THE SECOND DONOVAN BABY COMETH

Donovan sat at his desk in a worried daze.  He had left home [stupidly] and came in to work despite Loralei's condition.  I must be fricking nuts, he thought as he propped his chin onto his hand.  Since very early this morning, Loralei was experiencing what he thought might be signs of early labor.  She insisted she was fine and sent him on his way.  As he sat and stared straight ahead, he didn't understand what had made him allow her to do that.  It wasn't like he'd get any work done, now would he?  Nope.  He'd simply sit behind his desk brooding and worrying.  As if he were a panicked new father, he called home every twenty minutes and received the same answers:  Yes, Frank, I'm fine.  No, Frank, the pains haven't come any closer.  No, Frank, you don't need to come home.  He often wondered who was more stubborn, him or her.  Half a dozen times, he had been tempted to ignore her insistence that was she fine.  He felt he needed to be at home.  Of course, he couldn't get Rachel's unexpectedly early birth off his mind.  But then again, the pregnancy with the new kid was a little different.  In fact, Loralei was a bit overdue.  If he went home now, Loralei might throttle him.  He didn't want to be tied down at work if something did happen today.  He knew that at any time, a case could come in that couldn't be ignored.  What if he couldn't get away?  What if he left her and the baby came while he was gone?  What if, what if, what if.  It was a simple two-word sentence and he absolutely hated it.  As if working through some mental alarm system, he grabbed up the phone and called home again.  His wife, exasperated, answered the phone.  She was on the same timer, in fact, and knew exactly who it was.  Again, he heard the same things that he had been hearing all morning.

"If you call again," she began, playful menace in her voice, "I'm going to come down there and kick your ass…if I can get my leg up that high."

He smiled a little before sighing.  "I'm sorry, but I'm worried.  How close are they now?"

"They're still far enough apart that it's going to be a while, that I promise you.  Probably by the time you get home this evening, it'll be show time."

"Loralei, I want…"

She cut him off.  "Goodbye Mr. Fretter."

He sighed again.  Perhaps he was making a huge nuisance of himself.  "Okay, baby," he said.  "I love you."

"Me too."

Loralei hung up the phone and sat back with an exasperated sigh.  She had been sighing like that every twenty minutes since Donovan left.  He was definitely treading on thin ice.  However, she couldn't really be angry with him.  Since Rachel had come to them under less than ideal circumstances, her husband was paranoid.  During a quiet moment [Rachel was conked out beside her], Loralei stretched out onto the bed, lying on her side.  Ugh.  She missed sleeping any way she wanted.  She absently began stroking her abdomen.  The contractions had begun early this morning before Donovan left, but they were so far apart, it would take hours and hours.  Yet, a little nudge kept telling her that it would be different with the new kid.  After all, she had already gone through this labor thing once, hadn't she?  Oh, thank you, Frank, your paranoia has spread.  In the back of her mind, for a very brief moment, she was tempted to call her husband and swallow her pride.  Honestly and truly, she wanted him with her, but she held her tongue.  You're such a dope. 

Loralei decided she'd wait for another hour or so, and then call upon her sitters, Kara and Farron.  They were so sweet to lay in wait for her.  She knew both of them had jobs and didn't really have time to mess around with Rachel.  However, both of them had literally jumped at the chance to do this for her and Donovan.  It appeared that both of them were nuts about their niece.  Their niece?  Oh ho.  Where had that come from?  They weren't married yet, or even engaged for that matter.  Yet, Kara was the closest thing Farron had had for a wife since she had known him.  She knew from conversations with Donovan that Farron had been one of those men who were like bees sampling nectar from various flowers.  He had never grown tired of dipping his wick into many, many wells.  She recalled the day Donovan had come home from having a casual get together with his brother.  At that time, she had known he was going to give Farron a stiff 'wake up man' kind of thing.  However, some time had passed and the relationship was still where it had been for a few months.  Okay, so I'm sappy assed romantic.  She couldn't help it.  She liked seeing other people together and happy.  She liked playing interference even when she knew it was none of her damned business.  She wouldn't doubt that a day would come when someone gave her what for, five, and six. 

But then, she was as proud of Farron as her husband.  When she had first gotten acquainted with him, he struck her as a sleaze.  Her opinion hadn't changed one iota after her encounter with him in Florida.  Yet, he had slowly and carefully begun to redeem himself bit by painstaking bit.  Although he had had to attack her husband to get away with it, he had removed her safely from harm and shuffled her to Anya's home.  He had basically swept her away to safety.  After that, he had saved his brother from the hands of death.  If that weren't enough, he showed up at the right moment to get her to the hospital when Rachel decided to make her early appearance.  He had grown, he had changed, and he was continually working on getting even better.  When Farron showed up on their doorstep so many, many months ago, she had never thought then that her husband would come to love and trust him again, but he did.  Now, Farron had Kara.  Would they marry?  Would they ever marry?  She was tempted to mediate between them and prod one of them to ask.  For Pete's sake, get it over with already! 

