Nancy stretched, opening her eyes, and frowned in disappointment when she saw the other side of the bed empty. Ned had promised her he would put off his business trip if she wanted him to do so, but Nancy had known how much it meant to him. In the three years he had been with the firm, he had continually progressed up the management ladder. Putting off the business trip, no matter how much she missed him while he was gone, would reflect badly on him.

Nancy glanced down at her engagement and wedding rings, then stretched again, taking a deep breath before she slipped out of bed. It had taken every bit of her energy to get through the previous two days, and she hoped that her stomach bug had passed. That had been the main reason Ned had been willing to postpone the trip; he hated leaving while she wasn't feeling well, even though Nancy knew Hannah would be delighted to bring her soup and crackers if she asked.

Nancy and Ned's two-year wedding anniversary was only a few days away.

The first six months of their marriage had been both bliss and hell. Ned had first made love to her on their wedding night, and on their honeymoon, during the months after, their appetite for each other had become almost insatiable. But neither of them had really lived with anyone outside their family before, either. Their few sleepovers before the wedding had been unique, and they hadn't even so much as spent an entire weekend alone together before their wedding.

Ned was an incredibly patient man, but he had a temper, and while Nancy adored Ned and wanted to spend time with him, she often became so absorbed in her work that she lost track of time, trusting that he would understand. She was faithful to him, and had sworn she would be for the rest of her life; even so, Ned was often at work and unable to help her with her investigations, and he wasn't simply leaving her at home doing housekeeping. They had been learning each other, how to live with each other, how to express their disappointment and frustration without it escalating into a full-scale argument, and Ned had a tendency to bottle up his anger until he exploded with it. Nancy had just been so reluctant to express any dissatisfaction at all, knowing Ned was already being so incredibly understanding, and that just made their fights worse. It also fell to Nancy to hire a housekeeper, and after two disastrous candidates, after a series of investigations that had put Nancy in more dangerous situations than she had been in before, on top of Ned working more hours on a project at work—in the space of a week they had argued so much, had been so incredibly frustrated with each other, that Ned had spent two nights sleeping on their couch while Nancy, her heart aching, had cried herself to sleep alone in their bed.

A part of her had been terrified that all her misgivings and doubts were just coming true, that she wasn't cut out to be a wife, not even the way they had agreed. They were still getting to know each other, and though they had been seeing each other for years, they had never seen each other like this. She had bristled at Ned's pleas with her to be more careful, to call him or some other man she trusted to escort her if she was in a dangerous situation. She had been incredibly frustrated when the third housekeeper, who lasted an even shorter time than the first two, had mistaken her story notes for meaningless scraps of paper and thrown them away, ruining them by tossing leftover coffee grounds in after.

And every time she wasn't home for dinner, she felt guilty, and sad, and defensive, all at once. Ned had known who he was marrying, but she couldn't fight the feeling that she was failing him as a wife.

The turning point had finally come in the fourth month of their marriage, just before Thanksgiving, when tensions had been especially high. Edith and James had invited them over for the holiday meal, and Nancy had been offended that Edith would just assume Nancy didn't want to host the meal at their new home. When Ned had tried to defend his mother's invitation, Nancy had blown up. She was an awful wife, he had to think that; she had missed so many meals with him, it hardly seemed like they were married at all, and she hated the tension between them so much...

She had ended up crying in his arms, and he had cupped her face, telling her that he did miss spending time with her, but the only way she would have really hurt him was if he thought she was using her work as an excuse to be away from him. She swore that she wasn't, but she still felt terrible.

They came to an agreement that night. Dinner together at least twice a week—at least. A date night at least once every two weeks. A new housekeeper who could prepare their dinner for them, who also understood that Nancy's story notes were not to be touched under any circumstances. And they would offer to host a Christmas luncheon at their home.

For the most part, their arrangement worked. They still fought occasionally, still exasperated and frustrated each other sometimes, but they dealt with it before it turned into a screaming match. Nancy's married friends had told her not to go to bed angry, and she had to admit that no matter how awful their fight might have been, she hated sleeping alone in their bed, so they always made up before they went to sleep together.

And she loved making love after a fight, when they were both relieved, keyed up, almost desperate for each other. She loved making love with him, period. She had been so nervous about that aspect of married life before their wedding, and Bess was the only person Nancy had been able to really talk to about it, before or after the wedding, other than Ned. Nancy hadn't told Bess everything—some of what her husband had done to and with her in bed was just too mortifying to discuss with anyone else, no matter how much pleasure it had given them both—but when she and Bess sympathized about how exasperating and how incredibly amazing their husbands could be, it made her feel better.

Nancy did love Ned. She loved him with all her heart, and with every day that passed, every night they spent in each other's arms, she loved him more. She still did everything she could that she considered "proper" for a wife to do; she made dinner for him when she could, usually on the weekends when she wasn't covering a story. She had hosted the Christmas luncheon the first year of their marriage, and Thanksgiving luncheon the second year, and even a dinner party for some of his work colleagues early that summer. He enjoyed seeing her dressed up for him, and so she had accumulated a small wardrobe of short frilly nightgowns and beautiful satin slips. And she had been diligent in their bed; while pleasing their husbands in bed sounded like a chore to many of Nancy's married friends, considering how much pleasure Ned was able to give her, returning it made Nancy happy. He had been so incredibly patient with her in that area during their engagement, and he was delighted when she wanted to try something new or different with him.

