He looked to the bathroom door when it opened and Emily emerged with a nurse. She walked slowly to the bed, and then the nurse helped her climb onto it. "Feeling a little better?" the nurse asked, adjusting the blankets.
Emily nodded. "Yeah. I'm not so sweaty and gross anymore. Thank you."
The nurse smiled. "You're welcome. If you need anything, just push the call button."
"Hey," Sly said, moving to Emily's side.
"Hey," she said back tiredly. She looked at her sleeping son and smiled a bit. The bassinette was positioned just to the side of her bed so mother could keep an eye on her son at all times, and provided easy access for care and feedings. She pulled a bit on her soft cotton pajamas, which had a pattern of small blue flowers.
"So how was the sponge bath?" Sly asked, taking a seat.
"Kind of weird, but I feel so much better now. The nurse also washed my hair," she said, pushing back a damp strand. "How is he?" she asked, nodding towards their son.
"Fine, as far as I can tell," Sly said a tad uncertainly. "I'm not really sure exactly what constitutes fine."
"Well, if he's eating, sleeping, and needs a diaper change every few hours, I think he's ok," Emily said, hoping she was right. There was still so much she didn't know yet, so much to learn. "Have you been calling everyone with the news?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, I called everyone, but I told most of them that you won't be up to visitors until tomorrow at least. But I expect your parents should be dropping by soon, with my aunt and uncle," Sly said with a slight smile.
"Mmm hmm," Emily murmured, closing her eyes as she lay back on the pillow. She knew she was going to be tired, but she never expected this near complete exhaustion, not mention the other various pains and discomforts of labor. Suddenly, her eyes flew open. "Sly, we're forgetting something!" she said, sitting up straighter.
"What?" Sly asked, concerned about Emily being so upset. "Lay back down, I don't want you hurting yourself," he added protectively.
Emily leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. "It's something important the baby needs."
"Tell me what it is, I'll go get it," Sly said earnestly. "I'll leave right now."
Emily shook her head. "No, it's not some material thing." She looked over to the bassinette. "Sly, he needs a name."
"Oh," Sly said softly. "Well, we said we were going to decide after the baby was born, so now is the time to do it."
Just then the baby let out a small cry. "Well, I guess he confirms it," Emily said. "Bring him to me."
Sly got up and walked over to the bassinette. He picked up the pink, slightly fussing baby and carried him with extreme gentleness, until he was safely deposited in his mother's arms.
"Hey," Emily said, very lightly stroking the baby's head, doing her best to calm the infant. In some ways, it felt very awkward to be holding the baby. She wasn't sure she was doing it right, or if he was comfortable at all. However, the baby soon relaxed in her arms, and she did, too.
"Here's the list," Sly said, retrieving a small piece of paper from the back pocket of his faded black jeans. It was folded into many small squares, and was frustratingly hard to unfold.
"It looks like origami," Emily chuckled lightly.
Sly grimaced as he attempted to open the paper without tearing it. "Yeah, well, I had to do something to keep myself busy during these long hours of labor, you know. It was hard to do one-handed." Finally, he managed to unfold the entire sheet. "Here we go," he said, laying it out on the bed for the both of them to see.
Emily read the first name. "Nathan. Does he look like a Nathan?" she asked her husband uncertainly.
Sly shook his head. "I don't think so." He read the next name. "Benjamin."
Emily frowned. "I don't like the nickname Benny."
"Ok, how about Zachary?" Sly said, pointing to the last boys' name on the list.
"No, no, no, these are all wrong," Emily said, staring hard at her infant son.
"We liked them before," Sly said futilely.
"But that's before he was born, before we knew him," Emily insisted. "Those names aren't right anymore." She sighed. "Isn't there anything else on the list?"
"There are a few other ones, but I'm sure he'd hate us forever if we named him Clarissa," Sly said wryly.
The baby let out a sharp cry seemingly in protest. Emily looked at her son, trying to determine his needs. "You don't need a diaper, you were just changed," she said, going over a mental checklist. "Are you hungry? Is that it?" The baby just continued to cry. "I guess we could give this food thing a shot," she said nervously. The nurse had given her a lesson in breast-feeding a few hours earlier, but she still wasn't sure she had really gotten the hang of it. "Um, Sly, could you take him while I get 'adjusted' here?" she asked with embarrassment.
"Ok," Sly said a bit hesitantly, but he reached for his son. While Emily went about the business of getting ready to feed the baby, Sly walked a bit, making sure to cradle him gently, providing plenty of support for his head.