Loralei giggled a little and the giggle turned into a gasp.  Oh shit, another ripple.  Actually, this one was a bit more than a ripple.  She glanced over at the bedside clock and noticed that ten minutes had passed between pains.  After half a minute, the pain went away and she released a sigh.  Still not too bad.  She had a long way to go.  Yet, she was closer to making the call to Kara and Farron.  It might be show time sooner than she thought.  Struggling a little, she sat up and glanced over at her sleeping daughter.  Uncharacteristically for her, she was still passed out.  She picked herself up off the bed and made moves to pack up some of Rachel's stuff.  Hopefully, her daughter would stay out until she finished.  Ten minutes later, another pain seized her.  She had just come back into the bedroom with Rachel's stuff.  Dear Jesus.  Ten minutes apart.  Okay, don't panic.  You still have hours and hours and hours.  She put the few bags she had into a chair sitting close to the door.  She went back over to the bed and grabbed the phone.  Time to call Rachel's uncle and auntie. 

"Hello?"  Farron answered the phone, slightly out of breath, on the third ring.  He and Kara had been 'wrestling' on the couch and both had struggled to get to the phone.  He reached it first.

"Damn.  You're panting and I'm the one in labor!"

"Loralei," he responded worriedly and gave Kara a gentle poke to get her attention.  "Are you okay?"

"I'm doing fine.  But now would be a good time to pick up Rachel."

"We're on the way," he exclaimed and cradled the phone.  "It's baby time, love."

*  *  *

Loralei was sitting on the side of the bed, taking deep breaths.  The contractions were steady and growing progressively longer and more painful.  Oh yeah.  Show time was almost upon them.  She noticed that Farron and Kara were hovering over her.  Farron had taken Rachel to her room, because the sight of her mother in such distress was upsetting her.  "It's okay, you know," Loralei said to them both.  "I'm going to be fine.  You can go back home.  I'll call Frank."

Farron shook his head.  "Uh uh, sister in-law.  You call Frank, and we'll stay right here.  I wouldn't want a repeat of what happened with Rachel."

She smiled a little.  "Neither do I.  Perhaps you're right."  She reached over and grabbed the phone, hoping that the next contraction would wait until she was off the phone before it seized her.  She hit a button [speed dial was such a wonderful invention] and waited.  A thought struck her [good going, Loralei]:  what if Donovan was gone?  Oh great.  Oh how lovely.  You should have let him stay home when he wanted.  After three rings, she was graced with her husband's brusque greeting:  'Donovan.'  "Frank?  Guess what?  Show time is upon us."  She heard him catch his breath for a moment, wanting to panic, but controlling it with everything he had in him.

"I'll be there as soon as possible," he said.  "Did you call-"

"Did it already.  They're hovering over me as we speak."

While Kara stood watch over Rachel, Farron assisted Loralei downstairs to await Donovan's arrival.  He knew his brother well enough to know that once he came home, he wouldn't dawdle.  Even though he knew Loralei had to be uncomfortable and in pain, she held onto her senses bravely.  She was basically putting up a front.  She wouldn't have anyone worrying about her.  He watched Loralei carefully and found himself wishing it were Kara he was worrying about.  His Shel heavy with his child; the thought was mind-boggling.  At the same time, it was his own consciousness nudging him.  You'll never get to this point if you don't take the next step, you moron!

Both Farron and Loralei looked up when they heard a car approaching.  A few moments later, Donovan came into the house.  He fixed his eyes on his wife the instant he stepped onto the hardwood floor.  His look said:  'I told you so.'  "Loralei?"

She gazed up at her husband.  "Don't start on me," she said.  "I was wrong.  You were right.  Now, fucking help me up and get me to the hospital before I have this baby right here on the couch."

After Donovan had whisked Loralei away to the hospital, Farron made his way back upstairs to Rachel's room.  Kara was pacing the floor with a fussy Rachel in her arms.  Although she was far too young to understand what was happening, the little girl knew something was up.  

Rachel caught sight of Farron and held out her arms.  He wasn't her daddy, but her uncle had a similar quality to him.  Under duress, that similarity was a comfort to her.

Kara gave Rachel over to Farron and was amazed when she quieted almost immediately.  He held her to his shoulder and patted her back softly while telling her everything was going to be all right.  Within minutes, he had lulled her to sleep.  "You're very good with her," Kara whispered as he settled her in her crib.

