School started without much fanfare in September of 1940, it also began the travel for Ken between Base Borden and Toronto, along with late night making sure that the magazine was done on time, Which was fine until he started coming home in the middle of the night reeking like whiskey that only made the sleep he did get riddled with nightmares that woke Rilla up cutting her sleep shorter and shorter. Between the hospital and the influx of young girls that Marianne had coming and going.
This one particular morning was a rush after the alarm didn't go off, but usually Rilla had another set of hands and he was trying but failing at it miserably and the kids were shuffling their feet and dallying instead of getting ready, sending curious looks to their father who looks like he hadn't slept at all and they mother who was steaming in silent anger.
"Enough!" Rilla tells them. "You all have school to get ready for, so hop to it." They all scurry, Oliver taking Clara's hand who has never really seen her mother mad before, and Rilla looks at Ken with stormy eyes. Even Willow looked at Rilla and quietly took Fleur to ready her for the day's childcare at the ammunition factory.
"Where were you last night?" Rilla asks him already knowing the answer.
"Jesus Christ Rilla, my head is killing me," Ken groans from the table. "Can you be a bit quieter?
"Be quiet? Who was the one dealing with your night terrors Ken? It was me, you're wife. Seriously you still haven't learned? Every bloody damn time, you know I don't like you drinking, I don't like alcohol to begin with but turned my head because you were at least responsible about it and didn't do it in the house. You are not twenty-six anymore, if you continue this you will not be welcome in this place until you are completely sober once again."
"You acting like I do this all the time!" Ken refuses, not believing she is right.
"Lately it has been! Four times in the past two weeks and counting Ken and I have tried to ignore it, look past it because at least you came home before midnight, but this? This whole 3 am slinking in the door shit ends here."
"I have to go to work," Ken says grabbing his things. "You know so I can pay for all of this!" He motions around to the house they live in.
"Mummy?" Clara asks almost whimpering, dressed for school, her glasses eschew on her nose holding out hair ribbons. "Why are you mad?"
"I'm sorry Clare-bear," She says sighing and pulling her close. "Sometimes mummy and daddy's argue, it will be okay." She quickly braids and ties the ribbons on the ends and gives her a good hug for good measure. She sighed hating that the kids heard her. She just couldn't take it this morning, the dragging feet, the hangover, his constant travels outside of the city leaving her to hold the fort days at a time. With too much to do lately, too much war talk and they still knitted and to top it all off, they still made bandages for the Red Cross for donations. Surely factories could make them faster?
For Rilla, the call comes early before she even leaves for work, a scrambled anxious message.
"It's time, Connie says it's time like for real this time this isn't a false alarm like last time."
"Where are you?" Rilla asks in sudden excitement that her war baby is having a baby of his own.
"Home, she doesn't want to leave just yet," Jimmy tells her. "Doesn't want me to be stuck in a waiting room, which honestly seems much nicer because I don't know what I'm supposed to do or how to even help her."
"You hold her hand and do whatever she tells you to and keep your mouth shut," Rilla tells him. "And whatever you do don't tell her to breathe. Do you want me to come over?"
"Connie's mother is here," Jimmy tells her. "I'll call if anything changes."
It was almost evening when Rilla saw Jimmy pacing in the waiting room. She pulls him into a hug. He was nervous, and for once there wasn't a room full of expectant fathers these days, while some expectant fathers waited to enlist until their child had been born, others left their wives with surprises after they left. To go through labour without anyone waiting on the other side of the door.
When she looks in on Connie she finds her in the throws of labour.
"Why would anyone do this more than once?" She asks the older woman.
"Because it will be worth it when it's over," Dorothy, her mother tells her and Connie looks at her.
"Your mother is right," Rilla says after a moment. "It's not easy but you will feel differently afterwards."
"I am never letting Jimmy touch me again without precautions," Connie groans and the older women chuckle lightly.
When she goes back to the waiting area she finds Ken with Jimmy. The kids as well in the corner as well.
"I feel like I am going stir crazy, I can't believe you've done this three times," Jimmy says shaking his head.
"Technically I only did it once," Ken reminds him. "I was there when Oliver was born, and it's not secret that I played doctor when Rowena was born. It was only Clara and that was because of an emergency and that all happened so fast. I didn't even have time to process what was going on until when they came to bring me back after her surgery."
"You still watched your wife go through labour three times!" Jimmy reminds him.
"Of course, it will be fine, she's young and strong and has good doctors," Ken tells him not arguing.
"She's right on a track it won't be much longer," Rilla tells him rubbing his arm. "Just remember this moment in a few weeks when things are settling and that baby is sleeping a few hours at a time."
