PNL – Chapter 5. --- Cuddle Up a Little Bit Closer

The next months of my pregnancy went fairly smoothly. As suspected, the third trimester went particularly well for Woody, who just about completely got over his early concerns of traumatizing Emily. Yes, we decided to definitely name her Emily Jane Hoyt. When we told Dad, I am sure it was one of the most touching moments of his life.

When I told him that it had been Woody's idea, he seemed particularly impressed and seemed to have gained a new respect for Woody. I on the other hand, was completely stupefied as to how good my life was going and how right things seemed to be for the first time in longer than I cared to remember. I had a loving husband, a contented father, close friends surrounding me at work, and I was going to be a mommy.

On the first day of my ninth month, I went on maternity leave. We had a little shower at work and I went to pick Woody up afterward, only to find him not waiting outside for me like he usually was. Concern began to set in after a few minutes and I finally began to understand the fears associated with being the wife of a cop. I slid out of my SUV and waddled into the station, everyone wishing me luck as I headed back to his office. When I reached his wing of the building, I smiled seeing the very out of place cutesy decorations of a baby shower. Most of the officers in his hallway were still hanging around in doorways eating cake and chatting and they welcomed me warmly as I made my way to Woody's door. When I got there, I heard the song "16 Candles" playing and assumed it was one of many songs on a CD written specifically for fathers and daughters.

"16 Candles?!" I said playfully as I rounded the corner of his office, "She's not even born yet guys!" I said as Woody caught sight of me through the crowd of his coworkers. He was wearing a cone-shaped birthday hat with the words "It's a Girl" written across it in pink letters. He smiled and held up his plate of cake.

"Want some?" he asked and I waddled over to him through the crowd.

"Why? So I can start knocking everything in the house over with my stomach AND my ass?" I said and everyone laughed cheerily. I snapped the string on his chin playfully.

"Sure." I said with a smirk and Woody held the fork up to my lips. I took the cake happily and "mmmmed" for effect.

"Hey Hoyt!" a voice I assumed belonged to his office mate, Davey McKinney, called from the other side of the room. "Show her the shirt" He yelled and Woody shook his head between mouthfuls of rich, butter cream frosting.

"You show it to her! You got it!" Woody called back, swinging his feet lazily in front of his desk from where he sat balanced on the edge.

Another guy pulled up Woody's chair and guided me into it. I smiled a thank you and sat slowly down in the rolling chair. I looked up to see McKinney weaving his way through the noisy office to where we sat. He smiled and pecked me on the cheek. He was a cute guy, late 30's; almost black hair and dark skin to match it.

"How ya feelin' babe?" he asked in his smoky, thick, Southie accent. McKinney could get away with calling me that. After all, he was the big brother of one of my childhood friends. 

"Fine, fine, fine…now where's this shirt you two are so cryptically discussing?" I asked wringing my hands together.

 McKinney looked to Woody who reached to the other side of his desk where the presents were and grabbed a tiny little scrap of blue cloth which he flung at McKinney. When McKinney caught it, he turned it around and held it up for me to see.

"Taddaa!" McKinney said with a grin and I read the little shirt with amusement.

"Awww…..Daddy's little cadet." I said playfully slapping Woody's cheeks.

McKinney turned the shirt around to show me the back. It said Emmy Jane across the teeny shoulder span and there was a large white shield decal with BPD written across it.

"Emmy Jane?" I said raising an eyebrow at Woody who just smiled and went back to his cake. "Is that going to be my daughter's nickname?" I asked and another officer chimed in on the conversation holding up a cup of soda in toast.


"Around here it will be!" He said and the rest of the office occupants raised their glasses in agreement. I shook my head amused and turned to Woody who was admiring me tenderly. I smiled back and then stood and kissed him. Everyone hooted and whistled. We smiled against each other's lips and then looked around the room bashfully. We stayed a while longer and then gathered up our gifts and said good-bye to the last of the partiers before heading home. We looked over the gifts with Dad before heading up to bed where I could finally relax with my thoughts.


"Woody?" I said sleepily as I lay next to him in bed, my head resting on one of his strong biceps as his other hand lay protectively on my belly.

"Hmmm?" he said equally as sleepily.