She always giggled with delight when her husband embraced her in the privacy of their room, nuzzling against her, his skin so warm against hers.

Her husband. Ned, whose love meant so much to her, who did his best to give her everything she had ever wanted.

They were in a good place now, two years into their marriage. Ned's success at work made them financially comfortable, and Nancy was working as a city crime reporter when she wasn't working on investigative stories or tips for the newspaper. She had found Maria during one such case; one of Maria's former employers had blamed the young Hispanic woman when a few pieces of jewelry had gone missing, ignoring her son's obvious addiction problems. Nancy had cleared Maria's name, and Maria had come to work for her and a few other women in Nancy's neighborhood. Maria spent the morning at the Liggons' house, then came over to the Nickersons' to tidy up and prepare dinner on weekdays. Every Thursday, once she left the Nickersons', she went over to clean at the Drummonds' home. She was very efficient and her meals were lovely; she had introduced Nancy and Ned to a few of the traditional dishes she had learned from her mother, and Nancy and Ned were both delighted by the new experience. When a few made men trying to intimidate Nancy had come by the house, Maria had stood her ground, then called Nancy at work to let her know about it.

The household ran far more smoothly with Maria keeping everything in order while Nancy and Ned were at work, and while Nancy had always loved Hannah, she found she had never truly appreciated all their housekeeper had done for her and her father until she had been at the mercy of incompetent applicants.

Nancy was just pouring herself a cup of coffee that morning when she frowned, glancing down at her stomach. She was feeling nauseated again, and if the nausea continued the way it had the rest of the week, she wouldn't be in the mood for anything more than some thin broth and soda crackers for dinner. She left a note to that effect for Maria, but encouraged her to make something special for Ned's homecoming. Maria did an excellent job with steak seared in a seasoned cast-iron skillet, and the baked potatoes she prepared were always fluffy and delicious.

Nancy was disappointed when she couldn't even keep the cup of coffee down. She rose from her knees, meeting her own gaze in the bathroom mirror, before she splashed cold water on her pale face. Oh, she felt miserable, but she would feel better once her husband was home again. Ned was so incredibly sweet to her when she was sick.

Nancy hadn't slept well alone in their bed, and that, coupled with her nausea and a pounding headache, meant concentrating on her work was doubly hard. She was determined to get home on time that night, though, and so she gritted her teeth and worked through it. When the nausea became too much—a few of the reporters ordered hot dogs from the greasy spoon down the block for lunch, and the smell of the chili and onions and wieners had made Nancy's stomach roil unpleasantly—Nancy took a break, going out for fresh air, until she felt better.

She left work only five minutes later than usual, and when she opened their front door, the smell of pan-seared steak greeted her. It made her mouth water even as her stomach flipped again, and she frowned down at her belly, closing the door behind her.

"I'm home!"

"Nan?" Ned emerged from their bedroom with a welcoming grin on his face, and Nancy put down her briefcase and her light jacket, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, sweetheart, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she murmured, nuzzling against him as he embraced her. "Mmmm."

"And boy, that steak smells amazing. Thanks for the surprise." He pulled back and was almost close enough to kiss her when he looked at her curiously. She had grimaced, feeling her stomach flip again at the mention of food. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"You still aren't feeling well?"

She paused, but Ned knew her well enough that she didn't even need to answer. He kissed her cheek, then guided her to their bedroom. "Would you like to lie down before dinner?"

"I would, but I've missed you too much to let you out of my sight..."

"It's all right; I need to call my office anyway. Just lie down and rest for a few minutes. I'll wake you up."

At his insistence, Nancy's limbs seemed to almost become heavier in response. She fumbled out of her clothes and washed her face, and crept into their bed in her underwear, sinking into blessed unconsciousness as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When she opened her eyes, their bedroom was much darker and her stomach was growling. She made a soft disappointed sound, stretching her legs.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?"

Nancy turned. Her husband was looking at her with concern from his own pillow, stretched out over the covers. Another wave of nausea swept over her when she rolled onto her other side to face him, but after a moment it passed. "Yes," she murmured, and it wasn't really a lie. "Dinner?"

"I thought I'd wait for you."

"Then you must be starving," Nancy said, slowly moving the covers back.

Maria had left their dinners warming in the oven, although Ned had pulled his steak out so it wouldn't dry out. Over her broth and his steak and potato, they discussed her day, Ned's trip, their plans for the anniversary. Ned wanted to take her out to eat at a nice restaurant, and it had been too long since they had splurged on that kind of expense. Silently Nancy hoped that her stomach bug would be well and truly gone by then—and that no assignment would interfere with their plans. Ned was understanding, but that didn't mean he enjoyed broken dates and ruined plans.