"Ok, buddy, you need a name. You can't spend your life answering to 'Hey, you.'" Sly walked over to the small window and looked out as he rocked very gently, trying to quell the infant's tears. Sly wracked his brain as he tried to think of every name he could remember.
Just then, the baby's tiny hand emerged from the blanket and slightly banged Sly's chest, bumping against the medal Sly wore around his neck.
Sly looked down, surprised. "Assertive. I like that," he said with a bit of humor in his voice. He glanced for a moment at the medal of Saint Jude now swinging back and forth, catching the light. The juxtaposition of the images mingled in his mind, and he suddenly arrived at an idea. "What about Jude?" he asked, turning towards Emily.
Emily stopped fussing with her new nursing bra and looked up. "Jude?"
"Yeah, what if we named him Jude? It's unique, but it's classic," Sly said, hoping it met Emily's satisfaction.
"Jude," Emily said, contemplating the name for a moment. "I like it," she said finally.
Sly smiled with relief and looked down again at their son. "Jude. I think it fits."
Emily smiled and nodded. "Then it's settled. His name is Jude William Eckert."
Sly looked up again to his wife. "William? After my dad?" he asked, getting slightly choked up.
Emily nodded. "I always thought that should be his middle name. If we had a girl, I wanted her middle name to be Page."
Sly felt a tear trail down his cheek, but he made no move to wipe it away. "Well then, I agree. It's perfect," he said, walking with the baby back over to the bed. "Thank you," he whispered.
"No need to thank me," Emily said as she accepted the baby from Sly. "Hi there, Jude," she said, biting her lip in an attempt to not lose control of her emotions for the hundredth time that day. "It's nice to have a name, isn't it?" she cooed as she adjusted the child in her arms. "Even if it took us until the last minute," she laughed.
*-*-*-*-*-*
The next day
"He's easily the most intelligent infant I've ever seen," Edward said proudly as he held his new great-grandchild. "He'll be CEO of ELQ in record time, I predict."
Everyone in the room groaned at the comment. "Let's agree to spare him that incredible honor, ok?" AJ said, recalling his own experience of running the company. He was much happier now that he was out from under the family's influence, running his own enterprises.
"Thank you," Emily said to her brother. Her eyes scanned the crowded room. Edward was seated in a chair next to the bed, holding Jude so both he and Lila could see. Lila very gently brushed her fingers to his cheek, admiring the newest member of the family.
Ned and AJ stood together for what Emily thought was the first time in ages. Ned stood upright against the wall of the room, and AJ was only a short distance away, standing with his arms crossed over his dark brown sweater. During the course of the visit, they actually seemed to be making some small talk about children. Maybe they could actually be civil for a change, Emily thought.
Alan and Monica were arranging a spectacular bouquet of flowers they had brought that morning. They had gotten in their share of cooing and staring at the baby the night before. Emily reflected that they were taking everything pretty well, considering it was their 18-year-old daughter who just gave birth.
Jenny and Paul stood with Sly on the opposite side of Emily's bed. They too had been to visit the night before. Emily could sense a bit of tension between Sly and Jenny. She had been upset Sly hadn't let her come to the hospital sooner. It faded after she finally got to meet Jude, but Emily could feel it picking up again between them. Jenny would try to touch Sly, but he would always stay just out of reach; Jenny responded to Sly's comments just a little too quickly, a little too sharply.
Emily's eyebrows wrinkled in thought. She felt like her senses were heightened somehow. She was always listening for the baby, and noticing the details that seemed to escape her before. This mental sharpness was a welcome relief from the extreme fatigue and bodily discomfort she was feeling. It was hard to walk, hard to feed her son, hard to sleep. She settled back against the pillows and tried to fight off her drowsiness.
"I would say his most remarkable feature is his eyes," Lila said with her lilting English accent, making everything she said sound so much more dignified and classy. "I've never seen quite that shade of violet."
"Neither have I," Jenny said. "But with these two as parents, you had to know he'd turn out gorgeous," she smiled.
"Do you have everything set up at your apartment yet?" Ned asked, motioning with his head to Sly.
"Yeah, it's all done. We've got the bassinette, crib, changing table, everything. We're fully stocked in diapers," Sly said seriously.
"And you both promise that you will call us if you need any help?" Monica asked, attempting to reassure herself that everything would be fine. It was always a tough time for new parents when the baby first comes home, but even more so for teenaged parents like Emily and Sly. They had already had so many problems and setbacks. Would they be able to handle a brand new infant demanding their constant time and attention?
"Yes, Mom, we will," Emily nodded while she yawned. The baby also started fussing a bit, so Edward placed him back in the bassinette.
