Delphi - Chapter Three

Chapter 3          
Beginnings
In the dining area of Gwen's second-floor apartment, there sat a table. It wasn't a very large table, but it was sturdy and had many uses. It could hold plates, pens, and keys. It could support a writing adventure on a whim, or stand up to a card game that lasted long into the night. It could even stop a person from falling over, should the need arise.
          Yes, the table was very useful; however, it was also very used. The years had left it scratched, marked, and faded. Children had believed it to be an acceptable surface upon which to express their creativity. Aspiring chefs had mistaken it for a cutting board, a napkin, and a hot pad. Gamers had conquered worlds upon its surface, which sometimes resulted in rage-filled table flips.
          The table didn't mind. It was a good table, a reliable table. It never knocked over glasses of juice or caused bowls of salad to go flying. It didn't stick out a leg when people were walking by, or jump in front of doors to prevent them from opening. If it was assigned to hold something, it held it. Even mischievous toast (buttered or otherwise) kept still when given to the table's stable and dependable care.
          Gwen cared. She had rescued the table from a secondhand store. The first time she laid eyes upon its battered surface, she thought it was beautiful. She especially liked the wooden swirls at the ends of its legs. They didn't serve any real purpose - just a feature added to make the table more aesthetically pleasing - but Gwen liked them just the same.
          The first week the table had been in her apartment, Gwen put a puzzle together on its surface. She had worked on that puzzle every night for a week. It depicted a dragon and unicorn chasing each other through a forest. Gwen had purchased it from the same secondhand store she had gotten the table from. She completed as much of it as she could, but a few pieces were missing. That didn't stop Gwen, though. She cut thin cardboard into the shapes of the missing pieces and then painted them so they matched the rest of the puzzle. When she finished, no one could tell they were custom-made.
          That first week with Gwen was one of the table's happiest in its entire existence. It had looked forward to a long life with her. It didn't take long, though, before the table felt neglected. When Gwen was home, and she rarely was, she ate her meals on the couch by the television. She drew her sketches there as well. When she painted, Gwen preferred the standing easel. In fact, outside the occasional drink or odd item, she barely used the table at all. It imagined that perhaps it wasn't really a table. Maybe it was a large and obtrusive decoration, like a big vase. This made it feel empty.
          Then Arthur moved in. The table liked Arthur. Arthur and Gwen ate their meals at the table. Arthur and Gwen played games at the table, too. And Arthur liked to put all sorts of things on top of it: cups of coffee, keys, loose coins, his wallet. He would frequently forget he had placed them there but Gwen would remind him. Then he would rush over and pick them up.
          Sometimes, when Arthur retrieved his items, his hand would brush against the table's smooth wooden surface. That small bit of physical contact was all the table needed, to feed. It only took a little, of course, not enough for anyone to notice. But take it did, and it found Arthur to be delicious: earthy, slightly acidic, medium bodied; American, but with a bit of English influence. Oh, yes, the table liked Arthur a great deal.
          One person the table did not like was Amelia, Gwen's mother. Feeding on Amelia was like trying to get water from a piece of glass by chewing it up and spitting out the shards. It was never a pleasant experience when Amelia touched its surface. Not that the table complained, of course. After all, it was a good table. It had responsibilities. Groaning in disagreement was something lesser forms did. Perhaps rocking chairs or wooden floors. The table was not a floor - that was beneath it.
          On a particularly bright morning, Amelia was in the apartment. It was one month following the fire, and Gwen had invited her over for breakfast. The table held their cups and plates of food, and did its best to avoid Amelia. It focused instead on taking little nibbles of Gwen and Arthur and playfully absorbing and bouncing around the delightful waves of vibration the three gave off as they spoke.
          Arthur concluded the story he had been telling, "So from the ashes we have risen and, like the phoenix, we are born again: brighter, and more beautiful than before."
          Gwen giggled. "Oh, Arthur, you can be so dramatic." She turned to her mother. "He's just excited the insurance company gave him a big check for the house."
          Amelia took a sip of her tea before responding. "Well," she said. "I didn't realize this was something worth celebrating. Congratulations, Arthur. I'm so happy to hear you're profiting from the fire that nearly took my daughter's life."
          "Well, I . . ." Arthur started.
