"I CAN'T STOP looking at her," Kate ogled, sitting in the loveseat chair that Dave had given up fo her. She was at Reagan's hospital bedside, staring into Gracie's incubator with round eyes that had not lost their sheen of tears since she'd first entered the room.

"You and me both," Reagan said. Her hand had started to ache from keeping it stretched out into the walls of the incubator, close enough so that she could caress the blankets encasing her daughter whenever she so pleased. Everyone who had trickled in and out of the room, Dave included, had urged to catch up on her sleep, but she'd been unable to shut her eyes towards the miracle that laid right in front of her. She stared at Gracie hungrily, watching the faint rise and fall of her chest with every minute that passed. She didn't want to miss a moment. She didn't want to close her eyes only to open them several hours later and learn that something had happened, that Gracie had become unstable in the time that she was sleeping.

"You're a mom," Kate whispered softly. She reached out and touched her fingertips to Reagan's wrist, smiling a watery smile that quivered at her lips.

"And you're an aunt," Reagan replied. They spoke in hushed whispers, attempting to be courteous of Dave who had pulled up another chair to Reagan's bed and was lulling his head against her thigh. He was fast asleep, snoring gently as he dreamed beside his wife. Reagan didn't envy him. He may have felt comfortable enough to slip into unconsciousness, but she wasn't ready to turn away from Gracie. Not yet. She was still trying to process that the living, breathing little thing next to her was wholly and entirely hers.

"I wish I could hold her," Kate said.

"Dave and I said the same thing. It's not the same, not being able to hold her and feed her and talk to her. I want to feel her in my arms. I want to know that she's real," Reagan explained in a rushed jumble of words, vocalizing the thoughts that had raced inside her head for the past several hours.

"You know, I don't see much of Dave in her," Kate remarked after snatching a glimpse at Dave's wilted upper body, splayed out by Reagan's legs. "She kind of looks more like you."

Reagan scrunched back her nose. "It's too soon to tell. And I don't believe that, anyways. She'll turn out like him. Just watch."

Kate sniffed and stuck a single finger into one of the incubator's holes, gently touching Gracie's velvet soft cheek with the very tip of it. Reagan did not think that she had ever seen her sister overcome with so much emotion at once. From the moment that she had walked into the hospital room, she had sank into the same trance that Reagan and Dave had disappeared into as soon as Gracie had been born. She was just barely hours old and she already had a grip on anyone and everyone who met her.

"She's a little fighter," Kate said. "Just like her mom."

Reagan smiled. "Did you get around to calling Chris?"

"I did. She said that she'd wait to see you guys. She knows that there is a lot going on right now."

"I want to talk to her."

Out of every voice that had attempted to coax Reagan into relaxation, she most craved hearing Chris's. Perhaps hearing her friend's voice would root her back down to earth, back to the normalcy of her life. It would remind her that some things had not changed. She could still be a mother and be the same person that she was a day, a month, even a year ago.

There was a soft knock at the door before it opened, spilling in a sliver of fluorescent light from the hospital hallways. The first head that Reagan saw peek in was her mother's. She would have recognized her own shade of auburn locks from anywhere.

"Is she sleeping?" Kimberly stage-whispered. Reagan, suddenly tense, straightened up in her bed.

"I'm awake, Mom."

The door opened wider and Kimberly and Richard entered the room, creeping in quietly with looks of mystified amazement on their faces. Reagan's initial reaction to seeing Kimberly had caused her chest to seize up, clenching painfully when her mother's face came into full view. As predictable as Kimberly was, she didn't know what to expect from her in this situation. She had been so angry with Reagan for becoming pregnant that it was hard to believe that just because Gracie had arrived that it would make any difference in Kimberly's opinion of the matter.

Reagan's indignation almost nearly melted away when she saw Richard standing behind Kimberly, bespectacled in his glasses and staring directly into Gracie's temporary living space. He inhaled and puffed out his cheeks, clearly fighting back the emotion of having become a grandfather.

"Dad," Reagan said in a voice full of warmth. She withdrew her hand from the incubator and reached out to him, straining her fingers.

"Oh sweetheart," Richard said. "She's . . . she's beautiful."

"I know," Reagan whispered back around a smile, feeling the hot prick of tears in her eyes. No one was as deserving as her father was to be there, taking in the sight of the newly born Gracie. Reagan felt that she owed him so much more than just a glimpse of her daughter. Gracie was his too, albeit in a different way, but still an extension of the life that he had given her twenty-two years ago.

"Is she alright? What did the doctor say?" Kimberly asked urgently. She clutched her purse to her side as her voice hitched anxiously. At first, Reagan thought that she was addressing her. She cocked a single eyebrow before realizing that it was Gracie that Kimberly referenced.

"She's fine," Reagan said. "This is all normal for a newborn her age. They won't let her leave until they get her oxygen levels under control. And she needs the incubator to keep her warm."

"Oh." Kimberly's face grew taut and she swallowed, glancing downwards at the baby that had become her granddaughter. Reagan could not decipher if it was repulsion or love that lingered in Kimberly's features. For the sake of her sanity, she went with the latter, assuming that not even Kimberly would be able to resist the adorable sight of Gracie bunched into her pink blankets.

