An Old Friend: Version B Part 22

As the hot days of Summer passed and finally turned into the more pleasant days of Autumn, Michael noticed Lisa's physical health seemed to take a turn for the better as well. The month of October was well underway and she was now in her fourth month of pregnancy. The nausea which plagued her greatly in the mornings had let up considerably and she seemed to have more energy. She had borrowed a book from the library about pregnancy and had read the symptoms usually ease up considerably during the second trimester. Michael noticed that seemed the case with her. He was just glad she was feeling better; he hated seeing her in such distress.

Although she insisted she was getting by just fine on her own, he still made a point to be around for her as much as possible. That summer he had been meeting with Terries Jones and Gilliam, Graham, Eric, and Neil Innes for writing sessions on another series of Flying Circus. The energy and composition of the meetings were no doubt different without John there, and Michael had to admit he was a bit unsure of how successful their venture would be without their group's most senior member. Nevertheless, he believed they still had enough inspiration and juice in their batteries for at least one more series and he was glad the others seemed as game as he was.

As the weeks went by, their writing sessions turned into filming sessions and finally videotaping at the studio. They had just taped the first episode, 'The Golden Age of Ballooning.' After the session had ended, Michael had met the others for a drink at a pub a block over. Everyone was there save Eric, who seemed rather unsociable and left in his car after an abrupt goodbye. Michael started wondering if it had something to do with the show, but immediately stopped himself from dwelling on it as Neil approached him with a second pint and toasted them all to a job well done.

Michael wasn't sure how the time had flown so quickly, but it was near eleven o'clock when he finally left the pub, got in his car and made the drive home. The peaceful, alcohol-induced buzz which had enveloped his mind had abruptly evaporated and was overtaken by a sense of worry, perhaps near panic. He had promised Lisa he'd be home as soon as the taping had ended, and it was now almost two hours later. What if she was feeling ill? Would she be upset with him for abandoning her in such a condition? What if she needed to go to the hospital ….?

“Oh, God. Sod off, you stupid git,” he muttered angrily to himself, glad no one was in the car with him lest they find him absolutely insane. He couldn't believe he was thinking so irrationally. Why would Lisa need to be taken to the hospital? She was only four months pregnant. She certainly didn't seem to be ill when he'd left earlier.

'But you never know what could happen,' an irritating little voice echoed inside his head. Michael gritted his teeth in frustration. It was like an annoying little insect that he wanted to swat.

Not a moment too soon, he finally arrived in front of the house and parked the car, hurrying as he leaped out onto the pavement and rushed to the front door. He fumbled with the keys as he attempted to unlock the door. Noticing his hands shaking a bit, he stopped and took in a deep breath to calm himself. Surely Lisa would find him daft for acting like this.

Taking another deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair before finally inserting the key and opening the door. He was only inside about ten seconds when Lisa suddenly rushed up to him, throwing her arms around him.

Michael's eyes widened, nearly having been caught off balance. He recovered as her lips captured his in a tender kiss that deepened as she tightened her grip on him and then began twisting her fingers through his hair. Michael brought his own hands up and started smoothing down her own long, wavy hair.

Attempting to catch his breath, he gently separated from her and gazed into her eyes. “Oh, well, if that's the sort of greeting I'm going to get, I'll have to stay out late more often,” he joked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a grin. He caught her rolling her eyes briefly and she'd swatted him lightly before her smile returned. She was gazing at him so lovingly, her face glowing.

Michael felt his own smile falter and his brow furrow in confusion. He thought for certain she'd be put off by his late return home. “I don't understand. You're not cross with me for getting home so late?”

“Oh, you silly man! Why would I have any reason to be cross with you?”

“Oh, I don't know … perhaps because you're pregnant and expecting your husband to be looking after you and helping you round the house a bit more?”

She gave him another playful swat. “Michael, please. I'm pregnant, I'm not gravely ill. And I've only just entered my second trimester. It's not as though I'm due any day now. I appreciate your being here for me and all your concern, but I think you can relax a bit.”

Finally feeling the last bit of nervousness leave him, he offered her a sheepish smile. “Alright. I'm sorry for being such a pest, love.”

Lisa leaned forward, giving him a quick little peck on the lips. “Don't be sorry. To be honest I find your concern adorable.” Upon hearing this Michael felt his cheeks grow warm. Lisa gave him a playful little wink and then started off in the direction of the lounge. “Oh, I wanted to show you something,” she said over her shoulder. He watched her walk over to one of the end tables and bend to pick up a stack of papers. “I found these and was wondering what they were. They're quite interesting.”