"She's a good baby," he answered softly while he lovingly watched Rachel sleep. 

When Farron turned to her suddenly, Kara thought for a moment that he was about to ask her something.  He had that look, that look of a man who has something weighing heavily on his mind, but just can't find the right words to express himself.  Just as suddenly, he turned back to the crib, whispered a goodnight to Rachel, and left the room. 

Kara found him a few moments later, lounging on the living room couch.  He seemed preoccupied and she longed to know what was on his mind.  "Is something wrong, baby?"

I'm a coward.  A Goddamn coward.  That's all that's wrong, love.  He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her when she snuggled against him.  "Nothing's wrong.  What could be wrong?  Another Donovan is about to make his or her entrance into the world." 

"Yes, it's a wonderful thing," she agreed.  "You just looked as though you had the weight of the world on your shoulders."  She kissed him tenderly as she threaded her fingers through his hair. 

"No, everything's fine, love," he assured her.  He kicked himself mentally, wishing his doubts and fear of rejection would stop nagging him.  He had come close, so very close to asking her on several different occasions, the most recent in Rachel's room.  Each time, the thought that she would refuse him crept into his thoughts, causing him to hold back.

*  *  *

It was right at midnight when the phone rang.  Both Farron and Kara were asleep on the couch, and when the ringing began, Farron thought he might be dreaming.  He moved carefully.  Kara was pretty much wrapped around him, and he had no intention of disturbing her unless he had to.  He reached over and grabbed the phone.  "Hello," he said, his voice foggy with sleep.  He wasn't altogether sure if he were awake or dreaming.

"Farron?  It's Frank," Donovan said.

His sleepy brain almost forced him to ask, "Frank who?"  Your brother, dumb ass.  When the realization hit, he woke up.  Oh, of course.  His brother was at the hospital with his pregnant wife.  Had something happened?  "Frank?  How's Loralei?"  He had received a call from his brother five or so hours ago.  At that point, nothing much had happened.  "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said, "she's fine, but resting now.  We have a son.  He was born about an hour ago."

Farron smiled a little.  Although he couldn't see his brother, he could hear the emotion coming through.  His strong, stoic brother sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.  He had heard and seen his brother like this before, of course, with Rachel.  "That's wonderful, Frank.  Kara and I will bring Rachel tomorrow.  Congratulations, my brother, I love you."

"Thank you, Farron.  I love you, too."

"Farron?"  Kara yawned.  He lay next to her staring off in his own little world with a stunned look on his face.  "Was that Frank on the phone?"  When he didn't respond, she nudged him gently.  "Farron?"

"He...yes.  Frank.  They had a son," he finally stammered, still staring off into space.

"That's wonderful," she exclaimed and gave him a firm hug.  "Farron?"

"I..."  He looked down and locked eyes with her.  "He...said he loves me." 

Kara held him tenderly when he buried his face into her hair.   She knew what this meant for him; he had finally gained acceptance and love from his twin.  They were regaining that bond Farron hoped to achieve.  One he would never dare betray again as long as he lived.  "I'm so happy for you...both of you," she whispered into his ear.  "Darling Farron..."

*  *  *

When Farron, Kara, and Rachel entered the room, they noticed that Loralei was wide-awake with her new son in her arms.  Donovan was propped on the edge of the bed.  The two of them were a bit oblivious to outside stimuli, of course, but Rachel's excited cry at the sight of her parents drew their attention.  Both Donovan and Loralei looked up at their guests with smiles on their faces.

"Would you like to meet your new nephew," Loralei asked as she looked at Farron before glancing at Kara.

"Yes," Kara and Farron answered at nearly the same time. 

Farron handed Rachel over to his brother.  She was squirming like crazy.  She hadn't seen her mother and father a full twenty-four hours.  Donovan took his daughter and sat her on his lap.  She was gazing curiously at the tiny bundle in her mother's arms. 

Rachel pointed her finger toward the bundle and goggled up at her father's face.  "Dat?"

"That's your brother, Rachel," Donovan said.

Loralei looked at her daughter and smiled.  She leaned over and kissed her cheek and then gave her husband a kiss.  When she broke away, she glanced over at Farron.  "Would you like to hold your nephew?"

He wanted to, of course, but he had that irrational fear that he might drop him.  He went around to the side of the bed closest to Loralei.  "O-okay," he said nervously.  He hadn't handled Rachel much when she was this tiny.

"Farron Donovan, I'd like you to meet your nephew, Tristan Colin Donovan."

*  *  *

Farron gazed down into Kara's eyes.  They were both panting and exhausted from making love.  He didn't want to move; he wasn't ready to disconnect from her.  There was no better feeling than being joined with her, together as one.  Propping himself up on his elbows, he caressed her cheek softly while he reached under his pillow with his free hand. 

