“It was beautiful, Doris, and so were you. We had a good time too.”

“You all did such a good job,” she said warmly. She liked Paris too, and thought she made an excellent addition to the team.

Bix went to get his briefcase, and the clothes he had changed out of when he put on his tuxedo. He had been working there all afternoon. The Fleischmanns went into the house arm in arm, and Paris was walking to the car, when she heard Jane give a soft moan. She didn't know what it was at first, and when she turned to look at her, Jane suddenly bent over, and there was a rush of water that splashed onto the grass where she stood.

“Oh my God,” she said, looking at Paris with wide eyes, “I think my water just broke,” and within seconds, she was doubled over with a terrible pain.

“Sit down,” Paris said firmly to her, and helped her to sit down on the grass so she could catch her breath. “You're okay, it's going to be fine. Well, it looks like the baby did just what Bix said. He waited till after the party. Now let's get you home.” Jane nodded, but the contraction she was having was too strong for her to speak. And when it ended, she looked up at Paris miserably.

“I think I'm going to be sick.” Paris had had labors like that, fast and hard, vomiting everywhere, and too many things happening all at once. But in her experience, it had meant that the baby came quickly too. Jane was throwing up when Bix came back to look for them.

“Good lord, what happened to you? What did you eat? I hope it wasn't the caviar or the oysters, people were gobbling them up, saying how good they were.” But Jane just looked up at him, mortally embarrassed.

“I think she's in labor,” Paris said quietly to him. “Is there a hospital near here?”

“Now? Here?” Bixby looked horrified, and Jane interrupted immediately.

“I don't want to go to a hospital here. I want to go home. I'm okay. I feel better now.”

“Let's discuss it in the car,” Paris said sensibly, and helped Jane into the backseat so she could lie down. There was a towel in the trunk, and Paris set it next to her, and got into the front seat. Bix had driven them, and he took off his tuxedo jacket, put it in the trunk, and a moment later they took off. By then Jane had called Paul, and told him what was happening. She promised to call him back in five minutes. “I think you should call your doctor too. When did the contractions start?” Paris asked, as Jane dialed her obstetrician's number.

“I don't know. I've been feeling weird all afternoon. I thought it was something I ate.” She got through to her doctor's exchange then, and they patched her through to him. He told her to go straight to California Pacific Medical Center in the city. He thought driving back would be fine. And if anything changed dramatically, he told her to stop and go to a hospital along the way, or at the very worst, call 911. He was relieved to hear that she wasn't driving back alone, and she was lying down. She called Paul back then and told him where to meet her, and to bring her overnight bag. It had been sitting in the front hall for three weeks. And as soon as she finished talking to him, another contraction hit. It was another major one, and she couldn't talk for three or four minutes.

“If memory serves,” Paris said to Bix as she held Jane's hand. Jane was nearly breaking her fingers, and gripping Paris's hand in a vise as she squeezed her eyes shut and made a moaning sound that terrified Bix. “As I recall, once you can't talk during contractions, it's time to be in the hospital. I think she's further along than she thinks.”

“Oh my God,” Bix said, looking panicked. “I'm a homosexual, for chrissake. I'm not supposed to see these things, or even know about them. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Drive back to the city as fast as you can,” Paris said, laughing at him, and feeling better again, Jane was laughing weakly in the backseat too.

“Your godson wants to see you, Bix,” Jane teased, and he groaned louder than she had a moment before.

“Well, tell him I do not want to see him. Yet. I want to see him neatly wrapped in a blue blanket, in a hospital ward, and not until his hair has been combed. And that goes for you too,” he said, glancing at Jane in the rearview mirror, but he was genuinely concerned. The last thing he wanted was for something untoward to happen to her, or the baby, while he drove them into town. “Are you sure we shouldn't stop at a hospital along the way?” he asked both women, and Jane insisted she was fine. She had several more contractions, and Paris was timing them. They were still about seven minutes apart. They had time, but not much, she knew.

The two women talked softly between contractions, and Jane had a horrific one just as they cruised past the airport, going at full speed.

“Are you okay?” Bix asked, and Jane's voice was hoarse when she spoke again.

“Yeah. I think I might get sick again.” But this time she didn't, and she told Paris as they reached the outskirts of the city that she felt like she wanted to bear down.