Sitting down on the sofa, he accepted the papers from her and scanned them. A smile spread across his face as he realized they were some old notes from an early draft of Holy Grail. “Oh, these are from our rough draft of the Grail script,” he said softly. Turning to her, he gestured for her to join him and she sat against him. “We wrote this about fifteen months or so before filming began, so it's a very rudimentary version of the script. Back then, we'd thought of making it half medieval and half modern. It involved the Grail turning up in Harrods.”

Lisa regarded him curiously for a brief moment and then started giggling. Michael quirked an eyebrow, a bit surprised at first she'd found it so amusing but then finding it sort of endearing.

He continued reading through the notes and realized this section was about Sir Galahad. It involved him going outside and singing a lovely little song as he was joined by a group of kids. It was a rather simple song where he'd attempted to spell out the letters of his name but got stuck and the kids had started laughing. In reaction he'd taken an angry swipe at them.

Lisa had started giggling even more. Apparently she'd read the whole thing. Michael's cheeks were now on fire.

“I thought that was a cute little bit. You said it was a rough draft, but has it survived for the film?”

“Er, no, that bit was abandoned long before we finished the final script.”

“Aw,” she intoned, disappointed and giving him a mock pout. “I would have loved to have seen you do a scene like that. Minus the angry swipe at the kids, of course.”

Michael chuckled softly. “Yes. Thinking on it, that would seem a bit out of character for Galahad, wouldn't it? I think it would fit Lancelot better. The most I could see Galahad do is stand there, hands on hips and give them a campy, 'Oh, shut up!'”

Lisa started giggling again, at first throwing her head back and then doubling over in laughter. Seeing her so amused was contagious and he started laughing as well. He waited for her to calm a bit and then looked at the notes again.

“Hm.... G is for the Holy Grail, A is for A Quest,” he began to sing softly. “L is for … L is for my Lady Lisa...” He began nuzzling her and then tickling her on the side of her neck, causing her to squeal and then double over laughing again. Finally she fell against him, her laughter easing up as she took a few deep breaths. She sat up and gazed into his eyes for a moment before pulling him close to her and covering his lips with her own for another deep kiss.

After a few moments of ecstasy, he felt her weaken and he separated from her. “Oh, I'm really loving this side of you, Lisa,” he told her. “Not that you were never this way before, of course. But it seems much more … pronounced of late.”

She lifted her gaze thoughtfully. “Mm. I suppose it's due to the pregnancy. I've read you can feel new sensations and that feelings you've had before become much more pronounced. Oh, which reminds me … I decided to whip up a nice loaf of bread earlier this evening. I found Mum's old book of recipes and decided I'd try my hand at some almond scones as well.”

“Oh, so that's what I thought I smelt as I walked through the door. I reckoned you'd tried a new perfume, something like Eau d' Patisserie.”

She'd briefly rolled her eyes at him and her grin faded. “I suppose it's too late for you to have some now, but perhaps tomorrow morning or at tea time, yeah?”

The almost hopeful smile on her face endeared him so much, and he did have to admit she was a good cook. “Mm. Of course, love,” he replied, smiling and then tracing her jawline with his finger before kissing her tenderly on the lips.

March 3, 1975

Sitting on the sofa in Terry Jones' lounge, Michael sipped from his teacup thoughtfully. He had gathered there with the other Pythons (except for John) to discuss some upcoming plans for travel abroad and film premieres. Holy Grail was due to open in London about a month from now, but it was also being distributed in the States and the first premiere would be just over a week from now in Los Angeles. Not only that, but public television stations across the States had been transmitting Flying Circus since last Autumn, and they were going to visit the various stations to promote it. He and the others had met to discuss plans and finalize just who would be attending these premieres and promotional visits.

Eric was now in the middle of some discussion involving finance, or at least that's what it sounded like. Michael's mind had quickly drifted away and he found himself thinking about Lisa. She'd seemed to have grown more domestic as well as amorous, both of which Michael found quite endearing and appealing, in that order.