Mindful that her nausea was worst in the morning, Nancy only ate a few crackers with her broth, hoping that would keep her sickness under control. After dinner they curled up together on the couch while she went over story notes, and she felt warm and relaxed and happy in her husband's arms.

When she thought back on the way their marriage had been, she could see how close they had both been to giving up, and she was so, so glad that they had finally been able to find this peace with each other. Losing him would have meant losing a better part of herself, and she couldn't have borne it.

When Nancy went to the bathroom to prepare for bed, she brought a short powder-blue slip with her to change into. Ned was waiting for her in their bed, looking over the newspaper, and when she walked in wearing the slip, Ned's eyebrows went up, and he immediately folded up the paper.

"I thought, since you weren't feeling well...?"

Nancy closed their bedroom door behind her and crossed to their bed, climbing in on her side. "I feel better," she said. "And I've missed you."

"And I've missed you," he said, and the expression in his dark eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

After, she ran her fingers through his hair a few times, lazily stroking, before he pushed back a little. "Hey," he said softly, and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey," she whispered, cupping his cheek. "Welcome home, love."

"With that to look forward to..." He winked at her before kissing her cheek.

In the morning, Nancy woke happily in her husband's arms—but was disappointed when she was overtaken by a bout of nausea almost immediately. Ned was awake when she returned to their bed after a round of violent retching, and he made her promise that she would call the doctor and set up an appointment. "After all," he said, "if he can give you some medicine to get you better faster..."

She was trying to hide from him exactly how miserable she felt, since he would insist that she stay home otherwise, but she was exhausted, and she was pretty sure he could see it in her eyes. She did promise, and once she was at her desk at work, sorting through her notes, she did call the doctor's office.

"Hello. I know this might be impossible, but I haven't been feeling well, and I wondered if the doctor might have some time today..."

"Oh... his day is already full of appointments. May I ask who's calling?"

"Mrs. Ned Nickerson." Nancy looked down at her wedding ring. "Nancy Drew."

"Oh! Well, Mrs. Nickerson, would it be possible for you to come in around... two-thirty?"

Nancy hated that her name had probably enabled her to bump someone else off the list, but nothing could be done about it now. "Yes," she agreed, forcing a smile. Now even the persistent odor of stale coffee, which had permeated everything in the newspaper office, was making her stomach flip a little. She wasn't sure what she would do if coffee upset her. "I will be there."

Dr. Collins was a balding, middle-aged man with a kindly smile. Nancy sat on the examination table in her blue and green patterned dress, her hands clasped in her lap, and they exchanged polite smiles when he entered.

"So, Mrs. Nickerson. Nurse tells me you're suffering from a stomachache?"

Nancy took a deep breath and nodded. "I have fits of nausea during the day, and I've been quite tired, have a headache... I was hoping you could give me something to treat this stomach bug so I could get back to work."

Dr. Collins smiled as he fitted the stethoscope into his ears and approached her. "And how long have you been married? Deep breath, please."

"Two years," she said, when he motioned for her to answer.

"Have you been trying to get pregnant for that length of time?"

Nancy colored faintly. "Um... no. We haven't been, actually."

"When did you finish your last cycle?" he asked, without a hint of self-consciousness about asking her such a question.

And Nancy wasn't entirely surprised by the line of questioning. Bess Evans had hosted a dinner party the previous weekend, and Nancy and Ned, along with George and Burt, had been in attendance. When Nancy had mentioned her nausea and general exhaustion, Bess had clapped with glee. "Oh, I'm so happy for you," she had said, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Nancy had glared at her. "Bite your tongue," she told her best friend. "I'm not ready for... that."

"Doesn't matter, if it's ready for you," Bess had pointed out with a grin. Bess and Dave's daughter Michelle had just learned how to crawl, according to her doting parents; during the dinner party the baby was in River Heights with Bess's parents, so the guests weren't treated to that spectacle in person.

Even so, when the doctor re-entered the room with a wide grin on his face, Nancy felt her heart sink. "Congratulations, Mrs. Nickerson," he told her.

The prospect of returning to work after the doctor's news was ludicrous. Nancy called her editor to excuse herself; she had made sure her story was filed before the appointment, so she didn't need to rush back to the office. When she walked through the front door of their home, Maria stood. A newspaper was spread out on the kitchen table in front of her, and a pan was simmering on the stove.

"Hola, Señora Nancy," Maria said, sounding slightly perplexed. She hadn't been expecting to see Nancy that afternoon; of course she hadn't.

"Hola, Señora Flores," Nancy replied, putting down her jacket and briefcase. She gave Maria a tired smile. "¿Cómo estás?"

Nancy asked about Maria's uncle, who had recently begun working at a Chicago restaurant after his arrival in the States, and looked at the dinner Maria had already begun to prepare, smiling as she told Maria that she couldn't wait to taste it. Inside Nancy felt numb, and while talking to Maria was helping distract her, she made herself a mug of tea and took it to the bedroom. She let her smile drop once the door was closed, toeing out of her heels, crossing to the bed.