"Do you realize that the next time I go into the morgue, I am going to be a mother? And that there is going to be a little baby girl at home being doted on by her grandpa?" I asked and Woody was quiet for a moment.

"I like that." He said and I knew he was thinking about the idea of knowing his baby girl was not going to be raised by a daycare, the mental image of my dad dancing slowly around the living room to a crooning Bing Crosby, with a little pink swaddled infant held securely by his large hands against his shoulder, already playing across his mind. I smiled and we drifted off to sleep together.

A few hours later, I was awakened by a gently tapping on my protruding belly. I opened one eye to find Woody propped up on his side, wide awake, and tapping on my stomach in the moonlight.


"I think this is hardly the time to be checking if I'm ripe, Wood." I said irritated and Woody held a finger up to his lips. I looked at him puzzled and he pointed to my stomach.


"Shhhhh…you'll scare her off!" he whispered sharply. I looked down at my stomach. Woody noticed I was a little lost and tried to give me an explanation.

"The freak show has begun!" he said happily as our daughter, as if on cue, popped me one in the side with her foot and the shape of her little foot showed against my skin. I sighed and laid my head back on the pillow and Woody tickled the foot, causing it to pull back in. He laughed and waited for another body part to abuse my innards.

"Do you two need me for this or can I try and get some sleep?" I asked and tried to roll to a semi-comfortable position. Woody seemed irritated by my reluctance to play and huffed.

"Sorry." He said childishly and I whacked him on the head.

"I hope you're this eager to be up with her when, you know, it involves diapers and teething…and…and feeding." I said and Woody shook his head.


"Oh, no. Feeding is your department. I don't possess the ability to lactate." He said smugly.

"But fortunately for everyone, you were blessed with two hands to change a stinky diaper and legs to walk around the house trying to calm her when her teeth are cutting while I do MY job and LACTATE…and while we're on the subject, this isn't 1950 farm boy, there's these great things called breast pumps, I fill them up, put the milk in bottles, those bottles go in the fridge and they last till right about the time Daddy's come home from work and can feed them to their children…or in the middle of the night." I said proudly and Woody sat up after poking at what appeared to be an elbow.

"That's not fair! Feeding for the next few months is supposed to be YOUR thing! Like…with the…the bonding and the closeness and…and…where's the love Jordan?" he said coyly and I smiled.

"Oh I can still do that, but I am going back to work and it will have to be just in the morning and at night when I am home…late night feedings are up in the air…either of us can take them." I said and Woody sighed in defeat, finally leaving my belly alone and flopped back down on the mattress. 

I gave in to his pouting and rolled so that I was right up against him and my belly lay against his side. I felt him smile into my hair and I lay my arm across his chest. He wrapped his arms around me in surrender and I fell back to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, I popped up feeling Woody still next to me, and knowing that he was supposed to be in work already. It was 9 am. His shift started at 8 am.

"Woody! Get up!" I said worried, sitting up and pulling at the collar of his undershirt. Woody rolled over and growled at me. He yawned loudly and snuggled deeper into the sheets, pulling the comforter up around himself.

"No, no, no…I got the day off…shower present from the chief." He said groggily and I smiled.

"Yay!" I said stretching and fell back onto the mattress with him and snuggled under the covers.

We woke rested around 10:30 and Woody brought me breakfast in bed. While I ate and fed him bacon from my plate, I began to feel a rumbling I knew wasn't hunger. Being about 14 days from my due date, the thought never crossed my mind that I might be experiencing the beginning of labor pains. Woody hopped out of bed just as I was licking ketchup from the plate off of my fingers and announced that he was going to take a shower. I rubbed my belly and just nodded to let him know I was listening. He didn't glance back to me again and missed it as I set the tray down on the floor and began to run my hands painfully over my increasingly angered belly.

"Oh shit." I said, cringing through my teeth as I carefully slid to the edge of the bed and made an attempt to stand up. Just as I did, I suddenly realized that I had rolled over a large wet spot on the mattress.

"Oh shit." I said again, finally surrendering to the fact that my water had broken. I quickly turned my attention to the bathroom door and could already hear the telltale pressure of water through the pipes. Woody was already in the shower. I slowly crept to the door and pushed it open. I could see Woody's figure outlined behind the opaque, blue shower curtain. He looked so relaxed and at peace. So of course being in the kind of pain I was in, I couldn't let THAT last too long.

