Author's Notes: A fun little exploration into ancestry, inheritance, and the psychosis that comes with it. Part 1 of 5.

The Torture of Ben & Abigail Gates

The First.

Late afternoon, July 4th. Fitting.

Abigail waddled down the stairs with her very swollen ankles and her very round belly, pausing halfway to the first floor long enough to call Ben in from the kitchen. "Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I think... I think it might be time!"

Of that, she probably could have been certain. She was standing mid-step on the soaked carpet that hadn't been soaked thirty seconds previously.

And with all the flutter of excitement of about-to-be a first-time father, Ben took the stairs two at a time, grabbing the pastel purple bag Abigail had clearly labeled "Hospital" from the dresser top and sprinting down the stairs to assist his very pregnant, about-to-be-a-mother wife.

Though pregnancy is never easy on women of Abigail's figure and stature, she was still tougher than most women (except his mother) and any man Ben had ever met. She held him with an ice blue glare as he helped her into the passenger seat of his car. "Don't you dare start freaking out on me now, Ben."

He flashed the closest thing he could manage to a winning smile. "Of course not, dear." Despite her warning - death threat - he still did ten over the whole way to the hospital.

Then, it was the women, the patronizing nurses and their patronizing smiles. Is that even possible, for women to patronize men? he wondered. Etymology was never his strong suit. The nurses spoke in voices two octaves higher than a normal woman's speaking voice, like he was some overgrown child or some sort of head case. They took Abigail down a long off-white corridor and Ben paced around the so-called 'father's lounge'.

It was, thankfully, not a long wait. He trotted after the doctor, Dr. Sel-something-ski, to the postnatal recovery area. Abigail, blonde hair standing in every which direction, lay slumped against a stack of pillows.

Ben made the crucial error of assuming a short length of labor meant an easy labor. "So, that wasn't bad, was it?"

Abigail cracked an eye. "If you ever say that again, Benjamin, I will saw off your genitalia with a butter knife."

One of the nurses snickered from somewhere behind Ben. "Death threats are common in this room, Mr. Gates. Just be thankful you didn't hear her cursing you to kingdom come."

Ben stored this piece of information away. Death threats during labor are common, and never suggest to a woman that giving birth is easy.

Then, he realized, there was another person he was in this room to see. "Where is he?" Ben asked, grinning.

"He?" The nurse looked puzzled.

Abigail cracked the other eye, frowning slightly. "Ben..."

"What?" Ben realized the grin was dripping from his face onto the floor.

"It's a girl, Ben."

The rest of Ben's smile hit the floor faster than an anvil. A girl? That was definitely not in the plans.

"A girl?" he repeated. "That... well, that wasn't my first choice."

Abigail sighed and closed her eyes, her voice infuriatingly superior. "Well, you flipped the cosmic coin, Ben. Don't blame me."

Ben folded his arms, calling on all of his willpower to resist the urge to pout. "Well, fine. We can always have a boy later."

Abigail's eyes flew open wide and she stared at him. "Can we worry about this one first, Ben? Jeez." She paused for a moment, scanning his face. "What do you want a boy so bad for, anyway?"

Ben shrugged. "We need a boy to carry on the Gates family name."

He got the sense that she was trying desperately to hold back from rolling her eyes.

Ben sensed a topic change was in order. "So, where is she? Can I hold her?" Ben looked to Abigail, who looked to the nurse, who nodded her approval.

"As long as you don't drop her," Abigail assented. "We don't need our kids ending up more like you than they have to."

"Thanks, dear." Ben moved to the small plastic rectangle that held the infant. With much coaching from the nurse and from his ever-helpful wife, Ben held his baby daughter and started scanning his mental list of historical American names. Because with the family name Gates, how could his daughter not have a historical name?

He smiled as the baby yawned widely. There would be plenty of time for them to have a boy.

Charlotte Elizabeth Gates
July 4, 2009

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