The phone rang as soon as I turned off the computer.

DEBBIE: We’re on our way to the hospital, Aunt Pat. Y’all come on down. Henry wants you to see him bring David Anthony out to weigh him and put his little cap and diaper on.

ME: Wake up, Fred. Debbie and Henry are on their way to the hospital. We’ve got to go see David Anthony as soon as he’s born.

FRED: What time is it?

ME: Eight o’clock.

FRED: At night?

Maybe we weren’t over the jet lag as much as I had thought.

Henry Lamont is one of the special people in my life. If I had had to bet on one of my students becoming a famous writer, it would have been Henry. He still may get around to it some day. Or maybe he won’t, which is fine. He’s a wonderful, creative chef, a job that he loves and that all of us enjoy. I couldn’t have been more pleased when he became part of our family.

Mrs. Lamont, we were informed when we got to the hospital, was in one of the birthing rooms on the fourth floor. Just inquire at the desk up there.

“Birthing room?” Fred asked as we got on the elevator. “Is that the same as a delivery room?”

“Not quite,” I explained. “It’s like a very nice bedroom and the whole family can stay in there with the mother while she’s in labor and while the baby’s being born.”

“What?” The elevator door closed, but Fred didn’t punch the button.

I reached over and hit four. “Sure. We’re the cheerleaders.” I waved an imaginary pompom. “Push, Debbie, push!”

“Not funny, Patricia Anne.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I put both arms around his waist. “But don’t you wish you could have been with me when our children were born? That you had been the one to hand them to me while they were still attached to the umbilical cord?”

“Lord, no. Will Henry have to do that?”

“Henry wants to do that. He wants to bond immediately with David Anthony.”

“Well, that’s fine, I guess. He’d still better send Debbie some flowers, though.”

The door opened and we stepped out.

“I sent you roses every time.”

“There’s one pressed in each of their baby books.” I took his hand. “You want to have another one?”

“I think I’ll pass.” He grinned. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Hey, Aunt Pat. Uncle Fred.” Henry was walking down the hall. He held up a Styrofoam cup. “I just came out to get some coffee. Y’all come on back. Debbie’s in birthing room two.”

“How’s she doing?” I asked.

“Great. The doctor says he doesn’t think it’ll be long. Mary Alice is already here.”