"WOODY! GET OUTTA THE SHOWER, MY WATER BROKE AND I'M ABOUT TO BLOW!!!"  I yelled pulling open the shower curtain to find the man I was about to bring a little human being into the world for him to raise, making a pointy little goat-tee out of suds to match the soapy devil horns he had already fashioned on top of his head.  He looked terrified down at my belly and I could only see the sparkling blue of his eyes through the white suds.

"You mean?! But you…14 days! 14 days!" He yelled tripping out of the shower and making a valiant attempt to pull a pair of jeans over his wet legs.

"Yeah, well…tell that to her," I said rubbing my stomach. "She's part Cavanaugh you know…we go where we wanna go when we're damn good and ready!"

 I through an undershirt at him which he yanked shakily over his wet hair and as I picked up the phone to call the hospital, he dashed back and forth across the room grabbing things to take with us. When I calmly hung up the phone after being talked off the edge by my doctor, I followed the trail of clothes down to the front door where I found Woody with a duffle bag and a baby car seat under his arm, my purse around his neck, and car keys dangling from his mouth. Dad, having heard the commotion from where he was working on his car out in the garage hurried to the door, took in what was a probably rather amusing site of the two of us, and grabbed the keys out of Woody's mouth as he took off for the car, yelling orders for us to follow.

We were at the hospital in record time, especially considering the weekend Boston traffic. I had settled into a more bearable pattern of contractions by the time we were half way to the hospital, and I bided the time between breathing, sweating and praying that the kid would stay in until we at least made it to the front doors, by proudly watching my "boys" frantically dialing cell phones and checking and doubly checking everything they were bringing with us in the duffle bag and all but ignoring the person all of this fanaticism was inspired by who was sitting behind them in the car. Just as we were approaching the ER entrance, Woody seemed to remember that I was in the car with them and shakily asked me how I was doing as I was contorting my face in pain and a layer of sweat was quickly forming on my brow. I cringed through my teeth and gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. He took my hand gently and I could tell he was just as terrified as I was. This was after all the first child for either of us. Dad glanced at our entwined hands and in one swift motion pulled Woody's right hand out of my grip and then grabbed his left wrist and guided that hand into mine. We both looked at Dad puzzled. He glanced at us in the rear view mirror as he made the turn into the hospital.

"Why did you…" Woody began to ask and Dad cut him off.


"If you ever plan on usin' that right hand to do anything again, I think you'll do good to keep a hold of her with your left there, son." Dad said and Woody shook his head in slow understanding…just as I proved his point by nearly crushing Woody's left hand in my pain induced iron grip.

We pulled up to the doors and a nurse was already waiting for us with a wheel chair. Woody tripped over himself numerous times as he stumbled out of the front seat and opened the door for me. He pulled me out hurriedly and helped me into the wheel chair before grabbing the bag out of the back seat, clothes and a few stuffed animals hanging out of it. The elderly nurse calmly took in the site of all of us, Dad trying his best to get the baby seat in the back, me sitting in the chair, panicked and sweating, a pair of sandals, black Adidas shorts, a white undershirt of Woody's and one of his oversized flannel shirts on, and finally, Woody with his still drying hair sticking up all over his head, wet jeans and undershirt and overflowing bag of crap and said,

"Let me guess…first child?" She said with a smirk and we all looked at each other and nodded hurriedly. She smiled and turned me around, heading back into the ER. Woody followed dutifully and Dad said he was going to park the car and then wait out front for everyone invited through the phone conversations on the ride over to show up. They sent us immediately to the maternity floor and within 10 minutes of our arrival, the doctor was in to see us.

"Good morning boys and girls." Dr. Donnelley said coolly as he entered the room, wearing scrubs and a cap. He handed Woody an pair of scrubs to change into and Woody kissed me quickly, assuring me he'd be right back and then rushed out of the room. Dr. Donnelley rolled up to my feet putting on his rubber gloves and explained what was going to happen. He asked me how I was feeling, how long ago my water had broken, made sure that I was still interested in an epidural, and then to try and calm me down a little, jokingly asked if Woody would be needing one too. I smiled through the persistently approaching tears welling up behind my eyelids and we shared a brief laugh before "Hurricane Woodrow" hurried into the room. Woody was at my side as the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural. I was surprised that I nearly laughed during the procedure, except that I couldn't help the amusement I found in watching Woody clutch his childhood teddy bear to his chest in terror as the needle was inserted into my spine. When it was over I petted his head gently through the paper cap a nurse had tied hastily to his head.