          Amelia continued, "No, really. However, since you brought it up, I do have this question that's been bugging me for a while now. When you first noticed the fire, what were you doing that was so important you couldn't put it out? Didn't you have an extinguisher in the house?"
          "Mother!" Gwen said. "The fire was not Arthur's fault. There was nothing we could do. The inspector said it started in the attic. It's not exactly a place we hang out. By the time we saw the smoke, the fire was already in the walls and out of control."
          "Saw the smoke?" Amelia asked. "Didn't he have smoke alarms, dear? Surely you heard them."
          "Of course he had smoke alarms. The lightning must have shorted them out." Gwen lifted the glass of cucumber water to her lips and took a sip.
          "Now, Gwen, you don't really believe that, do you? It's highly unlikely all the alarms were affected by the lightning. Are you sure the batteries were in? Some people hear the warning beeps and find it easier to pull the battery out than to replace it. It's lazy and irresponsible is what it is."
          "He didn't remove the batteries, mother. He wouldn't do that."
          "All I'm saying is that proper preparation and protection are essential to ensure you don't end up in a situation you aren't prepared for, especially in a man's house."
          Gwen's cheeks filled with color. She looked straight into her mother's eyes. "So that's what this is about?"
          Arthur suddenly became very interested in his breakfast. He had lost his appetite, but that didn't stop him from filling his mouth with all the bacon, eggs, and toast necessary to ensure he was properly preoccupied.
          Amelia rearranged some of the food on her plate. "Well, Gwen. It's just a lot to happen so quickly." She put down the fork and met her daughter's eyes. "I am excited to have another grandchild, I really am. I just didn't think it would be so . . . unplanned." Gwen was about to reply when Amelia held up her hands. "I know, I know, I'll drop it. Let's talk of something else. I didn't come here to fight. How are the wedding plans coming along?"
          Gwen's eyes did not leave her mother's. Amelia looked away. Only then did Gwen respond. "They're going well," she finally said. "Really well, in fact. It's been a difficult month but we're almost set." Gwen added food to her fork to prepare for another bite. "The only thing we're missing is a caterer. We had one lined up, but they cancelled last week. We're having trouble finding a replacement on such short notice."
          "Not another word. Your father and I will take care of it. There's a culinary department in the college that teaches fine dining. They're quite good and we're friends with the professor. They do this kind of thing all the time. I'm sure we can book them for the event."
          "Really?" Gwen turned to see Arthur's expression. He had stopped eating and appeared pleasantly surprised. She looked back to her mother. "That would be great, thank you."
          "Don't mention it, dear. We're happy to help out." Amelia took a napkin from her lap and dabbed at her mouth. When she was finished, she returned the napkin to her lap. "Now, about your wedding colors; you're not really going with brown, are you?"
          Arthur had just picked up his coffee. He put it down before taking a sip. "Why?" he asked. "What's wrong with brown?"
          Amelia looked him straight in the eyes. "It's the color of dirt and feces, that's what's wrong with it. It has no place in a wedding."
          Arthur was about to respond, but Gwen intercepted. "It's also the color of chocolate and teddy bears," she said. "And it will go great with the purple I picked out."
          "Purple and brown," Amelia said, shaking her head. "Well, I suppose what's done is done."
          Arthur picked up his coffee again while Gwen drank from her water.
          Amelia looked at her watch. "Would you look at the time? I really must be off. It's not like my students will teach themselves, you know."
          "Mother teaches history at the college," Gwen told Arthur.
          "That's right," Amelia confirmed. "A very important subject. After all, if you don't learn from history..."
          "You'll be doomed to repeat it," Gwen recited.
          "Precisely." Amelia rose from her chair. Gwen stood up as well and gave her mother a hug. Amelia then turned to Arthur, who was still sitting. "Arthur, when a lady leaves the table, you're supposed to rise." She turned to her daughter. "Really, you have got to teach this man proper etiquette."
          Arthur stood up.
          Amelia continued, "Remember, Gwen, 6 o'clock this Wednesday. We have some guests flying in early for the wedding and they can't wait to see you again."
          "I'll be there," Gwen replied, with a polite smile.
          Gwen escorted her mother to the door and they said their final goodbyes. She then walked back to the dining area and looked at Arthur, who had returned to his seat. Gwen leaned against the archway separating the kitchen from the hallway, rested her head against the wall, and closed her eyes.
