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FanFic
The Richard Dawson Experience
Last UpDated: 23 April 2002.
Site Copyright © 2000-2002. Lisa Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Story Copyright © 2001. Rhonda "StuntChick36" Inc., All Rights Reserved.
THE NEXT BATTLE: PARENTING
After a romantic candlelight dinner, Peter and Freddie decide to take a leisurely stoll through Piccadilly Circus. They share a few hearty laughs over the memories of their 'old days' at Stalag 13 and remember with pride the big parade that passed Buckingham Palace in honor of the returning British forces when everyone returned home.
They are celebrating their recent discharges from the military, and both are ready to return to civilian life. Freddie has taken a job at an automobile plant, using her mechanical skills she aquired from the army, and Peter has found work as an entertainer again, this time as a comic actor at the prestigious Drury Lane Theatre.
The couple walks slowly around town, taking in the sounds of peace. Many of the stone buildings and structures are still in various states of disrepair, but day after day the Londoners come back to rebuild them.
Holding his wife's hand as they walk along, Peter looks at Freddie's wedding band.
"I still can't believe it," he says with a smile.
"What?" she asks. He holds out his left hand with his palm down, showing off his gold ring.
"We're married now." She chuckles lightly.
"Scary, isn't it?" Peter tugs lightly on her hand and pulls her arm around his waist as he puts his hand around her shoulder.
"No. It's wonderful. We're goin' into the home stretch of our first year as man and wife."
"Yeah. Boy, eleven months already." He kisses her on the cheek.
"And what a lovely year it's been." He takes a deep breath and says, "Everything's finally returnin' to normal 'round here. The air doesn't smell like singed steel and burnin' truck tires anymore."
"Yeah," agrees Freddie. "The London skyline finally looks clear again. Remember how smokey it used to be?"
"It was bloody awful," Peter says. "I remember when you couldn't see the Parliment buildin'." He squeezes her gently. "But we stopped it."
"We sure did." They pass by stores that have since removed the boards from the windows, compelling them to stop and look in. "It's good to see these open again. I was beginning to think the war had closed them down for good."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I thought the whole city moved away. But London's a tough town." They continue on down the sidewalk until they come to an army surplus store with uniforms and air raid equipment in the window.
Peter says, "I thought about givin' my uniform away."
"Why? Don't you want it for posterity? You can show it to our grandchildren some day."
"True, but I've got no use for it. I'm not in the Air Force anymore."
"I'm not in Army anymore, but I'm keeping my uniform. Don't you want to brag a little about that extra stripe you earned when you came home from Germany? My father said that when he saw you marching in the victory parade, he could see the pride in your face. He knew it was because you became a sergeant."
He smiles. "Becomin' a sergeant was fine at the time, but I'm an actor now. The only time I'll wear stripes again is if I'm doin' a military play or if I'm a zebra for Halloween."
Both of them share a brief laugh before Freddie declares, "I've thought about re-enlisting, you know."
Peter's mouth drops open. "You're not serious."
"I am."
"But you promised you'd stop fightin' when the war was over."
"I know I did, and I'm not going to break that promise. I'm thinking on using my promotion to staff sergeant to my advantage. Staff sergeants work at desk jobs or become non-commissioned training officers. They hardly ever leave London."
"But why do you wanna do it? Don't you like workin' at the auto plant?"
"I like working on cars, but it's not exciting. It's alright as a hobby, I suppose, but I want something more. When I was a soldier, I felt useful. I miss wearing a uniform."
He shakes his head. "You're barmy."
She smiles. "Yeah, I am." They walk along slowly, deeply inhaling the freedom that they both fought so hard for.
"Would you really go through with it?" asks Peter, breaking the silence.
"What? Re-enlistment?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, I don't know. Probably."
"I still don't understand why you'd do it."
"The army would pay a little more than the job I have now. We could always use a little extra money."
"Don't I make enough for us?"
"Yes, you do. I'm just saying that it would be nice if we had a little tucked away incase you needed to travel. Say, for instance, you were an understudy for a leading man who caught pnumonia and you're suddenly called away to Manchester to take his place. You could take that extra money with you so you'd be able to eat well and stay in a decent room." She squeezes his hand. "That's all that I meant."
Smiling, Peter says, "Why do you have to be so bloody intelligent?"
"Because I'm your wife," says Freddie with a big smile.
They both stop walking and she steps closer to him, circling her arms around his neck. His mouth finds hers in a gentle, sensuous clench. Suddenly, he gets an idea. "Freddie darlin'," he asks, "would you do something for me?"
"Sure. What is it?" He pulls her closer.
"Would you... go on a date with me? Like we used to?"
Freddie smiles cautiously and sets her hands on his shoulders. "You mean like we did when we were in camp?"
"Uh huh," he says softly. "Sneakin' off to the hotel, just the two of us." She smiles at him as she kisses his lips. "This'll be the first time you and I have gone on a date as civilians."
"Alright. But I don't wanna get caught by the Gestapo."
Evening settles on London like a dark blanket with diamonds sown into it. An easterly breeze chills the air.
In their hotel suite, Peter builds a small but cozy fire in the fireplace while Freddie lounges on the couch. She admires his body as he crouches next to the fire.
"There," he announces, "that oughta do it."
"I can feel the heat from here," she says. He stands and takes one step towards her, then suddenly stops.
"Wow," he says, catching a glimpse of his wife in her sexy satin pajamas. Slowly, he walks over to the couch. "I think the heat is comin' from me. Seein' you lyin' there made me temperature jump 1,000 degrees."
She laughs as she moves her legs aside so he can sit next to her. As soon as he's seated, she lays her head on his lap, looking up into his face.
"Doesn't this feel just a little awkward?" she asks. He rubs his fingers gently over her ears, knowing how much she likes that.
"No. Why? Does this feel strange to you?"
"Well, yeah. It's odd because nobody's looking for us. Nobody cares if we're here." He thinks for a moment, after which a smile conquers his mouth.
"Good. None of their bloody business anyway." As they share a giggle, Freddie's fingers gently stroke over his lips. Peter sits there silently and kisses her fingertips as they both gaze at one another.
"You've got the cutest smile I've ever seen," she says quietly. "It makes you look like a little boy."
He smiles warmly and lightly drags his fingers down her cheek. "And you're the cutest girl I've ever seen." Freddie sits up a little, meeting Peter halfway in a slow kiss. He carefully cradles her in his arms as their mouths melt together and sing passionately to each other.
"Your kisses should be outlawed," he says breathlessly. "You could stop a ragin' bull with a kiss like that." Freddie starts laughing softly.
"I don't like bulls," she says. "I'm partial to strong and cuddly Englishmen."
"Really? Anyone in particular?" he jokes.
"No, but you'll do until I can find someone else." Peter laughs for a second, then gathers her up into his arms and walks over to the fireplace. He kneels and lays her down on the plush carpet in front of the roaring blaze, stretching himself out next to her.
"I'm gonna show you that there is no one better." Freddie maintains solid eye contact with him as she starts to unbutton his shirt. His strong hands finish the job so she can undo the two buttons on her top.
Peter flings his shirt aside and lets Freddie pull him down to her. She holds his half naked frame close, her hands skimming across his smooth, warm back. His lips kiss the familiar contours of her neck, leaving no spot untouched.
Freddie can see the fire's reflection in his eyes, almost mimicking his soul's desire for her.
"I've never seen you in the firelight before, love," he whispers. "Your skin shimmers like a gold statue in the sunshine. You look so soft, my angel. Almost like a cloud." Her fingers comb over the back of his head, playing with the little waves and curls by his ears as he begins pecking softly again at her neck.
"Oh, Peter," she says quietly. One corner of his mouth raises in a smirk as she brings his face closer to hers. They kiss one another delicately on the lips several times before leaving for other areas of their bodies.
Freddie holds him as his lips tenderly caress her neck and bare shoulders. A sigh of pleasure escapes her mouth.
Peter pulls back for a moment, propping himself up on one elbow and brushing her hair back with the other.
"You are so beautiful, Fredricha. My wife, my one true love." Freddie grins and slides one fingertip down the middle of his chest, watching his eyes almost roll up in his head from the sensation. He moves his hand slowly towards the lacey shoulder strap of her nightshirt. He watches her face for any signs of resistance, but finds only a look of pure contentment.