She didn't know how to feel. She knew how she was supposed to feel, but all she did feel was dread.

She dimly remembered Maria telling her goodbye, but when Nancy next opened her eyes, her husband was just walking into the room. "Still feeling unwell, sweetheart?"

Nancy reached up and covered her eyes briefly. "Mmm. What time is it?"

"Time for dinner." He came over to her and when she opened her eyes again, he cupped her cheek. "Were you able to go see the doctor?"

She took a deep breath and nodded, then forced a smile. "He says with any luck I'll be feeling better soon."

Maria had prepared roasted chicken, rice, and green bean casserole for their dinner. Together Nancy and Ned set the table and sat down, and Ned reached over, taking her hand. "I'm sorry you don't feel well, sweetheart, but I am happy to be able to eat with you."

Nancy stroked her thumb over his, glancing down at her plate. "Well, I have a feeling we'll be eating together a lot more often."

"Oh?"

Despite the turmoil she was feeling, when Nancy looked into her husband's eyes, anticipating the way he would react to what she was about to say, she felt a small thrill go down her spine. "The doctor said that I'm pregnant," she said, searching Ned's eyes.

Ned's eyes widened, and the smile on his face widened to a huge grin. "He did?"

Nancy nodded, and Ned came out of his chair, lifting her out of hers, gently. He embraced her, and she could hear him laughing. "Oh, sweetheart... but you've been sick?"

"Morning sickness," she told him.

"Is that... is it bad? A bad sign?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, no. A lot of women have it. It's not a bad sign at all."

"Oh..." Ned put her back down, cupping her cheek as he looked into her eyes. "Oh, Nancy, I can't believe it."

She smiled at him. "So you're pleased?"

"You know I am." He kissed her gently. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so happy. I hate that you've been sick... but the doctor did say you'll feel better soon?"

She nodded again. "Yes. I... I'm so glad you're pleased."

Ned searched her eyes, and his grin faded just a little. "I know we weren't planning for this," he said softly. "It had to be a shock."

Nancy blinked a few times, cupping her hand over his. "It is," she admitted. "I can't... I had so much I wanted to do," she said softly. "Before... this."

"And you will," he told her. "Nan, we'll figure this out, okay? It's going to be all right." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Oh, love, I can't believe it..."

She embraced him hard, swallowing the tears that had been threatening since Dr. Collins had given her the news that afternoon. Ned was pleased. Everyone they knew would be pleased.

And Edith's words came back to her again. Maybe she had been able to work after their wedding, but once their first baby came along...

Ned couldn't stop smiling through dinner, and afterward he asked if she would mind his giving his parents the news. They sat down on the couch together and Ned laced his fingers through hers as his father answered the phone. When Ned told his mother, Nancy heard her delighted cry even though she was on Ned's other side.

Then, after Edith asked to speak to her daughter-in-law and asked a series of flurried questions that left Nancy's head spinning, Nancy called her father's house and gave him and Hannah the news. Both Hannah and Edith promised that they would be available to help out with the new baby, that they would take her shopping and get her plenty of supplies in preparation.

Nancy had been in dozens of stressful situations and kept perfect control of herself, but when she hung up the phone an hour later, she was overwhelmed. She had called Bess, George, her Aunt Eloise, Helen, and her great-grandmother, just to get it out of the way, and Ned mentioned calling his own grandparents, but when he saw the look on Nancy's face, instead he pulled her into his arms. She cuddled against him, pressing her face against his neck, just making herself breathe. Finally, she had found a scent that didn't make her stomach turn. His skin and aftershave were a familiar combination, and the warmth of his arms around her made her feel almost safe.

"I love you," he whispered, stroking his fingers down her back. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry you're upset, but everything will be okay. It will."

She kept her eyes closed as she smiled, very briefly. "You're always so optimistic," she murmured.

"Hey. We made it to our six-month anniversary," he reminded her. "We've spent two years figuring this out, and we'll figure this out, too."

When the first tear spilled down Nancy's cheek, she felt awful, selfish, and terrified. Ned was so happy, but with every comment she had heard during the evening's telephone conversations, she had realized again how out of her depth she was. Edith had told her to get all the sleep she could now; she wouldn't be getting any once the baby was born. Bess had promised to show her the ropes, and even to let Nancy and Ned practice by keeping Michelle for a few hours over some weekend—to start, anyway. Both of them had said, faintly self-satisfied tones in their voices, that Nancy simply had no idea what she was getting into.

Her body had always been her own, and now a child was growing inside her, a piece of both of them. Ned was ecstatic. He would want her to be ecstatic too.

But she just wasn't ready. Not yet.

She had no idea how to be a mother.

Ned brought his hand up and cupped her cheek, and when he felt her tears, cool against his skin, he moved back to look down at her face. She tried to smile at him, but another pair of tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Tell me how to make you feel better," he whispered.

She shook her head, slipping her arms up around his neck and holding him. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm just... it's just a shock. I'm sure tomorrow I'll feel better."