          "Thank you," Gwen said, opening her eyes to look at Arthur.
          "For what?"
          "For loving me, even after you've met my parents."
          Arthur rose from the table and walked over to her. He took her in his arms. "Why, Gwen, I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about. Your dad is a very pleasant person."
          Gwen laughed. "Yes, well, you haven't had to sit through one of his lectures. Do you know the geological difference between stress, strain, and structure? Because I do."
          "Oh," Arthur said. "I know about stress."
          Gwen pulled him close and kissed his lips. Then she lowered her head and kissed his neck. She spoke gently into his ear. "I have a cure for that, you know. I'll give you a hint - it involves a hot shower and an equally stressed fianc."
          A strand of hair had fallen across Gwen's face. Arthur tucked it behind her ear. "I think I'd like to see this miracle cure." he said.
          Gwen took his hand and led him to the shower.

          Thirty steamy minutes later, the two were less stressed and getting dressed in the bedroom.
          "I may have found someone to help start the business," Arthur said.
          Gwen clipped her bra into place. "Oh yeah? Who's that?"
          Arthur stepped into a pair of jeans. "An old friend from high school. I'm meeting with him in a few hours. He's got a great head for numbers and marketing and a business degree to prove it. Doesn't know a thing about coffee, but that's where I come in."
          "Sounds like a match. Did you show him your plans?" Gwen went to the closet and flipped through the clothes.
          "I did. For the most part, he really likes them. He wants to make a few small changes but nothing major." Arthur pulled on a t-shirt.
          Gwen had slipped into a black summer dress spotted with falling sunflowers. "How do I look? Appropriate for a business meeting?"
          Arthur stopped halfway into pulling up a sock. "Wait, you're coming too?"
          "We're in this together, aren't we? I should meet this prospective partner. What's his name, anyway?"
          Arthur avoided her eyes. He finished putting on his socks. "You're not going to like it," he said.
          "How could I not like a name?" Gwen asked, moving closer to him.
          Arthur cringed as he spoke. "It's, uh...Lance."
          Gwen burst into laughter. "You're kidding, right? Do you know how many people already pick on us for being a Gwen and Arthur? When they find out our business partner is named Lance, we'll never live it down. No, I'm sorry, you'll have to choose someone else."
          "I told you you wouldn't like it." Arthur said.
          Gwen crossed her arms and leaned against a wall. She still had a big grin on her face. "So?" she asked. "Is he cute?"
          Arthur threw a pillow at her.

          Two hours later, Gwen and Arthur entered Dizzy's Diner, a local 24-hour spot that was great for greasy cravings at 3AM. This nighttime popularity may have been due to their low prices. More likely, though, it was due to the fact that, at that time of night, all the decent restaurants and bars had already closed for the evening. The burgers weren't bad, but the fries were freshly prepared from frozen. Most everything else came out of a can. For reasons Arthur couldn't quite figure out, Lance had insisted on meeting there.
          In place of a hostess, a sign directed diners to find their own seat. Arthur looked around and noticed Lance sitting at a booth in the corner. He was holding a menu out at arm's length and hadn't noticed them come in. Arthur and Gwen approached the booth and sat down.
          "Lance, good to see you," Arthur said. "You can see, can't you? What's with the glasses?"
          Lance, who was wearing a pair of dark, sport-style sunglasses, put down the menu. He said, "Arthur, my man, you're behind the times, as usual. Wearing sunglass indoors is all the rage. Look around. Everyone's doing it."
          Arthur looked around. No one else was wearing sunglasses.
          "This is why you need me," Lance continued. "I blend into the crowds. I'm on top of the market. From the heart of the city to my fingertips; I've got the pulse of this urban jungle. A trendsetter, some might say. Here take a look at this tie." Lance unclipped his tie and passed it to Arthur. "What do you think?"
          Arthur looked at the tie. The clip and size suggested it was meant for a child. The pictures on the tie, which were of a cartoon cat trying to hit a mouse with an oversized wooden mallet, confirmed this line of thought.
          Arthur forced a smile. "It's, um, great, Lance. Are you feeling all right?"
          "Right as rain. Like I'm on top of the sun and shining with all its radiance. Why do you ask?" Lance's grin grew even wider and he tilted his head to one side.
          "Oh, uh, no reason." Arthur looked to the table. Then he looked out the window. No one spoke.
