TITLE: What's In A Name?
AUTHOR: Miesque
RATING: PG-13 (mild language)
SETTING: Season Seven (aka "Season of the Pod People") into Season
Eight.  Luka has long since broken up with Droopy McHangdog (a.k.a.,
Abby Lockhart) and is Alone Again (naturally...)
CATEGORY: Luka Kovac/cast.  Romantic/comedy/drama, vague spoof of
'Bridget Jones's Diary'...may be rather humorous, may be angsty, may
end with a nuclear bomb wiping out all of Chicago...who knows?
DISCLAIMER: Luka Kovac is the property of Warner Bros., Amblin
Entertainment and NBC.  I am borrowing him for entertainment purposes
only and if TPTB want to sue me for copyright infringement, they
aren't going to have much luck getting money out of me, because I am
as poor as Job's turkey. <G>  Dr. Alexandra Morgan is my invention.
ARCHIVE: If you must, but please inform author. :)

SPOILERS: For Season Seven and Wishful Thinking for Season Eight
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Starter Pistols and Sex Diaries; Fishin' for
the Runnin'; Heat Stroke; Grocery Store Cowboy; Cheesecake and Whine;
Times Of Your Life; I Want A Cave Man, I Want A Brave Man!; A Bigger
Mousetrap; Bless Me, Father; For I Am About to Sin; Out On A Ledge;
Have An Egg Instead; Charity; The Devil Cuts Loose; Toads and
Falsehoods; Ready to Go; Saying Goodbye; Crazy From the Heart; Danger;
Forty Black Balloons; Partied Out; Young Men Coming Aus; Price Check;
Going Once...; Check, Please; Eighteen Patients and a Dozen Roses;
Life Is Good; A Handful of Pebbles; The Horror...the Horror; Gumballs
and Gurneys; It's Not the Flu; Thud; Hvratska and Cymru Celebrate
Christmas; Snow Business; New Year's Dissolutions; Into Sisters;
Sometimes You're the Windshield; Kovac Pride; Nuptuality; The Trouble
With Harold; The Mummy-in-Law Returns
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ellen Hursh for editing and several 2AM
brain-storming sessions.



Althea Morgan was already up, making coffee and rummaging through the
refrigerator when Luka emerged from the bedroom, dressed for work.
She turned around and looked at him, a smile spreading across her
face.

"Hello.  What would you like for breakfast?"

"Uh...you really don't need to do that.  You're the guest, after all."

"Oh, posh!  I love cooking.  I take it Alexandra is still asleep?" she
asked, pouring Luka a cup of black coffee.  He took the cup and had a
sip.  It was as strong as any he'd ever had back in Croatia.  He
looked up at her, admiration and growing adoration in his eyes.  He
wondered if perhaps he could work out some kind of deal with her.  She
could make his coffee every morning and he'd be her slave for life.
That seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Yes.  She's pretty tired."

"I would think so.  Twins!  I can't tell you how delighted everyone is
about that.  Twins run in our family a great deal, I'm afraid.  My
daughter-in-law is having twins for the second time, in fact."

"Yes.  They run in my family, too."

"Alexandra told me about...about your family.  About everything that
happened to you in Croatia."  She smiled kindly and touched Luka's
shoulder, and he nodded briefly.  "But I know saying 'I'm sorry'
certainly won't be of any use to *you*.  It's usually for the benefit
of the person saying it, isn't it?  But I am so dreadfully sorry..."

"Yes.  Thank you."

"Alexandra simply adores you, Luka.  I've never seen her so happy." 

Luka sat down at the table and let the cup of coffee warm his fingers,
breathing in the strong scent and smiling to himself.  Oh, he had seen
her pretty happy a few times.  Last night in particular.  He had had
to put his hand over her mouth to keep her from vocally expressing her
happiness.

"I suppose you're a tad uncomfortable, hmm?  I mean, I'll admit, these
circumstances aren't the *best*, or the sort I'd choose, but then
again you seem like a very good man and Alexandra has grown up a great
deal in the past few years.  She's had a few terrible relationships.
I assume she's told you about her past...umm...lovers?"

"Yes.  She has."

"She's been hurt a few times.  Last time, she showed up at our front
door, sobbing and utterly heartbroken...there's nothing worse than
seeing your baby hurting, is there?"