Their anniversary dinner that weekend was lovely, and Ned, sensing how uneasy she still was with the topic of her pregnancy, didn't bring it up during their conversation at the restaurant. Instead he joked with her, laughed with her, as they reminisced about their first meeting, their honeymoon, cases Ned had helped her solve. Then, that Sunday, when they had lunch with Ned's parents, Edith said she would send Ned's old crib home with them.

Slowly the large, bright room at the back of the house officially became their nursery. Ned and Nancy put up wallpaper decorated with nursery rhyme characters, and Edith sent over a dresser to hold the baby's clothes. Bess was happy to lend Nancy baby clothes until she had need of them again, and was full of tips about nursing and bottle-feeding, diapers, and what to do about colic.

Nancy became better about hiding it, but she was still afraid when she thought about it. A baby. Babysitting Michelle just made her more sure that she had no idea how to take care of a child; after only two hours with the little girl, Nancy felt exhausted, her nerves on end.

But then, one night after dinner while she and Ned relaxed in front of the television set, Nancy with her feet up and Ned promising to bring her anything she needed to be more comfortable—she felt it.

She felt the baby quicken inside her, in a flutter of tiny limbs.

She had known her pregnancy was real, but some element of it hadn't really sunk in, not until she felt that.

Ned looked over at her when she gasped, his arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Without thinking about it, she took Ned's other hand and guided it to the gentle curve of her belly. "The baby," she said softly, and glanced up at him. "It... it moved. I could feel it."

Ned's eyes lit up, and while he was disappointed that he was unable to feel it too, he was still smiling when he looked back at her face. "Sweetheart, you look the happiest I've seen you since you told me."

She blushed a little. She had told him how nervous she was, but he had never seen her as fully out of her element as she felt she would be with a child. "It didn't quite seem real," she explained softly. "I know that sounds silly..."

"It doesn't," he told her. "And I want you to be happy, love. I know you're afraid, and I am too, but there are no words for how—how delighted I am. I can't wait to share this with you."

She tipped forward, pressing her lips to his. "I'd never be able to do this without you," she told him softly. "And I wouldn't want to. Ned, I know you're going to be such an amazing father."

"And you are going to be a perfect mother, love."

That was the moment when Nancy finally began to anticipate having their baby, instead of dreading it. She was still nervous about what would happen after the baby was born, nervous at the thought that somehow she would never end up going back to work, that her nightmare vision of marriage would come true, but that hard fist of paralyzing fear had begun to relax. Ned had promised her he would do everything he could to make her happy, and since they had made it through that first rough six months together, they were communicating, happy together. Maybe the thought of raising their child did make her nervous, but Bess confided that she had been terrified during the majority of her pregnancy and the first year of Michelle's life, even though her parents and Dave's parents had been around to help her through it.

And Nancy knew that her mother's presence wouldn't have made her pregnancy any different or easier, but she couldn't help wishing that her mother was there. Whenever they discussed baby names, Nancy kept it in the back of her head, a desire to name a little girl after her own mother. She eventually mentioned it to Ned, who agreed with her. If they had a daughter, her middle name would be Catherine.

The doctor put Nancy on bed rest for the last three weeks before her projected due date, and a week early, Nancy and Ned were at the hospital. She was in labor ahead of schedule, and while Ned was doing his best to be calm, knowing that his agitation would just upset his wife further, Nancy could tell that Ned would make sure the best possible care was taken of her and their child—in the event Nancy herself was unable to do so.

Many of the women who had come to the baby showers thrown by her friends and family had told her such horror stories about their births: of falling into a chemical sleep in their hospital beds, waking to find that their babies had been born in their absence. A few told Nancy terrible stories of infants permanently scarred by the grip of forceps, born so sluggish that they actually needed to be resuscitated. The prospect of giving birth with only a few painkillers instead of succumbing to that strange twilight sleep held its own horrors too. Helen's friend Susan had delivered her second child without anesthesia or other medicines, and she said the pain was indescribable—but she had been conscious, and able to hold her baby in her arms right after the labor was over. They all assured Nancy that bottle-feeding was definitely the way to go, since she and Ned had the money to buy formula. The formula had to be better for the baby. It was scientific. Besides, they said, what woman would want her breasts to swell with milk for six months?

Nancy had taken all their suggestions into consideration, had even bought a few books about the birthing process, and while she had occasionally fought with her obstetrician over their plans for the birth, he seemed a rather reasonable man.

That had been before she had gone into labor early, though, and when they reached the hospital, both Nancy and Ned were keyed up and terrified that something could be wrong. Nancy distantly remembered that some women did go into labor prematurely with their first baby, but that didn't serve to assuage her fears much.

Her obstetrician suggested that Ned would be more comfortable waiting in the outer room while Nancy went through her labor, but with one glance between them, Ned shook his head. Nancy was already afraid, and the thought of going through the delivery of their child without him was just making her feel worse. He had been so supportive of her during her pregnancy, tried to do everything he possibly could to ease her mind and make her more comfortable, and he had no intention of stopping now. The obstetrician suggested again that Ned wait outside, but Ned said that he was staying put. His wife wanted him there and he was going to be there for her.

