Francesca
“Hey, Logan! The show’s on!” Francesca called, settling down on her all white couch with a huge bucket of popcorn. “You’re going to miss our triumph!”
Francesca was heavy with their baby; her stomach was so big that she could balance the popcorn bowl on it like a table. Pregnancy hadn’t slowed her down one bit; Diamond Savoy was still thriving under her care, and she even supervised and did a good part of the work putting Baby Lenny’s room together.
Life was good in the little white mansion out in the middle of the desert. The solid white kitchen was filled with the delightful scent of brewing coffee, but Francesca no longer needed the scent to cheer her up. No, all she needed was her man by her side.
Logan stepped into the TV room, a frown on his pretty face. “I am so glad you quit the show, Francesca. Having all of those cameras around and seeing myself on TV is super weird. I’m not sure I ever want to do that again.”
“Eh, the producers are really riding me to do a spin off series with the two of us, did I not tell you?”
Logan groaned. “And you told them no, right?”
“Weeeeell — ” Francesca made some more noncommittal noises as Logan groaned. “It wouldn’t be so bad; it would be better than the family show. Just a few episodes and the payoff is huge.”
Logan made a face, and Francesca felt her stomach flip over at the beauty of that clenched jaw. She curled a little closer to him as he sat down next to her on the couch, careful not to spill the popcorn all over herself. “You already have more money than anyone needs.”
“I won’t if you keep spending it all on charity, Logan! Someone has to pay for all of those toy drives and cancer charities you keep hosting.” Francesca playfully punched him in the shoulder. The theme for the Savoy show came on, drawing Francesca’s attention back to the TV. She stuffed a big handful of popcorn in her mouth and watched as she and her family danced across the screen and the show started.
Francesca sighed as the show progressed, showing Logan slide in, pushing Davis out of her life and taking his spot forever. It was a joy to relive some of the moments, not so nice to relive the others. But it was always funny to watch how much the editing changed things. It looked more like a fairytale than the nightmare it actually had been.
“Ahh, Logan. You saved me from myself. You forced me to break some rules and build the life I wanted instead of the one everyone decided for me.” Logan actually laughed out loud as Francesca punched Davis right in his face, blood spurting dramatically from his nose.
Love filled up her chest, warming her body through and through. Regardless of what happened next, she was pretty sure she’d chosen correctly.
The TV show swiped to Davis’s mugshot, his face looking horribly pale in the photo. “And Davis was sentenced to twelve years in prison.”
It seemed like a fitting punishment, though his father’s lawyers were working hard to get him out of the time. Perhaps he’d spend a year or two in jail before Daddy swooped in and saved him.
“I wonder if power and money just makes people crazy.”
She would have pondered over that thought for a little longer, but then a sharp pain pierced her body, something hot and pressing and urgent filling up her whole mind. She wasn’t sure how, but somehow Francesca knew the baby was coming. “Ahh! Logan!” It was a cry of mingled joy and pain that had Logan turning to her urgently, his face filled with worry. “The baby!”
Francesca turned to look at him, her mouth turning up in a smile, even as sweat beaded on her forehead. “He’s coming?” Logan asked, his face filled with incredulity.
“I think so, I — ahh! Call the midwife!” Francesca took a deep breath, picking up the popcorn bowl and setting it to the side. Her water broke, and she knew this was going to happen, with or without help. And soon! “Call her quick!”
Logan picked up the phone, holding out his free hand to her and guiding her around the couch. It was difficult to stand, to walk, but she managed to inch around the couch and to the downstairs bathroom. “The baby is coming!” she could hear Logan saying, even though the rush of her blood in her ears blocked out most of the sounds around her. “Two weeks early; is that — is it bad?” Whatever the midwife told him over the phone seemed to relax him, the worry lines between his brows smoothing out. “How fast can you get here?”
Wobbling a little on her feet, Francesca sat down on the edge of the tub just as another wave of pain crashed over her, this contraction slamming hard into her body. It was way worse than anything Little Lenny had done to her so far, including all of the spine kicking, and she felt weaker with every new contraction.
“Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Oh, God, what if something is wrong?” Sweat beaded on her face as she sat there, contemplating the moving, squirming thing inside of her belly. “Baby Lenny, please be alright.”
After an eternity and three new contractions, each one worse than the last, the midwife and her team finally showed up. Martha, the head midwife, was all matter-of-fact, bringing in with her a small army and more supplies than Francesca could fathom. “Good thing this bathroom’s really big.”
“Alright, young lady,” the midwife said, snapping some rubber gloves into place on her hands. “Let’s get you out of your clothing, carefully, and into the tub. Logan? Please fill the tub with warm water.”
Feeling a little light headed from the pain, Francesca held onto the woman’s hand as hard as she could while her assistants stripped Francesca’s clothing from her aching body. “There’s a good girl, Francesca,” the nurse’s assistant whispered, smiling at her. “The water will help to relax you and keep you from needing as much pain medication. Are you ready?”
