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Reeling in the Years	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 5080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or its characters and I am not profiting from this story in any way.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
2:00pm
Everyone was talking excitedly over each other. Lynn Sr. leaned forward, waving his hand and trying to calm them, but his voice was drowned out in the din. Rita came down the stairs, a worried expression on her face.
"Enough!" Lynn yelled, and silence crashed down over the room. He looked at his wife. "Lori's water broke."
Rita's eyes widened and she her hand fluttered to her chest. "Oh, oh, oh...let me get my coat."
"I'll get Lori's bag," Leni said and got up. "Sit down." She helped Lori sit, then rushed off, taking the stairs two at a time. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne both watched Lori with stricken expressions, neither knowing what to do. Lynn leaned over the couch and rubbed his sister's shoulder, rare concern in his eyes. "You alright?" he asked softly, and Lori nodded.
"Everyone stay calm," Lynn Sr. said and got up. When Rita's water broke with Lori, the two of them panicked and rushed around like chickens with their heads cut off. By the time it happened with Lincoln, they calmly went to the hospital – after finishing dinner. "There's no need to get worked up," he said in a low, even voice. "I'm going to put my shoes and coat on, and we're going to drive to the hospital. Ronnie, can you call your brother, please?"
She nodded and reached for the phone.
"Tell him to stop here for you and Lincoln," he added, "we can't all fit in the car. As it is, Lynn might have to ride in the trunk."
While Ronnie Anne dialed Bobby's work number, Lynn Sr. went upstairs and into his room, where Rita was hurriedly putting her shoes on. Her hands trembled and her face was twisted in worry. "Calm down, honey," he said and grabbed his shoes. He sat next to her and pulled them on.
"I am calm," she said and got up.
"You don't look like it."
"Our first grandchild is on the way, what do you expect?"
"He or she won't drop out onto the floor in the next five minutes, Rita. We've been through this six times. You know as well as I do that it could be hours before she even goes into active labor."
Rita ignored him, grabbed her coat from the rack by the door, and shrugged it on. Lynn tied his laces, got up, and pulled his own jacket on. In the living room, Leni was sitting on the arm of the sofa, her hand squeezing Lori's. Rita squatted in front of her daughter; the girl was pale with fear. "How do you feel, sweetie?"
Lori nodded. "Okay, no pain or anything."
"Alright," Rita nodded and stood. "Luan, honey, go get in the car. You too, Lynn."
Lynn and Luan both nodded and rushed off, fighting and shoving to be the first one out the door. Lynn Sr. came downstairs. "Do you have my car keys, Lincoln?"
Lincoln patted his pockets, and for a horrible moment he didn't feel them, then he did; he slipped them out and tossed them; Dad caught them. "Alright, come on."
Following Mom and Dad, Lincoln and Leni helped Lori out the door. They had just stepped of the last tread when Lori hissed out in pain and clenched her siblings' hands: Leni yelped and Lincoln winced. "Ooooh, my back," Lori moaned, bowing her head. In a moment, the pain had passed, and they reached the car. Mom and Leni got into the back, while Lincoln helped Lori into the passenger seat; he was so afraid he was going to hurt her somehow that he felt cold. She sat on the edge of the seat facing out and tried to swing her legs in, but couldn't, so he knelt and pushed them in for her.
Dad leaned over the wheel. "Is Bobby coming?"
"Yeah," Ronnie Anne said. "He should be here in, like, fifteen minutes. I called my mom too. She said she'll meet you there."
"Alright," Dad said, "we're off."
Lincoln shut the door and Dad backed the car into the street. When it was gone, Ronnie Anne grabbed his hand. "Well, lame-o, looks like we're gonna meet the little guy soon."
"Little lady," Lincoln corrected.
Ronnie Anne narrowed her eyes. "Little guy."
Lincoln turned and arched his brow. "It's going to be a girl," he said. "Uncle's intuition."
"I say it's going to be a girl. Aunt's..."
Lincoln kissed her, and she kissed him back. "That's one way to shut me up, I guess," she said when it broke. "It's still gonna be a girl, though."
2:05pm
Bobby Santiago glanced at the clipboard in his hands and then up to the yawning maw of the truck backed into the loading dock. Boxes were stacked along either flank...but certainly not as many as there were supposed to be. "Let me see that invoice," he told the driver, a man with silvery hair and a dark mustache. He handed Bobby a yellow carbon copy, and Bobby scanned it. "It's not all here," he said.