Her labor was long, but Ned stayed for all of it. He brought her ice chips when she was thirsty, wiped the sweat from her brow, held her hand during the terrible pains that left her trembling with relief when they were over.

Finally, very late that night, after pushing and pushing until she was exhausted, they heard the first cry. Nancy's face was wet with tears and sweat, and she had never been through an experience that had ever left her so worn-out and incredibly bone-tired as this one.

"It's a boy."

Nancy sighed in relief, tipping her head back, as Ned laughed, squeezing Nancy's hand. The nurse cleaned up their son and brought him over, and Nancy felt delirious.

Then she looked down into his face, his perfect face. The little boy who had grown inside her for so many months, the press of his tiny foot or hand sometimes bumping the inside of her belly, so firmly that Ned had been able to feel it when he had placed his hand over her flesh. The closer she had come to her delivery date, the more anxious she had felt to meet him, and the more terrified that she somehow never would. But he was here, five perfect miniature fingers on each waving hand, flushed and long-limbed.

"Hello, sweetheart," she cooed at him, her voice weak. "Hello, little one."

"Oh, Nancy," Ned murmured, his voice awestruck as he leaned over her shoulder to look at their baby. "I can't believe it."

Nancy smiled, gently brushing the back of her finger down their baby's cheek. "Mmm. You are so beautiful, little one. Do you want to meet your daddy?"

She could almost feel Ned's eagerness before she turned and let him take their son out of her arms, but she couldn't take her eyes off her husband's face. Ned was visibly moved, and the wonder and adoration on his face when he looked down at his son made Nancy warm and pleased.

"Oh... hello, little one," he whispered. "I've been waiting so long to meet you. I can't believe... oh my God."

Ned glanced over at his wife, and his dark eyes were gleaming. "He's perfect," Ned whispered. "Nan, I love you so much."

She gave him a tired smile. "I love you too."

They named him David Jason—Jason for both his grandparents, James and Carson—and he was born with tiny wisps of brown hair and blue eyes. Nancy had been told that all babies were born with blue eyes, but she couldn't help hoping that his wouldn't change color. Before Nancy left the hospital with him, her room was full of congratulatory flowers, and all their friends and family had visited. Carson, Hannah, Edith, and James were all beyond delighted to meet their first grandchild.

David's bassinet was in Nancy and Ned's bedroom, but the nursery was finished and ready for him. The crib had been polished and fresh clean linens put on the mattress. The dresser was stocked with tiny outfits. Other experienced mothers had given Nancy practically a medicine's cabinet worth of creams, salves, lotions, and bathtime shampoo for David. The last touch had been the rocking chair, which stood invitingly in the corner, a pillow on the seat, a quilted throw folded over the back. They had bottles, toys, diapers, everything anyone could have imagined they would need.

Edith arrived the first morning Nancy was going to be home alone with David. The baby was crying, and while Nancy, exhausted and nervous, changed his diaper, Edith went to the kitchen to prepare the baby's bottle. She showed her daughter-in-law how to hold it so David wouldn't draw air and need to burp quite so much later, and as Nancy settled in the corner of the couch still wearing her day dress, the warm squirming bundle of her son in her arm while she held the bottle with the other, Edith sat down beside her. Soon David quieted down, and the only sound was his rhythmic pull on the bottle.

Nancy sighed, then glanced over at Edith with a small smile on her face. "Thanks," she said. "You make it so much faster than we can do it yet."

"I had a lot of practice," Edith said with a smile, then looked down at David's face. "He's so handsome."

"He is," Nancy agreed, moving to settle more comfortably on the couch, then shushing David when he squirmed in answer. Nancy's body had changed so much during her pregnancy, and she wondered how long it would take her to get back to the way she had been—or if she ever truly would. "He's so tiny... so perfect."

"And life will be much easier once he sleeps through the night."

"Oh. Oh, I hope so." Nancy stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

Edith poured them both cups of coffee, and once David had finished his meal, Nancy burped him. When Edith offered to hold him, Nancy passed him over to her, and Edith peered into his sleepy eyes and smiled at him.

"Hello, darling," Edith crooned softly at him. "Hello, little one. Are you sleepy? Would you like to let mommy get some rest?"

Nancy couldn't help stifling another yawn; she was so exhausted that the coffee had little effect. "I... Is he falling asleep?"

"He is," Edith said, keeping her eyes on him. She cuddled him to her. "And you'll get the most sleep while he's asleep. Go lie down; I'll be here."

Nancy was so tired that she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, despite the light coming through the curtains. The longest David had slept in one stretch had been three hours, and although Nancy and Ned had only been alone with him for that first night, determining why he cried and what to do about it had been harder on little sleep. Nancy hadn't fully recovered from her long labor yet, and she still felt almost disconnected, a little like she was sleepwalking from exhaustion. Making David's bottle, changing his diaper, shushing and rocking him...

Eventually Edith would go home. She—she and Ned—would have to do this all themselves.

