December came rolling in and it brought little Joseph Hunter with it. Joseph Jesse Hunter. Jesse couldn't believe it but I understood. It was Jesse that brought Al and Rachel together after all.

The plan initially was to call the little tyke JJ but somehow we all took to calling him Joey. Still do. He's a grown man with children of his own now and I still think of him as little Joey Hunter. If he wasn't just the cutest thing too. I can plainly remember the day he was born.

Rachel had kept on teaching right up until school let out for Thanksgiving. That ticked Al off plenty. He was certain she was going to hurt herself or the baby. Mostly he was scared for her. I know he was.

But she said she felt fine and she was going to at least get her kids through to Thanksgiving before turning them over to a substitute. And she was fine. I mean I understood his fears and I still do but I have learned a lot through the years about a woman's intuition. Rachel knew she was fine and it was right to trust her.

But late one night during the first week of December, I remember it was warm for early December. Not warm like we was in Florida or something but warm for Michigan that time of year. In the forties I think it was and about to turn cold again. Anyway, late at night, Rachel started having pains. I guess Al thought about calling me or Emma or someone. Poor guy. I understand that. But Rachel told him to just get her to the hospital.

He called me from the waiting room though. I think he just needed someone to talk to. I yanked on some jeans and a shirt.

"James," Joanie said groggily. "What's wrong? Who was on the phone?"

She was rubbing her eyes and even as she was still half asleep, she looked frightened. Calls in the middle of the night rarely bring good news and our little group had taken more than its share of hits.

"Al," I told her not wanting to beat around the bush and worry her more. "Rachel's having the baby. I'm going to go down and sit with him a spell so he don't wear a hole in the floor with his pacing. You go back to sleep. I'll call you as soon as I have news."

Joanie sat up completely then and grabbed her glasses off the nightstand. She shoved them on her face and immediately was awake. That was Joanie. She would be groggy and half conscious until she put her glasses on. Once she could see, she was awake and alert.

"What aren't you telling me, James? Nothing's wrong, is it?"

I crossed the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. Her hands were twisted together in worry so I covered them with my own and gave a squeeze.

"As far as I know, this is just a woman having a baby. Doctor said she could go any time and I guess now is the time. Al is just being a typical nervous father. He's done too much for me through the years for me to leave him alone at a time like this," I assured her. "I'll go and the two of us will drink a lot of bad coffee while we wait for news. Once I have something more to tell you, I'll call. Okay?"

Joanie nodded and I knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep.

"Do you want to come with me?" I asked her and she shook her head.

"I think this is a time for you to spend with your father."

Maybe it was how tired she was that it came out that way or maybe she really meant to say that. It shocked me though to hear her use those words.

I just nodded dumbly at her and kissed her forehead before standing and walking out of the room.

All the way to the hospital I thought about her words. He walked me to the canopy at my wedding. He taught me to work on cars. He taught me to take care of myself and that taking care of myself didn't me always going it alone. He looked at me and saw possibility not predetermined failure. He offered me kindness when the rest of the world offered cruelty.

I had called Emma "mom" on a few occasions and that felt just fine. My dad was worse than my mom had been. It puzzled me that I hadn't ever called Al "dad" or referred to him like that.

But Joanie was right. He was my father. He had done all the things a father should do and had even healed most of the wounds left by my biological father. I smiled then. Somehow I was made more complete by this realization. I had counseled some of the others on how they could look to Al for an example of how to be a good father. I hadn't taken my own advice. All the fears I had at Joanie having a baby and me not knowing what to do…they just fell away. I had a father. I had one of the best fathers a boy could wish for.

By the time I got to the hospital, any grogginess I'd had from being woken up by the phone call was gone and I was nearly whistling. I found Al easy enough and he was anything but chipper. His face was ashen and his eyes were wild.

"What's wrong?" I asked him thinking that Rachel was in some sort of bad way. "Did something go wrong?"

"I still ain't heard nothing," Al replied. "She's been in there an awful long time, Jimmy."

"It can take an awful long time."

"I wish they'd tell me something."

"They're busy seeing to her," I reminded him. "That's more important, Dad."

I added the last word mostly to try it out. I hadn't called anyone that in a very long time. I referred to my own father as my old man. Dad had almost become a dirty word to me or something. I saw Al's eyes dart over to me when I called him that.

"I ain't nobody's dad yet," he grumbled.

"Yeah you are," I said. "You're mine."

He stopped his pacing then and just looked at me and I looked back at him. It was one of those things like in the movies where two people are looking at each other and saying volumes in those looks and maybe you think stuff like that don't happen in real life but it does. A lot passed between Al and me right then. Every fear either of us had about being fathers and being men was right there at the surface and not even needing to be said.

