He laughed, “I’m afraid not. I’m sure I’d paralyse you if I gave you an epidural.”

“Well, how about just the Demerol then? Little injections here and there?”

He laughed again and shook his head.

A little while later the doctor came in. He lifted up the blanket and violated me in an effort to check my progress, then looked at me and smiled, “You’re there! It’s time to start pushing, Silvia. Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes,” I told him. I wiggled to the foot of the bed.

I could feel every contraction, but it did not hurt. I pushed with all my might for about fifteen minutes and only felt a little tired. “Push! Push!” Said the doctor.

“Come on, Sil!” Oliver was hopping up and down, “I can see the head! I can see it!”

“Really?” I honestly tried to sit up and look. Nobody seemed to notice.

“That’s it, Silvia, one more good push!” The doctor coached.

“Oh, yes, Love! I can see the head!” Oliver repeated, “Push!”

I was watching my husband as I did what he said. He looked exactly like that boy at Bennington, his hair a little too long and tousled, his eyes blazing with excitement, in a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, black trousers and a tie so loose it was almost sideways around his neck. He looked just like he’d looked the day I’d met him, just like he did when he kissed me by the lake. A thousand memories washed over me all at once, all of them were of him.

“I love you, Oliver.” I told him truly.

“I love you, too, Sil!” He kissed my temple and put his hand over mine, “Push, Love!”

I took a deep breath and drew my legs up. I pressed my chin to my chest and I pushed with all my might. I did it for Oliver. I was going to give that boy I had loved so much for so many years what he wanted more than anything in the world; another child.

In an instant the room filled with the screaming of a brand new baby.

Oliver kissed me on the mouth, “You did so good!”

“What did we have? Chocolate or cherries?” I was trying to sit up to see, but the nurses had me blocked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“It’s a boy,” The doctor grinned at us as he weighed our son, “And a nice healthy, big one, too!”

The nurse kneaded my tummy as if it were dough to help me expel the placenta. Once I had, the doctor handed me our son. He was pale and smooth, whining and shaking slightly. He seemed so tiny to me compared to how I had felt when they’d handed me Caro, even though he was considerably larger than she had been. His little hand popped up out of the blanket and clasped my finger, he rubbed his tiny toes against my stomach as he squirmed. “Oh, my, this one has a grip!”

“He’s not so apish,” Oliver said quietly, stroking our son’s spine.

“No, but he’s bloody beautiful! Look at him! He’s so handsome!”

“He looks a bit like Pierce Brosnan.”

I laughed, “No, I think he looks a bit like your father!”

“Oh, shut your noise, you! Let’s stay with Pierce Brosnan!”

“OK,” I giggled. “He wants his bottle shaken, not stirred.”

“Oh, yes, he does!” Oliver ran his thumb over his son’s bald little head, “Look at the cone on this one!” He took our son from my arms and laid him on my lap. He pulled back the blanket and began to examine him, “Oh, he’s put together good! You’re an excellent baker, Mummy,” He checked his hands and feet for reflexes, bent his little arms and legs, “He’s hung like a Dickinson, too!”

I burst out laughing. Oliver swaddled our child and held him close, breathing the scent of him in. “Oh, my son! I have a son! I get to name you, yeah? Your mum said if you were a boy I could! And you are a boy, so I get to!”

“Do you have a name picked?” The nurse asked.

“Oh, let’s not call him Pierce!” I begged dramatically.

“Are you sure, Love? It’s Scottish and he looks just like him! Plus, it’s Merlyn’s name. We could call him after Merlyn.”

“I know it’s Scottish, but I’m sure. Plus, Lance might be upset if we called him after Merlyn. And Pierce is a verb, too. I don’t want to always be calling him a verb.”

“No Pierce Lancelot?”

I knew he was joking, but still exclaimed, “Oh, God! No!”

“All right then! It’s a good Welsh name for this one! And a noun, too! Gryffin!” Oliver said proudly. “Our son will be called Gryffin Alexander!”

“That’s a right manly name,” I told the baby, “We couldn’t have brought a son into the world and given you a sissy name, could we?”

“No, I’d not do that!” Oliver handed our baby back to me and sat on the side of the bed, grinning, “No son of mine would be called something pansy like Patsy! Patsy Dickinson! That’d be shameful!”

And so there we were again laughing it up with another child. Only this time instead of being horrified the nurse laughed with us.

After a few more minutes they brought the baby down to the nursery, set me right, and took me to my recovery room. Once again it was filled with flowers, balloons and cards. I got settled in.

“Is Alexander still here?” I asked, wondering why no one was popping in for a visit. “Where are all my children?”

“Yes, Love, Alex is down the corridor with the rest of your adoring public. I’ll let them all know it’s safe to come,” He gave me a quick peck on the forehead, “Be right back.”

Ana and Edmond were the first to enter. Carolena and Nigel followed close behind. Alexander came next with a sleeping Natalie on his shoulder. I allowed Nigel to have one of my bears and pulled Caro on to my lap. I gave her a balloon to yank at. My dad rang to say he could not come, but he was very, very happy and relieved that Gryffin and I were well. Lance tossed us a bell as well, telling me that he’d love to come, but he had to mend a fracture in his leg.

“You grew too fast,” I told him, “Your bones became brittle!”

“Oh, you, Silvia!” He laughed. “If you must know I tumbled off a stool trying to get clotted cream from a shelf!”

“Well, that’s what you get for having tea at the home of the Jolly Green Giant!”

“Ah, Sil! What am I going to do with you? Always knowing my secret get a ways!”

“At least you didn’t tumble down the beanstalk! You might have broken your neck!”

“So true!”

“Oh! Lance, I love you, but Sandy’s beeping in on the other line!”

“Of course! Ring me anytime, Silvia! Tell Sandy hello!”

“I will! Cheers!” I switched lines, “Sandy! How are you?”

She had three children of her own now. “A boy! Oh, Silvia…it’s just been too long!”

“I know. I’ve seen Lance, but not you or Merlyn since Bennington. I think we need to plan to get together. Lance says hello, by the way!”

“Oh, I should ring him up. I think we need to plan a get together, too! In advance so no one can argue!” She sounded so close that I felt like I could reach out and hug her, “Bennington welcomes their graduates back once a year. We should rent a hotel nearby and have an all-out do. Do you want me to plan it then?”

“Yes!” I told her, “And I’ll help if you need!”

“Oh, Sil, I can’t wait!” She squealed, “It’ll be so fantastic!”

“I couldn’t get Merlyn,” Oliver told me after I’d hung up, “I left him a message, though.”

“He’ll call back.” I said, “Did anyone get Lucy?”

“Alex left her a message, too.”

Lucy had been nearly impossible to get a hold of recently. She was busy as all girls in their early twenties are, figuring out how to make her way through the world on her own terms. It made me sad that she wasn’t there, that she wasn’t part of our happiness, but I understood she had her own life. I just hoped it wouldn’t be like that forever and that sooner or later she’d come back to us. I missed my little sister terribly, but I forced it from my mind and focused my attention on my husband and my new son.

The room had emptied by the time she called to wish us congratulations. “I’m so sorry I can’t come,” She told me, “I have this new job. My supervisor is a complete pillock and he won’t give me the time off.”