Seamus and Ronan didn’t want me to work, but there was no way I would lay down at home all day just because they were worried.

Because of the pregnancy, I had put off looking for a job of my own, helping at my dad's bar as an unofficial employee. Even though so close to term my movements were restricted, there was no way I wouldn’t help.

It was St Patrick's Day, and there was a big celebration at the bar. Ronan got me to sit down with the tempting offer of getting food to me. He'd learned to cook so we could share the chore, especially once my stomach grew so big.

I amused myself watching the crowd, occasionally someone would come to me for a quick chat and ask when I was due, then go back into the fray. I'd never celebrated St Patrick's Day before. Even though he was Irish, originally born in Dublin before moving to America, Quinn had never given much thought to the holiday.

People were drinking and dancing, plenty of them just making fools of themselves. I would have felt bad about having to sit it out, even though I was still in the room, if not for the fact that I could have this every year now.

But I really was getting hungry, and I perked up when I saw Ronan heading my way with a tray of food and drinks. In my impatience, I stood up, reaching for him with my hands. But I was distracted when I felt something wet on my ass and between my thighs. I froze for a second, wondering if I sat in something. But then I looked down, at the seat, at the liquid still dripping from me and onto the floor now that I was standing up.

I felt my eyes blow wide open and looked up to meet Ronan's gaze. He saw me, his expression going worried as he hurried through the crowd, setting the tray on the table and grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Teagan, what is it?"

He looked confused and worried, probably by the wonder and amazement replacing my shocked face. "I think my water broke."

There was a silence that seemed to spread through the bar, and then everyone was loud again.

The next few hours were frantic, though it was almost funny how everyone else around was being hysterical while I kept my calm. It took all of ten minutes for someone to get a car to drive me to the hospital. Or rather to find someone who could drive, since everyone at the bar was pretty much wasted or close to it.

I was anxious about the baby, but having Ronan there helped. Seamus joined us in the car, his new girlfriend being the driver chosen for the job once we could borrow a car big enough to fit all of us and had enough space for me to be relatively comfortable. I'd been feeling a low-level ache in my abdomen for days, but the first contraction caught me by surprise in the car, and my sudden cut off scream scared the men in the car. I was the one that had to calm Ronan down before he passed out.

Seamus was a changed man, more relaxed and eager to hold his grandson in his hands. Having his girlfriend kept him grounded or he would have been as bad as Ronan. He was different from what I'd thought of him before, though he was definitely dependable.

A few people met us at the hospital as I was taken out of the car, but only Ronan went ahead with me.

Ronan held my hands for what felt like hours of agony and screaming, his hand holding mine and never once complaining at the vise grip I had on him. I wanted to snap at everyone giving me encouragement, 'one more push’, 'you're almost there.' Plenty of other words I didn’t even bother listening to. Then finally, there was a loud, high-pitched cry and I fell back, sweaty, and exhausted, spent.

I felt a peck on my forehead, then Ronan was gone for the moment, and I could still hear the baby crying.

After more waiting, Ronan was back, with a bundle of blankets held gingerly in his arms. His eyes were red and there were tear tracks down his cheeks, but I didn’t think I looked any better. I held my arms up to him, the weakness in them momentarily forgotten as he carefully passed the precious bundle that I brought close to my chest.

"It’s a boy," he whispered, his voice loaded with emotion, and when I glanced up, he was beaming at me.

I couldn’t be as exuberant, though I wanted to be. But I was feeling tired after the past few hours and it was hard not to just close my eyes and go to sleep. Ronan sat on the bed next to me and we spent a few minutes cooing at the tiny, wrinkled creature that was ours. I felt tears in my eyes, wishing my mother could have been there to share the moment with me.

"Why don’t we call him Seamus?" I suggested.

I looked up to meet Ronan's surprised eyes. We didn’t have any names planned since we'd decided to wait to know the gender, then Ronan was too afraid of jinxing the pregnancy by picking out names. But I certainly felt it was perfect.

The moment couldn’t last, though. I needed a cleanup, and the baby needed to be checked out. Ronan went out to spread the news as I was moved to a different room. I got maybe a few hours of sleep before a nurse came in with the baby so I could nurse him. Ronan was allowed in the room as she explained to me what I needed to do. There was plenty more information I would need to get, but once the baby started nursing peacefully, she did leave us alone.

"How are you feeling?"

I smiled, glancing up at Ronan, but I couldn’t take my eyes off our baby for long.

"Just fine. I still can't believe he's finally here. Or how small he is."

"The doctors told me it's nothing to worry about, he'll be growing the next few months."

"Where's my father?"

"Some of the women were preparing the house for us, getting some things for the baby. He went out with them so he'd have something to do. He's been worried about the both of you. I called him and he sounded like he would sprint all the way here, but he is on his way."

I hummed, leaning against Ronan when he sat on the bed beside me without disturbing the baby. We watched silently as he took his fill. Finally, he fell asleep. When the door opened, we both glanced up.

I beamed. "Hey, Dad. Come to finally meet your grandson?"

He froze at the door before slowly walking inside, his girlfriend following behind him. Ronan held his arms out to me and I handed over the baby. He rose from the bed to pass the baby to my father, who looked almost scared though he dutifully held out his arms.

"Meet Seamus Maguire."

I giggled at my father's shell-shocked face. The baby stretched out his little arms, tiny fists curled tightly, his mouth opening in a silent yawn. His face transformed into something like amazement, and then a big grin took over his face.

Ronan came back to sit beside me, wrapping his arms around me as I leaned into him and we both watched my dad coo at the baby, everyone else in the room amazed and amused at how soft such a hardened man turned over my little bundle.

I couldn’t have asked for a happier ending to the mess of our lives.