His fingers slide the strap down just a little so he may place a wet kiss on her shoulder. His mouth gently draws on her soft skin as he works his way over to the center of her chest, feeling her full breasts push against him. Freddie can't help but tilt her head back in delight.
"Ja," she mutters. Almost instantly, Peter groans happily.
"Darlin', you know what happens-"
"-when I speak German," she finishes. "I know. I know it drives you insane with desire." He backs off of her for a moment. "Sweetheart, let me drive you wild. I want to make you happy tonight."
"I am happy," he says. "I can't be anything else but with you." He strokes her blonde hair and says, "But like you said, no one's lookin' for us anymore. We don't have to rush. Let me make love to you like a husband should to his wife, slowly and tenderly, and not like the foolish young man I once was."
Freddie looks at him in surprise, her hands gliding slowly over his thick shoulders. "I don't understand." Peter's fingers lightly touch the soft skin on her chest.
"Tonight," he softly explains, "I wanna take it slow. I wanna make love to your whole bein'. Your heart, your mind, your soul, everything. I don't wanna leave anything out." His thumb caresses her jawline. "Please, darlin'. Let me show you what I've learned from you."
Freddie lies beneath him with her hands rubbing the full course of his back. Her smiling eyes tell him that she understands.
"Like I'd ever say no to you?" she says. Her acceptance of his request brings a smile to his face. He lowers his mouth once again and kisses her.
"I love you," he whispers, his lips still touching hers.
Four months have passed by since their romantic holiday, but their love for one another continues to grow.
Eventhough they didn't experience any serious marital difficulties, their trip seemed to bring them closer together on a more spiritual plane. Both were beginning to feel a great sense of completion and wholeness that was provided by each other.
The happy couple is living in the small upstairs apartment at Herr Raffschneider's house until they are financially stable and can afford their own place. Freddie's father could easily charge them rent, but he doesn't care about the money. Still, every month his daughter and son-in-law manage to pay him something for his generosity.
Freddie is a tireless supporter of Peter's theatrical endeavors, giving him great confidence and reassurance in a profession where uncertainty is the norm. And although Freddie comes home everyday covered in axle grease, Peter never sees her as anything less than his equal, if not more.
With Freddie's love and encouragement as his new weapons, Peter decides to make a bold move. He negotiates, by himself, a deal with the Drury Lane's tour manager to let him be a part of the touring company when they perform in Reading. This may not sound exciting to the average person, but because he's considered a resident performer, this is a major advancement for him.
"Peter," shouts Freddie as he delivers the news, "that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you!" He laughs as they hug, swinging her around and then setting her down.
"I couldn't believe they said yes. I'm so excited!"
"You should be. This could be a big break for you."
"That would be nice. We'd have a little extra money around. Then I could buy us a place of our own. A couple of cars. Maybe even a summer retreat on the Isle of Wight." Freddie reigns him in before he gets too excited.
"Now, now. Let's not get too bold that we lose our shirts."
He shrugs his eyebrows and pulls at her shirt. "Can we? Please, can we?" She swats him in the arm playfully, then suddenly clutches her stomach and groans.
"Do you still have that stomach ache, love?"
"Yeah," she says as she rubs her belly. "I wonder if I pulled a muscle at work."
"I hope not. I think women workin' is a great idea, but I draw the line at anything physically demandin'."
"Me too. That's why I work as a mechanic and not in automotive production. I suppose it's possible I strained too much tightening a bolt or something." She groans again, this time a little louder. "That really hurts."
Peter is genuinely concerned. "Hey, maybe you ought to see a doctor."
"You're right. I'll call this afternoon." She heads for the kitchen table. "Maybe I got the flu."
"Oh, no. Did you get sick again?"
Freddie sits down in a chair. "As soon as I got out of bed this morning. I've been like that for a few days now." Peter goes to her and starts to massage her neck and shoulders.
"Then you better get yourself checked out. In the meantime, I want you to get back into bed, and I'll call the doctor."
She laughs as she turns her head towards him. "Who are you? My mother?"
"No," he jokes, "but I'm willin' to bet all my back pay she'd tell you the same thing." He helps her to her feet and leads her towards their bedroom. "Come on. Forward march. Eins, zwei, eins, zwei..." She starts to laugh and salutes him.
"Jawohl, mein Kaiser."
Freddie goes to the doctor's office that afternoon while Peter returns to the theatre. He wanted to accompany her but she didn't want him to miss the troupe's last matinee performance of "The Playboy of the Western World." His portrayal of the character 'Old Mahon' as won him very good reviews by both the public and the critics.
She returns home about an hour later with some startling and possibly bone-chilling news: she's pregnant.
A flood of different emotions swirl around in her head. Will Peter be upset? Will he be happy? She wants this baby, but will he? Will he leave her because of the extra mouth to feed?
Unable to just sit and relax, she leaves again and goes for a walk around town. She strolls by the park and sees a young mother pushing a pram with a two year old walking beside her. The site of a mother and child never scared her before, but she immediately begins to panic.
"God, what is Peter going to say?" she worries to herself. "He might be happy, but I don't know if he'll think it's a ploy to keep him from touring. But he knows that I want him to go, but... oh, I don't know what to do. Maybe I shouldn't say anything."
Finding no comfort in the world around her, she returns home. Herr Raffschneider is in the kitchen preparing one of his favorite meals, Polish sausage stew.
"Hello, Papa." He turns around and smiles at his daughter.
"Hello, little one. How was your walk?"
"Fine, I guess." She slowly enters the kitchen and takes off her coat. "Would you like some help?" He smiles.
"Ja. Your papa will let you help. Come, come." Just hearing the word 'papa' sends a cold shrill down Freddie's spine. She picks up a knife and starts to peel some potatoes.
"My child, you're trembling. What is wrong?" She looks at her hands, then sets down the knife. She tries to cover up her nervousness the best she can.
"Oh. Nothing. It's been a while since I helped you make your stew. I just don't want to screw it up." He smiles at her again.
"Don't worry, mein Kind. It will all come back to you. Polska stew is a forgiving dish."
Freddie can't take the agony of her secret anymore and slowly begins to cry. Herr Raffschneider sets down his knife and goes to hug her. She buries her face in his chest and sobs.
"What is it, Dricha? Tell me what is wrong."
"Papa, I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."
"About what?"
She lifts her face and says, "I'm going to have a baby." A broad smile makes its way onto her father's face.
"You are?"
"Ja. I haven't been feeling well, so Peter called the doctor. I went, thinking I had a flu virus, but he found that I've got something a little bigger than that." He hugs his daughter happily.
"Oh, mein liebe! I'm going to be an Opa! (Grandpa) I'm so happy for you!" He looks into her face, seeing uncertainty and pain. "Aren't you happy, my child?"
"Oh, Papa. I don't know what Peter will say. He just got a job with the touring company, and he'll be leaving for Reading in a few days. He'll be gone for at least a month, and I don't want him to think I'm trying to make him stay."
"Nein, nein, nein. Listen to me, mein liebe." He takes her teary face in his strong hands and says, "If Peter loves you as much as I believe he does, this news will not upset him. He will probably be so happy, he won't know what to do with himself. When your mother told me she was expecting you, I ran all over town and told anyone who would listen that I was going to be a father. I literally ran! I couldn't do anything else to show my elation!"
"But Papa," she says, "what if he isn't happy?"
"He will be, Dricha," he says wisely. "You are carrying his child. His son or daughter. Your family." He wipes a few of her tears away. "You are making him into something that he alone cannot accomplish. You are going to make him a father. And being a father is the greatest honor a man could ever ask for."
Freddie smiles and hugs her father. "Ja, Papa. You're right."
"Of course I am," he laughs. "And if you are worried about him being out of town, don't be. I will take care of you." He looks down at her abdomen and smiles. "Both of you. Ja?"
She tries to smile. "I know you will, Papa. You'll always take care of me."
"Now, I want you to go upstairs and lie down. Relax. When Peter comes home, we will eat and celebrate. Ja?" Freddie dries her face and kisses her father on the cheek.
"Thanks, Papa." He watches her go upstairs, then returns to his cooking. As much as he tries, Herr Raffschneider can't contain his happiness.
"I'm going to be... an Opa!" he shouts gleefully. Freddie laughs outloud as she enters their apartment.
"Freddie... Freddie..."