Dr. Donnelley, never one to pass up a chance to crack a joke, pulled a watermelon Blow Pop from his chest pocket and handed it to Woody after patting him on the shoulder.

"Where's my lollipop?" I asked as they rolled me back onto my back, making me feel NOT unlike the beached whale I had been comparing myself to for the last few months of the pregnancy. Dr. Donnelley smiled as he jotted something down on my chart.

"Give it a minute or two and tell me if you didn't get the REAL lollipop." He said winking at me as he stood and headed to the room across from us, assuring he'd be back soon.

When he came back in to check my dilation 3 minutes later, I was having some very vivid flashbacks to the chill time following some of my college drug experimentations. Dr. Donnelley sauntered to my side and I patted his arm.

"I changed my mind, I don't care about the lollipop anymore…just give me a few of those to go." I said happily as I lay in bed, Woody holding my hand confidently with his right hand now.

Woody smiled around his lollipop stick and the doctor smiled an 'I told you so' as he swiveled to my feet and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.

"Let's see how we're doing here shall we?" He said as Woody and I waited eagerly to find how much I had dilated. "Well, we've got a future Indy 500 driver here! We're already at 8 centimeters." He said happily and Woody kissed my forehead.

"We should be introducing ourselves to miss Emily Jane in the next hour or so." He said and patted my knee. "Hey Pop," He said snapping off the gloves as he headed for the door. Woody turned his head to the doctor and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"You have some visitors out in the waiting room, how bout you go give them an update?" He said and Woody hopped to his feet with my approval and rushed out the door.

I laid there, alone for the first time that morning and listened to the steady monitoring of Emily's strong heart. Even after the years of studying to be a heart surgeon, it amazed me that I was able to lay there and hear the beating heart of my daughter while she was still inside my body, waiting to meet the world. I smiled and glanced toward the door Woody had just exited through and thought of how lucky this child was to be coming into a world with so many people waiting eagerly, feet away, to spoil her rotten with gifts and attention. And then, as I knew it would eventually, the sadness at not having my mother with me to assure me that everything would be fine, and sympathize with my labor pains, finally hit me. I broke down in silent tears, looking up at the ceiling and praying that my mother knew of her namesake that I was about to bring into the world.

I felt a familiar ache in my heart. An ache that I had felt when I got my first period, dealt with my first broken heart, had my first true love. A pain I had felt on the day I graduated from high school, and the first time I saw my name with the title of "Doctor" before it. A familiar pain I had felt more recently…like when I had met Woody and knew, but told no one, that he would one day be the man I would serve my heart up to on a silver platter to. A pain I felt when I learned I was pregnant and then shortly after, on the night before my wedding. And as I lay there, alone, listening to my baby girl's heartbeat, I cried and wished that my mother could have been there as I gave birth to my first child. Just as I was wiping away the last few hot, angry tears, Woody came back into the room, holding something at his side.

He smiled sadly, noticing my tears and more evenly strolled to my side and sat down beside me on the edge of the mattress.


"What have you got there?" I asked sniffling and Woody lifted the flat, square object for me to see. I smiled longingly and took the framed picture from his hand.

"Your dad said you almost forgot to bring her with you." Woody said softly and kissed me at my temple as I ran my fingers over the familiar picture of my mother, her hair pulled back by a floral barrette, her pose like that of a old time model. I felt Woody's strong hands on me as he rubbed hard circles into my back like the delivery nurse had shown him.

"I can see where you got your looks from…not…not that your dad isn't a…a…handsome…guy." Woody said stumbling to recover his words. I chuckled and rubbed my contracting belly.

"She would have loved you." I said and touched my palm to his sweaty cheek. "You would have made her laugh." I said smiling and handed the picture back to Woody who placed it on a tray beside the bed as Dr. Donnelley came back into the room, 3 nurses behind him.