Luka swallowed and looked away.  He wished that particular nerve
hadn't been hit today.  His own babies had been hurt, and he'd been
powerless to do a thing about it.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "That was quite inappropriate of me.  I was
always mal appropo, even from a child."

Luka shook his head.  "It's all right.  Are you...uh...settled in
okay?  I had a hard time getting the guest bedroom fixed up.  It was
mainly a library cum 'room for stuff I didn't need but couldn't throw
out'."

"Oh, I'm fine," she smiled brightly.  She glanced up to see her
daughter, bundled up in her bathrobe, waddling toward them.  The image
was almost too much for Althea to take-the sight of her beautiful
youngest child, pregnant!  "Good morning, Alexandra!  Please, sit down
and let me fix breakfast."

"Mum..."

Luka kissed Alexandra on the cheek, and she blushed.  Althea observed
them together, measuring what she was seeing very carefully.  It was
heartening to see the real affection and powerful chemistry they had
together-the little glances and touches they shared.  It seemed like
they were always touching.  Luka was a loving, protective man who
would take good care of Alexandra and their children.  Not only that,
he was a mature, responsible adult.  Just the sort of man her daughter
needed.  And Alexandra...she looked positively *besotted* with Luka.
There really isn't anything more beautiful than a woman in love.  It
made Althea want to dance around the room, seeing her baby so happy.

"Just sit down, dear.  What would you like?"

"Sausages and scrambled eggs," Alexandra said wearily.  She rubbed her
belly, and Althea observed her, spatula in hand, waiting.  "Yes?"

"The babies are kicking?"

"Like mad!"

Althea didn't move, but Alexandra held her hands up and Althea pressed
her hands to her belly, waiting.  When she felt the bumps of the
babies kicking, she smiled.  "Oh...it's just so lovely.  So
wonderful...my baby is having babies!  I can hardly believe it.  Just
a few minutes ago you were in nappies and playing in the wading pool
in the back yard."

"Really?" Luka said, grabbing a piece of toast and slapping some grape
jelly on it.  "I would have liked to have seen that.  Was she
topless?"

"Yes.  But she was only five."

"Oh.  Damn.  Well, summer is only a few months away, and since we're
having twins and we've got that damned dog and turtles, it'd be a good
idea to get a *house*.  This flat is *shrinking*, after all.  We'll
get a nice house with a fenced in back yard and you can play in the
wading pool again...topless."  He winked at Alexandra, who rolled her
eyes and sighed.

"Oh, I didn't know your fiance was a bit of a scoundrel, Alexandra!"
Althea laughed.

"How d'you think I ended up pregnant?" she said.  She made a surprised
noise when Luka bent down and gave her a deep kiss, and seemed
disappointed when he pulled away and grabbed his coat.

"I'd better get going or I'll be late.  Good-bye, ladies.  Alexandra,
be a good girl.  And thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Morgan."

"Althea!"

"Yeah...uh...Althea."  He pulled the coat on, deftly sidestepped
Jakko's attempts at a game of 'foot chicken' and was out the door,
leaving behind the scent of strong coffee and his pleasant-smelling
aftershave.

"A house would be a very good idea, dear.  Perhaps you should start
looking at real estate advertisements in the paper?"

Alexandra sipped her milk in silence, mulling over the idea, then
looked up at Althea.  "Mum, d'you think I'll be a good wife?"

"Of course."

"I mean...I'm so bloody forgetful and I've got such a dreadful temper.
 I can be a horrible bitch sometimes to Luka.  Fortunately he's been
married before and knows what pregnant women can be like, but...ah..."

"Oh, sweetheart, stop worrying!  You'll be a fine wife and a very good
mother."

"I can't even bloody cook."

"You'll learn.  I did."

"You *learned*?" 

"What, did you think I was born knowing how to cook?"

"That's what I always thought!" Alexandra said, sitting up straight
and staring at her mother, bewildered.  "You were always a great
cook!"

"Oh!"  Althea burst into laughter.  "Alexandra, when I first married
your father I must have put him in the hospital at least four times.
I was a bloody disaster in the kitchen."

Alexandra looked totally stunned.  "Wh-what?"