She rubs her eyes and sits up. "Huh?" When her eyes finally open, she sees Peter sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Papa told me to get you up. It's time for supper." She suddenly remembers that she has a 'surprise' for him. Fear instantly shuts down her desire to eat.
"Oh. I'm not really hungry. Why don't you go on ahead." He scoots closer to her, setting a hand on her shoulder.
"Are you fellin' alright?"
She doesn't want to discuss it. "I'm fine."
"How did your appointment at the doctor's go?"
"Fine." Peter suspects trouble, but doesn't want to upset her.
"Well, that's good. You're not sick then?"
"No. I'm... healthy." He nods in agreement as he rubs her leg.
"I'll bring your supper up to you in a little bit. Maybe you'll be hungry then."
"Alright." He kisses her on the cheek, then heads for the door. Freddie watches him leave, then closes her eyes again.
Peter returns twenty minutes later with a tray of food for her. He quietly enters their apartment and sets it down at the table. Then he goes into their bedroom to wake her.
"Darlin', I brought some supper up for you."
Freddie opens her eyes slowly. "Thank you, love." He waits for her to get out of bed and follows her into the other room.
She sits at the table and uncovers the bowl of stew, taking a big whiff of her father's creation. "Mmmm..."
"I've never had sausage stew before," Peter says with a big smile. "It's actually very good."
"Papa used to make this all the time," she reminisces. "He'd make it at least once a week, twice during the Christmas season. Says he got the recipe from his grandmother." She carefully spoons a little of the food into another bowl, the small portion getting Peter's attention.
"Still not hungry, huh?"
She sighs. "Not really. But I'll try to eat something." He reaches across the table and takes her hand in his.
"Is something troublin' you, love? You seem, I don't know, upset or annoyed." Freddie looks down and picks at her food, knowing that she can't keep her pregnancy a secret from him.
"I'm just... a little worried. That's all."
"About what?" he asks sincerely. "Is it about me goin' on tour?"
"No, no," she says. "That doesn't worry me, that's a good thing." She sighs and says, "I'm just worried about... something else, and what you'll say."
He laughs. "I can't say anything unless I know what it is." She tries to smile, but finds her eyes filling with tears. She gets up from the table and walks into the living room, with Peter following close behind.
"Darlin', what is it? Was it something I said?"
"Please," she says quietly, "don't think I meant for this to happen. I didn't. I swear."
"For what to happen?" He steps closer to her and sets his hands on her arms, squeezing them gently. "I wanna know what's troublin' you," he says softly.
She sets her hands on his chest, her nervous fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"Peter," she says, holding back her tears, "I'm... I'm four months pregnant." Peter's eyes open so wide that his eyeballs almost fall out of his head.
He stutters, "Y..yy...you mean-"
She almost smiles. "I'm going to have a baby."
His body goes numb, then cold, then hot. For an instant, his knees feel like rubber and his body is held up by strings. He can't help but smile and laugh as he takes her into his arms and hugs her tightly.
"You're... Oh, my God!" he shouts happily. He looks into her face and sees that she's crying. "Oh, Freddie," he soothes. "Shhh... I'm not upset." He closes his eyes as he feels her arms constrict around him. "How could I be upset with such wonderful news?" He drops his face down towards her neck.
She pulls back and his strong fingers wipe the tears from her face, his eyes even misting a little.
"We're gonna have a baby," he says softly. He kisses her lightly on the mouth, then says, "Darlin', this is great. Why did you think that I'd be angry?" Freddie's face is loaded with relief.
"I was afraid you'd think I was trying to prevent you from going on tour."
He takes her face in his hands. "Oh no, no, no. Freddie, you've always been there to support me. I know you'd never do something like that. I married you because I wanted you to be the mother of my children." He drags his thumbs gently down her face, erasing the tears. "This is what married people do, darlin'. And now it's our turn." She smiles and he kisses her. "That job in Reading can wait. I'm gonna stay right here with you."
"Sweetheart, my father said he would look after me while you're away."
"I know he'd do that," he says softly, "but darlin', I'm your husband. I should be here with you, too." He looks down at her belly. "And for our child."
"Peter, I want you to go on tour. I really do. You got that job all by yourself and it would kill me if you didn't take it. That was something you wanted to do."
"Findin' out that I'm gonna be a father is better news than gettin' that job. A million times better." He steps back, then looks down at her belly again. He drops down to his knees, puts his arms around her waist, and gently kisses her abdomen. He can feel a knot forming in his throat.
He sets his hand lightly over top of the soon-to-be lump and says softly, "We don't know one another yet, but I wanna tell you that... I already love you. Very, very much." Freddie strokes his hair as tears of overwhelming joy drip from his eyes.
"Our baby's going to have the best dad in the whole world," she says confidently. Peter starts to cry openly as he hugs her waist.
"I'm gonna be a father," he whimpers happily. "Oh, God, I'm gonna be a father."
She leans over and kisses his head, still coddling him. "The greatest, Peter. The greatest." He looks up at her and pulls her down gently, cradling her in his lap. They hold each other tightly as they weep.
"Oh, Freddie. I love you so much," he sobs gratefully.
Two months later, the baby finally begins to show. It's just a subtle lump, but the whole world can see that the Newkirks are expecting a little bundle from Heaven.
Peter, with Freddie's urging, leaves for Reading as scheduled. Unfortunately, he will be away from home for an extra month. Nobody expected that the play would be such a smash during the early going, but the company was eventually held over because of the public's interest. Peter tries to get himself out of the show, but the management can't because of contractual obligations. Nonetheless, he calls her every chance he gets.
"How are you feelin', love?" he asks sincerely.
"The same." Freddie laughs. "Peter, I haven't changed since the last time you called."
"Oh. When did I call?"
"About an hour ago." The line is quiet for a moment, then he starts to laugh.
"I'm not nervous or concerned or anything. Honest." She laughs with him.
"You seem more concerned and worried about me than I am."
"I'm just afraid that I'll miss something."
"No, that's doubtful. I went to the doctor's today and he said everything is normal. We can expect to hear the pitter-patter of little feet in another three months." She can just picture his big broad smile over the phone.
"That's good. I don't wanna miss that for the world." His tone softens and he says, "I can't wait."
"Me neither," she concedes. "I'm tired of looking like a cow."
"But you're a beautiful cow," Peter points out in jest. Freddie knows he's trying to make her feel better. "Seriously, love, you shouldn't be embarrassed about your appearance. If I was home, I'd take you out every night and show you off. Show the whole world that my wife is expectin' and she's still gorgous."
She laughs. "You're a compulsive liar, but thanks. Oh, did I tell you that I got a letter from Louis today?"
"LeBeau?"
"Yeah. He was just writing to say that he was thinking of us, and told me to tell you 'hello.'"
"Aww, that's thoughtful. I'll have to write to him." She can hear him break off and talk to someone in the background. "Darlin', I hate to do this, but I gotta go. Rehearsal."
"That's alright, love. I understand."
His voice softens and he gets a little quieter. "I wish I could kiss you right now. My lips are so cold."
"Soon, my love. Very soon," she sighs. "I miss you so much."
"Not half as much as I miss you. I'll talk to you soon, alright?"
"Alright."
"Give Papa a hug for me."
"I will. I love you, Peter."
"I love you, too. G'bye." Herr Raffschneider enters their apartment carrying a silver tea service. He sees her set the receiver down and starts to laugh.
"Peter calling again?"
"Yes. Poor thing, he's so nervous."
"It is natural. But, a father is just as nervous with the birth of his seventh child as he was with the first. If you decide to have more children, he'll be the same way all over again."
"I don't know if that would be a blessing or a curse."
Her father beams. "Children are always a blessing." He pours some tea and sits down. "Come. It is tea time. Drink."
She sits next to her father on the couch and sips the nice hot beverage.
"Does Peter have any idea when he will be coming home?" he asks.
"No," she answers. "He figures the company will be there the rest of this month." Freddie takes another sip and thinks for a moment. "He sounds like he hates being there, like he's not enjoying himself."
"Of course he does," says her father. "He is separated from you. When a man realizes that his wife is with child, he wants to be with her every moment, right up until she goes into labor. Nothing else matters, like his job, because it has taken second place to you and the baby."
Freddie sighs, hoping that he can hold on until the play is finished. "I only hope it's not effecting his performance. As much as I'd like to have him here, I'd hate to see him get fired."
"He is a smart man," her father reassures. "I don't think he would do anything like that."