Hunger pangs woke Nancy, and Edith had a pot of soup simmering on the stove when Nancy pulled herself out of bed. She found her mother-in-law sitting in the rocking chair with David, and her arms ached to hold her son. Edith handed him over easily, and Nancy cuddled him close to her, shushing him as she gently patted his back. They went back to the living room, and Nancy smiled her thanks to Edith as she served them both bowls of soup with crackers.

David was just settling down after his next bottle, burping, and changing cycle when Nancy looked over at Edith. "Thank you," she said. "And I just want to apologize."

"Apologize?"

Nancy gently stroked David's back again, as he squirmed against her for a moment. "I didn't understand," she said. "I thought... this... would never work for me. I thought that Ned needed someone who... who could stay home and keep house for him, and I was so terribly sad when I thought that person wouldn't be me. And if you hadn't said anything, I don't know what would have happened.

"And I'm sorry that I... I was so upset when you said things would change after our baby was born. I didn't understand. I didn't want anything to change."

Edith just kept her sparkling, intelligent gaze on Nancy.

"But he's everything to me," Nancy admitted, her voice hushed. "David and Ned are everything to me. I love both of them so much."

Edith patted Nancy's knee. "I know you do," she said with a smile. "And it's impossible to explain how everything changes the first time you look into that little face..."

"Or the first time I felt him kick," Nancy said, nodding. "Oh, I'm so incredibly grateful for them both. And I am so glad, so happy to be with them."

"I'm glad you found a way to be happy together," Edith said. "It would have broken my heart if you two hadn't worked out. That first year of marriage, learning to be around each other, it's always hard."

Nancy nodded. "And I would never be able to find a sweeter, more considerate man," she said softly. She smiled when David made a soft sighing sound and snuggled against her.

"I hope I can raise your grandson to be like him."

Edith's smile broadened. "I think, with the two of you as his parents, it'll be tougher to keep him out of trouble," she pointed out. "But he will undoubtedly have a good heart. And he already has such curious blue eyes..."

David was gazing up at his mother, and when Nancy looked down at him and smiled, he gurgled in response. "Hi, little one," she whispered. "Will you be like me, or like your daddy? I'll love you either way, but you really should be nice to Ned and like football, okay? Even if you like mysteries too, your daddy loves football, and I'm sure he would love to teach you how to play in a few years."

Nancy had no idea how she would have made it through those first few weeks at home with her son without Edith's help. Her moods were entirely unpredictable, and hearing David cry in the middle of the night could leave her feeling disoriented and upset for the rest of the day. Whenever she expressed any desire at all to go back to work, she watched Ned carefully for any sign that he wanted her to stay at home with the baby instead, but they had talked about it often during her pregnancy and he didn't seem to have changed his mind. His mother and Hannah were both more than willing to keep David while his parents were at work, and Bess even offered to watch him one day a week, just to get some experience with taking care of a little boy. "I just know Dave wants one," she had told Nancy, as she had cuddled David in her arms during a visit. "Especially now that Ned has one."

David was just over five weeks old when Nancy left him with Edith, making her mother-in-law promise to call if anything happened—even though Nancy knew Edith had infinitely more experience with taking care of an infant than Nancy herself, she still worried about him while she was at work. For her first day back McPherson had put her on light duty, covering a press conference at City Hall in the morning and writing it up for the next edition. Nancy felt strange not listening for David's cry, and she called home at lunchtime and then before she left work, just making sure everything at home was going all right.

Every night that week, when she returned home and was able to hold David in her arms again, Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. She missed him when she wasn't at home, and while she hated the thought of missing his first smile, his first laugh, his first steps, being able to go back to work had been good for her. She didn't envy Bess at all, at home all day with Michelle while Dave was at work, complaining when she called Nancy that their conversation was the first one she had held all day that wasn't in baby-speak.

Edith kept David on Mondays and Thursdays, Hannah on Tuesdays and Fridays, and Bess on Wednesdays. One Friday soon before Nancy and Ned's third anniversary, Nancy came home just after work, beating her husband in—while Ned was equal to the challenge of watching David until Nancy was home, Friday afternoon had been slow and the office had been almost dead—and Edith smiled as she handed David over.

"Hello, love," she told him, and David gave her his delighted, toothless grin. "Have you been good for Grandma Nickerson?"

"He's been a very happy boy today," Edith reported. "And you're sure about next weekend?"

Nancy nodded. "My father says he would love to spend some time with David while we go out for our anniversary," she said. "But if anything comes up, I'll be sure to let you know."

Before her mother-in-law left, Nancy went over the schedule with her, making sure that she knew when David would next need a feeding. She changed into one of her faded housedresses and scooped David up again, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek that made him coo with delight.

Edith was smiling again as she slipped into her light sweater. "You're a natural at this," she told Nancy.