Dave began to stir, lifting his head tiredly from Reagan's leg and clearing sleep from his eyes. He smiled lazily at her before realizing who else was in the room. This sharpened his attention, and he sat up straight in his chair and hurriedly brushed away the long strands of his hair that had fallen into his face.

"Mister and Missus Abner, hi," he said, fighting back a yawn as he stretched his arms back.

"Hi Dave," Richard said with a small grin. "How are you feeling?"

Dave laughed awkwardly and placed his hands on his knees, swaying forward. He looked bashful and unsure of how to approach Reagan's parents. After all, the baby that they were admiring was his too.

"Relieved," Dave admitted. "She's healthy. That's all I could ask for."

"When will they let her leave?" Kimberly asked, using the same pinched voice that she had taken on when posing her first question. An immediate silence followed.

Reagan sighed, trying to disguise her frustration. "As soon as she can be on her own, Mom. Didn't I just explain that to you?"

"Er, Kate, I'm going to the vending machines. Want to come?" Dave asked, jerking his chin towards the door. Reagan shot him a look. So he thought he could escape from the confrontation and leave her alone?

"Right behind you," Kate said eagerly. She jumped up from her chair and bustled after Dave out the door, barely looking back at her sister as she left her to deal with their parents on her own. Reagan grumbled.

Traitors, she thought.

As soon as the door squeaked close in their wake, more silence ensued, this time punctured by the sound of Kimberly clearing her throat.

"Can I touch her?" she asked.

"Yeah," Reagan replied. She watched as Kimberly approached the incubator, sticking her hands inside to adjust Gracie's blankets. "Gently," she added on second thought.

Kimberly looked up with a narrowed gaze. "I know what I'm doing. I've had more children than you, haven't I?"

"She is mine," Reagan replied tersely through her teeth.

"Alright you two, come on now," Richard chided. "This is a happy occasion. Play nice."

Reagan wanted so badly to point out that Kimberly had been the one to start the argument approximately nine years ago to date, but she bit her tongue. She had too much to be happy about to let Kimberly steal it all away from her. And besides, they had been making progress in their renewed relationship. The least she could do was be the bigger person.

"Oh, her cap is falling into her eyes," Kimberly fretted, gingerly adjusting the snug hat on Gracie's head.

"I take it this means that you like her?" Reagan asked, unable to bite back the last slip of venom on her tongue.

"Like her? I love her, Reagan. She is my granddaughter," Kimberly snapped. "Why are you being so hostile?"

Reagan looked away. It was very much like Kimberly to forget who in the room had just went through the agonizing turmoil of labor, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to address it. An inkling of relief, small but still there, was bubbling inside of her as she realized that Kimberly approved.

"She's been through a lot, Kim," Richard said, swiftly moving to Reagan's rescue. "Think about how stressed you would feel."

"Of course I would be stressed," Kimberly said impatiently. "The poor thing wasn't even due yet. I hope these nurses know what they're doing."

Reagan and Richard exchanged a knowing look as Kimberly continued to tuck her hands into Gracie's blankets, fitting them more comfortably around her as she murmured to herself. Reagan was sure that she must have entered a parallel universe, one in which her mother doted on her child and seemingly forgot the animosity that she'd shown upon initially learning of her conception. It was strange, but still better than the adverse reaction that Reagan had dreaded.

She chatted conversationally with her parents, talking about her labor and praising Dave for his fortitude throughout it. The more she talked about him, the more she wondered where he was. She would absolutely be getting him back for abandoning her without a crutch to lean on. Having him there beside her would have at least put her in a more pleasant mood as she watched Kimberly, who never drew her eyes away from Gracie.

Reagan asked where Robbie was, wondering if her younger brother would soon get the chance to meet his niece. Richard explained that he was at home watching the twins. They would bring him to meet Gracie sooner or later, whenever the moment was right. Reagan had a hunch that Robbie was nervous to see her as a new mom, fresh from giving birth to something that had lived inside of her body. It was a lot to stomach for a teenaged boy.

Eventually, Richard suggested that Kimberly go find Kate and Dave.

"Will you tell them to grab me a Coke?" he asked, fishing a few one dollar bills out of his wallet and handing them to Kimberly.

"Alright." She turned to Reagan apprehensively. "Do you want anything?"

Reagan pointed at the water cup on her nightstand. "I'm covered. Thanks."

Kimberly walked out of the room with Richard's money in hand, closing the door and leaving him and Reagan alone. Reagan resisted letting out a heavy sigh. Suddenly, the air around her felt considerably lighter.

"She really is just perfect, Reags," Richard said. He was finally able to get a closer look in Kimberly's absence, leaning so far over the incubator that his glasses slid precariously down the bridge of his nose.

"Take your chance now to enjoy her before Mom comes back," Reagan warned. "She's hogging all of your time with her."

Richard chuckled, mimicking the movements that his wife had made as he stuck one cautious finger into the incubator and tickled it against Gracie's minuscule shoulder.