"How do you know?"
He laughs. "Because if he was to be fired, he would have no money to bring home. And Peter is a man who knows that Dummheit (stupidity) won't help his family." They both chuckle at the thoughts of Peter being serious, knowing full well that he's a prankster with a 'devil-may-care' attitude.
"Peter will be an excellent father," Herr Raffschneider declares. "I am sure of that. And I think he knows that, too."
As the seventh month rolls around, the baby is beginning to look even more pronounced. Freddie is now finding it hard to sleep peacefully with a 30 pound lump on her stomach. She's also finding it increasingly difficult to hide her protruding navel, even humorously referring to it as her 'baby thermometer.'
Peter calls her around mid-morning and tells her that he's heading for home. He says that he'll skip the curtain call and take the early train out of Reading, hopefully returning home late that evening.
"I'm so glad you're coming home," she tells him over the phone. "The house has grown so cold without you here."
"Well," he says, "looks like I'll just have to come home and snuggle up with my wife then." He lets out a delighted sigh and says, "I'm still on cloud 9 you know."
"Why?"
"Because the woman I'm crazy about is carryin' my baby."
Freddie smiles. "I'm glad, too. I'm even more glad that it didn't prevent you from touring."
"I still think I should've stayed behind with you."
"Nonsense. Papa has been taking very good care of me, taking me to the doctor and helping me with housework."
"Housework?" he asks. "Shouldn't you be off your feet and restin'?"
"I do rest, but the doctor said that it's better for the baby if I remain somewhat active. I'm extremely careful not to overdue anything."
"I hope so."
"Don't forget," she reminds him, "this baby is going to be my father's first grandchild. He doesn't want anything to jeopardize my health."
Peter lets out a laugh. "You're right. I can just picture your father screamin' at you to take it easy."
"Yeah," she says with a giggle, "he's been a regular mother hen."
Once their laughter dies down, the line goes quiet for a moment. "God, Freddie. I can't wait to see you. I've missed you more than words can ever describe."
She can feel his anxiousness over the phone. "I've missed you too, darling," she says quietly. "I'll tell you what. Let Papa and I pick you up at the train station tonight."
"Darlin', I can get a taxi-"
"Peter, I know you're dying to see me. Let me meet you."
"Alright," he relents. "I should get in around midnight."
"Right. We'll be there."
"Great." He almost whispers into the phone, "I love you."
"I love you, too. G'bye, love."
That evening, around 11:00 p.m., Freddie and Herr Raffschneider pile into the car and take a leisurely 20 minute drive over to the train depot.
When they arrive, they grab a cup of coffee at the station cafe and wait for Peter's train.
Just as Peter predicted, the train from Reading rolls into London Station at five past 12:00. Freddie and her father eagerly wait on the platform.
As the passengers disembark, Freddie and her father eagerly scan the crowd for a familiar face.
Suddenly, a voice shouts from the crowd. "Freddie!" She turns around and sees Peter, in his tweed three-piece suit with his overcoat slung over his arm and his suitcase in one hand, making his way towards her with a gigantic smile spread across his lips.
"Peter!" she shouts back. He pushes his way through the throng of people to get to his wife. He quickly sets his belongings down and carefully embraces his wife.
"God, I missed you so," he says as he kisses her cheek. The smell of his tangy aftershave lotion fills her nose and comforts her.
"That makes two of us," she adds. He backs away briefly so he can kiss her on the mouth.
"How are you?" he asks seriously. "Is everything alright?" Freddie rubs her tummy and smiles.
"We're fine." Herr Raffschneider makes his way over to them and shakes Peter's hand.
"Welcome back, Peter," the older man says. "Come, let's go home." Peter picks up his suitcase in one hand and holds Freddie close to him with the other as they walk back to the car.
When the three of them return home, Herr Raffschneider heads to bed while Peter and Freddie retire to their apartment.
"Would you like some tea?" she asks as she hangs her coat in the closet.
"No, thank you," he replies. He watches her as she moves into the room. "Freddie, turn around for a moment."
She stops and turns around towards him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin'," he says with a small smile. "I just... wanted to look at you." He saunters over to her and embraces her gently. "I missed you so, so much." He kisses her sweetly on the lips before he steps back, still holding her hands. "I'm not leavin' you anymore. From now on, I'm stayin' right by your side." He puts an arm around her shoulder and heads for the bedroom. "Come along, you two. Let's turn in." They laugh as he escorts mother and child to their bedroom.
Freddie heads into their bathroom and changes into her pajamas. With no strength left in him at all, Peter takes off his shirt and tie and lays them on the dresser, then removes his trousers and hangs them over a chair, then climbs into bed without putting on his pajamas. He watches and waits as his wife comes out of the bathroom and carefully climbs in next to him.
"My God, you're beautiful," he says. She looks at him very curiously.
"Is your eyesight going bad?"
"No. There's nothin' more beautiful than the sight of a mother carryin' a child. Especially my wife with my child." She smirks as she reclines on the headboard.
"You're delirious from lack of sleep."
"No, I'm delirious from lack of affection." He scoots himself closer to her and kisses her cheek as he leans back against the headboard. "Freddie, I mean it. You're beautiful."
"Darling," she says, "I know that my appearance would change and I'd look like this. It's not exactly attractive and I know it."
"Yes it is."
"No, it's not. Peter, I've put on weight and I know I look awful." She taps his hand and says, "You don't have lie and say I look good."
"Freddie, you'll always look good to me." He takes her hand and laces their fingers together. "If tellin' you that I think you're insanely attractive bothers you right now, then I won't say it. But you'll never get me to stop thinkin' it."
She smirks and says, "I can't get you to change your mind?"
He curls his lip and puts on his mock tough guy face. "Don't even think about it." She laughs as she leans over to give him a kiss. He reaches around her somewhat wider waist and holds her close to him, refusing to let her go. He carefully lets his tongue graze her lips, hoping she'll let him inside. Sensing his tenderness, she opens her mouth a crack, which he takes full advantage of. He slides his tongue forward slightly and sets it just inside her lips, but doesn't invade her mouth. She clamps her lips around his warm mouth muscle and holds it prisoner while the tip of her tongue teases his. He whimpers as she sweetly tortures him.
Not wanting him to suffer, Freddie surprises him by pushing her tongue all the way inside his mouth. Peter tires to growl with delight, but he's too wrapped up in the moment.
Freddie carefully retracts her tongue and ends the kiss gently. She turns out the lights, then kisses him sweetly on the forehead before she lies down.
"Goodnight, darling," she says.
Peter takes a deep breath waits for her to get situated on her side before he moves closer to her. He slides up against her, getting as close as two spoons in a drawer.
"This feels good," he says as he nuzzles his wife.
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. I slept alone in a cold, lonely bed for the past two months. I thought I would die without the warmth of you lyin' next to me."
Freddie rubs the strong arm that's around her waist. "I didn't have it any easier, mein liebe."
"You know, the tour made my stay in a prison camp look like a holiday." She giggles as he dusts her neck with a few soft, warm kisses. She can feel his hand rub slowly over her womb. Peter gets a little closer to her, close enough so he can feel her body touching his.
"You know," she says, "I almost feel guilty."
"Why?" Freddie rolls over on her back so she can face him.
"Well, I know how much you miss me while you're away, and this will be the first time that we haven't made love after a performance."
He smiles down at her. "Darlin', don't feel that way. Just lyin' close to you after two months of separation is paradise." Again his hand grazes over her abdomen. "You're doin' something right now that's much more important than satisfyin' your husband. My desire for a healthy child greatly outweighs my desire for physical affection."
"I feel like I'm letting you down though."
"No, no," he coos. "You mustn't feel like that. You're not lettin' me down."
"Are you sure?"
"Freddie, you're pregnant with our baby. How is that lettin' me down?" He kisses her lightly on the lips and says, "We'll make up for lost time after the baby is born."
Freddie begins to laugh. "Sounds like I'm never going to get a rest." She rolls back onto her side and Peter crawls up beside her again. "Oh, mein liebe. I wish there was some way I could make love to you."
"Shhh... You're doin' it right now." He gives her a gentle squeeze.
"What?"
"Shhhhhh... Just let me hold you. This is how we'll make love until the baby comes."
She sighs. "It's not fair to you."
"Darlin'," he says softly, "you're carryin' the baby. We both created it, but you're carryin' it. That's not fair either."