"We're tiring the both of them out. Jude and Emily need shut-eye this instant," Edward said authoritatively. "Come on, let's go."
As the assembled family members shuffled out of the room, taking one last look at the baby before they went, Sly waved and said his goodbyes.
"It was nice to see everyone," Emily sighed after they left. "But I'm glad they're gone." She adjusted uncomfortably on the bed. "I'm so tired."
"Then you should rest," Sly said softly. "I'll just sit here and watch the both of you sleep," he said, sitting down in the chair Edward had just vacated.
"Sly, it's getting late. I think maybe you should go home and try to sleep, too," Emily said as she observed her husband's wrinkled clothing and dark circles under his eyes.
"No, I don't want to leave you," Sly protested. "I'll just doze off right here."
Emily shook her head. "Sly, that's not enough. You look exhausted. I'm going to need you at full strength to help me out once I come home."
"And I know I will be," Sly countered. He sat up straighter, causing the chair to emit a high-pitched squeak as it moved across the linoleum.
Emily winced at the noise. "Sly, I still think you should go home. We'll be fine here, I promise. You don't have to be on guard 24/7."
"But what if you need something? What if the baby is hungry? I should be here to help," Sly said, emotion rising in his voice. Even he couldn't figure out why he was getting so worked up about this.
"That's what the nurses are here for, Sly!" Emily said with annoyance. "Now, I mean it. Go home!" she shouted.
Sly felt stung by her outburst and frowned. It seemed the high that had accompanied their son's birth had disappeared faster than either of them had realized.
Emily witnessed the hurt look on Sly's face and immediately regretted her hasty words. "I'm sorry," she said, quickly dissolving into tears. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I don't know what's wrong with me," she said, ashamed.
Sly softened immediately at Emily's apology. "It's ok, honey. I'm fine. Look, I'll go home right now," he said, rising from his chair.
"I'm sorry," Emily said again. "I'm not mad at you, really," she sighed, wiping away some of her tears.
"I know," Sly said quietly. "You were right. This has been a rough couple of days for all of us. We all need our rest. Right, Jude?" Sly said to his now sleeping son.
"Right Mom," Sly said in a small voice for his son.
Emily smiled in spite of herself at Sly's understanding and good humor. "Ok, if Jude says so."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Emily sighed heavily. "Who is it now?"
Sly walked to the door and opened it. An orderly stood behind a riotous bouquet of balloons. The latex balloons were of every color in the rainbow, and Mylar balloons were mixed in, bearing messages like 'Congratulations' and 'It's a boy!'
"Someone's going to have to guide me in here. I'm surrounded!" the orderly said playfully. He was a tall man, but even so, the balloons soared above his head.
"Roger, I'll guide you in for a safe landing," Sly said, affecting his best air-traffic controller voice. "Straight ahead through the doorway, then slightly left to the table."
The orderly slowly made his way to the table, where he finally dropped off the balloons, which were held down by weights shaped like stars. "Someone must like you guys very much," he smiled.
"I feel like I should offer you a tip," Sly said sheepishly. "It must have been hard to walk with that."
The orderly laughed heartily. "No tip necessary. But if you don't mind, I'd love to take a peek at the baby."
"Go ahead," Emily smiled.
The orderly walked softly over to the baby. "Oh, he's asleep. What's his name?"
"Jude," Sly said, joining the orderly to gaze at the infant.
"Hello there Jude," the orderly whispered. He turned to Emily and Sly. "I love when I get put on the maternity ward. I have three children of my own, but you never get tired of looking at brand new babies," he grinned. "I wish you all the best." He then made his exit.
"Thanks," Sly called after him. "He was nice," Sly commented.
"Yeah," Emily said. "But I wonder who sent the balloons?"
"Let me check the card," Sly said, tearing off a bright purple envelope from the bunch. "It's addressed to you. I don't think I should open it."
Emily looked at the envelope with interest after Sly handed it to her. She quickly opened it and began to read. Soon, she broke out in a huge grin.
"What's so interesting?" Sly asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It's from Lois," she said. She looked over the looping handwriting and reread everything again. "You know, when I was younger, I wanted to be just like Lois when I grew up. Maybe I still do."
"May I read the note?" Sly asked, eager to share in his wife's improved mood.
"Here you go," Emily said, handing the paper to Sly. She looked again to her sleeping son, and thought about what Lois had written.
Sly held the note out in front of him, and read silently to himself.
Hey girlfriend! I just heard the news about your baby. I'm sure he's beautiful. Congratulations to both you and Sly.
