervously.

Hannah laughed a little. "You're doing fine," she said.

"Let me and Har have a turn," Guthrie said, impatiently.

"Keep your shirt on," Ford told him, and passed the baby to Guthrie. "Hold his head," Ford added.

"I know how to do it," Guthrie said, and as he held the baby, swaying back and forth slowly, I crowded as

close as I could to his side, holding the baby's hand.

"My turn," I said, when I couldn't stand waiting a minute longer.

When I finally had him in my arms, I watched his little face, and he looked right at me. His eyes were a little

unfocused, maybe, but they were still looking at me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Hello, Isaac Joseph McFadden," I whispered. "Welcome to the world."

7