"That's different. This is what a woman is supposed to do." She looks over her shoulder at him. "I want to make you feel good, but I can't and that just kills me."
He tries his best to calm her down. "Stop it, love. Don't get yourself all worked up."
"I wouldn't if I could please you." He gives her a little squeeze now and then.
"Dearheart, please believe me. Just holdin' you makes me happy." Suddenly, an idea pops into his head. "Although, I don't see any harm in layin' next to you... in the nude. Do you?"
She smiles. "No."
Peter grins as he climbs out of bed and begins to remove his clothes. Freddie watches him strip down in the moonlight as she removes her pajamas. He hops under the blankets and back into the position he was before.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, Peter says, "I love the way your bare body feels next to mine. The touch of your skin makes me happy." Her eyes close as she feels his lean, naked body push against hers.
"All you want me to do is lay here with you?"
"Yeah." Freddie rolls onto her back, her face looking up at his with confusion written all over it. He puts an arm under her head, prompting her to lay it on his chest. She can feel him kiss the top of her head.
"I still wish there was more I could do for you," she says as her fingers stroke his sparsely haired chest.
"Shhh... Let's pretend we've just made love and we're layin' here holdin' one another close." Freddie rubs his chest lovingly before placing a couple of kisses on it. She then slides her hand down under the blankets to his waist. She waits to hear for any sign of protest before she continues.
With no disapproving sounds, Freddie's hand creeps down the front of his body, nearing the place that she wants to be.
Finally, her fingers feel the warm, fleshy curves of a very familiar object. She watches as Peter's eyes close tight.
"Darling," she whispers, "let me please you."
"Freddie," he says, straining against her pleasant touch, "I won't be able to give you that same pleasure. That's not right."
"I know you'd share it with me if you could," she says. "But darling, just lying here naked with me will only drive you more insane." She watches as she continues to touch him. "Please."
He manages to close his mind off to his sexual excitement and opens his eyes to look at her. "No. I can't." He reaches underneath the blankets and gently brings her hand back out, kissing it tenderly before setting it on his chest. He looks her in the eyes and says, "I want to save that insanity for you."
Freddie's almost hurt that he turned her down, but she also feels more respect for him because of it.
"Me or nothing, huh?" she asks. He smiles with relief as he leans over for a deep kiss.
"You or nothin', love." He lightly kisses her cheek and says softly, "Let the world get along without me. This is where I wanna spend the rest of m'life." His hand holds her and the baby close as she rolls over onto her side again.
Freddie sets her hand on top of his, lacing their fingers. "Then this is where you'll stay."
Peter lays his head close to hers. "I love you," he whispers. "From now until Heaven falls away."
"I love you, too, darling." Freddie smiles as her eyes slowly shut, allowing sleep to infect her body. Her proud husband isn't far behind.
The next morning, Freddie wakes up to find she's alone. She puts on her bathrobe and heads into the living room.
"Mornin'!" comes a cheerful voice. Peter woke up about an hour before she did and he's preparing breakfast.
"Good morning," Freddie yawns. It takes a few seconds for the sight of him cooking to connect with her brain. "Oh, no. What are you doing?" He leaves the stove momentarily to guide her back to the bedroom.
"Oh, nothin' special. Just makin' breakfast in bed for my favorite Mum-to-be."
"Peter, do you know how hard it was for me to roll out of bed? If I lie down again, I'll never get up today."
"That's alright," he says calmly as he helps her back into bed. "There's nothin' important you need to do."
"But Mavis and I were going into town to pick out a receiving blanket."
"I can do that," he smiles. "I'll even take your father with us to make sure I get the right one if you want."
"Oh, Lord," she giggles. "That'd be like sending Stan and Ollie in to defend Europe." Peter laughs along with her until she jumps a little. "Whoa." Peter's face goes pale with panic and he sits down beside her.
"What's wrong?" She sets her hand on her belly.
"Shhhh... The baby just kicked. Here, gimme your hand." She takes his hand and sets it over the baby. The child bops at his mother's tummy once again, bringing a beatific smile to Peter's face.
"Wow," he whispers. "That's incredible." He giggles with excitement as the unborn Newkirk starts pounding again.
"If you think that's something, you ought to try having it hit you from the inside."
He cringes. "Does it hurt?"
"No, just a little pressure, but nothing painful. Now, if I was giving birth to Joe Louis, that would be a different story." Peter laughs.
"Hey, maybe we'll be the proud parents of the world's next heavyweight champ." The thought of raising a boxer draws a long overdue laugh from Freddie. Peter takes her hand and kisses it. "So, what do you hope we have? A boy or a girl."
"Oh," she sighs, "I don't know. I'll take whatever God gives me. If we have a little boy, you can teach him how to play football and how to behave like a gentleman, just like his father."
"And," he adds, "if we have a girl, you can teach her how to be independant and witty, just like her mother." He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into him. "She'll already be born with charm and beauty." She smiles and kisses him on the lips. "Sit tight, love, and I'll be right back with your breakfast." He hops out of bed and heads into the kitchen.
"Mother," she thinks to herself, "I hope you can see all of this from Heaven. Peter is taking very good care of me, and so is Papa-"
Her train of thought is derailed when Peter returns. "I hope you're hungry, darlin'."
She can't believe the monstrous pile of bacon and eggs on the plate. "Mein Gott. Did you leave any food for the rest of London?"
"No," he says with a smile, setting the tray down in front of her. She picks up a piece of bacon and starts to eat.
"I really shouldn't be eating this," she munches.
"Why?" he asks. "Did I make it wrong?"
"No, no. It tastes great, it's just that I don't know if all this fat is good for the baby." She throws a quick glance at her belly. "I know it's not helping my figure any." Peter grins as he pours her a glass of orange juice.
"Here. This'll wash it through." She takes the glass and, in a few large gulps, empties it. Stunned, he asks, "Want another?"
"Yeah, sure." He gladly pours her another glass and again watches her drink this one down just as fast.
"More?"
"No, thank you. If I drink too much, I'll wet the bed. With all this extra weight, I'd never get out of bed in time." As they both laugh, Freddie moves over a bit so Peter can sit and join her.
"No, Peter."
Peter sets the light lavander baby blanket down on the shelf. "What's wrong with this one?"
"Purple isn't right for an infant," explains his sister. "A toddler perhaps, but not an infant."
"Oh." He and Mavis continue to browse the shelves for a nice simple blanket. "I had no idea shoppin' for a receivin' blanket was this complicated."
"It's not really," says Mavis. "Freddie told me what she was looking for."
"She did?"
"Yes. I told her that I was going to knit the baby a pair of booties and a matching stocking cap, and she wanted a blanket to go with them."
"Aww..." They stop and examine some more blankets. Peter picks up one and looks at the price tag. "How don't care how much it's gonna cost me. My kid's gonna have the best."
"I know they will," Mavis says. "You and Freddie are going to be perfect parents." Peter smiles and gives his sister a hug. "Do you know what the baby will be?"
"No," he says. "I think Freddie's hopin' for a boy, eventhough she says it doesn't matter. I, personally, would like a little girl, but I'll take whatever God gives us, too."
"Either way," Mavis jokes, "the child will be spoiled rotten."
Peter smiles. "Yep."
After their endless shopping spree, they finally decide on a pale yellow blanket with a small duck embroidered on it. The color and design aren't gender specific, so when the baby arrives, no one will be embarrassed.
After walking his sister home, Peter hurries back to his apartment with the blanket. He can't wait to show it to Freddie.
"Freddie love, I'm home!" He walks inside and hangs up his coat. Freddie, who was in the bedroom, comes out to greet him.
"Hi, sweetheart." She kisses him on the lips. "Any luck?"
"I couldn't have done better with a four-leaf clover in me pocket," he beams. He takes the blanket out of the bag and hands it to her. "Whatcha think?"
Freddie looks at it, the smile on her face growing. "It's adorable."
"Mavis said that yellow is a neutral color... or something like that."
"She's right. And I think it'll match her knitting really well."
"If anything, our child will be the most colorful in the hospital." They laugh as he steers her over towards the couch and helps her sit down. "How are you feelin'?"
"My feet are swelling, but I'm fine other than that." He sits down next to her and motions for her to set her feet on his lap. He carefully removes her slippers and starts to massage her aching feet. She jumps and twitches as he rubs her sore ankles.
