Silence No More

04. Storm and Cacophony

"Waaaaaah! Waaaah! Waaaah!"

That sound...

"Waaah! Waah!"

Was that really...? Could it really be...?

"Nurse!" I heard Mr Ambrose bark a command. Over the buzzing in my ears, he sounded very far away. "Get over here!"

"Y-yes, Sir!"

"Waaah! Waaah!"

Yes! Yes, it could be! It was! I'd done it!

"I-is she all right?" I demanded. "Is she—"

"Here!" A beaming Nurse Selby deposited a squalling bundle in my arms. "He's beautiful, Ma'am."

He?

Blinking, I stared down at the adorable reddish radish of a face that peeked out between the folds of white linen. Finally, I pulled aside the blanket, and...she was right.

My baby wasn't an adorable little girl. He was a little macho tyrant in the making! A chief chauvinist-to-be, and...and...

And I couldn't care less. He was mine. He was a marvel. He was perfect.

As I stared at the ugly little face that was the most beautiful thing in the world, I felt a smile split my face apart. He was beautiful. So very beautiful. And what was even better...

"Waaah! Waaah!"

...he was healthy! He was bursting with energy! His vigorous balling was enough to tell me as much. Such a sweet, eardrum-torturing voice he had. I wonder what Mr Rikkard-Silence-Is-Golden-Ambrose was going to think of—

Thud!

A dull thumping sound tore me from my reverie, and I suddenly remembered. Mr Ambrose! He'd been there with me throughout it all! Unlike any other man would have, he'd toughed it out, more than that, he'd practically single-handedly delivered our baby! True, the entire time, he'd been an ice-cold, chauvinistic son of a bachelor...but he'd been there. He'd held my hand. He'd helped me through the hardest times. He'd been stronger than I ever thought a man could be.

He deserved to share this moment with me.

"Mr Ambrose...Rikkard, I..." I looked up, a tender, almost shy smile on my face—only to stop in mid-sentence, when I was faced with an empty room, sans a certain industrial magnate. "Um...Mr Ambrose?"

No answer.

"Mr Ambrose? Dicky Darling? Hello?"

Silence once more. Even Ambrose Junior was keeping quiet for some reason. Confused, I glanced over at the nurse, who gave me a nervous smile and pointed down. Straining to look over the side of the bed, I glanced down—and saw Mr Rikkard Ambrose, face ashen, eyes closed, flat out on the floor.

Before I could do so much as blink, the door at the other side of the room flew open with a crash. My head whipped around and, there in the doorway, stood Patsy Cusack and her happy horde of fellow feminists, a medical bag in one hand and an iron-tipped parasol in the other.

"We're here, no need to fear!" she proclaimed. "Now, where's my cute niece? And where is that bastard of a father of hers so I can beat him up?"

Turning back to the other side of the bed, I glanced down at the prone body on the floor. "Um...about that..."

***

"Awww...! He's just cuuuute! Cute with a capital C!"

"Coochie coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo!"

"'e's a boy. I don't think 'e's got a coochie."

"Not that kind of coochee, Amy!"

"Aah! Give him here! I can't help it anymore, I've got to cuddle him!"