"This is what you ordered," the driver said.
"No, Mr. Farris ordered twice this," he said, gesturing into the cargo bay with the clipboard. "I don't even have to go in there to know that this is half the order. It's not the first time it's happened." He was starting to get frustrated; though this was in no way his fault, he couldn't help but think it reflected badly on him, and he really needed things to go right. He had a wife and a kid on the way and he could not afford to look like a fuck up. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. This was stressful enough without stupid assholes like these jackoffs: Second time this month. Couldn't they fucking read over there?
The driver shrugged. "Look, mac, I just drive the truck. That's the invoice I got, if there was a snafu, it was in the office, not on the floor."
Bobby nodded grudgingly. "Alright, fine." He stepped into the back of the truck and did a quick inventory, checking the labels on the boxes against what was on the sheet before him. As he suspected, this was only half the order: Instead of four rolls of brown fabric, there were two; instead of ten crates of metal rail pieces, there were five. He told himself that he was completely blameless here and that there was no way Mr. Farris could blame him even if he wanted to, but his stomach still rolled with nerves. Every day brought him closer to being a father, and that scared the shit out of him. He didn't know how to be a father; his own father was a rotten no-good, and how the hell can you be a father – a real, good father – when you have no idea what the hell a real, good father is?
He wanted to be a good father, but he didn't know if he could be. Where do you start? What do you do? He had no clue. He told himself that it wouldn't be much different from having Ronnie Anne around...hell, he practically raised her...but he failed her in so many ways it made him feel ashamed, literally and thoroughly ashamed. He wasn't a father to her. He was barely an older brother. He was a failure.
And how would this time be any different? Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit...and Roberto Santiago was a piece of shit.
He shuddered as he checked off the last boxes on the inventory sheet. He told himself he would try his best, but would his best be good enough?
When he was done, he went into the office off the main floor, sat at a cluttered desk, and picked up the telephone. He dialed the supplier and waited, but no one answered. Goddamn idiots. Sighing, he slammed the phone down and got back up. The driver and a couple of Bobby's guys were unloading the truck, and he watched to make sure they put everything where it was supposed to go. The phone rang, and he went back into the office. He sat, picked up the phone, and prepared himself to ream out the shipping clerk. "Northern Woods Outlet," he said tightly.
"Bobby?"
It was Ronnie Anne.
"Yeah, it's me," he said, his brow furrowing. "What's up?"
"Lori's water just broke."
Bobby's grip on the phone tightened.
"They're going to the hospital right now. You have to stop by Lincoln's house and pick us up. They don't have enough room in the car."
Bobby's heart was racing now, and his palms were beginning to sweat. He drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Oh, God, it was happening...and he was not ready. "Uh, y-yeah, o-okay. I'll be there in a f-few minutes."
He hung up the phone and swallowed hard. His throat was dry and his stomach was a thresher of anxiety. He got up on shaky knees, and for a moment he was so dazed that he didn't know what to do. On the floor, he found Rick, his direct supervisor, and told him about Lori. "Alright, go," Rick said. "Call me when you know whether or not you'll be in tomorrow."
Outside, the clouds had broken and the day was sunny but cold. He slipped behind the wheel of the Coup and turned the key with trembling fingers.
Happening. It was happening. In a few short hours, if that, his life would change forever and he would be responsible – totally and completely responsible – for another human life. You could say that he had long been responsible for someone else, from Ronnie Anne to Lori, but this was different...this was...this was big.
Wrapped in worried silence and chewing his thumbnail, he drove over to Lincoln's house. He and Ronnie Anne were waiting on the porch, and when they saw him, they hurried over, Lincoln climbing in back and Ronnie Anne jumping in the passenger seat. Bobby waited until she had her door closed, then punched the gas. "How is she?" he asked.
"I think, uh, the contractions were starting," Ronnie Anne said. "She crushed Lincoln and Leni's hands."
"Yeah," Lincoln said, "something was happening."
Bobby started biting his nail again. He felt strange: Feverish on the outside and quivery on the inside, like Jell-O. He realized he was shaking, and made a conscious effort to stop. Lori and his baby needed him to man up; he was no good to them shaking in his boots like a weak sister. He reached into the breast pocket of his blue workshirt and pulled out a pack of Camels. He took one, put it between his lips, and lit it, the warm, smooth smoke rolling into his lungs and calming him – but only slightly. This was his baby – his baby with Lori, whom he loved – and being a good father, like love itself, would come naturally.