The rest of her pregnancy has gone rather smoothly and each of her doctor visits had confirmed this. Both mummy-to-be and baby seemed quite healthy. The only mysteries remaining were the sex of the baby – with which Michael was absolutely fine – and just when he or she would be making that grand entrance. Thinking on that brought up an important question related to their travel plans. The baby was due roughly a week from now and he really wanted to be there. Was there any way he could get out of going with the other Pythons to the States? They were due to be in New York five days from now.

A nudge on his shoulder suddenly threw him out of his reverie and he turned to find Terry Jones gazing at him pointedly. The abruptness of the whole thing made him yelp. “What?” he asked sheepishly.

Terry gestured over to Eric, who was also regarding Mike impatiently. “You've anything to add, Mike?”

Noticing the expectant looks on his friends' faces, Michael realized he hadn't heard a word of what Eric had said. He felt sort of helpless and even more embarrassed. He did the only thing he could do at this moment.

“I dunno,” he muttered, shrugging. “It's all very well, I suppose ...”

He watched Eric quirk an eyebrow at him. “So, you've absolutely no problem with the idea of bringing enough prostitutes for each of you during the promotion in the States … and we can count you amongst the 'Ayes' for double that amount during each of the premieres of Grail.”

Michael's eyes widened in shock. “What? No!” he blurted.

Eric rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath which Michael had missed.

“Mike, what's going on with you?” Graham suddenly asked, removing his pipe from his mouth. “You seem about a million miles away.”

Michael sighed, eyeing them all tentatively. There was no point in keeping this from them. They had to know, especially as things needed to be finalized immediately with their travels mere days away. “I've just had much to think about of late – perhaps too much. I hope none of you will be cross with me over what I'm about to suggest, but … Is there any way at all I can get out of going with you to the States next week? The baby is due very soon and I'd rather be here with Lisa, you understand.”

He winced slightly in anticipation of their reactions, but, as it turned out, he had little to worry about. Gazing at each of his friends, their expressions were a mix of concern, perhaps a bit of reluctance but also some resignation.

Eric sighed. “We understand, Mike. Believe me, we do. If I could take your place I would do it, but the filming schedule for Rutland Weekend Television won't allow for it. As much as I tried, everyone's availability wouldn't let me change anything. And then there's the fact that John isn't going, which of course isn't really a negative ...” The corner of his mouth twitched into a wry smirk of sorts.

For a moment, Michael allowed himself a hint of a grin and chuckled softly at Eric's suggestion, but his discomfort with the overall subject returned.

“Without you, it will just be me, Graham and Terry,” Terry Gilliam spoke up. “As much as I don't like to admit it, you're popular, Mike. You've played some of the most recognizable characters: the It's Man, the shopkeeper in Dead Parrot, the Lumberjack, Gumby, Arthur Pewty … And us?” He gestured to himself, Graham and Terry Jones. “All we've got between us are Arthur 'Two Sheds' Jackson, the Colonel and a random guy in armor who smacks people with chickens.” He grinned self-deprecatingly.

Michael grinned back and rolled his eyes. “Oh, you silly git. You don't give yourselves enough credit.” He appreciated his friend's use of humor as encouragement, but he supposed he was right. He did have some level of recognition on the show; not that he wanted to seem conceited, of course. Sighing, he decided it probably would be a good idea for him to show up.

He sighed. “I suppose you're right. I just hate the thought of leaving Lisa here alone. I really hope she will understand.” He lifted his teacup to his mouth, taking another sip. He grimaced, realizing the tea had gone cold.

Before anything else could be said, the jangle of Terry Jones' phone suddenly pierced the silence. Michael jumped and managed to drop the teacup, which shattered into pieces on Terry's coffee table. “Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Terry!”

Terry looked as if he were about to have a stroke as he glared at Michael, but the shrill ring of the telephone drew his attention and he crept over to the end table to pick it up.

“Hello? … I'm sorry, who is this?”

Michael felt his eyes narrow as he listened in, able to faintly hear the sounds of a woman speaking loudly and frantically on the other end.

“I'm sorry, perhaps you have the wrong number?” The woman continued speaking quickly and Michael watched Terry struggle to hear her. “Whose friend? Oh, Lisa's friend ...” Michael's eyes widened upon hearing her name. “Wait, hang on.” He covered the end of the phone with his hand and looked at Michael. “Some lady called Tricia?” he muttered quietly.

Suddenly feeling his heart speed up, Michael nodded. “Yes, she's Lisa's friend. She was over visiting,” he replied quickly.

Terry nodded and turned back to the phone. “Wait, slow down, love. I can't make out what you're saying ...”