We didn't need to talk about the insecurities because we already knew and we didn't need to reassure each other because we knew all those things also. More than that, we knew that we'd be there for each other. The only thing that needed saying right then was what I had. Putting our relationship into words had power. He'd always been a father to me and I know I was always like a son to him. Saying it out loud…it meant more than I ever thought it would. If you ain't already sick of my advice, here's another pearl of wisdom for you. When we say that there are things that go without saying…sometimes they don't. Knowing something and hearing it out loud are two different things. Sometimes it's important to come out and say things even if you think they're understood.

Eventually we stopped staring at each other and set to waiting out Rachel in labor. It takes a long time for babies to be born. Men today have a better idea of what's going on in the labor and delivery room but back then we just knew it took a long time and all we could do was wait and worry.

"So…how 'bout them Lions?" I asked trying to find something we could talk about to break the quiet in the tiny waiting room.

"They stink to high heaven, Jimmy," he reminded me. "Same as every year."

"Fair enough," I said laughing at him. The Lions are a team built for a fan base of masochists. "Well, how about the Wings? I ain't sure what I think about this expansion."

"Well, they're holding their own at least. Not much over .500 but at least they're having a winning season. More than I can say for the Lions."

"And they still have Gordie. Delvecchio's looking good too."

"Yeah…few more pieces and they'll have quite a team."

"Yep."

Not my most profound of answers but to be honest, neither one of us was up for bland sports talk right then. So we sat and waited. Eventually Al spoke again.

"Have you heard a date yet for Kid coming back home?"

"Not an exact one…but the Army seems pretty confident they'll have him home before Christmas."

"That'll make Emma happy," Al mused.

"Having him home will make her happy…don't matter when."

"That's true," Al chuckled. "Don't think she'll be completely happy though until Billy comes home too."

"No, she won't," I agreed. "She's been spending a lot of time with Billy's folks. It ain't quite the same as Kid but I don't think any of us is going to breathe easy until everyone's out of that war zone."

We both nodded and restored the silence of the dimly lit waiting room. I've no doubt there was an overhead light in the room but it was still predawn and it didn't seem right to have that much light. We made do with the little lamp on the little table in the corner.

I suppose one or both of us could have picked up one of the outdated magazines lying on that table but we didn't. We just sat there holding cups filled with the most wretched coffee ever brewed. Every once in a while I'd get up to refill my cup and take Al's with me too. It was usually right about then that Al would steal a glance at the clock on the wall and sigh deeply.

I had just gotten sat back down after another trip across the room to the coffee pot when the door opened and in stepped a middle aged man in a white coat. He looked fresh as a daisy. Obviously he had gotten more sleep than either of us.

"Mr. Hunter?" he inquired and Al jumped up.

"That's me. How is she?"

"Mrs. Hunter is doing just fine," the doctor answered with a smile. "She's a little tired right now but she's just fine. And so is your son."

I don't think Al or I heard anything else the doctor might have said. We followed him down the hall to the nursery where the little guy was just being set down in his little bassinet behind the glass.

"My son," Al whispered as he put his hand against the glass. I chose not to make mention of the tears that trickled down his face.

"Congratulations," I said softly as I put my hand on his shoulder. This wasn't my place anymore. Just as Joanie had seen that the waiting was for me to do with Al, I knew this moment was for Al and his new son. "Better get back to Joanie."

The last was whispered as I walked away. Al was so transfixed by the new life in front of him, I doubt he noticed my leaving. I don't want that to sound like I think it came out.

I never begrudged that little guy anything. I didn't feel put out or pushed aside. Maybe if I was younger I would have or maybe if I didn't know how lucky I was to have even known a man like Al Hunter. But he was still my father and would have continued to be even if Rachel had given birth to a dozen more. The human heart can hold love for an infinite number of people within it. Al's heart was bigger than most even. I was never less important than anyone else in his mind or heart. But he needed to bond with his son…the one that was really his.

I'll give a little spoiler and say that Rachel didn't have a dozen more. She didn't have any more at all. She was completed by little Joey's birth and they were happy then.

As for me right then, I needed to call Joanie. I knew she hadn't gone back to sleep. I found a pay phone and filled her in on what details I had and that I was heading home.

Me and Joanie made our way back over to the hospital later that day. Joanie fussed over the little guy and over Rachel and Al as well. Al was so proud. Rachel looked great for all she'd been through. I knew she had hidden her own fears to save Al the worry. I don't think she completely believed things would work out until they placed that little bundle in her arms.