Mistakes would come naturally too.
He shoved that thought away. Everyone makes mistakes. He made mistakes with Ronnie Anne and that bothered him, but he would learn from those.
That's what growing up is all about, right?
3:00pm
The pain came in waves...a tight band of pressure starting in her stomach and wrapping around her back. When it hit, she squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her teeth; her body shook slightly and she crushed her mother's hand in her own. After thirty or fifty seconds, the pain would release, and she would suck in a great gulp of air. The room bustled with activity as nurses and doctors came and went. They said everything was fine...labor was progressing normally and there was no reason now to suspect that there would be any complications. "Smooth sailing ahead," the doctor said happily. Smooth? From what they told her, the pain was only going to get worse. How is that 'smooth'?
When the last contraction passed, she fought to catch her breath. "Relax, honey," Mom said. She was sitting next to the bed in a straight back chair. Everyone else was in the waiting room, having been chased out by a nurse, which told Rita that they expected the baby to come sooner rather than later.
"It hurts," Lori moaned.
Mom squeezed her and brushed her knuckles with her thumb. "I know, dear. Remember, I did this six times."
Lori wiped sweat from her brow. "Why?"
"You'll see."
Lori doubted that. Her mother must just be a glutton for pain. Not Lori. She would never have another child. Never. She flopped back against the pillow and swallowed against a tacky throat. A nurse was supposed to be bringing her a cup of water. Where was she? "Is Bobby here?" she asked suddenly.
"I think so," Mom said.
"Can he come in?"
"No, honey."
"But he's the father!"
"They don't want too many people in the way, Lori," Mom explained patiently. "Remember, they didn't even want me in here but I made a fuss and –"
Lori cut her off with a hissing cry as her body clenched. Her hand crunched Rita's. The contractions were getting closer together. A ghost of a smile touched Rita's lips; soon her grandchild would be here. "Is that one worse?" she asked.
Lori nodded quickly, her eyes shut tight.
A nurse took up position between Lori's legs, where were propped in an M, and checked. "Seven centimeters."
She was dilating quickly. With Luan, it took Rita nearly five hours to go from four to six, and another six to get from there to ten: It was not an easy delivery. Lori didn't know it, but she was extremely fortunate that things were going as well as they were. The only birth Rita could remember being as easy as this was Lincoln.
The contraction released, and Lori went limp against the bed with a groan. "I want it to stop," she said. She lifted her hand to her forehead, which shone with sweat under the harsh lights. Her bangs were matted and the neck of her white hospital johnnie was damp with perspiration.
"Soon," Rita said, and squeezed. "Soon it'll be all over and you'll have the most precious thing in the world in your arms. And you know what? It'll all be worth it."
"I h –" Lori's body seized, and her hand clamped down much harder than it had before. She cried out through clenched teeth and shook her head violently. A nurse checked between her legs.
"Nine centimeters. I'll get the doctor."
Rita smiled at her daughter. "It's happening, honey. You're having your baby."
Lori, panting, just nodded...then jolted as another contraction hit: This time a scream burst from her throat, and she made no attempt to hold it back.
3:15pm
Lynn Loud Sr. sat in the waiting room, his elbows on his knees and his hands in a prayer-like gesture, his thumbs hooked under his chin and his nose between his fingers. Next to him, Leni was hurriedly finishing the coming home outfit, her hands flying and her tongue plastered determinedly to her upper lip. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne sat side-by-side across from Luan, whose arms and legs were crossed: The boy and girl held hands and talked lowly. Lynn Jr. paced back and forth, his hands on his hips. He was restless: They had been in the waiting room for close to an hour and boredom was starting to set in.
Bobby, the man of the hour, sat next to his mother, smoking one cigarette after another and chewing his nails. Aside from Lincoln and Ronnie Anne, no one spoke, and the silence was starting to grate on Lynn's nerves. Anyone passing by could easily mistake them as the family of a dying man instead of a woman giving birth. "Where's Luna?" he asked. "Can we reach her? She should really be here."
"She's with her boyfriend," Luan said.
"I understand that. Where? Is there a number?"
Bobby stabbed his latest Camel out in a glass ashtray on the table and got up. "I can call him," he said, "see if he's in."