"You heard me.  I was a terrible cook.  Your father taught me how,
really.  And he was from *Wales*, after all, so it wasn't like I was
learning from a gourmet or anything.  I went back home to Tennessee
for one summer and my mother and aunts gave me a crash course in how
not to burn things, and between them and Thomas I finally became
pretty good.  But you were a toddler before I finally mastered all the
favorite dishes of the family."

"God!"  Alexandra gasped.

"Besides which, when we first married and I got pregnant with Alice, I
was a horrible mess."

"M-mess?"

"Oh, yes.  Definitely.  There I was, an American living in Ilfracombe,
Devonshire, surrounded by strangers, no family or friends anywhere
around.  Even worse, I was pregnant...fat and waddling and weepy, with
your father working late hours and very close friends with an
impossibly beautiful woman who looked exactly like Susan Anton.  It
was horrible."

"You mean Dad had an affair?!"  Alexandra practically shouted.

"Oh, heavens, no.  You know your father isn't that sort of man.  But I
was afraid he was having an affair."

"Mum, it's hard enough imagining you as pregnant, but as *insecure*
and..."

"What, did you think I carried Alice around in a handbag for nine
months, dear?  I've been through this three times.  I know what it's
like.  It's perfectly all right to cry and be emotional and throw
things.  It's how God intended it.  We suffer and make our men suffer.
 Though sometimes I wonder how the species continues to survive,
because I honestly thought I'd never go through it again after Alice
was born.  If I thought being pregnant was terrible, being in labor
was a hundred times *worse*.  I won't mince words, dear.  It's
dreadful.  Agonizing pain, screaming, knocking trays over, threatening
the lives of loved ones..."

"It's that bad?"

"You can't even imagine."

"And you...you screamed?"

"I think shepherds on wind-swept mountains in Switzerland heard me,
darling."

"You mean...you mean I'll have to go through that...t-twice?!"
Alexandra yelped.  "Mum, you have no idea...Luka...there's a woman he
works with that's in love with him and she's very pretty and smart
and...and...*thin*..."

"Alexandra Marie!  Such silliness!  Luka loves you.  So stop this
nonsense.  It won't help a bit.  You must learn how to cope with
things like that.  You know, dear, it's so funny how you've always
been under the delusion that I was perfect.  I am anything but
perfect.  I'm far from it.  You father learned how to accept me, and
it seems obvious that Luka has accepted your imperfections."

"Well I can't help but be silly! I'm pregnant and fat and my fiance is
bloody gorgeous and has every sighted female in Chicago panting after
him, besides that woman...even worse, Mum, I like the woman.  Isn't
that awful?  She and I could be very good friends except that
she...she..."

"She loves him."

"Yes!"

"Well, dear, you'll just have to find some way to share him."

"Mum!"

"Not *that* way, silly.  But it's not that hard, really.  Just make
sure she understands the boundaries.  I learned how to cope with
Daphne Wilson and you'll learn how to cope with...what is her name?"

"Kerry.  Dr. Kerry Weaver."

"The chief of the emergency department is in love with Luka?"

"Yes."

"Does he know?"

"Yes."

"Well...at least it's out in the open.  Darling...my poor child.  So
much to cope with!  But you must put things in perspective.  Put
yourself in her shoes.  You said she's fortyish...oh, wait, I thought
you said she was a lesbian."

"She's not."

"I suppose not, if she's in love with Luka."

"Right."

"Well...what have you said to her so far?"

"I...nothing."

"Did you invite her to the wedding?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Make sure she comes.  Then *talk* to her.  Befriend her.  You
said she was lonely and isolated.  Make her not so lonely and
isolated, make her feel included and cared for.  You are one of the
most compassionate people I know, dear, and your kind of care won't
make her feel like a pathetic charity case.  And if she's in love with
Luka, she can't be a bad person, as she obviously has excellent
taste."

"But what if he gets tired of me, Mum?  What if he decides I'm not
worth it and leaves me?  I'll die...I'll just die..."  Alexandra wiped
her eyes, shaking her head.  "I'm so bloody tired.  Just thinking
about it..."

"You and Luka made love last night, didn't you?"

"Mum!"