          "Earth to Arthur. You there?" Lance was still grinning wildly. He was on the brink of all-out laughter. "Oh, man, I can't keep this up." The laughter broke loose. "I'm messing with ya, dude! Really, you should see your face right now.
          "You're...what?"
          "It's a joke! Geez, where'd your sense of humor go? Look, I'm wearing these glasses because my eye doc's a block away. I had an appointment this morning and they dilated my pupils." Lance pulled down the glasses to reveal the large pupils hidden underneath. "I tell ya - these lights are murder! It's why I wanted to meet here. Two birds, one stone - that kind of thing." He put the glasses back on.
          "Uh-huh," Arthur said, still looking a bit wary. "And the tie?"
          Lance picked it up from the table. "It's a present from my girlfriend's kid. He put it in my bag before I left. Said I should wear it to the important meeting. Cute, right?" Lance placed it in a briefcase sitting next to him. He turned back to the couple and clasped his hands. "So, who's in the mood for pie? My treat."
          Gwen and Arthur glanced at each other. That glance said, "This was not the best start, but they couldn't be rude." They looked back at Lance. Arthur said, "Pie sounds great."
         The pie arrived. Its thawed crust and can-origin filling wouldn't win it any awards, but it was still surprisingly edible. In light of the nature of the meeting, Lance also insisted on coffee. Unfortunately, the coffee did not live up to the high standards set by the pie. Gently speaking, it was absolutely horrid. Try as he might, Arthur could only make it through half a cup. Lance, on the other hand, went so far as to accept a refill when it was offered. Gwen politely declined and went with milk instead. Fortunately, the milk had not spoiled.
          Following pie, drinks, and obligatory small talk, the three got down to business. Lance had taken Arthur's notes and consolidated them into a rough draft of a business plan. He had started reading the document, but his oversensitive eyes were having trouble with the small print. To accommodate, Arthur took the papers and read them aloud paragraph by paragraph. It was good. Really good. Despite his odd nature, Lance really did know what he was talking about. Together, the three of them adjusted a few of the details, identified some missing pieces, and worked out the roles each would play to get everything up and running.
          As all three would be contributing equally to the creation and sustainment of the business, they split ownership three ways, thirty-three percent each. The extra one percent went to Arthur, who came up with the original idea. Lance would be responsible for securing the initial investment; however, all three agreed to submit a personal guarantee to the loan, should it become necessary. Arthur would start vetting suppliers and Gwen would work with him on logo and menu design. She would also put together a few concept sketches for the floor plan, based on Arthur's original ideas. Anything more formalized would have to wait until a location had been secured and she could see the space they would be working with.
         Satisfied with their work, they agreed to meet up the following month.
          "I still think we should get together again in two weeks," Lance said. "The longer we let this thing sit, the longer it's gonna take to get up and running. And, I don't know about you two, but I'm jumping out of my pants to get this started. I just don't want us to lose that energy, ya know?"
          "Yeah, man, I hear you," Arthur said. "But we can't. Really. We'll be on our honeymoon."
          Lance sat upright. His sunglassed eyes looked straight at them. "Honeymoon? Well bee's knees! That's right, isn't it? You two are getting hitched. Wow. I almost can't believe it." Lance mocked a sniffle. "My little Artie's all grown up."
          "Shut up." Arthur said, with a small laugh.
          "You should come to the wedding," Gwen offered. "We're having it at the Metamorphic Museum next Sunday. I know it's a bit last minute, but we'd love it if you could make it."
          "Ya know what? Yeah. I'd be honored. I'll bring my girl along, too, so you can meet her. She loves these kinds of things."
          "It's a done deal," Arthur said. "We went digital with the invites - I'll send one over."
          Gwen looked at her phone to check the time. "It was lovely meeting you, Lance, but we really have to get going."
          "Of course, of course. And the pleasure was mine, 100%." Lance took off his sunglasses. His pupils were still enlarged from the dilation. He looked at Gwen and Arthur, then slowly started nodding. "Ya know what? Yeah. I think this is going to work - the three of us. It's a great plan. Really, it is. And, I don't mean to get all mushy or anything, but I'm crazy happy you two picked me to be a part of it. I really am."
          "You're the right man for the job," Arthur said. "I can't think of anyone better."