The longer Michael watched and listened, the more nervous he got. “Alright, I'll tell him straight away. Yes, I'm sure he'll be there as soon as possible,” he heard Terry say before hanging up the phone. Okay, that made him even more nervous. Gazing at the floor, he bit his lip.

Hearing Terry hang up the phone, his gaze flew back up to his friend. Terry stood there, slack-jawed, almost as if he had been caught off guard by what was shared with him.

Michael's legs felt as though they were made of jelly as he rushed up to Terry. “What is it? What happened?” he asked.

Terry finally turned to him, still appearing in a bit of a trance. “Er, well, Mike … What we were just discussing earlier … It seems you no longer have to worry.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing him impatiently.  “Say again? In English this time, Terry?”

Terry heaved a sigh and ran a hand back over his hair. “She's taken Lisa to hospital.”

Michael felt his jaw drop to the floor as his mind started reeling with all sorts of scenarios. Why did Lisa need to be taken there? The baby wasn't due for another week yet. Could something be wrong?? He frantically tried to calm himself down. “Did she say anything else?” he asked quietly.

Terry shook his head. “No, just that she's taken her to hospital. That was all. She was quite frantic, if it means anything ...”

“'If it means anything?!' Do you hear yourself, you stupid bloody tosser?!” Michael said angrily.

Taking a deep breath, he noticed the hurt expression on Terry's face and realized he'd overstepped. “Sorry, Terry,” he muttered. “Shouldn't have gone off on you like that.” He caught Terry's nod and turned to look at the others. They all seemed a bit surprised by Mike's reaction but perhaps a bit understanding as well. “I've got to go,” he continued, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

“We understand, Mike,” Graham spoke up. “Just be careful driving. We'd not like to have to visit two patients in hospital, if you get my meaning.”

Michael allowed himself a small twitch of the lips resembling a smile. “Yes, I do. And yes, I will.” Throwing his coat on, he swung the door open and was about to leave when Eric strode up to him.

“Take it easy, Mike,” he said softly, patting Michael's arm. “I hope Lisa is alright.”

Michael gazed at him for a moment before nodding. “So do I,” he finally replied before exiting the house and running over to his car.

Finally having found a place to park outside the hospital, Michael rushed through the doors, jolting in surprise as the door swung back and nearly hit the back of his foot. He felt a blush rising into his cheeks as he caught the surprised expressions of those sitting in the reception area. He needed to calm down, but didn't he have good reason to act this way? Surely he wasn't the first man whose wife was expecting and was concerned about her state, or waiting for her to give birth. He'd already had to explain that excuse to the policeman who nearly pulled him over for speeding and overtaking several cars. Come to think of it, he was lucky he'd arrived in one piece. He hoped more than anything that Lisa and the baby were alright.

He swiftly approached the reception desk and found a middle-aged nurse sitting there, reading a magazine and looking quite bored.

“Excuse me,” he breathed. The woman looked up, raising her eyebrows curiously. “I'm looking for a Lisa Palin. I'm her husband. She was brought in earlier by a friend, Tricia Hardy. She's very pregnant.” He winced, realizing just how stupid that sounded. She's 'very pregnant'???

Fortunately, the woman appeared to understand. The grin on her face seemed almost sympathetic; she must have been used to this sort of thing by now. “Ah, yes. May I see some identification, please?”

Michael stared at her, dazed for a moment before her question finally registered. Nodding, he turned and grabbed his driver's license from his wallet, presenting it to her. The nurse studied it and, seeming satisfied, nodded at him. “From Monty Python, eh?” she suddenly asked, a lopsided grin on her face.

“Er, yes, that's right.”

“My son David watched your program all the time. He's seventeen.”

Michael gave her a sheepish smile. “Oh.” It was nice to meet fans, or their family as the case was, but there were more pressing issues at the moment. “Er, my wife??”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, Lisa Palin. She's in Maternity. Second floor.”

Michael let that word sink in. Maternity. Could that mean … ? He gazed at the nurse, a million questions jumbled into his head. “Do you know if everything's alright? Her friend phoned but I wasn't given much information … actually I wasn't given any information at all. I'm just ...” He stopped, nervously running a hand through his hair. “... Very concerned.”

The nurse gave him what looked like an apologetic smile. “I understand but I'm just reception. I don't have any information as to her condition. They'll tell you more at the nurse's station up there.” She gestured to the lift at the far end of the room.