"First of all, it's very good for your skin.  Besides being good for
the babies.  Thirdly, it's evidence that he loves you even if you are
'fat' and 'weepy' and 'silly'.  Some men are programmed for monogamy
and faithfulness.  Obviously he is a product of his upbringing.  In
fact, I think it would be impossible for him to be unfaithful to you.
The guilt would reduce him to skin and bones in a matter of weeks."

"Mummy...Mum, I'm so scared.  I've never been so in love with anyone
before and I'm so afraid sometimes of losing him..."

"Shh..."  Althea put her arms around Alexandra and hugged her,
cradling her.  "My poor baby.  So far away from family, so worried
about everything, just like always.  So don't worry.  Mummy's here,
for a while..."  She lifted Alexandra's head, holding her by her chin
and looking into her eyes.  "But I won't be staying here, darling.
It's *your* life, your marriage, your babies.  I'll be leaving after
the wedding and it'll be just you and Luka and the babies.  And you'll
be just fine."

With that, Alexandra burst into a flood of tears and left a big wet
spot on Althea's blouse.  But Althea didn't mind.  There was nothing
she wanted to do more than to sit and comfort her baby.



Luka tried to speak to Kerry at the front desk, as he was signing in,
but she would have none of it.  She scribbled on the board, grabbed a
chart and dashed away, not even glancing at him, and left Luka
standing there feeling a bit stupid.  Frank the DeskNazi eyed him and
then cleared his throat, practically barking at Luka.  "I thought you
were engaged to that English gal."

Deciding that question didn't deserve the dignity of a response, Luka
threw the pen down and had a brief but satisfying fantasy about
Frank's head coming into contact with a convenient patch of concrete,
then headed into the lounge to get his labcoat.

Jing-Mei was sitting at the table, poring over a medical textbook.
"Don't interrupt me!" she snapped.  "I'm memorizing!"

"Good luck," Luka muttered.

"I'm amazed that you could be so callous."

"I would be concerned if it was about me," Luka said snidely.
"Jing-Mei...has Kerry seemed a bit...uh...odd to you lately?"

"She has seemed especially short-tempered."

He didn't dare look back at Jing-Mei, but he knew she was watching
him.  "Luka?  What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying.  I know that because you won't look at me.  You never
can look at anyone if you're lying to them.  What's going on?"

"Jing-Mei, it's a personal matter."

"Oh."

"I just don't know what to do, okay?  I don't even know how to
approach her."

"Oh.  What happened?"

Luka was not willing to disclose yesterday's events to Jing-Mei.  He
knew she wasn't a gossip, but it would be a betrayal of Kerry to talk
about it.  He ran a hand through his hair.  "Alexandra's mother is in
town."

"And that has Kerry upset?"

"No, Jing-Mei, I've changed the subject.  Get with the program."

"Oh.  Yes.  Of course.  What's she like?"

"Very nice woman.  Like mother, like daughter."

"Aww...how sweet of you to say that.  Most guys call their
mothers-in-law 'Battle Axe' or 'Dragonlips' or something like that.
You two got along okay?"

"Yes.  I think so.   Unless she's just pretending."

"I doubt that.  Even I like you, and I know you pretty well!"

"You're hilarious, Jing-Mei," he said dryly.  Just then, the door
opened and Kerry crutched in, growling.

"It's ten o'clock, Dr. Kovac.  Don't you think you should be working,
rather than standing around chatting?  And Dr. Chen, your break is
over!"

Luka nodded to Jing-Mei, who clapped her book shut and stood up,
looping her stethoscope around her neck.  She scuttled out of the
room, and he waited for a moment, to see what Kerry would do next.
She only stared at him for a moment, then braced herself and looked
away.

"Good morning to you, too, Kerry," he nodded.

"I'm going to another conference in Atlantic City," she said tersely.
"I hope you and Alexandra have a very nice wedding."

"Kerry, I want you to be there."

"I'm not coming to the wedding," she snapped.

"I will personally drag you there, if necessary.  I have never known
Kerry Weaver to be a coward and I'll never forgive you if you don't
come."

She made a strange kind of gulping sound and looked up at him, totally
unprepared for that statement.  He was a little taken aback by it,
too, but it was too late to take it back.  "Alexandra and I want you
to be there."

"You think I'd be a coward if I didn't come?" she whispered.

"Yes I do, Kerry."

"I kissed you."

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because it was an incredibly stupid and selfish thing to do!" she
shouted.

He couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her.  What could he
say?

"I feel so stupid," she said, putting her fingers to her forehead and
rubbing.  "I was such a fool, to think you'd...and to force myself on
you like that.  That was done to me not long ago, and I was
manipulated by someone I thought cared about me, and now here I am
doing the same damned thing!"

"Kerry, you are not manipulative."

"It seems like everyone's in love with you," she said.  "Alexandra,
Abby, that woman at the auction..."

"Abby never loved me," Luka corrected her.  "And I sure as hell never
loved her."

"You know what I mean.  It seems like you're a magnet for love.
People can't resist you.  And I've been feeling so sorry for myself,
ever since you got engaged.  Ever since you told everyone you were
getting married I've been...a total mess.  I need to just get over
it."

"Kerry, please...don't do this to yourself, okay?  I hate seeing you
like this.  It's... painful.  I don't know many people that I like
more than you, and the idea of you going through this because of
me..."

"It's not your fault.  You never did anything to encourage it.  It's
not like..."

The door opened and Frank stuck his head in.  "Hey, Dr. Weaver, we got
a trauma comin' in.  Multiple car crash, at least four criticals on
the way, ETA five minutes."

Kerry sighed and looked up at Luka.  "Okay.  I'll come to the wedding.
 Just...please...can we just forget this ever happened and move on?"

"Kerry...we need to talk about it some time."

"I would rather not talk about it, Luka.  It happened, it's over, and
I'll be okay.  You'll be happy, I know that.  And I'll be happy for
you.  Maybe seeing you marry Alexandra will be what the doctor
ordered, so to speak.  It'll make it real for me.  The book will be
closed forever."

"Kerry..."

But she wasn't hearing him.  Instead, she turned and crutched out as
quickly as possible.  Luka, frustrated, banged his fist against the
door, ignoring the momentary rush of pain.  "Damn it!"

Frank stuck his head back in.  "You comin', Dr. Kovac?"

"Yeah.  In a minute."  He wished he had something to throw.  All he
had in sight was Jing-Mei's medical journal, which he picked up and
banged back down on the table with a satisfying <whack>.



"Dr. Kovac!" 

Dave Malucci came pacing up the hallway, looking agitated, and Luka
eyed him for a moment before turning to face him.  "Yes?"

"I got a guy in exam two...uh...well, he looks kinda familiar."

Old boyfriend? Luka thought.  "Really?"

"Yeah.  You've seen him in history books, old newsreels, propaganda
films..."

"I'm sorry?" Luka asked, confused.  "Who are we talking about?"

"Hitler!"

"Hitler?"

"Yes!  Adolf 'Sieg Heil!' Hitler!  It totally freaked me out, you
know?  I walked into the exam room and looked up and there he was,
sittin' there in a normal-looking suit, readin' a magazine.  I says,
"Heil!" and drop the chart, and he just kinda looks at me and says, "I
got a stomach ache" and I'm still tryin' to get my heart to beatin'
normally."

"Well, I'm fairly certain it's not the *real* Hitler, Dave.  If it is,
just call the Mossad and let them deal with it."

"Dr. Kovac!  I...I'm really not..."

"Dave, you are a professional emergency physician and you should be
able to deal with anything.
Now hop to it."

"Please!" Dave gasped.  "I really don't want to deal with Hitler
today.  It's bad enough bein' chased around by Dr. Romano and havin'
my last name mispronounced..."

Oh, yeah, like I've never experienced that, Luka thought, then turned
back to the young resident.  "Dave, Dave...calm down.  Like I said, if
it really is Hitler, he'd be over a hundred years old...what are you
gonna do?  Put a frog in his colostomy bag?  Put a card in the spokes
of his wheelchair so the Mossad can find him more easily?  Come on.
You know full well it's not really Hitler, so just calm down and try
not to talk about the War."  It took a lot of effort for Luka to keep
from snickering.

"Damn it, Dr. Kovac!"

"Dave.  I'm warning you.  This is your patient.  If you have any
problems-say, him expressing a desire to invade Czechoslovakia-then
come and get me or any other attending.  Otherwise, treat his stomach
ailment.  You can do it!  It'll be fun!  How many doctors do you know
who get to treat the former leader of the Third Reich?  It'll be a
sign of just how capable you are of removing your emotions from your
work!"  That only caused Dave to glare at him, and Luka rolled his
eyes.  "Come on...seize the day, Dave!  It's a golden opportunity!"

