This will be the final chapter. Hope you all have enjoyed it! :-)
Chapter 5 - Hearts Full of Passion, Jealousy, and Hate
Patrick turned and sat down on the bed, his knees suddenly weak beneath him, "Patrick Lewis Turner," he repeated to himself softly, his voice barely a whisper. "You're naming him Patrick?" He was stunned, thinking back upon Tim's childhood, acutely aware of just how much he had missed and all he had done wrong during that time. "Are you sure?" he really didn't feel worthy of the honor.
"Dad, I know what you're thinking, but you really were a good father before Mum died and we did have a rough time of it after, but you made up for it all by marrying my favorite nun," he grinned that lopsided grin he had inherited from his father. "We are completely certain."
Shelagh sat beside him on the bed, rubbing her small hand in circles upon his back, with tears trailing lazily down her face once more. She had lost count of the number of times she had cried with joy that day. "It's a wonderful name," and noticing the way that baby Patrick was beginning to root around Grandpa Patrick's chest she added, "but I think it's time you give your namesake back to his mother. He appears to be getting hungry."
Mrs. Lewis, now the only person in the room not sitting on the small bed was starting to feel uncomfortable, she was not a highly emotional person and even though the baby in front of her was her own grandson, she suddenly felt as if she were an intruder upon this close-knit family. "I can go make up a bottle if you tell me where you've put the milk?" she offered, desperate to feel useful.
"Mum, we talked about this. I want to do things my own way, the way we feel is best for baby Patrick," she shifted in place as Patrick placed the baby gently back into her arms, "besides, we haven't bought any canned milk."
"I just don't understand why you'd go through all that trouble and pain. I did it because I had to, but you have a choice. There's so much convenience I wish I could have had that you are choosing to ignore!" she really could not understand any of her daughter's choices anymore. "I can phone the pub again, get your dad to stop by the store on his way back."
Bernadette's protest was interrupted by Shelagh, who knew that the very worst thing for her right now was stress. "Alright, men, out! We've got work to do in here and you are not invited!" she demanded in a playful, yet no nonsense tone as she shooed them out of the room.
Crossing to sit on the bed beside Bernadette, Shelagh began to show the new mother how to feed the baby properly. Bernadette winced as the baby began to suckle and Mrs. Lewis again felt like the intruder rather than the mother. "I'll just step outside, get started washing some of these things," she muttered, scooping up a handful of dirtied linens and towels.
"We need to make sure his lips aren't tucked inward, he's not getting a proper latch," Shelagh instructed, taking note of Mrs. Lewis' exit, but unsure how to reassure her and keep Bernadette relaxed at the same time. "That's it! His lips need to be poking out, just like that!"
"Oh, that hurts a lot less now, thank you," Bernadette smiled at Shelagh, then allowed her gaze to fall down to the baby at her breast. "I just don't get why Mum doesn't understand how much nursing Patrick means to me."
"She just wants to give you things she never had, dear. Try not to worry about it, we don't want any stress right now. It's just you and baby." The two women spent the next while in silence, watching baby Patrick in awe as he continued to nurse. "It means a lot to me too," Shelagh broke the quiet, "that you are naming the baby Patrick, I mean."
Bernadette leaned toward her mother-in-law so that the sides of their heads were pressed together, "When Tim and I first started dating I was so nervous to meet the two of you, did you know that?" Feeling the small shake of the other woman's head, she continued, "he spoke of you all so much and so highly, I was so afraid you wouldn't like me and it would end things. But you have welcomed me into your home and into your hearts and I couldn't be more grateful - you really are a mum and dad to me."
Shelagh gave a soft chuckle, "Bernadette, Timothy was too smitten with you to ever let you go, and he still is. And you know we love you like our own. Now why don't you get a bit of rest, there are plenty of grandparents ready to take shifts with this little one while you take a nap. You have definitely earned it!" Shelagh lifted the newborn gently out of his mother's arms and helped her lay down on the bed.
"You're not an outsider you know; she still loves you and you will always be her mother," Shelagh proclaimed to Mrs. Lewis as she handed off the sleeping bundle in her arms.
"I never said… How did you… What…" Mrs. Lewis fumbled over her words, how did this woman read my mind, she wondered to herself. "That is to say, I know that deep down, but she seems so different to me - and so very much like you."
A small smile creeped across Shelagh's lips, "yes, that is very true, but that doesn't mean you are unimportant to her. I may think of her as my daughter, but you will always be her Mum."
"Thank you" was all she could manage. She trusted it would be enough.
Shelagh and the children spent most of the time she wasn't on duty at Tim and Bernadette's flat. The children adored their new nephew and Shelagh was glad to help Bernadette with chores around the house after her parents went back home, not to mention that she loved snuggling with baby Patrick as much as possible. So when Bernadette and the baby showed up at the house one afternoon, Shelagh was delighted, but also a little confused, "What are you doing here, dear? I thought we were bringing you supper tonight at the flat?"
Bernadette, eyes red and brimming with tears, exhaustion, and frustration, pushed a screaming Patrick into Shelagh's arms. "I don't know what's wrong, he won't stop crying," she fell into a crumpled heap onto the armchair, face buried in her hands, "I tried nursing him, changing him, rocking him, I tried everything… he just won't stop!" She looked up at the newborn, dejected, "perhaps I'm not cut out for this after all."
"Sweetheart, you are most definitely cut out for this!" Shelagh shifted the babe in her arms to kneel in front of her daughter-in-law, "we all have times when it's overwhelming. I'm so glad you came here for help." She reached out and caressed Bernadette's cheek with a smile, "perhaps he just wanted some time with Granny. Why don't you get some rest?"
"I'd rather take a walk," Bernadette admitted sheepishly, "to just go out without a pram and be alone with my thoughts for a little while, is that alright?"
"Perfectly alright!" Shelagh helped Bernadette stand and led her out the door before she could change her mind, "Patrick and I will be just fine." Shutting the front door and turning her attention to the newborn, "now dear, whatever is the matter? Tell Granny all about it."
When Patrick came home after his rounds a little while later, Angela and Teddy were playing outside. "Sorry, Dad, but you've been replaced!" Angela called out with a smile, happy to tease him for a change, "And I'm not sure you'll ever get Mum back if she has anything to say about it." As he went inside, his heart leapt with joy at the sight of his wife swaying and cradling his namesake in her arms. She hadn't heard him come in, and he crept slowly closer, trying not to alert her to his presence just yet.
As Patrick came closer, he realized she was singing, "all too soon my secret love, became impatient to be free…"
"So I told a friendly star, the way that dreamers often do," Patrick continued the song while coming up behind his wife wrapping his arms around her waist, "just how wonderful you are and why I'm so in love with you." Hooking a finger under Shelagh's chin, Patrick turned her face to meet his and kissed her firmly, "Angela told me I'd been replaced." He grinned down at the sleeping bundle in her arms, "I can't say that I mind, though. Where's Bernadette?"
"She went for a walk. Patrick just wouldn't settle, she needed a break." Grandpa Patrick nodded his head in understanding, he remembered those newborn days well and he was in his fair share of homes with infants throughout the day. "In the end, I think he just needed a song." Shelagh gave a soft sigh and leaned back into her husband's arms, "Our song seemed appropriate enough."
"Have I told you lately how glad I am our secret love's no secret anymore?" He breathed her scent in deeply and held her close, "because I couldn't imagine my life without you."