Before anyone could speak, he hurried out of the waiting room and down the hall, to a payphone by the nurses' station. He needed to be away for a minute, up, walking, moving, something, anything but sitting there and worrying. A few minutes ago, he heard someone screaming in the distance, and it sounded like it might have been Lori: That made him even more jittery than he was before, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down into a nervous wreck. He was sweating and cold and anxious and excited and a thousand other things, and who was he calling?
Daggy, that's right.
He picked up the handset, deposited his dime, and dialed.
When she wasn't in school, Luna was with Daggy – except for Sundays and days he worked late. She kept Sundays for family time, and he couldn't very well tell his boss to take a hike when he needed him to work overtime. That didn't happen too often, so they spend most afternoons together. On Fridays and Saturdays, they went to the movies or into Detroit just because. On weekdays, they cruised, had lunch at Flip's or something, smoked reefer, played guitar, and had sex. Here and there she'd bring him to one of her gigs – in September she started playing at a bar in town every other Friday night, and everybody seemed to enjoy her stuff, so that was cool. Today, December 18, he picked up her around eight and for a while they drove aimlessly around, listening to the radio and passing a joint back and forth. If it was warmer they would have gone to the lake or to the park, but it wasn't, so they wound up at Flip's.
"Well, if it isn't reefer madness," he said.
That made Luna and Daggy laugh their asses off because Reefer Madness was one of the movies they saw at the drive-in's after midnight showings, when they played cult and exploitation movies. It was one of the only movies that they actually watched all the way through (without, you know, getting handsy) because it was so fucking campy and over-the-top they couldn't look away: It showed people smoking reefer and killing each other, raping each other, hallucinating, and going just batshit crazy. It was a riot. The only other movie they saw that even came close was Plan 9 from Outer Space.
"You two are baked," Flip said, and chuckled. "What do you want? Ice cream?"
Daggy looked at her. His eyes were glassy. "What do you want?"
"I dunno, man, isn't it breakfast time?"
Daggy looked up at Flip. "What time is it?"
"Ten-thirty."
"Ten-thirty," Daggy told her.
She shrugged. "I dunno. I want a chocolate shake. Oh, yeah, and a burger. I'll take a burger." She nodded slowly at looked up at Flip, then laughed when he shook his head.
"Give me a burger too," Daggy said, "and put fries on it."
Luna snickered.
"On it?" Flip asked.
Daggy nodded. "Yeah, man, on it. Like a condiment."
"Why don't you order fries and then do it yourself?"
"Because I don't feel like paying for French fries."
He and Luna laughed and laughed and laughed. "Alright, fine," Flip said. Unbeknownst to Daggy, the fries he put on his burger came from a plate one of the waitresses brought back. Not that he would have cared.
"How's your sister doing?"
Luna nodded. "She's good, she's good. She's big. Man, I didn't think she'd get that big. She's always been really scrawny, you know?"
"Yeah, she is really skinny," Daggy said. "Or was. I haven't seen her big." The last time he saw Lori was when Luna's parents invited him over for dinner a couple months back, and she had a stomach, which, you know, is to be expected, but it wasn't like 'oh, my God, you're big.' He kind of wanted to see it for himself.
"Her feet are all swollen too," Luna said. Daggy winced, and she laughed. "And she's been really gassy lately. The whole house reeks."
Daggy coughed and waved his hand. "Stop, I can fucking smell it now."
Flip came back with their food, setting a plate in front of each of them. "Where's my shake?" Luna asked.
"Right in front of you."
Luna turned her head, and there it was, little whip cream topping and maraschino cherry and everything. "Oh, there it is." She didn't remember anyone setting it down. She must have been, like, preoccupied or something. She picked it up and went to take a sip, but the straw jabbed her in the chin.
Flip shook his head. "I hope you two never have kids."
"Whoa," Daggy said, putting his hands up, "slow down, man. You're putting the horse before the cart."
Flip blinked. "First, it's putting the cart before the horse, and second, that's not what that saying means. Use protection. Please."
"Too late," Luna snorted.
"Hey," Daggy said, "I pull –"
"Eat your food and get the hell out of my place," Flip said, holding up his hand. Muttering under his breath, he went away, and they fell in, ripping, rending, and slopping like they were starving.
When they were done, they paid and left. They made their way to Daggy's, where they parked in front of the TV and sparked another joint. There was nothing good playing, so they settled for Love of Life on CBS, one of those awful soap operas Leni, Lori, and Mom liked so much. "Why does that guy walk like he has a stick up his ass?" Daggy asked, taking a drag and handing her the joint.