"Oh, shut up!" Dave snapped.  "You don't have to be patronizing!"

Luka snickered and headed on down the hall toward the front desk.  Of
all the residents, he actually enjoyed working with Dave the most.  He
didn't have a lot of respect for the kid's general 'gung-ho' attitude,
but Malucci showed promise.  If he'd just learn to control his
adrenalin a little better...and his mouth.

"Tata, tata!"

He whirled around, expecting to see Jasna.  Every time he heard a
child call out like that, he expected to look up and see one of his
children running toward him.  His breath caught in his throat when he
saw a young girl about ten racing toward chairs, arms outstretched,
into the embrace of a tall, lean man.  The man picked the girl up and
hugged her tightly, laughing and talking with her.  Apparently, she'd
been in the ER because of a slight injury, because she had a Band-Aid
on her knee.

Bracing himself against the wall, Luka struggled to catch his breath.
No, not now.  Not him.  Not *here*.  He could only hope the man hadn't
seen him.  He didn't need to go through that right now.  Call it
cowardice, but he just couldn't deal with it.  If the man really was
who Luka thought, then he'd still have to face him some day.



11:45AM  Mum and I getting ready to go shopping.  Cannot believe what
she told me this AM.  She couldn't cook when she got married?
According to Mum, Dad had to have his stomach pumped several times-and
he's from Wales, for God's sake, so he should be used to bad food
anyway.  Also, she had terrible time upon moving to Ilfracombe and
felt lonely and isolated and when pregnant felt like beached whale
with glandular problem.  Perhaps my situation not so bad after all.

12:35PM  Mum in ladies' room.  Lunch quite fun, discussing baby names
and baby/bridal shower arrangements.  Mum has many suggestions and
brought out thick book of names ('The Greatest Baby Name Book Ever')
and we flipped through it, giggling over silly names like Prunella and
Basil.  Mum v. adamant that family names be used for babies.  "It's
tradition, dear.  It keeps you and your children connected to family.
Think about it, at least.  Morgan goes well for either a girl or a
boy."

Shall talk with Luka tonight about names.  We haven't really discussed
it much lately.  I'm strongly leaning toward Andrew and Daniel for
boys and Natalie and Althea for girls.  Luka usually says he has no
particular opinion, but I know he's lying.  He perked up a bit when I
suggested Andrew.  I think it would be lovely to name a son for Luka's
father.  And as for Daniel...is it tacky to name *our* baby for Luka's
dead wife?  I really don't think so, but I'll ask him what he thinks.
Luka has more common sense than me, at least.

3:45PM  Home from shopping, exhausted, feet killing me.  Mum insisted
on cleaning flat while I lie down.  Not sleeping.  Looking instead at
dozens of little baby outfits.  Mum certain I'm having boys (or at
least one boy) so lots of blue and yellow stuff, v. few pink things.
Mum has already enlisted ladies at church to make two quilts for the
babies, with pink, yellow and blue color patterns just to be safe, and
it shall be ready by end of July.

3:51PM  Ugh. Hope summer isn't terribly hot.  Never was good with
heat, and shall be even worse while pregnant.  Have appt. today with
Dr. Coburn and hope Luka will be able to get away for it.  Wonder if
technician will be able to determine sexes today?

4:25PM  Face so bloody dry.  'Mask of pregnancy'.  Itchy all over and
getting bloody stretch marks.  Trying to get ready for dinner.  Mum
cooking.

5:15PM  Returned from appt. w/ Coburn and nothing much to say.  Sexes
not determined yet, but babies are healthy and growing at normal rate,
etc.  Luka in cheery mood and making pot of potent coffee.  Mum
bustling about in kitchen, getting dinner ready.  All is v. peaceful.
Too quiet.  Indians will be attacking soon, I'm sure.

5:27PM  Luka comes in, looking v. tired.  He sat on the bed and told
me that Adolf Hitler was in the ER today.  "It took me a while to get
out of the piano wire he used to tie us all up, and Malucci is still
having palpitations.  Strange that he's not afraid to ride a bike
without a helmet, but a man who looks like Hitler freaks him out...oh,
and clowns.  He's scared of clowns."  He takes his shoes and socks off
and stretches out on the bed, yawning.