"I can't wait until this is all over," she says. "I'll look and feel like my old self again."
"So, I guess this means that more children is out of the question, huh?" he says with a laugh.
Freddie chuckles. "At this moment, yes. I didn't know that carrying a child was so physically draining. I knew that it wouldn't be easy, but I didn't know it was this hard."
"But you're doin' great," he says reassuringly.
She smiles. "So are you. You've been very helpful and cool-headed. I don't think I could get through this without you."
"You'll never have to get through anything without me," he says softly. "I'm never leavin' you. Not now, not ever." He takes her feet from his lap and sets them down on the floor. He stands up and extends a hand to her. "Come on. Time to relax."
"Are you putting me to bed?" she asks as she takes his hand.
"No. I'm gonna draw you a nice warm bath, and I want you to sit and unwind."
"Would it do any good to argue?" she says jokingly, letting herself be led into the bathroom.
"You'd be wastin' your breath," Peter humorously fires back. "Come on. Get undressed while I start the bath."
"I don't wanna," Freddie whines as he turns on the tap.
"It'll do you good." He tosses a handful of chamomile soap chips into the steaming water.
"I know, but I don't wanna see myself naked. I look hidious."
He turns her towards him. "You looked pretty good to me last night."
Freddie knows she can't win this argument as she looks into his smiling face. She ties her blonde hair back in a bun under the watch of his clear green eyes. She carefully disrobes and tosses her housecoat on the vanity.
"Are you sure you want to see how horrible I look?" she asks.
Peter holds her hands as she stands before him. "That's bloomin' impossible." He kisses her lightly and says, "Now get undressed before I do that for you."
As if by mystical magic, Freddie feels suddenly peaceful. She lets go of his hands and takes off her nightgown. His kind gaze travels all over her near naked body, admiring how she looks in raw motherhood.
"Darlin'," he says softly, taking her hands again, "you are the most beautiful mother-to-be I've ever seen." He delicately rubs the bulge in her abdomen.
"Even if I do look like a zeppelin?" she asks skeptically.
"Would you stop sayin' that? I'm not gonna stop lovin' you just because you're pregnant," he says. "I bet you'll look like you did before just a few short weeks after you give birth. You won't look like this forever, and you know that." He takes her hands and pulls her towards the tub. "Now, would you please sit down and relax?"
"Oh, alright." With his help, she steps into the tub and sits down. He rolls up his sleeves and kneels down behind her as he starts to work the stiffness out of her shoulders.
"There. Now doesn't that feel better?"
"Yeah, it does." Peter's wet fingers slide across her slick skin, massaging every muscle in her shoulders and upper back. His strong thumbs chase the tension out of her neck and send it away from her body. Freddie tips her head back slightly, only to find it resting against his chest.
"That's it, love," he encourages quietly. "Let your whole body go limp. I've got you."
"Mmmm...," she moans. She starts to splash some water on her chest, but he stops her.
"Lemme do it. I don't want you to move a muscle." He reaches his hand into the water and carefully scoops some up to her shoulders. He watches closely as it trickles down between her swollen breasts and around the lump in her belly. Gently he runs his hand down her chest before resting on top of the baby. His face drops down to her ear, his mouth gently pinching her neck.
"Freddie," he whispers, "I can't wait."
"Me neither."
He rubs his hand gingerly across her abdomen. "This will be the greatest moment in our lives."
"Yes, it will."
Peter kisses her on the cheek. "This whole experience has made me very, very happy. Then again, you've never done anything to make me unhappy."
Freddie giggles. "What about all those times I told you that I had a headache?"
He laughs lightly in her ear, "Except for that. You can be so evil sometimes. Tryin' to keep your temptin' body away from me." She kisses him on the lips.
"I'm sorry I've kept it away from you lately, but something's seemed to come between us." They both laugh as he strokes her belly. The laughter subsides, being replaced with calm, loving gazes. Peter slowly moves down the side of the tub, leans over and kisses his unborn child.
"This will grow into something wonderful that you and I will treasure for the rest of our lives." He continues to ease her mind and body as his hands massage down her arms before his fingertips lightly dance up and down her chest. He crosses his arms over her chest and squeezes her as Freddie's hands come up and hold his arms tightly.
Halfway through her eighth month, Freddie begins to experience sharp pains in her abdomen. She goes to the doctor out of concern for the baby, but is relieved to find out that it's only her body letting her know that labor is just around the corner.
For several days, Peter hasn't let her walk around their apartment without him nearby. He's becoming extremely nervous and worried, praying constantly that everything will truly be alright.
Without warning, on a warm spring night, their lives change forever.
"Peter. Peter, wake up." He jumps suddenly as Freddie shakes him.
"What's wrong?"
"It's time."
That's all she has to say. He hops out of bed and quickly changes his clothes. He frantically runs down the stairs on his way to wake Freddie's father.
"Papa! Papa!" he shouts. He bursts into his father-in-law's bedroom and wakes him. "Hurry! Wake up!"
"Peter," says the somewhat startled older man, "was ist los?" Peter is so nervous and scared that he can bearly speak. All of his words mesh together and sound like a whole new language.
"Freddiesgoinintolabor!" Her father's eyes open wide as he deciphers the message and stumbles out of bed.
"Donnerwetter! (Oh, my!)"
In a matter of a few short minutes, Herr Raffschneider whisks Freddie to the hospital with Peter, almost a nervous wreck, in tow.
Once at the hospital, the nurses take her into the maternity ward immediately while Peter fills out the proper paperwork. Herr Raffschneider finds a telephone and calls Peter's father and sister.
With the paperwork complete, a nurse escorts the nervous father-to-be down to the maternity section of the hospital. They turn down a long corridor with many rooms on either side. Just as the nurse heads into one, she stops Peter.
"Wait here, please, Mr. Newkirk. I will be right with you." Stunned and scared, he halts as the door is closed in his face. He steps back and begins to pace.
By now, Herr Raffschneider has caught up with him.
"There you are. I thought you'd left me," he says with a warm smile. Peter, unfortunately, finds no comfort in his humor.
"I'm not leavin' this hospital. As long as Freddie's here, I'm here."
"I know," says the burly man, setting a hand on Peter's shaking shoulder, "I didn't mean to upset you. Come. Sit down."
He looks at the door. "I can't."
"Peter, you cannot do anything except wait. It is all in her hands now. And in God's." He gives in and slowly follows his father-in-law over to the waiting area. "Have faith."
"I do, Papa. I do." He tensely runs his hands through his hair. "I just don't like bein' out here when she's in there. I wanna be there with her."
"I know you do. It is tough, but she is being taken care of by the best possible people." He laughs as he continues easing his young son-in-law. "You remind me of myself when Fredricha's mother was in labor with her. My mother and my aunt were taking care of her upstairs in the bedroom while I was downstairs with my father, my grandfather, and my uncle. I thought I was going to die out of helplessness."
"What did you do to calm down?" Herr Raffschneider smiles warmly and pats Peter's trembling hand.
"I prayed."
Mr. Newkirk and Mavis arrive at the hospital a short time later. They are both just as excited as Herr Raffschneider.
"How is she?" asks Mavis, tending to her near hysterical brother. His face has become ashen out of extreme nervousness.
"I don't know," says Peter. "The nurse hasn't come back out yet. I can't hear anything." He starts wringing his hands. "I wish I knew what was goin' on in there."
"Relax, son," says Mr. Newkirk. "Tyin' yourself in knots won't help her any."
"I can't help it. I hate not bein' in there with her with a passion." He begins to pace again. "This is what it was like when she'd go out on assignment alone. It didn't matter if she was gone for 10 minutes or 10 days. If I didn't go with her, I was beside m'self."
"So, what did you do?" asks his father.
"I prayed for her, asked God to keep the Devil away from her. Then I'd cry myself to sleep."
"Obviously," says Herr Raffschneider, "it worked because look where the two of you are now."
Everything is beginning to make sense. And, for an instant, peace blankets itself over Peter's scared heart.
As the hours pass, Peter's restlessness returns and he again paces the entire length of the hall.
Suddenly, there is a baby's cry coming from the other side of the door. Herr Raffschneider sits upright in his chair with a gigantic teethy grin on his face.
"Peter!" he shouts. "The baby is here!" Peter now hears the baby's cry and bolts back towards the door. The door opens fast and out comes a nurse.
