“Yes?” Conner murmured in reply to Jennifer’s call.
“I want to tell you before I tell Abby because –” Jennifer started then stopped and Edith watched her bite her lips.
Edith was always telling her to stop doing that but did Jennifer listen?
No.
“What is it, Jenny?” Conner urged softly, his words held a kindly invitation which stated without him having to explain that she was safe to say whatever she pleased to him.
Their relationship had not started well. This was something, to Edith’s annoyance, which had never been fully explained to her. However Edith wasn’t born yesterday and she reckoned (astutely) it had to do with Jennifer not wanting to let go of her grief for her best friend’s first husband and Conner’s determination to be his replacement.
Over the years that had changed. Mainly because Jennifer adored Abigail and Conner made Abigail blissfully happy.
Not to mention, although Edith would never tell anyone this, Conner was a highly likable fellow.
“We’ve named him Benjamin,” Jennifer announced carefully and Edith guarded her astounded reaction to this news.
Benjamin, Edith thought, was a good enough name.
She preferred Mortimer but that was just her.
However it was also clear why Jennifer and Kieran had named their child thus. Both had been close with Abigail’s first husband.
This was meant to be a posthumous honour.
It would also be a constant reminder to Conner of Abigail’s past, blind devotion to her dead husband which, Edith thought irritably, wasn’t very considerate of Jennifer and Kieran.
Edith watched Conner who, gallantly Edith thought, didn’t show even the slightest reaction.
However he said with honesty and genuine warmth, as well as demonstrated it when his hand closed around Jennifer’s, “Abby will be pleased.”
“Um,” Jennifer went on cautiously then quickly, “actually, we’ve named him Benjamin Conner.”
Edith felt the air in the room go still.
She lifted her head and didn’t even pretend not to watch openly as Conner held his body rigid for a moment. Then he came partially out of his chair, bent to Jennifer’s forehead and kissed her there, never taking his hand from hers.
He sat back down and said in a rough, low voice that explicitly betrayed intense emotion, “Now I’m pleased.”
Jennifer, face still wan and tired, smiled at him.
Edith dropped her head to look at the baby again blinking rapidly to quell the tears that were pricking at the backs of her eyes.
With iron determination she succeeded in this effort.
The door opened and Abigail and Kieran walked in.
Kieran went directly to his wife.
Abigail smiled at her friend then her husband then she walked to Edith.
She lifted her hands and wriggled her fingers. “Come on, Mrs. Truman, give him up.”
Reluctantly, with an irate glare at Abigail to show irritation was exactly how she felt, Edith did as she was told.
Abigail walked slightly away, cuddled the baby close and cooed to him in a soft voice.
Conner approached his wife and slid his arms loosely about her body.
Kieran sat on Jennifer’s bed and held her hand with one of his as the other stroked her cheek.
Edith took a mental snapshot of Kieran and Jennifer, something she’d learned to do a long time ago in order to pull them out and savour them in her far-less-frequent-now lonely times.
Then she looked back at Conner and Abigail and saw his tall head bent to look at the baby, only one arm now around his wife, the other hand was curled tenderly and protectively at her neck.
Abigail’s eyes went from the baby to his and she grinned.
Conner grinned back.
Edith Truman took another mental snapshot and filed it happily away.
She gave them all a long moment.
Then she snapped loudly, “Conner Ewan Fraser! I need tea!”