          Lance put his sunglasses back on. "Yeah. Well, get out of here you two lovebirds. I'll be seeing you two around laterz." Lance crossed his arms and sat back in the booth.
          Arthur and Gwen said their final good-byes, left the booth and walked out of Dizzy's Diner. In their car in the parking lot, they discussed the meeting.
          "Lance seems nice," Gwen said. "Crazy, but nice."
          Arthur chuckled. "Yeah. He's always been like that. One intelligent quirky fellow with a sense of humor that will leave you groaning with your head in your hands. It didn't make him the most popular in high school."
          "I imagine not. How did you two become friends, anyway?"
          "Well, you may not know this, but I didn't exactly run with the cool crowd back then either."
          Gwen put her hand to her mouth in mock surprise. "You, not popular? No, I refuse to believe it."
          "I know. It's hard to imagine, but I swear it's true. Back in high school, there was a table in the cafeteria that was very exclusive. And, by that, I mean you had to be excluded from all the other tables. I sat there and so did Lance. A few others, too. In fact, some of the most interesting people in the entire school were at that table."
          Gwen nodded her head. "Sounds like the kind of place I would have fit right in at."
          Arthur quickly agreed. "Yeah, I can see that. I'm pretty sure you would have met all the qualifications. I'd have vouched for you."
          "Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, we never had a table like that where I went to school. I mostly just sat by myself and drew pictures during lunch. It was my way of escaping into another world."
          "Well, I'm glad you didn't get too far. Otherwise I never would have found you."
          Gwen looked over at Arthur. "Monsieur Suave, we meet at last." She leaned in for a kiss. Arthur obliged.
          Readjusting himself back into the driver seat, Arthur said, "Speaking of lost - where are we going again?"
          "Oh! That's right. We have that checkup scheduled with the gynecologist in about thirty minutes."
          Arthur started the car. "I can't believe I forgot."
          "That's why you have me."
          The car ride over was filled with hopes of good health for the baby, guesses at a gender they didn't know, and the sharing of potential name choices for the unborn child. When they arrived at the OB-GYN, Gwen was lead to the back while Arthur waited in the lobby.
          Arthur picked up a brochure from a nearby holder. It was titled, "SIDS - Sudden Infant Death Syndrome". He began reading. For the most part, the brochure was written with a positive tone. It was filled with tips to promote good habits for baby safety. However, instead of focusing on these preventative measures, Arthur read one part over and over, "SIDS, also known as Crib Death, is the number one cause of death among children under one year of age. It occurs when a child dies suddenly and without explanation, most frequently in their sleep."
          Arthur's imagination kicked into high-gear. He fantasized points in time: little flashes of a potential future. Flash. He sees Gwen, nearing the end of her pregnancy. She's lying in bed. He's next to her, stroking her extended belly and talking nonsense to the baby inside, hoping it will recognize his voice. Flash. The birth. Why does there have to be so much pain to bring life to this world? He knows Gwen is strong enough to endure anything, even this, and he supports her the best he can. But still he feels helpless. If only he could take her pain away. Flash. The baby is born, beautiful and perfect. It's a boy. Arthur strokes his soft skin. Five tiny fingers wrap around Arthur's pinky. He has a strong grip. Flash. The three of them are at home. Mozart plays in the background as Gwen feeds the newborn. The nourishing breastmilk that was created for the sole purpose of sustaining new life fills his son's belly. Flash. It's nighttime. The infant sleeps so peacefully. He's on his back with nothing in the crib, just as advised.
          Flash. Arthur wakes up and looks in the crib. There's the baby, sleeping like always. Arthur strokes a tiny arm. Something is wrong. The arm is cold, far too cold. Arthur looks closer. The child's chest is no longer moving. Air has stopped filling his lungs. Blood is no longer flowing through his veins. The tiny body is limp and lifeless. And the eyes - the eyes are open and unblinking: clouded white with the shadow of death. His baby - his most beautiful, most extraordinary baby in all of existence, is now nothing but corpse. Gwen is still asleep. He dare not wake her. She will know soon enough. Let her sleep a little longer before she awakens to the nightmare their lives have become and the grief that will haunt them until the day they die.
          Or so Arthur imagined. The images replayed in his head again, and he stopped blinking. His skin turned a shade paler than before. He was so paralyzed by his fear, he didn't notice the person staring at him. She approached him slowly and sat down next to him. When she touched his arm, his whole body jumped at the unexpected contact.