"Mr. Newkirk?" Peter begins to panic as he fires questions at the nurse.
"Yes? How is she? Is she alright?" The nurse smiles happily.
"Yes, she's fine. You can go in now." The young nurse steps aside so he can go in. Herr Raffschneider and the elder Mr. Newkirk shake hands and congratulate one another on their latest acheivement: grandfatherhood.
Peter quietly approaches the white curtain that is drawn around Freddie's bed. He can hear cooing and gurgling coming from the other side. He carefully peeks around the curtain and sees Freddie lying in bed with a little white bundle in her arms. He can't help but start crying, which gets her attention. She turns her head towards him, prompting him to bring his hand up to his face to stiffle himself, but it's no use. The emotional tidal wave is too much for him to stop.
"Freddie?" he says quietly. She smiles, showing her relief.
"Hello, darling," she says. She holds the baby up and shows him the little pink face wrapped in the sterilized blanket. "Come here and say hello to your daughter." Tears of utmost joy and gratitude fall from his green eyes as he begins to blubber.
"A daughter. Oh, God. I've got a little girl." He wipes his tears as he slowly approaches the bed, looking down into the face of the newborn baby girl. The sight of his brand new child is too much for him and he begins to cry harder.
"Hello, angel," he says in between sobs. "I'm your daddy." He carefully runs his finger down his daughter's perfect face, then gently touches the silky blonde curls on top of her tiny head. "She's beautiful, darlin'."
Freddie smiles and says, "She sure is." The proud parents watch as the baby stretches her little fingers.
He hastily wipes his face and says, "She looks just like you, love."
She laughs. "I thought she looks like you. You both have the same nose." Both of them watch as the baby's brand new eyes open and close. Peter can't help but become emotional again.
"She's got your eyes," he whimpers.
"Yeah?"
He dries his face hastily. "Yeah. That same hypnotic crystal blue." The baby brings her little fists up to her face and starts to suck on her fingers while making the sweetest little gurgling noises. Peter extends his index finger towards her and she grips it.
He begins to laugh. "Yeah, that's right. I'm yours." He turns his reddened eyes towards Freddie. "She's beautiful, darlin'. Just like her mother." He kisses her on the forehead and brushes her hair back. His gladness overtakes him again and he buries his face in her shoulder and cries unashamedly.
"Oh, Fredricha. I love you so very, very much."
"I love you, too," she says. She holds the perfect little package out to him. "Here. Hold her and get aquainted." Peter almost looks panic-stricken again, but he reaches forward and takes the little girl in his arms. He looks down upon her with great pride and love.
"You're my daughter," he says to the baby. "My little girl." He looks at Freddie, who's smiling back. "Our child."
"And she's healthy," Freddie adds. "The doctor said she's got strong lungs."
"Yeah?" He looks down at his baby and says, "You're gonna be a little screamer, aren't ya? Yes, you are."
"Oh, no," Freddie teases. "She's going to have a big mouth like her father." He starts to laugh, then sticks his tongue out at his tired wife. She, too, begins to laugh.
"So," Freddie asks sleepily, "what are we going to name her?" Peter sits close to his wife on the edge of the bed with the baby still cradled peacefully in his arms.
"We could name her after your mother," he suggests.
"We could, but what about your mother?"
"As much as I loved me mum," he says, "I don't think 'Matilda' sounds very becoming."
Freddie thinks for a moment. "We could be traditional and name her after the Queen or the Princess."
Her husband wrinkles his nose. "We don't really wanna be traditional, do we? I mean, I always hoped that our children would be unique."
Freddie shakes her head in agreement. "I kind of hoped that our kids would go on to do great things and achieve prominance, too. They need a name that people are going to remember."
He grins slyly. "How 'bout we name her Aphrodite? No one would ever forget that name."
"Forget it? Are they even going to know how to spell it?"
Peter thinks for a moment. "You know what, I can't even spell it." They both break out into laughter.
"I like the idea of a Greek name though," she says. "They had alot of strong mythological figures."
"Like Zeus?" he grins.
Freddie giggles. "I'm not going to call my daughter Zeus. At least not until her beard grows in." Peter bursts out in laughter again while she thinks of another name. "Oh, what was the name of the woman who started a war because of her beauty?"
"Helen of Troy."
"That's right. Helen of Troy."
"Her legend says that her face launched a thousand ships and sent Jason off to find the Golden Fleece."
She smiles. "Why don't we call her Helen?" Peter grins and looks down at his little girl.
"Well," he asks the newborn, "do you like it?" Both he and Freddie watch and laugh as the baby yawns. "I think she likes it." He kisses his new daughter on the forehead and says, "Welcome to the family, Helen. Our little goddess of beauty."
The door opens again, and in comes Herr Raffschneider, Mr. Newkirk, and Mavis.
"Well," Freddie's father asks quietly, "what do we have?"
"A girl, Papa," she answers with a smile. Her father turns to Peter's father and hugs him.
"We've got a granddaughter!" the new Opa shouts jubilantly. One by one, the new grandfathers and aunt gather around Freddie's bed to get a glimpse of the newest member of their family.
"Awww. She's so sweet," says Mavis. "Congratulations." She gives Freddie a hug and kisses her brother on the cheek.
The celebration is cut short when the nurse comes in to take the baby to the nursery.
"The doctor wants the mother and child to rest now," she explains. "We'll give the baby a bath and put her down for a nap. Both of these girls have had a busy night." Peter reluctantly surrenders his child to the young nurse and the group watches as she leaves.
Mavis says, "I don't know what to do with myself. I'm too excited to sleep."
"Me too," says Herr Raffschneider. "But I think I'm going to go to church and say a prayer of thanks." He makes his way to Freddie's bedside and cranes down to kiss her. "I'm very happy and proud of you, mein liebling."
"Thanks, Papa." He then shakes Peter's hand and kisses him on the cheek.
"Congratulations, Peter. And may God continue to bless you both."
"Thank you, Papa. For everything."
"I think," says Mr. Newkirk, "I'll accompany you to church, Albert. Two prayers are better than one."
"Absolutely," says Freddie's father. Mr. Newkirk kisses Freddie on the cheek and shakes his son's hand before he leaves. Mavis waves happily before she follows the new grandfathers out. Now, the new parents are alone.
"I can't believe it," Peter says with a smile as he takes her hand. "We've got a baby girl."
"Yeah," Freddie tiredly agrees. A lazy smile makes its way onto her face. "We've got a family now."
He looks deep into his wife's tired eyes before kissing her gently on the lips. "How are you feelin', love? Are you in any pain?"
"No. I'm just all washed out," she says with a laugh. "Everything went well. No complications at all." She wipes a few stray tears from his face.
"I'm so glad," Peter says. "I was scared to death out there."
"I figured you would be."
He chuckles nervously and says, "You know me too well." All he can do now is hold his wife's hand and gaze at her in awe and respect. "You are the most amazin' woman I know."
"I am?"
"Oh, yes. I've never met a more couragous, vivatious, or sexier women ever. And you're, by far, the bravest." He leans back with her, resting his cheek on top of her head. "No other woman could have given me such a beautiful baby." He kisses her head once more. "Thank you for makin' me the happiest father in the world."
He can't help but shed another tear as her hand comes up and strokes his face. She brushes the warm droplet away, making him feel better.
"I can't wait 'til I can take you both home," he says, winding a few of her blonde locks around his finger. "I won't sleep a wink without the two of you."
"Sweetheart, we'll both be fine here."
"I know, but you won't be home with me. I don't wanna sleep in our bed all alone with an empty crib next to me."
"I'll only be here for a few more days. The doctor wants to make sure the baby and I are well enough to go home first."
"Let me stay here with you."
"Peter-"
"Please, Freddie. I won't go home without you and Helen." He gets up and pulls a chair over to her bedside. "I'll even sleep right here in this chair."
Freddie can't shake Peter's determination. "Alright, love. But I don't want to hear about your sore neck in the morning."
"You won't," he says with a smile. "I promise." He leans on the bed with his elbows, takes her hand, and closes his eyes.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
Without opening his eyes, he replies softly, "Prayin'." She squeezes his hand and waits for him to finish and open his eyes.
"I love you," she says sweetly. She brings his hand to her lips and kisses it.
"I love you, too. For always and forever."
The following Sunday rolls around, and Freddie and Helen are given the doctor's clearance to go home that same day.