“I think this baby is coming whether I’m ready or not,” Francesca whispered back, trying to smile at the woman. All she managed was a pained grimace.
Logan was right by her side as she was lowered into the water, his hand locked around her hand. “I’m right here,” he said, a forced smile on his beautiful, perfect face.
Francesca cried out a little as the pain in her grew. “Stay right here, so I can see you,” she answered, clutching his hand so hard she could feel his bones grinding in his hand. But her brave, beautiful Logan didn’t even wince.
No, he would always be there for her, no matter what.
# # #
Logan
For Logan, the whole experience was grueling and unnerving. It hurt every inch of his body not to be able to do anything whenever Francesca cried out in pain. He seemed to feel echoes of her pain throughout his own body. But there was joy in her, too; he knew how excited she was to meet her son.
Logan, although Francesca had worked hard to convince him otherwise, was nervous. He had a million questions about being a father, about being ready, and no one had been able to answer any of them. “How will I know I’m ready? What happens if my son doesn’t like me? What if, what if, what if?”
But now he had no more time to wonder; this was happening, no matter if he was ready or not. So he did what he could, standing close to Francesca, fetching her whatever she asked for, and waited. As the contractions came closer and closer together, Logan got more and more nervous. Luckily for him, the midwife and her helpers were completely calm. They kept telling him that everything was going well, everything was fine. And he tried hard to believe them.
It took several hours that felt like days for the baby to make an appearance, and then several more hours before the baby was delivered.
There were no cameras to document the moment, no paparazzi, and no producers. But Logan knew it didn’t matter; this time would be seared into his memory for the rest of his life. He didn’t need the cameras.
With a cry, Logan’s son entered the world.
After a moment, the midwife handed Logan the tiny bundle that was his child. “Lenny?” Logan asked, his eyes looking down at the tiny, crying, squirming little thing that was so warm and welcome in his arms. The baby seemed to fit in the cradle of his arms so perfectly. He was strong, his fingers gripping Logan’s hard as he yawned for the first time.
The little boy had a shock of black hair on his head, making him look so much like Logan himself that he had to smile. Something broke in him as he looked down at that perfect little face, so wrinkled and pink. This little creature was his son. It all seemed too hard to take in; none of it felt real yet. But then the boy in his arms wriggled just a little and Logan’s heart filled with a kind of light he’d never felt before.
Francesca groaned a little from her throne of pillows as the midwife checked her out. She blinked at him with exhausted green eyes, her face pale and beaded with sweat. But in spite of all of that, Francesca was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“How is he?” she groaned, her body collapsed against the pillows like it was too much to try to move.
“Beautiful, just like his mom,” Logan said, bringing Lenny closer. The little bundle wriggled and shook his arms.
“I doubt I’m very beautiful right now,” she chuckled weakly. Francesca’s eyes grew wider, greener, and more filled with love as she looked upon her son — their son — for the first time. Some of the life seemed to come back to her weary limbs, and she sat up, holding out her arms for Lenny’s tiny body.
“Here you go, mama. Look at the beautiful boy you brought into the world.”
Tears slipped down the sides of Francesca’s face as Lenny cradled in her arms, so perfect and so beautiful.
The midwife, Martha, smiled down on Francesca, her steel-grey eyes lighting up at another safe and healthy delivery. “How is mama feeling?”
Francesca nodded. “I’m just fine. I ache a little, but nothing like I thought it would be.”
“Well then, if you don’t mind, we’ll move you upstairs to your bed and get this cleaned up then. You feel up to being moved?”
Logan could feel his heart rate skyrocketing at the thought of moving Francesca so soon, but he turned to her. She would know best. And the midwife wouldn’t move her if it wasn’t okay.
“How about a few more minutes?” Francesca said, her eyes locked on the lovely little boy in her arms. Laughing, the midwife patted them both on the arms and started cleaning up around Francesca as best as she could.
Logan pulled out his phone, taking about a thousand pictures of his little boy. He shot a few of them over the Diane and some to Blade before returning all of his attention back to his son.
A text came back almost immediately from Diane.
“Good, I’ll stop by in an hour, if you think Francesca will be up to visitors yet?”
The another, just a few seconds later. “Good work, sticking by her through this. You’re all right, I suppose.”
Logan chuckled at the texts, trying hard not to roll his eyes at Francesca’s mother. He texted her back an affirmative; Francesca would be up to seeing her in an hour or so.
“Excellent. I’ll bring something. I suppose you haven’t eaten.”
But that didn’t matter; he could go without food for a while longer, if it meant spending a few more, uninterrupted moments in peace with his Francesca and his little Lenny.
Because for that moment, the world was a perfect place.