"So…Jordan, my dear, what do you think about pushing this kid out so you can take her home and let those folks out there get started on turning her into a brat?" he said light-heartedly and I nodded, a few stray tears making their way to my eyes. With my silent permission, the nurses rushed to work prepping machines and tools, even laying out a pink swaddling blanket next to my head. I couldn't believe it was finally going to happen. I was going to be a mommy. I looked over at my trembling husband and we shared a moment where we knew we each could tell we were thinking the exact same thing. Woody took my lips in his and whispered 'I love you' before taking my hand in his. I mouthed 'I love you' back and tears shined in Woody's eyes.  I have seen the movies, and heard the stories where wives threaten their husband's lives at the moment right before they are about to give birth; vowing the man will never be allowed to touch them again, or screaming for them to give birth to the child THEY put in her that was causing her so much pain. But, in the moments I readied to give birth, I could only look upon MY husband with a sense of wonder that we were there, in a delivery room, having known each other for a little over two years in which time we had unwittingly found each other, fallen in love without knowing it, married and were now preparing to bring into our lives a life for whom we would be completely and utterly devoted to raising together and spend the rest of our lives together watching grow, fall in love, marry and give us grandchildren. The unconditional love I felt for Woody in those pre-pushing moments are what today, keep me confident in my ability to continue giving this man a part of me no one had been totally worthy of receiving before him,  until the day I die and if possible, even longer than that. It is what leaves me with no doubt in my mind that for the first time in my life up to the point I met him, I made the right choice in accepting the feelings I saw, pure and untouched in that picture Nigel had taken what felt like an eternity ago.

As I was trying to imprint the memory of Woody's young, eager, hopeful face into my brain for future reference, I felt my legs being gently lifted into the stirrups and voices informing me that it was time to push. Woody took my hand tightly in his and prepared for the impending crush of his bones. God love him for his devotion and so do I. The next few minutes were a little fuzzy and mildly hectic as nurses rushed around and I had little idea of what was going on just below my waist. I remember Woody mustering up the nerve, at the persuasion of Dr. Donnelley, to take a look at the thick, dark brown hair of our daughter and I recall the puffing out of his chest when the doctor commented on her paternally inherited Widow's Peak. I remember the feeling a few minutes later as at the contradicting relief and emptiness I felt when the pressure I had been feeling for nine months was elated as Emily left my body, and then the fulfilling site of Woody, tears flowing freely down his face as he shakily took the scissors and performed his "fatherly duty" in cutting the umbilical cord.

The next thing I remember is the tears of joy we both shared as we heard Emily's nanny goat cry from across the room as she was cleaned up. One of the nurses called for Woody to come over and he obediently hurried to her side. I watched mesmerized as he stiffened and then slowly turned to me, his total attention focused on the writhing pink bundle he held in his arms. Woody slowly made his way over to me and reluctantly laid the bundle in my arms. She was red faced and screaming bloody murder. Woody smiled and gently adjusted the little pink cap on her tiny head before placing his pinkie in his ear to clear the noise and announcing tearfully that she was most certainly a Cavanaugh. I smiled and tapped on the side of the small, plastic crib she would spend her time in the nursery in and Woody looked at it curiously.

"Nah," I said sniffling exhaustedly, "She already has a last name." I said and Woody ran his finders over the printed card announcing a baby girl, the name "Hoyt" written largely in black sharpie pen under it. He smiled and returned his attention to Emily and I. The doctor congratulated us and shook Emily's little hand with his pinkie as the nurses cleaned me up and prepared for me to deliver the placenta. They gave me a few moments to hold her though and allow her to calm to my touch. When she had nearly finished her hot-tempered wailing, I toyed with the dark locks of hair that poked out from under the pink cap. Woody was watching her in awe, her eyes closed and unaware of the curious audience she was holding. Woody sighed heavily and leaned down close to her ear, hope that she would recognize his voice written plainly across his face, and whispered,

"Hey there, Sweet Pea…it's your playtime buddy, remember?" he said softly and her nearly invisible eyebrows bounced in sudden awareness of the voice. "But you can call me Daddy." He said happily as one eyelid peeked open and a one ice blue eye caught the overwhelming attention of two larger, yet matching ice blue eyes.