          "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if you were all right."
          Arthur focused on the stranger. A woman in a blue dress had taken the seat next to him. Her belly was so big and full of pregnancy, she looked as if she would pop. She had a young child with her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."
          "First time father?"
          Arthur let out a nervous laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
          "You look as scared as I felt, before I had my little Abigail here."
          Arthur looked closer at the young child. She was wearing a rainbow colored dress covered with dancing pink unicorns and fluffy white clouds. Her legs were bouncing back and forth as she sat in the chair next to her mom. Arthur looked back to the woman. "Does it ever go away? The fear of losing them?"
          "Not really. I mean, you'll always be afraid; it's part of having a child. After all, your life is connected with theirs. But it gets easier, as they get older. You survive the first year and, hopefully, so do they. All love comes with risk, but it's a risk worth taking. The reward is more than worth it. I can't imagine my life without her in it."
          Arthur's imaginary future flashed through his head again. He couldn't stop focusing on those white eyes. "What if I can't handle it?"
          "Some people can't. So they distance themselves from their child. Less pain, but also less love. We call those people bad parents. But don't worry. If you start to feel like you're drowning, reach out to your partner or your family. Sometimes you have to borrow other's strength. There's nothing wrong with that - we're only human."
          Arthur sat up and put the brochure back in its holder. He turned back to the mother. "Thank you," he said. "That actually helps."
          The woman nodded her head and turned to her child.
          "Mr. Crumpet." A nurse approached Arthur. "We're about to do the ultrasound. Would you like to come back?"
          Arthur got up from his seat and followed the nurse through the double doors to the patient area. They went down a few hallways and made at least three turns. Arthur was still distracted and couldn't keep track. Finally, they arrived at the room Gwen was stationed in. She was lying down in the patient's reclining chair. Arthur sat down on a stool next to her and grabbed her hand. He started to feel a little better.
          "Excellent," said the ultrasound technician. "Now we can begin."
          At the request of the technician, Gwen lifted her shirt and revealed her belly. Two white towels were placed to protect Gwen's clothes from the ultrasound gel, which was liberally applied to her skin. The technician set the camera on Gwen's abdomen and moved it around.
          "All right. If we move here." The camera zoomed smoothly across and the images on the screen changed in response. "And there you are." The technician pointed at the screen. "Right there, mom and dad, is your baby. It looks like we have a length of about 1 cm, which puts you at about 7 weeks. There's a strong heartbeat, and a nice round yolk sac. All looking very normal and very healthy. Would you like a picture? I can print one out here."
          "Yes, please." Gwen said.
          "I'll go ahead and get that started." The tech pushed a button. "I have just a few other things I need to check on, and then you'll be all set."
          The technician moved the camera, took some notes, and explained various parts. Arthur and Gwen nodded along, as if in understanding. At the end of the exam, the gel was wiped from Gwen's belly and she lowered her shirt. The technician handed the ultrasound picture to the couple and then left.
          Gwen and Arthur looked at the black and white picture. They stared at it for over a minute.
          "I was never very good at these," Arthur said. "I think you have to bring it to your eyes, and then relax as you slowly pull it away. Then you'll see the baby."
          Gwen laughed, her eyes watering. "Oh, thank goodness. I can't see it either. I kept thinking, 'What a horrible mom I must be. I can't even see my child.'"
         Arthur hugged her close. "You're going to be the best mother the world has ever seen."
         Gwen hugged him back. A nurse walked in with a few papers.
         "Excuse me," Arthur said. "Could you help us with something?"
         "Yes, of course," said the nurse. She noticed they were holding the ultrasound picture and smiled. "Did you need help finding the baby? I get that request a lot."
         "Yes, please." Arthur said.
         The nurse pointed out the little peanut of a mark on the ultrasound image. The couple noticed it at last.
         "Wow." Arthur said.
          "Wow." Gwen repeated.
          The two stared at the image.
          Gwen asked, "Do you think we're ready?"
          Arthur thought about it for a minute. In Gwen's presence, his fear had left him. He said, "I don't think anyone's ever ready. But I know I love you, and I love this tiny thing growing inside you. I think that's enough to get us through this."
          "That, and a whole lot of coffee." Gwen replied.
          They both laughed.