“Alright, thank you,” Michael nodded as he set off in that direction.

Once he arrived on the second floor and swiftly exited the lift, he found a group of three nurses behind a large desk at what must have been the nurse's station.

“Hello, I'm looking for my wife, Lisa Palin. She was brought in earlier by a friend and the nurse at reception told me you could help me?” He winced inwardly at the way his voice sounded so shaky. But again, these women had to be used to this sort of thing as well.

A thin, blonde nurse with eyeglasses smiled and nodded. “Ah, yes.”

“Well? What can you tell me about her? Is she alright?”

“Yes, she's fine. She'd gone into labor,” the nurse replied.

Michael didn't know how long he'd stood there, frozen in place as the words sunk in. Lisa had gone into labor? The baby was ready to be born? A slew of worrying thoughts suddenly began plaguing him. He'd read in one of the pregnancy books about babies being born prematurely, as well as situations where the baby – or the mother – did not survive the delivery. Shocked that he'd even think this way, he scolded himself, wishing he could stab his brain with a blunt instrument in order to make it shut up. The fact that he normally wasn't one to worry to this extent left him overly concerned. He supposed it proved just how very much he cared for both Lisa and their soon-to-be-born baby. Still, he knew there was no point in worrying so much.

He felt someone grabbing the sleeve of his coat and it brought him back to Earth. “Sir?” one of the nurses asked.

He turned to face her. “Hm? Oh. Sorry. I got lost for a moment there.”

“Quite alright,” she smiled. “Your wife is in room 218. I was just about to check on her again if you wish to come along.”

“Of course,” he replied, nodding. She gestured for him to follow her and he did so obediently. Nearing the doorway, he peered inside and found it a rather sunny, cheerful looking room. There were two beds at opposite ends of the room, but only one was full. His gaze immediately flew over to it where he found his lovely wife, clad in a white hospital gown. Her face was bathed in a sheen of sweat and was nearly beet red, but she still looked beautiful. He couldn't stop the fond smile that tugged at his lips.

Michael hung back as the nurse greeted her and proceeded to check her vitals. She also seemed to be asking Lisa a series of questions, most likely related to the contractions she had to have been experiencing.

“Missus Palin, everything looks fine. And if you're up to it, you've got another visitor.” The nurse smiled and gestured toward the doorway where Michael stood anxiously.

He watched as Lisa's gaze met his and an emotional smile broke out on her face. Turning back to the nurse, she giggled slightly. “Yes, of course!”

Taking that as his cue, Michael smiled and entered the room, coming around to the side of her bed and taking a seat in one of the blue plastic chairs. Lisa moved to the edge of the bed and reached out to hug him, which he did, gently so as not to make her too uncomfortable. After a moment he pulled back and, moving some of the damp hair away from her cheek, gave her a gentle kiss.

“I'm so glad you're here, Michael,” she said, or rather, croaked. A blush diffused across her cheeks and she cleared her throat.

“I wouldn't dream of not being here with you, love,” he replied softly, his heart overflowing with emotion as he gazed at her.

“I suppose you got Tricia's message? I'd told her you were at Terry's house.”

“Yes.” He suddenly looked around. “I suppose she's gone home?”

“No, she went to get a bite to eat in the cafeteria.”

“Ah. Anyway, yes, she'd phoned Terry and he couldn't quite make out what she was saying at first, but we were finally able to decipher it. I left as soon as he relayed the message. I dodged the London traffic and an irate policeman on my way over. Fortunately I made it in one piece,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cheeky grin.

The weak smile on her face suddenly turned into a stern frown. “I don't want to know how many traffic rules you broke on your way over here.”

He giggled. “Well, I'm glad to see your condition still affords you a bit of humor.” He gave her a playful wink.

She'd started to give him a swat when she suddenly reacted as if a jolt hit her and she doubled over in pain. “Ooh!!”

The nurse was immediately at her side. “Another contraction,” she said after a while. “How far apart are they now?”

“Er … About three minutes.”

“Three minutes?” Michael parroted, his eyes widening. “You've been keeping track?”

She nodded, her face even more reddened and contorted in distress. “Agh!!!” she cried out again, doubling over once more.

Michael moved back to allow the nurse access to her. He turned his head as she bent down as if to examine Lisa.

“She's fully dilated. I think the baby is ready!”