"Ah-ha!" I said groggily and allowed Woody to lift her easily from my arms. "There's the Hoyt in you!" I said and ran a finger gently down the bridge of her nose as she drifted back off to sleep.

Later, I lay in my comfortable bed on the maternity floor. I glanced around the room as I awoke and found myself alone. I looked towards the door and noticed for the first time that I was across the hall from the nursery. I knew this only by the fact that around the window across from my room, there stood a motley crew made up of the people I called my family, all of whom were bunched together, cooing and tapping at the window.

"So how about a little attention to the lady who gave you that little girl to ooooh and ahhh over?" I called sleepily out into the hallway. Everyone turned around suddenly and filed into the room. I hadn't noticed that it was much later in the day, and only put it together when all of the Hoyt's filed in behind the others.

"OOO! Jordan sweety, she's beautiful!" Mrs. Hoyt said hurrying to my side and showering my face with kisses.

"Thank you, Mom." I whispered into her ear and when she pulled back, there were tears in the magnificently blue eyes her son and first grandchild had inherited. She smiled and kissed my forehead.

"That HAIR of yours, and those eyes of Woody's…"She sighed breathlessly and shook her head, overcome with adoration that could only come from a grandparent. "She's like an angel." She said holding my cheeks in her hands. A voice unexpectedly called out from the doorway.

"I dunno," I heard Woody say as the group parted, allowing me the view of my husband, smiling down at our child, who was sleeping soundly in his arms. He looked up at me with a smirk and then playfully back down to Emily. "I think she's got a good deal of devil in her too…she gets THAT from her mother too." He said and he was hugged all around. Everyone took turns gently kissing the baby's soft, dark head and then passed her slowly around as we all chatted.

"Woa…wait a second here…I don't do babies." Cal said as Nigel held Emily securely out for Cal to take. Nigel rolled his eyes.

"She's ASLEEP mate, if she's not moving it's no different than…than…holding a sack of potatoes." Nigel said holding Emily out once again.

"Nigel? Did you just compare my little girl to a lumpy burlap bag of edible starch?" Woody asked from where he sat, beside me on the bed, holding my hand.

Nigel just shrugged and held the baby to his chest cooing again.

After he was finished, he passed her off to Garrett who was holding her for the first time. He looked her small form over and gently toyed with her tiny fingers. I watched him, sure he was remembering when Abby was born. I watched him watch her with a pure love I had never seen in his eyes until that moment. Not even around a teen aged Abby. As I watched his eyes sadden, I thought I might later tell him that despite the things that went wrong with Abby, he had been a good father. Instead, I looked to Woody, silently asking permission to share what we had discussed. He nodded and I cleared my throat.

"So, what do you think of my 'goldfish', Garrett?" I asked smiling, as happy tears once again made their way to my eyes. Garrett smiled proudly and looked up. His eyes were shining and I could tell he was holding back tears, with little success.

"I think…she's wonderful." He said softly and a weak, emotional smile crept up on his face.

"Good." I said as he carried Emily over to me just as she was awakening. Garrett stopped at my side, right in front of Woody and prepared to hand Emily off to him. I looked up at him holding her and smiled a coy smile. "Because we want you to be her godfather." Garrett's head snapped up in surprise and he looked from Woody to me and back, making sure he had heard us right.

When he was sure we had just asked him to be our child's godfather, Garrett opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just stood there, continuing to hold Emily as he looked back and forth between the two of us, speechless. We just nodded together and Woody patted Garrett's arm before taking a fussing Emily for me to feed.
"You're welcome." Woody said and Garrett stepped back. I looked around the room as all eyes were on me and the hungry infant laying against my chest, her small, rosy, puckered lips already instinctively seeking nourishment from me. Everyone was quiet as I sat up higher in the bed and hit the call button for the nurse to come give me a hand. After all, this was the first time I was breast feeding Emily and I really didn't want to mess up and traumatize her for life. Everyone continued to watch as Woody helped me to sit up and brought over a pillow for me to rest Emily on.

