She didn't care about fame or beggars or anything else. She only wanted
to see her brother. The moment the door opened, she pulled her sweaty
hand from Johnno's and shot down the hall.
"Let me see him," she demanded.
Brian bent over, shifting the blanket from the bundle in his arms. For
Emma, the first sight of her brother was love. Unconditional,
allencompassing. It was so much more than anything she'd expected.
He wasn't a doll. Even as he slept she could see the gentle flutter of
his dark lashes. His mouth was small and moist, his skin thin and
delicately pale. He wore a little blue cap over his head, but her
father had told her that he had hair as dark as Bev's. His hand was
curled in a fist, and she touched it, gently, with her fingertips.
Warmth, and the faintest of movements.
Love burst through her like light.
"What do you think?" Brian asked her.
"Darren." She said the name softly, savoring it. "He's the most
beautiful baby in the world."
"Got that pretty McAvoy face," Johnno murmured, feeling foolishly
sentimental. "Nice job, Bev."
"Thanks." And she was glad it was done. None of the books she had read
had prepared her for the exquisite, draining pain of childbirth. She was
proud to have brought her son into the world naturally, though it had
been touch and go during those last hours. Now she wanted nothing more
than to settle down and be a mother.
"The doctor doesn't want Bev on her feet much for the next few days,"
Brian began. "Do you want to go up and rest?"
"The last thing I want is to get into another bed."
"Come on in and sit then, and Uncle Johnno will fix you a nice cup."
"Beautiful."
"I'll go up and put the baby down." Brian grinned at the way P.M.
stood back and gawked. "He doesn't bite, old man. He doesn't have
teeth."
P.M. grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Just don't ask me
to touch him for a while."
"Entertain Bev. She really had a rough go of it. We've got a nurse
coming in this afternoon, but I don't want her doing anything strenuous
in the meantime."
"That I can handle." He wandered back toward the parlor.
"We'll put the baby to sleep," Emma announced and kept one hand on the
edge of the blanket. "I can show you how."
They started up the stairs with Emma leading the way.
The nursery had been finished with frilly white curtains and rainbows
painted on the pale blue walls. The bassinet had a skirt of snowy Irish
lace dotted with satin ribbons of pink and blue. An old-fashioned pram
stood in the corner guarded by a six-foot teddy bear. An antique rocker
waited by the window.
Emma stood beside the bassinet as her father laid Darren down. Once the
little cap was removed, she reached in to carefully stroke his downy
black hair.
"Will he wake up soon?"