Every night he went through the same scenario.  He would remove the little black velvet box from its hidey-hole between the mattresses and place it under his pillow.  Every night he would chicken out and put it back.  In the back of his mind, he heard his alter-ego scream at him.  Mateo.  How long had it been since Mateo had entered his thoughts?  He had no more use for Mateo; however, there was one thing Mateo had that Farron lacked.  Things came easily to Mateo; he never backed down and went after whatever he wanted.  His actions hidden beneath the pillow, Farron opened the little box and slipped the ring onto the tip of his forefinger.

"Te amo [I love you], Kara," he spoke softly, all the while feeling as though he were drowning in her brilliant blue eyes.  He took a breath for courage, not realizing he was speaking Spanish.  Perhaps he was leaning a bit on Mateo for this endeavor.  "¿Me casará usted? [Will you marry me?]"

Kara couldn't tear her eyes from his while she tried to translate what he had just said.  Her hands roamed his back in a tender caress; it hadn't escaped her that he was still buried deep inside her.  What had he said?  I love you, Kara.  She knew that much, but the rest?  She had no idea.  Why the hell did I study French in college?

He watched her face closely for any indication, but she made none.   He detected a look of confusion and was beginning to panic.  He felt rejection close at hand.  "¿Será usted mi esposa," [Will you be my wife?] he asked again, this time pulling his hand from beneath the pillow, revealing the ring.

Esposa?  WIFE!  He was asking her to be his wife!  Kara's heart was racing and thumping so hard she was sure it could be heard in the next county.  A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek when she caught sight of the beautiful marquis cut diamond ring.

Now Farron was beyond terrified; she was not answering.  Would she send him away?  Was the thought of marrying him so hideous she could not even respond?  Wait.  Was she crying?  A single tear rolled down her cheek.  He watched, amazed, as she reached for the hand that held the ring and slowly wrapped her fingers around it.  Her hand covered the ring completely and her eyes once again locked onto his.  He held his breath waiting for her response and when she finally spoke, "I would be honored to be your wife," he thought he might faint.  He could breathe again.  And smile.  A smile so wide and big he felt it had to reach from ear to ear.  He kissed her tenderly at first, deepening the kiss as he slipped the ring onto her finger.  "I love you so very, very much."

Kara looked at the ring that graced her hand.  Was this really happening?  "And I love you, my darling Farron."  She sighed happily while they held and kissed each other and could feel his growing hardness inside her.  "Love me," she begged softly, to which he so blissfully obliged.

*  *  *

Farron didn't think he and Kara had managed more than an hour or two worth of sleep.  They would doze and one would wake suddenly with a great need for the other.  That night, just three days after Tristan's birth, the night he had asked Kara to be his wife, had been the most amazing of his life.  Why?  Because one woman said one word.  Yes.

Now, they stood on Donovan and Loralei's doorstep, Kara's heartfelt gift propped between them.  How they had found the strength to leave their bed, Farron would never know.  He suppressed a chuckle when his tired-looking, disheveled twin answered the door.  "Good morning, Daddy!"

" 'Morning," Donovan mumbled sleepily and opened the door wider.  The picture he painted was quite hilarious.  He appeared to have one eye open and one closed.  He was squinting against the sunlight as if it were stabbing him sharply in the eyes.  His hair was corkscrewed in wild and funky loops and swirls.  "What can I do for you at such an ungodly hour?"

Farron lifted the painting into his arms and followed Kara into the house.  "Of course we came to see the children.  But Kara has something for you and Loralei."  He leaned the painting against the wall and turned when he heard Loralei coming down the stairs. 

Loralei greeted Farron and Kara with a warm hug.  Her disposition was cheery despite how tired she was. 

Farron smiled softly as he urged Kara to present her gift.  She was so nervous, there had been a point when he thought she was going to become physically ill.  Her eyes implored him to give his brother the painting.  Grinning, he balanced the painting on the seat of the couch and removed the covering.  "Shel had to wait until Tristan's arrival of course, but..."

Loralei gasped with delight as she moved into Donovan's embrace.  "It's wonderful!  Isn't it, Frank?  Oh God, baby, your hair."  Automatically, she set about trying to tidy it up.

Donovan nodded and smiled genuinely, dodging Loralei's probing hands.  "It is.  Thank you, Kara."  He noted the small signature scrawled in the lower left-hand corner of the portrait.  KMD.   His eyes followed Kara while she moved into his brother's arms.  Her hand rested on his chest as she snuggled against him.  Their faces glowed; they radiated love.  "Congratulations, brother," Frank said, eyeing the engagement ring on Kara's finger.

"It's about damn time," Loralei quipped.