"I was wondering," I said quickly, peering at myself in the bathroom
mirror.  "If you'd had any more thoughts on what to name the babies."

"Kovac?" he answers, sounding distracted.

"Luka!"

"All right, all right...uh...I don't know."

I toddle back into the bedroom and hand him the baby name book.  "Flip
through and see what you like.  I wrote down my choices in the front."

He scanned my list and then looked up at me.  "I see 'Daniel' is your
first choice."

"Yes."  V. nervous.

"You really don't have to do that, beba.  It's not..."

"I would love to name one of them after your wife, Luka.  As a sort
of... of... tribute.  To make sure she's never forgotten."  Not that I
think Luka will ever forget her.  But I have a strong urge to do it,
because it seems like the right and good thing to do.  Danijela is
dead, but something of her spirit seems to be...near me.  I think
perhaps we would have liked each other.

He looked up at me with those beautiful grey-green eyes of his and I
could see he's v. touched by my sentiment-his hands were shaking as he
holds the baby name book.  I sat down beside him and put my arms
around him.  "I love you.  And I'm gonna love our babies...I hope I'll
be a good Mom."

"You will be.  You're already a very good woman."

"Really?"

"Yes.  Really.  If we have a boy, we'll name him Daniel.  As for the
other one..."

"Andrew!" I insisted.  "It's perfect.  Daniel and Andrew."

"And...and for girls?" he says, still looking startled.

"We could name them for our mothers.  Althea and Natalie Kovac."

"Oh, come on..."

I giggled.  "I don't know.  I have a feeling it's boys."

"Well, there's at least one boy in there," he said, putting his ear to
my bulging belly.

"Yes.  Some days I have a powerful craving to wear a baseball cap
backwards on my head, to scratch my privates and hoot at
large-breasted women."

He just snickered and kissed me.  "And you say I'm a goofball!  Hey,
if we have girls, we could name them Savannah and Abb-...ouch!"  He
rubbed his shoulder where I'd punched him.  "Just kidding.  The idea
of naming them for their grandmothers sounds good."

"Yes, that would be nice," I giggled and wriggled into his lap.
"Althea Kovac.  It does have a nice ring to it.  Mmmm...hate to put a
stop to this groping session, but dinner is almost ready."

"Damn," he grinned.  "Shall I carry you in...impress your Mum and
all?"

"That would be lovely."

He picked me up, staggering a bit.  "Oh *God* you're heavy!" he
gasped.  He got whacked for that, too.  He pretended he could barely
handle carrying me into the living room, and had Mum giggling when she
saw his dramatic performance.  In fact, we were all laughing, which
caused the babies to get hiccups.  V. strange to feel them "bumping"
like that.

Nineteen weeks pregnant.  Almost halfway there.  Been reading so many
books on babies and pregnancy and so forth that I could give bloody
lectures.  And next week Luka and I start Lamaze classes!  Do hope I
pass Breathing and quickly advance to Screaming at Spouse, Throwing
Things and Kicking Unsuspecting Doctors in Gonads.

11:02PM  Mmmmm...almost bedtime, stomach full.  Luka calling me from
bedroom, wanting me to check out website he found on how to raise tea
roses.  Tea roses?  Luka wants to buy a house with a big back yard so
he can keep a vegetable garden and I can try my hand at flower
raising.  "Are you serious?  I kill plants.  Which I suppose could be
useful, if we have dandelions.  Just put me in charge of them."  He
just rolls his eyes and begins to explain to me that raising a plant
is v. easy if you just follow directions.  Easy for him to say.  He
grew up on a farm, knows about stuff like that.  Even a cactus would
die on me.

11:35PM  Luka likes "Are You Being Served?", but I miss "'Allo!
'Allo!" and the running joke about 'The Fallen Madonna With the Big
Boobies' and often wonder what happened to Gorden Kaye.  Jokes about
Mrs. Slocum's pussy punctuated by Luka sipping strong Croatian wine
that I can't spell name of.  About to retire to bed.  V. tired.  Luka
complaining about spam and muttering about the phone bill.  Shall try
to be more careful about when I call home.

To be continued...