And the doctor was pleased to be delivering her. It was another feather in his cap to be delivering Faye Price Thayer.

But Ward was horrified when he walked back into their room and found her doubled over a pool of water on the white marble bathroom floor, with a look of shock mingled with pain. “My water just broke.” Her voice was huskier than usual, her eyes wide open and afraid.

“Oh my God, I'll call an ambulance.” But at his words she laughed and sat down at the edge of the tub.

“Don't you dare. I'm fine.” But she didn't look all that fine to him and she looked scared, almost as scared as he was. “What did the doctor say?”

“To bring you in right away.”

“Well,” she looked into her husband's eyes, “I'll say one thing. I don't think it's a false alarm.” She looked a little more relaxed then, and he put his arms around her and helped her back to her dressing room. “What'll I wear?” She stared at the open closets and he groaned.

“Oh for chrissake, Faye … anything … just make it quick. How about a dressing gown?”

“Don't be ridiculous. What if there are photographers there?” Ward looked at her and smiled.

“Don't worry about it. Come on.” He pulled a dress out of the closet, helped her into it, and gently led her downstairs. He wanted to carry her but she insisted she could walk. And ten minutes later, she was comfortably tucked into the Duesenberg, the sable lap robe tucked around her legs, as she cautiously sat on a thick pad of towels, and ten minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the hospital, and Ward led her out. She was instantly put in a wheelchair and whisked away, and he was left to pace the hall for the next six hours. His demands to see the doctor when he arrived were all in vain, until finally at half past two he saw him striding down the hall, his surgical cap still on, swathed in a blue gown, the mask hanging loosely around his neck, and he met Ward with an outstretched hand.

“Congratulations, you have a fat, handsome son!” The doctor smiled and Ward looked shocked, as though he hadn't quite expected it, even after all these hours of going half mad, pacing the halls. It was easy to understand the father the doctor had mentioned who had burst into the delivery room now. He thought he wouldn't have been able to stand it for another half hour. “He weighs eight pounds nine ounces, and your wife is doing fine.”

“Can I see her?” Ward could feel his whole body go slack at the news. He was so relieved that it was over, Faye was well, the baby was fine.

“In a few hours. She's sleeping now. It's hard work, you know, pushing these little fellows into the world.” The doctor smiled again. He didn't tell him how hard on Faye it had been, or how close they had come to doing a Caesarean. And he hadn't wanted to give her gas until the head was out. They had waited until the very end, and then, put her out, once the baby was born. It made sewing up easier for him, and there was no reason for her to be awake now. Her work was over.

“Thank you, sir.” Ward pumped his hand, and almost ran out of the hospital. He had a present waiting at home for her, a huge diamond brooch with a bracelet and ring to match, all lying in a blue velvet box from Tiffany's. He wanted to get it and bring it back, but more importantly, he needed a drink. Desperately, in fact. He had the chauffeur drive him home as fast as he could, and he almost raced into the house. What an incredible day it had been. With a double scotch straight-up under his belt, he sat down and relaxed, took a deep breath, and realized finally that he had a son. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops he was so pleased, and he couldn't wait to see his wife. He tossed off his drink, and poured a second one, before rushing upstairs to look at the present he had waiting for her. He knew she would be pleased with it, but more than anything he was pleased with her … a baby boy! … A Son! … his firstborn. As Ward showered and shaved and dressed to go back and see Faye at the hospital, he thought of all the things he would do with him one day, the trips they'd go on, the mischief they'd get into. His father had never been willing to do anything with him, but everything was going to be different with him and his son. They'd play tennis, polo, go on deep-sea fishing trips in the South Pacific, travel together, have a grand time. He was beaming radiantly when he arrived back at the hospital at five o'clock, and asked the nurse to bring the champagne into Faye's room. But when he tiptoed in, he found her still dozing groggily. She opened her eyes and seemed not to know who he was at first, and then she smiled, the strawberry blond hair looking like a halo around her pale face. She looked almost ethereal as she stared sleepily at him.

“Hi … what did we have?” Her voice drifted off and her eyes closed again, as Ward kissed her cheek and whispered to her.