I hope you're feeling ok after everything. I bet it hurt more than you thought. I was the tough girl, and I thought childbirth would be a breeze. I underestimated the pain, or overestimated my bravado. Don't worry, though, because you'll recover. Just ask my ma; she had four kids and she's still standing!
Get ready for the toughest job of your life. It's never ending, and at times terrifying. It's perfectly normal if you're feeling overwhelmed.
However, as I've raised my sweet Brook Lyn, I've found that the good always outweighs the bad. It has been the highest honor of my life to be her mother. Just when I think I couldn't love her more, she proves me wrong. She brings me so much joy everyday. As she grows, so do I, in a million unexpected ways. I am sure that this will be your experience, too.
You're always in my thoughts and prayers. Don't forget I'm here if you need me. I wish you and your family all the happiness in the world, because you deserve it, kiddo.
Love, Lois
After he finished reading, Sly was smiling, too. "Lois seems like a great lady," he said, placing the note on the table beside Emily.
"She is," Emily murmured, already feeling the heavy curtain of sleep descending.
Sly leaned over and kissed Emily on the forehead. "Good night, Em," he said. He then turned to his son. "And goodnight, Jude. I promise I'll be back in the morning." His fingers lingered on his son's blanket for a moment, and then he turned to leave, lowering the lights as he went.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly returned to the apartment about an hour later. He brought in a sack from the local burger stand. He had become somewhat adept in the kitchen over the years, but tonight he lacked the energy to actually cook something. He set down his food on the table, eyes briefly glancing at the sliding glass doors.
He sat down at the table and unpacked his meal. It was a hamburger with extra pickles, onion rings, and a large cola. He unwrapped everything, and picked up the burger. He looked at it for a long minute before deciding he wasn't really hungry after all, so he wrapped it all up again and placed everything in the fridge.
The apartment was quiet without Emily around, and Sly found the silence surprisingly hard to take. He absently turned on the radio and started to shuffle about, trying to find things to do. Emily had left everything in spotless condition, however, so he gave up on trying to clean.
Sly walked to the nursery and looked in. He gently pressed on the touch lamp on top of the dresser. The room was partially illuminated in soft yellow light. He walked in and observed everything, the home of his brand new baby. Would he like it, would he be comfortable? There were so many questions.
He sat heavily in Lila's rocking chair and picked up a small stuffed bear. It was brown and made of a soft plush material. The bear seemed to be looking up at him with sad eyes, so Sly started a conversation.
"You'll get to see Jude soon, I promise," Sly said to the bear. "He's a great little boy. He's smart. I can tell that already." Sly nodded the bear's head. "He's destined for great things, no doubt," he said proudly. "Maybe in spite of his father."
Sly held the bear close to his chest, not feeling much like a father, but more like a scared kid facing an uncertain future. "Dad, I really need your help," he spoke out loud. "I have faith you're still watching over me, and I hope you'll watch over Jude, too. He's kind of your namesake, you know?" Sly's eyes misted over. "I'm trying my best Dad, and I hope that's what counts."
As soon as he said the words, Sly's memory recalled a moment he had shared with his father when he said almost those exact same words. It was after the judge had ruled against his father during the custody battle his parents waged over him. Sly was trying to comfort his father, who was heartbroken at the thought of giving him up to his mother.
(Author's Note: This is part of an actual GH scene from 1991)
"Well, Dad, you tried your best, and that's what counts," a young Sly had said, looking his father in the eyes.
Bill's face softened. He smiled at his son. "You know something? I hope I live long enough to see you as a father. 'Cause that little boy or that little girl that you raise- they're very lucky. You're going to be one hell of a dad."
Sly blinked rapidly in shock at the words that had been lost in his memory for nearly ten years. "Did he really say that, or am I just imagining this?" he whispered. He looked out the window to the sky for answers. "I remember the lighthouse was decorated when we came home, but no one felt much like celebrating. Everyone assumed Dad would win. I remember the balloons and the streamers." Those details provided the verification Sly was desperately looking for. "Yes, that was real. It was real."
His heart pounded with the pain and excitement of the memory of those words. "Well, Dad, maybe you knew somehow your life would be cut short," Sly began with sadness, "but I think you're able to see me anyway." Sly sighed as tears began to fall. "You don't usually say that kind of stuff to a eight-year-old kid. Maybe I didn't understand it then, but how did you know it was just what I needed to hear right now?"
Sly shook his head in near disbelief. "You believe in me, Dad. You really do." He looked off into the horizon and smiled. "Thanks."