“Don't!” Paris said firmly. “We're almost there. Just hang in.”

“Oh my God,” Bix said, “this isn't happening.” And then he turned to Paris with a nervous look. “Do you deliver babies too?”

“Is that part of the job description?” she asked, keeping an eye on Jane and her hand in hers.

“It may have to be. I hope not. And by the way…” he began as they flew through a red light on Franklin Street, and narrowly missed being hit by a car. He had never driven as fast, or as recklessly in his life. “You're hired, Paris. In case I haven't told you yet. You've done a great job this week. And you in the backseat,” he said jokingly to Jane, “you're fired. I don't want to see you in the office on Monday. Don't come back again!” They were on California Street by then, and Jane was making horrible sounds. Paris was trying to get her to pant like a dog so she wouldn't push.

“Can we stop?” Jane asked feebly. The motion of the car was making her feel sick.

“No!” Bix nearly screamed. The hospital was only a few blocks away. “I am not stopping, and you will not have that baby in this car! Do you hear me, Jane?”

“I will if I want,” she said, lying back with her eyes closed. She had broken out in a sweat and let go of Paris's hand to hold her belly. Paris knew that they would be lucky if they got there in time. The baby was definitely coming. And just as she thought it, Bix screeched to a halt outside the hospital, in the parking slots reserved for emergency vehicles. Without asking either of them, he jumped out of the car, and ran inside to find a doctor. “I think the baby's coming,” Jane said to Paris in staccato breaths, and all she wanted to do was scream.

“It's okay, sweetheart, we're here,” Paris said, as she jumped out of the car, and opened the back door to get to Jane, but just as she did, two attendants rushed out with a gurney, and Paul was with them. They got her onto the gurney as she cried, and she was sobbing as she reached for Paul with both hands. She had been very brave, but now she was frightened, and so relieved to see him.

“I was so worried about you,” he said, as he held her hand and they wheeled her inside at full speed, while Paris and Bix watched, and followed her inside. They didn't even try to get her upstairs, but took her straight into the emergency room, and Paris and Bix were still trying to catch their breath when they heard her scream. It was a long horrifying howl that was so primeval, so deep, and so profound that it went to one's very soul. Bix looked at Paris in terror, and clutched her hand.

“Oh my God, is she dying?” He had tears in his eyes. He had never heard anything like it. It sounded as though someone had sawed her in half.

“No,” Paris said quietly, as they held hands in the waiting room, “I think she just had a baby.”

“How awful. Was it like that for you?”

“With one of them. I had a C-section with the other.”

“You're a remarkable breed, all of you. I could never go through it.”

“It's worth it,” she said, as she wiped a tear from her eyes too. Thinking about it reminded her of Peter.

And a moment later one of the emergency room nurses came out to tell them that the baby was healthy and weighed ten pounds three ounces. Half an hour later they wheeled Jane past them, as Paul followed proudly, holding the baby. They were all going upstairs to a room.

“Are you okay?” Paris asked as she bent to kiss her. “I'm so proud of you. You were terrific.”

“It was pretty easy,” Jane said gamely. They had just given her something for the pain, and she was looking very woozy. And at ten pounds three ounces, Paris knew it couldn't have been easy.

“We'll come back and see you tomorrow,” Paris promised, as Bix leaned over and kissed her too.

“Thank you for not having it at the Fleischmanns' party,” he said solemnly, and all three of them laughed. He took a peek at the baby, and remarked to Paul that he looked enormous. “He looks like he should be smoking a cigar and carrying a briefcase. That's my godson,” he said proudly to one of the nurses. And a moment later, the little family they had become went upstairs to get to know each other.

“What a remarkable evening,” Bix said to Paris, as they stood outside in the starry night. It was three o'clock in the morning.

It had been an extraordinary week. She had gotten a job, made two new friends, and nearly delivered a baby.

“Thanks for the job,” she said as he drove her home. She felt as though they were old friends now.

“We'll have to put midwifery in the brochure after tonight,” he said solemnly. “I'm awfully glad we didn't have to deliver that baby.”

“So am I,” Paris said with a yawn, as she smiled at him. She knew the night had created a bond between them that might not have been there otherwise. Neither of them would ever forget it. Nor would Jane, she was sure.