“You mean they haven't told you yet?” He looked shocked, and the nurse quietly left the room. Faye shook her head. “A boy! A little boy!” She smiled sleepily at him, and declined the champagne. She didn't seem able to sit up and she still looked kind of green to him, and he was desperately worried about her, even though the nurses insisted everything was fine. He sat for a long time with her hand in his. “Was it … very … difficult, sweetheart?” He stumbled on the words and something in her eyes told him that it was terrible but she bravely shook her head. “Have you seen him yet? Who does he look like?”

“I don't know … I haven't seen him … I hope he looks like you.” He let her go back to sleep after that. He had showed her the spectacular gift he'd bought for her, and she looked appropriately awed but she was definitely not herself and he suspected she was in a lot of pain but didn't want to admit it to him. He tiptoed down the hall by himself to look at his son, as the nurse held him behind the glass window in the nursery, and the baby didn't look like him but Faye, he was big and round and beautiful with a fluff of blond hair like Faye's. And as Ward watched he gave out what looked like a healthy wail, and Ward thought he had never been so proud in his life as he strutted out of the hospital and into the Duesenberg. He went to dinner at Ciro's alone, knowing he would run into all his friends, and he bragged to everyone, handed out cigars, and got extremely drunk on champagne, while in her hospital room, Faye slept, trying to forget how awful it had been.

She left the hospital in less than a week, and by the time she got home, she looked more like herself. She wanted to nurse the baby, but Ward had convinced her that it wasn't practical. She needed her sleep. They had hired a nurse, who took over while Faye regained her strength, but within two weeks, Faye was on her feet again, with the baby in her arms most of the time, and looking more beautiful than she ever had before, Ward said.

They named the baby Lionel, and christened him on Christmas Day at the church where they'd been married.

“He's the perfect Christmas gift.” Ward beamed down at his son as he held him in his arms on the way home, and Faye laughed. Lionel was almost two months old. “He's beautiful, sweetheart, and he looks so much like you.”

“He's pretty cute, whoever he looks like.” She gazed down at the sleeping infant happily. He had barely cried during the brief ceremony. And once at home, he woke up and didn't seem to object when he was passed from hand to hand. Everyone wanted to have a look at him. All the illustrious and celebrated of Hollywood were there, all the big movie stars, producers, directors, from Faye's old life, and Ward's more social friends. It was a dazzling list of names, and the Hollywood people all teased Faye about giving up her career for “all this” … “Are you just going to go on having babies forever, Faye?” She said she was, and Ward stood at her side and beamed. He was so proud of Faye and Lionel and the champagne flowed like the Seine all day. And that night Ward and Faye went dancing at the Biltmore Bowl. She had made a remarkable recovery. She already had her figure back, and felt well. And Ward thought she had never looked more beautiful. The photographers concurred.

“All set to do it again?” Ward teased. She wasn't quite sure she was. The memory of how painful it had been still lingered with her, but she was crazy about Lionel. It might not be so terrible to do it again, she thought now, though only weeks before she would have shrieked at the idea. “How about a second honeymoon in Mexico?” he proposed, and she loved the idea. They left shortly after New Year's Day, and had a fabulous time in Acapulco for three weeks. They ran into a number of their friends, but spent most of their time alone, they even rented a yacht and spent two days fishing blissfully. It was the perfect holiday, and would have been even more so if on the last week of their trip, Faye hadn't begun feeling ill. She blamed it on the fish, the heat, the sun, and couldn't imagine anything else. But when she got back, Ward insisted she go to the doctor to check it out, and when she did, she was stunned. She was pregnant again.

Ward was thrilled, and so was she. This was exactly what they had both wanted from the first, and everyone teased them mercilessly this time. “Can't you leave the poor girl alone, Thayer? … What's the matter with you two? Can't you leave her alone long enough to comb her hair?” But they were both happy about it, and this time they made love almost until the end, doctor's advice be damned. Ward said that if she was going to spend nine months out of every ten pregnant, then he wasn't giving her up, and he barely did this time. She went into labor five days late, and it was easier this time. She recognized the symptoms of labor more easily, and it began one hot September afternoon. They barely had time to make it to the hospital, the pains came so hard and fast, and Faye was clenching her teeth with tightened fists when they arrived at the hospital. The baby was born less than two hours after that, and when Ward saw her late that night, he wasn't as upset this time at how sleepy she was. This time he had bought her sapphire earrings with a matching thirty-carat ring. It was another boy, and they named him Gregory, and Faye bounced back just as quickly this time. But this time she vowed to be a little more careful, at least “for a while.”