Nancy kept gently stroking David's back as she looked at her mother-in-law. "Really?" she murmured, and she was surprised when she could feel tears rising in her eyes. She had spent so much of her pregnancy and the beginning of David's life terrified that she would screw this up, that she would be a bad mother—and convinced that Edith was judging her for going back to work instead of giving up her career to take care of their child. And, in all honesty, Nancy still worked hard, but she was also home almost every night, eager to see David again, to talk to Ned about his day.

Before, she and Ned had had each other, and she had thought that was all she really wanted. Now that they had David, though, she wouldn't give him up for worlds. Not even with all the hours of sleep lost, the cries shushed, bottles prepared, diapers changed. Not even the pain she had gone through delivering him, which felt almost like a dream now.

Hearing that Ned's mother actually thought she was doing a good job touched Nancy more than she could say.

Edith nodded. "Now you just have to decide when you're going to start trying for the next one," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

The Saturday night they celebrated their anniversary, Nancy put on the blue dress Ned had always loved on her, and they both kissed David goodbye before leaving him in Hannah's comforting embrace. Carson congratulated them both on their anniversary, his eyes lighting up as Hannah handed over his grandchild. "You're getting so big," Carson told him, wonder in his voice. "Tell your mommy that you want to see your Grandpa Drew more often, okay?"

On their way into the city from River Heights, Ned updated Nancy on one of the projects he was handling, thanks to the promotion he had been given a month before David was born. It had meant more responsibility, but Ned had kept a close eye on the staff and production managers for a long time, so the men he depended on were all reliable and hardworking, and had earned his trust. He had been able to delegate many of the tasks and limit the amount of overtime he was working—and he splurged for their anniversary meal, too. The restaurant was French and their meal was exquisite, and they both left full and happy, Nancy a little more tipsy than Ned thanks to the wine he had ordered with dinner.

"Shall we make a night of it, and go to the movies?" he asked.

Nancy smiled and shook her head. "Not tonight. Tonight I want to be able to relax with my husband," she told him, gently patting his knee. The expression in his eyes when he glanced over at her in response told her he was feeling the same way. "But I thought we might take a detour first."

"Oh?"

The subdivision they drove through was pleasant, the houses larger and more modern than theirs. While it wasn't quite as convenient to their workplaces, it did boast a new elementary school, and it would be closer to Nancy and Ned's parents. The yards were neat and well-groomed, with child-sized bicycles leaning against garages and carports.

"It's very nice," Ned commented, glancing over at Nancy. "Are... are you trying to tell me something, love?"

She shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "But I was talking to your mother, and... I think I would like for us to have another baby. Not right now, but in a year or so. And if we do, I think we might need a bigger house." She sighed.

"But you don't sound happy."

"I love our house," she told him. "I love that we put so much work into it together. And a part of me hates the idea of moving out here, where all the houses look the same."

"We could build on again," Ned pointed out with a shrug. "Even add on a carport or a garage this time. Boy, wouldn't I love that on those cold January mornings." He shivered.

She smiled. "But if we fell in love with one out here..."

"Then we could definitely consider it." Ned lifted her hand, his fingers laced through hers, up to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles. "So you really want to do this again? Have another baby?"

She nodded. "I do. I was just so afraid the first time, that being a mother meant I couldn't really be myself anymore, but that's just not true. And I am so glad you've been so understanding, Ned. It's meant so much to me."

He smiled at her. "I told you to trust me," he murmured. "That night when you were trying to convince me that this would never work between us. Trust me and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I know things haven't always been perfect..."

She reached up and cupped his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do with perfect," she told him. "I don't know what I'd do with a guy who let me walk all over him—or one who would try to walk all over me. It's strange; I hate when we fight, but I love that you're passionate enough to argue with me, and to treat me like what I have to say actually means something."

Ned chuckled. "Well, I hate it when we fight," he told her. "I'm not saying I want my own way all the time, except that I kind of do... but I hate seeing you upset, sweetheart. I do have one favorite part, though."

"Oh?"

"When we make up afterward."

Nancy giggled. "That's my favorite part too," she said. "And if we're very careful... I think we should go home and call my father to tell him we're in no condition to drive all the way out to River Heights, and then practice making David a little brother or sister, for a while."

"Mmmm. I was going to suggest ice cream for dessert, but that plan sounds even better, love."

"And you know what sounds even better than that?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye. "Ice cream and then—bed."

Ned lifted her hand to his lips for one last kiss. "I knew I married you for a reason," he teased her.

"My crackerjack problem solving skills?"

"That, and your gorgeous body, your dazzling wit... and the way you never take 'no' for an answer. Not to mention that I was utterly, entirely in love with you."

"Was?" she repeated softly, glancing over at him.

"From the first time I saw you," he nodded. "Every moment inbetween. And now, especially now."

He pulled the car to a stop at the exit to the subdivision and Nancy leaned over, planting a lingering kiss on his cheek. "These have been the happiest three years of my life," she told him, smiling. "I can't wait to see what the next three will bring."

Ned turned his head and kissed her fully, and she knew there were stars in her eyes when he pulled back. "Even more," he told her, the low tone and hushed promise in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "Trust me, baby."

"Always," she whispered, and rested her head against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, as they headed home.