Part 33 (1/2)

She didn't care about fame or beggars or anything else. She only wanted

to see her brother. The moment the door opened, she pulled her sweaty

hand from Johnno's and shot down the hall.

”Let me see him,” she demanded.

Brian bent over, s.h.i.+fting the blanket from the bundle in his arms. For

Emma, the first sight of her brother was love. Unconditional,

allencompa.s.sing. It was so much more than anything she'd expected.

He wasn't a doll. Even as he slept she could see the gentle flutter of

his dark lashes. His mouth was small and moist, his skin thin and

delicately pale. He wore a little blue cap over his head, but her

father had told her that he had hair as dark as Bev's. His hand was

curled in a fist, and she touched it, gently, with her fingertips.

Warmth, and the faintest of movements.

Love burst through her like light.

”What do you think?” Brian asked her.

”Darren.” She said the name softly, savoring it. ”He's the most

beautiful baby in the world.”

”Got that pretty McAvoy face,” Johnno murmured, feeling foolishly

sentimental. ”Nice job, Bev.”

”Thanks.” And she was glad it was done. None of the books she had read

had prepared her for the exquisite, draining pain of childbirth. She was

proud to have brought her son into the world naturally, though it had

been touch and go during those last hours. Now she wanted nothing more

than to settle down and be a mother.

”The doctor doesn't want Bev on her feet much for the next few days,”

Brian began. ”Do you want to go up and rest?”