"Mom!" Jimmy squeaks and Rilla laughs lightly and shakes her head.
It feels like forever, as Rilla sits with Oliver and Rowena, Willow is next to Jimmy trying to keep him occupied with the crossword in the paper, when a nurse comes into the room and Jimmy looks up and stands up so quickly he almost trips over his feet. Connie's younger sister Elsie was reading magazines with Rowena, and baby catalogues that were filled with frills and lacy baby things.
"I can't wait to be a mother," Rowena says with a giggle.
"I think you can," Ken says from his spot. "A good age is what twenty-five these days?" He looks to his wife."
"I was twenty-four when I had Oliver," Rilla reminds him. "And we had been married for three years at that point as well."
"That is different," Ken says stubbornly.
"Chrissie Jenkins older sister got married a few weeks ago, was seventeen and her husband was going off to war," Rowena tells him. "She's not in school now of course but she still lives at home."
"That is another situation entirely," Rilla tells her. "and seventeen is far too young to even think of marriage. It's a big commitment. Your father would never sign off on that."
"Damn right I wouldn't," Ken mutters.
"Don't swear in the hospital," Rilla chides him giving him a look. "I hope Mrs. Clarke is doing all right with Clara and Fleur?"
"I'm sure they are fine," Willow says speaking up, "I called checking in not long ago."
"Mr. Anderson," A nurse comes to the door of the family waiting room, and she says with a smile. A smile is always a good sign in those moments. "You may come with me," she beckons him and he turns back to Rilla and Ken who wave him off. But he stops and looks at Rilla who only nods her head and takes her purse from the chair. Even grown men need their mothers sometimes. They both follow the nurse back and open a door for him.
Connie with a fresh ribbon in her strawberry blonde hair, a pink nightgown and a bed jacket holding a white blanket in her arms. Rilla stays back and Jimmy steps forward towards the bed as if it all became real to him in that moment.
Rilla looks to Dorothy who smiles at her and whispers something quietly.
"Would you like to meet your son?" Connie asks him.
"We have a…" Jimmy stammers trying to wrap his head around it and Connie laughs and holds out the bundle. Jimmy takes the bundle rather shyly as if he's never held a newborn in his life, which is far from the truth as he was almost ten when Rowena was born and twenty when Clara was born.
"What do you plan on calling him?" Rilla asks after a moment of silence.
"Bertram," Jimmy says looking at Connie who nods her head. "Bertie for short of course, but for Cons Father," he says looking at his mother-in-law who looks like she is ready to cry.
"Bertie is adorable," Rilla says coming up behind him.
"and for you," Jimmy says next. "Bertie— Bertha, which is technically your name as well, even if no one uses it."
"Oh you dear sweet boy, your grandfather will also think Bertie is after him," Rilla reminds him.
"It can be as well, he allowed you to take care of me and I do remember him playing with me as a child. He was never unkind to me," Jimmy says quietly. "He has a bunch of people who meant a lot to both of us and hopefully that will give him luck in life."
"Can I hold him?" Rilla asks and Jimmy nods his head and passes him to the woman who saved his life.
"Go show him off to everyone," Connie says after a moment and Jimmy looks at her.
"Well, that turned out to be a day," Ken says from his side of the room. Shrugging out of his jacket and pulling his tie off completely. Unsure if his wife was still angry at him or if the grandchild arriving, quelled the anger she had this morning.
"So it did," she says replying as she struggles with the zipper of her dress. Ken watches for a moment before stepping in to help her. Pulling the zipper down he presses a kiss at the back of her neck like old times. Except instead of hooks and bars, buttons, these days it's zippers.
"I'm sorry about this morning," he says quietly.
"I overreacted," Rilla tells him shaking his head. "You're only doing what you need to do, and if I could manage it at fifteen, I can manage it now. Though that letter you sent at Christmas of 1914, when you told me you were enlisting. I bitterly looked out the window saying how much I hated the war already. You went from a sweet, romantic letter to breaking my heart in many ways."
"Still it's not fair that I leave you to manage the kids and house all the time," Ken shakes his head before turning to the other big subject. "Bertie though, I wasn't expecting that name."
"Neither did I, but it is for a good handful of people and it suits him. A grandson, I barely feel old enough for one Kenneth. Not when we are still trying to deflect the chances of our own."
"The ways of life are never fully explained," Ken says simply. "As long as I don't have to see you vomiting blood again, I will be forever grateful." He kissed the top of her hair pulling her towards the bed with him. It's not sexual, as he pulls her close and breathes in her unique scent that he has grown to know so well.