Staying true to his word, Peter spent the entire five days at Freddie's bedside, leaving only to go to the restroom or take a walk down to the nursery to peek at his daughter through the window.
He returns from the cafeteria with the morning paper and some coffee when he sees Freddie climbing out of bed.
"Where d'ya think your goin'?" he asks his wife.
Freddie puts on her bathrobe and slippers. "Down to the nursery. They'll be feeding Helen in a few minutes and I wanted to watch."
"But I just brought you some coffee-"
"I'll drink it on the way." She grins and takes the cup, sipping it carefully as he follows her out of the room and down the hall.
Looking at Peter's hairy chin, she says, "Next time you shave, step closer to the razor, won't you?"
"Alright," he laughs. "So, what time are you comin' home today?"
"Early afternoon. 3 o'clock at the latest." He smiles and puts his arm about her waist, pulling her closer to him. "You won't believe how happy I am to have that 35 pound rock off of me."
"Can you breath now?"
"Yeah," she says, "but I'm even happier that I won't have to run to the loo every few minutes. The baby was strategically placed right on top of my bladder, making the slightest urge only a few seconds before a major accident."
Peter tries his hardest to contain his laughter, but he's finding it hard. He tries to mask it under a cough or two, but a giggle manages to swim to the surface.
"Well, I guess that just proves that God has a sense of humor, eh, love?"
"And a rotten one at that," she laughingly agrees.
By now, they have reached the busy nursery. Nurses are moving in every direction, taking care of almost twenty little newborns at once. Some of them are being fed while others are having their first diapers changed. Freddie and Peter can see the flurry of activity from the large viewing window outside the ward.
"Blimey," Peter says. "All that cryin' and fussin' would be enough to drive me crackers."
"Just think. We get to take one of them home."
"Oh, I'm sure the nurses will be grateful for that."
Both of them continue to watch as the nurses calmly go about their work. As they scope the nursery, they find a crib towards the front of the glass with a name card on the end that reads 'Baby Newkirk.' Inside is an infant, all bundled up and sleeping soundly.
"Honey," says Freddie, "there's Helen. Look."
Peter moves over towards Freddie and looks at the sleeping baby. Again, his heart swells with enormous pride.
"She's so beautiful," he whispers to his wife. "And she's ours."
"Here we are, Helen," says Peter as he opens the door to their apartment. "Welcome home." Freddie enters carrying the newest addition to their family.
"This is where you're going to live, sweetheart," she says to the baby. Little Helen's eyes begin looking around her new home, showing about as much interest as a finicky cat with a new toy. Peter takes Freddie's coat and hangs it up while she takes the baby into the living room and sits down on the couch.
"Did I tell you," says 'Dad' as he walks over and sits next to 'Mom,' "that your father gave us your crib?"
"My crib?" She sits in surprise, then says, "I didn't know he hauled that all the way to England when we escaped."
Peter smiles. "He said that he knew someday you would need it again, this time for your children." He carefully takes a hold of Helen's hand, letting her grip his finger tightly. "You're a strong little bugger, aren't ya?" he says to his daughter as he makes funny faces at her.
Much to the surprise of both parents, Helen looks her father dead in the eye and begins to giggle. Freddie looks at Peter in total surprise.
"That's strange," she says. "Babies aren't supposed to do that yet."
"Why? Are they supposed to juggle knives first?"
She playfully nudges him. "No, I mean that babies usually don't know how to laugh until they're about 6 months old. It usually takes them that long to figure out the mechanics of it."
"So, she's a quick study."
"I guess so. But then again, you do look a little funny." Peter puts on a mock angry look.
"Hey," he says with a soft giggle. Putting an arm around Freddie, he strokes his daughter's hair with his free hand, making the little girl close her eyes.
"Look at that," says Freddie quietly. "She likes the touch of her daddy's hand." She turns and looks at Peter. "And so does her mommy."
"I like the touch of her mummy's hand, too," he adds with a smile. "But I absolutely love the touch of mummy's lips."
Freddie takes this as her cue to give him a long kiss on the mouth. It's not deep, but it's just as fulfilling.
Peter looks deep into her sparkling blue eyes and says, "Thank you for givin' me a daughter."
"It was a joint effort," Freddie answers with a laugh. "But you're welcome just the same." She gives him another kiss.
"You're gonna spoil this workin' man's son if you keep givin' me things, you know."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Looking down at his daughter, he says, "You know, I thought I found the most beautiful girl in the world four years ago." He squeezes Freddie's shoulder and says, "Then that girl gave me a child. Now I've got the two most beautiful girls in the world."
"Admit it, liebchen. You're loving every minute of it."
"You bet. If I was any happier, I'd be sick." Peter moves himself into the corner of the couch and eases Freddie back with him.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanna hold you both." Freddie smiles as she reclines on his chest, propping Helen up a little higher in her arms. Peter closes his strong arms around his wife and child. "Mmmm... How's that feel?"
"It's not too crowded for you?" Freddie asks.
"My arms will always be big enough to hold my family. There'll always be enough room and love for all." He strokes his daughter's head. "Trust me."
Stirring herself out of a semi-deep slumber, Freddie sits up in bed and looks over at the crib. It's empty. She then notices that Peter isn't laying next to her, so she puts on her robe and heads into the other room.
She quietly peeks around the corner into the living room where she finds Peter sitting on the couch and holding Helen, with the child's head resting on his shoulder. He kisses her sweetly and rubs her back in an attempt to put the baby back to sleep.
"Oh, Mother," Freddie thinks to herself. "Look at that. Isn't that a beautiful sight? A father and his newborn daughter. Now I know how Papa and I must have looked."
She doesn't realize it, but a tear leaks from her eye and slowly drips down her cheek. As she watches Peter, she can see that he's whispering something into Helen's ear.
"I wonder what he's telling her. Probably that he loves her, or maybe he'll always be there for her. Something like that, something that I know he means." She dries her eyes.
"He's going to be the best father for our children. He's warm, he's loving, and he's caring. I can tell already that he'll be very, very proud of them."
Freddie breaks the silence by calling out to her husband quietly. "Peter?"
He turns his head towards the doorway. "Yes, darlin'. I'm right here." She heads over to the couch to sit next to him. "Helen was cryin' so I got up. I was hopin' she wouldn't wake you."
"I didn't even hear her. I'm sorry."
"It's alright. That's why there's two of us here." He looks at his daughter's face. "I think she's asleep."
"Well done, Dad," Freddie beams. As soon as Peter stands up, Helen stirs and begins crying again.
"Aww. What happened, little darlin'?" he asks his daughter. "Did Daddy get up too fast?" He carefully sits back down, and her crying stops. "I don't get it."
"You probably feel good to her. Hold on." Freddie gets up to retrieve a blanket and a pillow from their bedroom. "Here, lay down."
Peter carefully leans back all the way and rests his little girl on his chest. Freddie curls up next to him on their slightly oversized sofa.
"Comfortable?" she asks.
"You better believe it," he answers with a smile. Freddie rubs Helen's back and watches as she closes her little eyes once again.
"How about that," she says. "She just wanted to stay with her Daddy." Peter breaks into a smile right away.
"You really think so?"
"I'm positive. Many doctors talk about the bond between a mother and daughter, but they always forget the bond between the father and daughter." Freddie rests her head on his shoulder as he brings his arm around her. "Every girl loves her daddy." She looks him in the eyes while lightly brushing his face and sideburns. "And I love Helen's daddy, too."
He smiles as he crushes her a little closer. "I love Helen's mummy, too. More than words or pictures could ever describe."
"You don't have to worry," she says. "We have a child now. That's description enough." They both look lovingly down at their child as she placidly lies over Peter's heart. Her little hands are curled up into fists under her chin.
"Sleep in peace, my little angel," he says before he kisses her tiny, warm head.
"Guten Nacht, mein liebling. Traum was Schones. (Sweet dreams.)" Before she lays her head down again, she kisses Peter. "Goodnight, dearest."
"G'night."
That night, the Newkirk clan, now three members strong, slept together in undisturbed peace. Pleasent dreams and happy thoughts filled their heads as they rest. Peter dreams of all the joy and good times ahead with the family that he's already planning on expanding. Even in his sleep, he smiles with the knowledge that his wife is beside him, and that his daughter already loves him.
And knowing that his daughter already thinks the world of him makes Peter feel like a god.