"Okay," I said teasingly, "As much as I really like you all…and I know I am not the mot modest person in the world…but could ya…give us a few?" I said shyly and everyone embarrassedly left the room after one last look at the baby, and one last peck on her tiny cheek from my dad. The nurse came in a moment later and instructed me on how to breast-feed her. Woody watched from his seat beside me in quiet wonder of human instinct. After Emily had been suckling for a few minutes, Woody sighed and leaned forward on the bed to watch her closely.

"Something the matter Wood?" I asked and ran a hand through his hair brusquely. Woody shook his head.

"I just get the distinct impression that jealousy is going to be an integral part of the next few months of her life." He said and as if she understood, Emily's tiny hand came to rest possessively on the breast she had claimed. Woody chuckled and I let a throaty laugh escape my lips. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her head softly.

"Don't worry Princess, I'm not moving in on your territory. Just as long as you realize you're just renting. I own the property." He said and I pretended to wipe a tear from my eye.

"I'm so glad you're already instilling the values of 'women as property' in our hopefully future strong, independent woman." I said and rolled my eyes before returning them to my baby girl's sparkling, unfocused eyes.

"Hey, it's a good thing her eyes already look like diamonds, cause she's an April baby." I said and Woody seemed to miss the point. I rolled my eyes and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Birthstone?" I asked hopefully and Woody was still lost.

"April's birthstone is diamond Wood!" I said rolling my eyes again as Woody cringed and let his eyes drop back to Emily.

"Man, I have a feeling you're gonna keep me in debt for most of your teenage years baby." He said and petted her head gently again. Just as he did, Emily stopped drinking and hiccupped. Woody and I both laughed at the unnaturally tiny squeak and I passed her off to him as a deep yawn suddenly overtook me. Woody instructed me to get some sleep. I nodded and instead busied myself watching him as he slowly laid back in the slider rocking chair beside me, as a nurse passed by the room and winked at him sweetly. I think all of those nurses just adored Woody, I don't know whose cheeks they pinched more; his or Emily's.

Woody settled back into the chair and propped Emily up on his shoulder as if he were going to burp her. He did, gently…a little too gently actually, but I was told by many of people with kids over the past few months that correcting or telling the daddy that he is doing something wrong, is a big no no…so I just let it go and he eventually did manage to get a few little burps out of her. He smiled after the last one and then settled her small body into the large crook of his arm. I smiled as both of them seemed to settle and all the tension of the day left their bodies in unison. Woody sighed and Emily cooed, swinging her tiny fists back and forth for no particular reason other than that they were there and moveable. Woody took one little hand and I watched as he performed what he probably assumed was one of his first fatherly duties and began counting fingers then moving onto the toes. I smiled in surprise, seeing Woody in a new light for the first time. I flashed back to the day I found out I was pregnant and how I had watched him childishly trying to balance the soda bottle on his forehead, followed by playing the drums with it on the front of his car. I remembered further back to the first time I met him and how sweet he was in that aw gawsh way. I remembered the first time I thought of him as something other than the cute farm boy detective who wore his heart on his sleeve as he told me in the Pogue that he could be complicated too, and rendered me nearly speechless as I realized how little I really knew about him.

And then I lay in the hospital bed, watching him with his daughter, our child, and I was speechless once again in awe of how he kept unfolding like a flower. I found myself happier than I had ever been that this gentle giant beside me cooing over a barely day old baby girl, was not just a passing relationship, but the man I was determined to stick by and spend the rest of my life with. And for the first time in my life, I wasn't concerned with plotting the next point in my search to find my mothers murder. For the first time in my life something was more important to me, and oddly enough, it was the family I had found in the 23 years I had spent searching for the family I had lost. I smiled and finally allowed my eyes to shut as Woody began to sing softly and off key, a sweet little lullaby as Emily and I both drifted off to sleep.

" Sit-ting here be-fore the em-bers,

   watch-ing pic-tures fade and glow.

   Seems as tho' the fire re-mem-bers

   Scenes of the long a-go.

You with choco-late ring-lets stream-ing,

Dressed in knick-ers there am I.

Just two kid-dies lost in dream-ing

As we hum this lull-a-by.

Cud-dle up a lit-tle closer, lov-ey mine.

Cud-dle up and be my lit-tle cling-ing vine.

Like to feel your cheek so ro-sy.

Like to feel you com-fy, co-zy.

Cause I love from head to toe-sy

Lov-ey mine. "