Joey was a cutie too. It's hard to tell when they're first born but as he grew, you could tell he got his mama's pretty green eyes and his daddy's brown hair. It just kept darkening as he grew and by the time he hit high school was a deep chocolate brown. The girls couldn't help but fall all over him. Of course he got his daddy's charm too so that served him pretty well too.

I know I keep getting ahead of myself but sometimes it's good to know things that happen in the future too. And all of this is the past for me anyway.

Sunday dinner at Emma's was extra jubilant. Rachel wasn't home with the baby yet but we were all still so happy for Al and he was there bragging up a storm about little Joey.

"You sure are a proud papa," Emma remarked.

"Yes I am," he answered. "I don't think I've been this proud since I watched Kid and Lou graduate except maybe when Jimmy here got his Master's."

I wasn't the only one whose head shot up at that.

"Don't look at me like that," Al chastised. "We all know I ain't a first time father. I been raising this motley bunch for a good while now. And everything I have watched you all go through makes me just look forward to seeing all of that with Joey. The graduations, the proms, weddings…grandbabies. I can't wait to see the man he turns into."

It was a very emotional meal.

Once we all disbanded from the table, Sam pulled me aside.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, Jimmy."

"Sure Sam," I said and then caught his look. "Is everything alright? Emma's not sick or something, is she? Nothing's wrong with Sarah Jean? Michael?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I just needed a little advice on something."

I wasn't sure what possible help I could be to him but he had helped me quite a bit through the years so if he thought I could offer some advice, I had to at least listen to him.

"So, what's up?"

"You know how I got kind of a special assignment after the riots, right?"

"Yeah, you and Tom got stuck investigating the deaths at the Algiers, didn't you?"

Tom Culley was Sam's partner.

"We did."

"Did something break in the case?"

"You could say that," he said and then he got real quiet for a while before he spoke again. "It wasn't rioters that killed those men, Jimmy. It was cops. I didn't know for sure until a couple days ago but the evidence is overwhelming. And then we even got one to confess. Didn't even interrogate him hardly. I think it was weighing on him. I guess that's remorse and it counts for something but we arrest people every day who feel bad about what they've done. Doesn't seem right to make an exception because the guy wears a badge. We ought to be held to a higher standard."

"Have you filed your report yet?"

He shook his head.

"Tom ain't so sure we should. He even said that if I filed a report implicating police officers that he'd file one of his own saying he couldn't reach a conclusion based on evidence."

"What about the confession?"

"Pretty sure that will somehow come up missing," he replied with a defeated smile. "I know the officers won't be arrested no matter what I find."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. What would you do?"

"Sam, I can't tell you that," I answered honestly. "For one thing, I ain't in your shoes and I don't know what I'd do exactly. And for another…well, there's a lot to weigh into this, it seems. Would you lose your job over filing the report that says the cops did it? What does Emma say? If you don't lose your job, would it make for a worse workplace for you?"

"I can't say work would be a cozy place for me…but how do I even try to tell Jesse to do the right thing or Sarah Jean or Michael…how can I tell them anything if I don't lead by an example?"

"I think you just answered your question," I said. "Doing what's right sometimes has as many consequences as doing wrong. But there's no price you can put on being able to look your family in the eye. Of course, I'm married to the great defender of the persecuted so that might skew the way I think."

Sam smiled a genuine smile then and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"The next question is whether Emma will understand this when I am suddenly unemployed."

"Talk to her," I said. "Tell her what you just told me. Your integrity is a good piece of what she loves about you."

"Thanks Jimmy."

"There you are, James," I looked up to see my Joanie standing in the doorway of the den where Sam and I had wandered off to. "Emma was looking for you."

"She probably needs help with that platter again."

So I took a break from fanfiction for November and Nano...failed miserably at hitting any sort of decent word count and then couldn't write a gosh darned thing for a while. Finally got a little break through with the Christmas story with Jimmy and Emma...then just nothing at all! So frustrating...but I got my friends at the plus to help me focus and this came about...there is still so much more to go before 1967 is over and they ring in the new year. Small spoiler alert here that 1968 gets a little rough on a few people. Those who know their history will understand a few of the reasons why.

Anyway...now that this is written, I think next up is the final slice of pie. I know it's taken me forever to get to that last one (or what I think will be the last one anyway...you never know what the muse has in mind.)...but I think it will be good all the same. Rachel has been so patient in waiting for her pecan pie.

I hope the new year is starting off well for all of you...or at least all of you who aren't freezing your faces off like we are here. Kisses!-J