Luna took it and inhaled. "I don't know," she said, then blew out a thin plume of smoke. "I think he's a veteran or something."
Daggy nodded. "My old man fought in Korea. He said those drill sergeants fuck you up the ass from the moment you get there to the moment you leave. I didn't think he meant it literally."
When the joint was down to a nub, he put it out in an ashtray and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling warm and happy, and together they fell into a fitful sleep. At some point they woke and started kissing, their hands creeping over each others' bodies. They moved to the bedroom, ripping their clothes off as they went, and stretched out on the bed, their rapidly heating flesh pressed together and their tongues lashing the other with fervent urgency. Luna shifted onto him and reared up, sighing and throwing her head back as his fingers danced over her bare breasts. She bent and laid her hands flat on his chest as she moved her hips against him; hot iron scraped damp silk, and they both gasped.
Luna looked into his eyes and grinned. In the past seven months, she had discovered she liked sex...a lot. Not just because it felt good (which it totally did) but because when it was just her and him, she was the only thing in his world. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed: His eyes, his body, his everything was focused on her and her alone, and that was a beautiful feeling. She lifted her hips, found his member, and slowly, teasingly sank down onto it, his sick heat combing with hers and making them both lightheaded.
She bowed her head and rock her hips against his, then back, then forward again.
The phone rang.
His hands crept to her butt and squeezed.
Brrrrrng.
She increased her speed, and the bed started to creak.
Brnnnng-brnnng-brnnng.
She stopped, her mouth dry and her heart slamming. "G-Get that fucking phone," she panted.
Licking his lips and never taking his eyes from hers (which really turned her on), he reached for the phone, fumbled with the handset, and lifted it to his ear. "What?"
His brows furrowed. "Yeah. Why?"
The sensation of him filling her was too much to take, and she started to grind against him.
"Oh, shit," he said, his eyes widening, "yeah, we'll be right there." He hung the phone up. "Come on, we gotta go."
"What? Why? I'm almost there."
"Your sister's having her baby. Everyone's at the hospital."
"Shit," Luna said. She jumped off and started gathering her clothes while Daggy pulled on his jeans. She found her jeans, her sweater, and her shoes, and hurriedly dressed, not bothering to look for her socks and underwear: It wouldn't be the first time she left those here.
"Looks like you're gonna be aunt Luna today," Daggy said in the car.
"Yeah, man, I'm pretty excited," she said. She liked kids...and the best part of being an aunt, as far as she could tell, was this: At the end of the day, after playing and hanging out...she could hand little Bobby Jr. back to mommy.
Best of both worlds.
"You gonna teach 'em guitar?"
"Yeah," she said. "He can be my bassist."
"What about me?" he asked.
Luna snickered. "You got a job already; you're my groupie."
Daggy shrugged. "Alright. I can live with that."
3:40pm
"Gahhhhhhh, shit!"
Rita stood by the head of the bed, her right hand being crunched to dust by Lori's iron grip, and the other dabbing the girl's sweaty forehead with a wet cloth. A doctor and a team of nurses were bent between Lori's legs. The girl panted and clenched the rail with her free hand; her knuckles were white and bloodless. "Alright, Lori," the doctor said, "give me a big push."
Lori took a series of deep breaths and pushed, her eyes and teeth clenching, a long, low moan escaping past her lips. Rita stroked her daughter's hair. "It's almost over, honey," she said.
"That bastard!" Lori screamed, her body hitching. "He's never touching me again!"
Rita remembered saying that same thing when she was giving birth to Lori...and to Leni...and to Luna...
"It's crowning," the doctor said, "keep pushing."
Lori took another deep breath and pushed, her entire body tensing. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails against her pallid skin. The burning, stinging pain was unlike anything she had ever felt in her life: It was as though she were being ripped in half. She could imagine her bones cracking and her flesh tearing. Another contraction hit her, and hot, red agony filled her brain. She pushed with it.
When it released, she sucked a big gulp of air: Her heart knocked and she felt like she was going to pass out. Her mother ran her fingers through her sweaty hair, and she looked up at her: Mom smiled and squeezed her hand. Lori was grateful to have her here.
Another contraction hit, and she pushed really hard...a strange sensation filled her, and suddenly the pain was over and she flopped against the pillow, totally drained. Thin, warbling cries filled the room. "It's a boy," the doctor said.