“What?” Michael cried, his voice rising about an octave. He looked from the nurse to Lisa, almost stumped as to what he should do. It didn't feel like this was really happening. He ran a hand through his hair and tossed it back from his face. “Wh-what do I … what do you need me to do?”

“Sit with her and hold her hand. Coax her to push.” The nurse demonstrated to Michael how he should behave with Lisa and help her through the delivery.

Michael's attention was divided between Lisa and the nurse's instructions. He'd vaguely heard what she said, but hadn't been paying much attention. He hoped he wouldn't foul this up.

Easing back down onto the plastic chair, he scooted over to be closer to Lisa and gently reached out to take her left hand. “I'm here, love. Don't worry. You and baby are going to be just fine,” he coaxed her softly, briefly turning her hand over and planting a soft kiss on the back of it.

Lisa had briefly met his gaze and he could see her eyes filled with tears as her lips quickly twitched into a little smile. “I love you,” she blurted before doubling over once again and crying out.

“I love you, too,” he replied, his voice faltering somewhat. It didn't appear as if she'd heard him, but he didn't care. She was trying her hardest to push, the nurse now on the opposite side of her. “Push, love. Push,” he directed her softly. “You're doing wonderfully. Pu---- Aaaah!”

Michael felt his eyes bugging out as Lisa had grabbed his hand so hard, he was afraid she'd break it. Finally, she'd relaxed her grip on his hand and briefly turned to offer him a look of apology.

“No worries, my hand is still intact,” he joked. She barely let out a giggle before the baby got her attention again and she turned back to resume pushing. This time Michael was thankful she'd grabbed the side of the chair and not his hand.

“Okay, love, you're doing beautifully.” The nurse was now by Lisa's feet and had gestured to Michael, pointing to a specific area. Moving over slightly, Michael looked in the direction she was pointing and could see the baby's head. He was almost mesmerized by the sight. “Not much further,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Just over half an hour later, Michael was sitting next to Lisa, cradling a brand new baby girl in his arms; their baby girl. Marianne Elizabeth Palin had come into the world at 4:45 PM on March 3, 1975. She weighed six pounds, five ounces, and was nineteen and a half inches long. She had thick, dark hair, just like her parents, and the most beautiful large, green eyes. Michael could not get over how tiny she was. She fit perfectly into the crook of his arm, swaddled in a soft pink, cotton blanket. At one point he'd softly reached out to rub her cheek and could have sworn he'd heard a tiny little sigh.

Michael gazed lovingly at her. She was so beautiful, just like her mother. As his thoughts turned to Lisa, his gaze settled on her dozing in the hospital bed. The lines of tension around her face gone, she looked so peaceful. The delivery had been relatively easy according to the nurses, but it had obviously been a lot of work for Lisa. He didn't blame her for being so exhausted. He was quite content to watch their baby daughter as her mother got some rest. Tricia had returned earlier to see the baby and then left to give them some time alone with her.

Hearing a soft sound from the bed, he watched Lisa stir suddenly and sigh. Her eyes slowly opened and he watched the corners of her mouth lift into an exhausted – but obvious – smile.

“Hello, there,” she drawled tiredly.

Michael felt his lips tugging into an affectionate smile of his own. “Hey,” he returned softly. The baby cooed and stirred slightly in his arms. “I think this little one wishes to be with her mummy for a while.”

Lisa sat up slightly and held her arms out. “Hey, you,” she said, cradling the infant. “Are you already getting tired of Daddy?” She traced her finger softly along the baby's cheeks before planting a gentle kiss on her head.

“Thank you so much for being here, Michael,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she gazed at him.

“No need to thank me, love. I'm glad I got here in time. When Terry gave me the message, I didn't know what to think. So many frightening scenarios ran through my head. I feared so much for the safety of you and the baby.” His gaze lowered to the infant and another smile tugged at his lips. “But I see all my worrying was for naught. Thank God.” He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the baby's cheek.

With a free hand, Lisa reached up and softly stroked Michael's hair. “I can imagine what must have been going through that head of yours. I should admit I myself was worried about what was going on. She wasn't due to come into the world for another week. Rather impatient, this one is,” she grinned weakly.

Michael chuckled briefly and then gazed lovingly at her. “I'm just relieved you're both alright. I love you so much, Lisa.” He suddenly heard Marianne whimper, as if in protest. “I love you both so much!” he amended his statement, grinning at the infant and causing Lisa to laugh.