Charlotte, Bernie, and baby

"You're here," Charlotte said. "Look. Baby is here."

Charlotte's pale, round face was mottled after a long labor. Bernie passed a damp cloth over Charlotte's forehead, under her sweat-damp blonde hair. Gary had been present for most of Charlotte's labor, switching off with Bernie, who had thrown herself into doula training when Charlotte said she was going to keep the baby.

Or at least keep the pregnancy, Gary recalled. Charlotte went back and forth about whether she was ready to be Mommy.

Bernie smiled at Gary. "Team Baby has delivered."

And it had been a team effort. Bernie had been the anchor player, making sure that Charlotte took her vitamins and made her prenatal appointments, whatever her mood. Charlotte was charming and intense. She demanded support and got it, and Gary felt good when she smiled and thanked him, but sometimes she lived in a world of sensibilities more real than the world where she had to eat, sleep, bathe, change clothes, and be at the clinic on time. Gary had been the chauffeur, the baby daddy, and Bernie's delegate. With some verbal arm-twisting and an occasional Really, Gary? from Mom, Bernie, and Joyce, Gary had started getting good at showing up when and where he needed to, without being told.

And the three of them, Charlotte, Gary, and Bernie, had been lovers for the last six months. Hunger for connection, need for comfort, and release of stress and worry had driven them closer together, as Team Baby, and also as pairs. Bernie and Gary, Gary and Charlotte, Charlotte and Bernie, staying up late, talking about feelings and futures.

In the last six months, Gary felt closer to Bernie than ever. They talked about things that worried them and each time, felt they knew and trusted each other better. Charlotte worried more, and felt the weight of the decision around Baby's arrival. Each time Gary talked about it with her, Charlotte seemed satisfied, unburdened, content. And then it would come up again. Bernie said that it was the same subject with her. "And Charlotte worries about you, too," Bernie told Gary. "I don't know why. You're showing up."

"So little," Charlotte said. "So precious." She looked at Bernie. "You took such good care of me."

"We took such good care of you," Bernie said. "Not just me, and not just me and Gary."

"Joyce," Charlotte said. "And Gary's mom."

Charlotte was estranged from her father. Charlotte's mother had been useless, if not actively a problem, and Charlotte had been struggling to take care of herself. Joyce had asked Gary and Bernie how Charlotte was doing, and after hearing that Charlotte was not doing well, Joyce Bernstein had invited Charlotte to come stay close to Gary in a place she could get support. Charlotte had gone on leave from college, crossed the country, and moved into Joyce and Bernie's house. For the last few months, Joyce's guest bedroom had been the headquarters of Team Baby.

After Charlotte had been assured that Baby was perfectly healthy, she quickly drifted off to sleep. The birthing center wouldn't need them to vacate the delivery room for a few hours, and it was set up to allow that rather than being the surgically pure scheme of tiles and spotlights. Baby was taken to a nearby room where the other routines for a newborn were taken care of. Protective, preventative, double-checking the things beyond the Apgar score.

Gary pulled a chair next to Bernie. They leaned together.

"So what now?" Gary said.

"Now we get to rest a little," Bernie said. "And Charlotte needs to decide if she wants to be Mommy."

"I guess you and I talked about what happens if she doesn't," Gary said. "My mom is pretty strong about me being Dad, here." He yawned. "But yeah. Rest a little."

Bernie squeezed Gary's hand. "What kept you?" she asked.

"Peter," Gary said. "Last chance for a while."

Bernie chuckled. "Yeah."

They rested against each other as they dozed. Nearby, people in cheerful print hospital scrubs bustled around quietly, efficiently, without urgency, now that Baby was here and healthy.