Emotion filled Lori, and she started to cry. One of the nurses wrapped him in a blue blanket and shoved him into Lori's arms: She cried harder when she laid eyes on his pink face: His eyes were closed but his lips worked as he fussed.
"Oh, he's beautiful," Mom marveled.
And he was...the most beautiful thing Lori had ever seen. She held him to her chest and stroked his head. "Shh-hh," she whispered through her tears, "mommy's here."
3:55pm
Bobby stabbed his last cigarette out and crossed his legs. Until a few minutes ago, screams drifted up and down the hall...then, suddenly, they stopped. Did that mean something was wrong? Was she okay? Was their baby okay? His mother laid her and on his leg, and he jumped. "Relax," she said, "you look like you're going to have a heart attack."
"Yeah, relax," Daggy said. He was slouched on Bobby's other side, his arms crossed and his right foot resting against his left knee. Luna was sitting between Luan and Leni, and the girls prattled to one another: Leni had finished the coming home outfit, and it sat on the table. Bobby studied it now. HAPPY CHRISTMAS, MARRY NEW YEAR. It was kind of cute. "You're being a total spaz."
Bobby shot him a dirty look. "One day, it's gonna be your turn, and I'm gonna say the same thing."
Daggy opened his mouth to reply, but didn't. He was going to say something about how he didn't make mistakes, but that sounded a whole lot worse than he intended it to.
Lincoln was leaning forward, his forearms on his thighs. He held Ronnie Anne's hand, and both of them looked nervous.
When Rita appeared, everyone looked up. "Who wants to meet Lori's baby?"
Five minutes later, they crowded around a hospital bed with metal railings along the sides. Lori held a blue bundle to her chest and rocked slightly, her eyes glued to it and her lips moving as she cooed to it. She looked up, and seemed surprised that everyone was there. She looked for Bobby, and smiled. "There's daddy," she said lowly.
He came forward on numb legs. "Here," she said, "do you want to hold your son?"
Bobby nodded, a lump in his throat. She handed him the baby, and he took him with the care and caution one would use with something glass and endlessly valuable. When he looked down at the child, his eyes flooded with hot tears, and he didn't try to fight them back.
Ronnie Anne punched Lincoln's arm. "I told you it was going to be a boy," she said.
"Up top," Lynn said, raising his hand. Ronnie Anne slapped it.
"I guess we were wrong, Linc," Luan said, and squeezed his shoulder.
Lynn Sr. slipped his arm around Rita's shoulder, and together they watched Lori and Bobby fawning over their baby. "Do you remember when that was us?" Lynn asked.
Rita nodded, a tear in her eye. "Yes. It doesn't seem like it was that long ago. Now our babies are starting to have babies."
He rubbed her arm and drew her close. It didn't seem like it was all that long ago Rita was in Lori's spot, cradling Lori to her chest while Lynn stood where Bobby stood, nervous as hell but so happy he wept. Twenty-one years as the crow flies. Once, he thought that was a long time, and when you're young maybe it is, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not. It's a twinkling of an eye.
Over the next half hour, everyone took turns holding the baby, Ronnie Anne's mother going first, than Lynn, then the kids (Rita had her turn, so she was skipped). Luna offered him to Daggy, but Daggy put his hands up, his face going white. "No, no, I'm afraid I'll drop him or something."
When they left an hour later, Lori was asleep with the baby on her chest, and Bobby was stretched out next to them, his eyes filled with shimmery adoration. He wasn't worried about being a fuck up anymore, because looking into his baby's face, he knew that he could never let this little man down...never, never, never.
In the waiting room, Lincoln held Ronnie Anne's hand and squeezed it. Her mother waited by the elevator. "Pretty cool, huh?" asked. "Our nephew?"
"Yeah," she said with a smile, "it is pretty cool."
As he watched Lori and Bobby with Bobby Jr., he couldn't help wonder what it would be like to have a baby with Ronnie Anne. Scary, because it was a baby and all, but beautiful, but it would be theirs, their love and devotion to one another made flesh. He smiled widely now. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and kissed her forehead.
"Not if I see you first," she grinned, and pecked him on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too," he said.
For some reason, parting, watching the elevator doors close on her, was much harder than usual. That night, as he lay in bed, he imagined them with a baby, and that was what he carried into sleep with him.
His and Ronnie Anne's love child.
- 19
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Reeling in the Years