"Is that why you sent her out?" Reagan pressed. "Because you knew she's being a control freak again?"

"No," Richard said. "I asked her to leave because I want to talk to you."

Reagan braced herself against the pillows stacked behind her back. Oh no. This was the moment she had been waiting for, though she had not expected it out of Richard. She was in no mood for lectures. Didn't anybody get it? Gracie was here and she was hers and nothing except a magic reversal of time would change that. She had no second guesses towards the decision she had made to have Gracie. Yet, what hurt most of all was thinking that Richard did.

"About?" Reagan said. She folded her hands in her lap and gnawed the lower corner of her lip, despising the gloom of misery that settled over her. She couldn't comprehend why anyone, least of all her father, would try to snatch the joyous moment of relishing in her daughter away from her. She didn't care about anyone else's opinion. As much as she loved Richard, she wouldn't let him fill her head with uncertainties. From the moment Reagan had begun pushing Gracie out into the world, she had known that it was the best choice that she'd ever made.

Meeting Dave. Letting herself fall in love with him. Marrying him. Having his baby.

Time was not of the essence. Time meant nothing to her. Every bit of it that she could soak up with Dave and their new baby was priceless.

"Don't look so surly," Richard said through a smile. He fixed his glasses, pushing them back up and standing straight. "I'm not here to scold you, honey."

"Then what do you want to talk about? If it's anything besides about how happy you are, then why does it matter?" Reagan closed her eyes and leaned her head back, defeated. "I thought you would be happy, Dad."

"I am sweetheart, I am," Richard assured her. He sat down on the edge of her bed and took one of her folded hands, clasping it into his own.

"Why do you look so worried, then?" Reagan persisted. "If this isn't about whatever stupid agenda Mom has put you up to?"

"This has nothing to do with your mother. Believe what you want, but she's over the moon about this. You've given her her first grandchild. That cannot be replaced."

Reagan fidgeted, trying to envision Kimberly being over the moon about anything besides her own prerogatives in life. She supposed that it made sense, seeing as how every parent one day aspired to transition to the role of grandparent, but the title didn't fit with Kimberly, at least not yet. That would take some getting used to.

"I just want to know if you're okay," Richard said gently.

"I'm fine, Dad. I feel fine. They're taking good care of me and good care of her. I'm happy." She paused momentarily. "What, do I look upset or something? Because I'm not."

"I know that you're happy right now. But what about in general? Are you alright?"

"I'm not following you," Reagan said as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Richard sighed. "I just need to know, as your father, if you understand it. If you understand what you've stepped into."

"Dad, I'm okay with being a mom, I'm not scared at all, I've taken care of Kody and RaeLynn all my life and —,"

Richard cut her off, squeezing her hand and sighing again as if to prepare himself mentally for the monologue that he was about to launch into.

"Reagan," he began steadily. "I saw Dave on t.v. last night."

Reagan nearly laughed. "You saw Dave on the five o' clock news?'

"That's not what I mean. I flipped through the channels and then I saw him. He was giving an interview with that band of his."

Reagan pondered this, curious to understand further what Richard's reaction had been to seeing her husband on the television. It wasn't a normal thing, especially by her family's standards, and she herself often forgot who she had married. It wasn't as if Dave was like Tommy, an average mechanic being groomed to take over the local shop one day. He was famous in the world of music.

"Okay . . ." Reagan said, prodding Richard to continue.

"Look, honey, all I'm trying to say is that I think that you forget sometimes what you've gotten yourself into," Richard said, struggling to articulate his point. "I see it in your face. It's like you're not seeing what the rest of us all see."

"If you're trying to say that Dave isn't right for me, you're wrong," Reagan said, injured by the implications in Richard's statement. "I thought you liked him, Dad."

"I do. I like him very much." Richard wrung Reagan's hand tighter, closing his other hand on top of it.

"Then why are you saying this?" she whispered. "What are you seeing that I'm not?"

"I see a good man," Richard said firmly. "I see someone who loves you very much and wants to take care of you. But I also see a young man that has bitten off more than he can chew. He's a celebrity now sweetheart, don't you realize that? A musician . . . a rockstar, for lack of a better word. Look, I don't claim to know much about your scene or the famous people that are your age, but this isn't normal sweetheart."

"Dave's normal," Reagan replied hotly. "He's the most well-adjusted —,"

"Reagan," Richard said. He leaned in closer. "His life will never be normal. Not now. Not ever. He is not going to escape this spotlight. I was a drummer once too, and I know that that kid has proven himself. His life is going to be very different than the one we raised you to expect to live."

Reagan mashed her lips together. She could see what Richard saw in his head, the flashing images of Nirvana interviews and the endless repeat of the 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' music video, playing on a constant circuit on MTV. She saw the fans and the nurse that had asked for his autograph, the hundreds of planes that he would step foot on to travel to far-off places where she would not be able to reach him. And most of all she saw his talent, the purest form of talent that she had ever seen exude from a living body in all of her time of musicianship.

She hated to admit it, but she knew that Richard was right. Dave's life would never be normal.

"Dad," she began slowly. "I . . . I know it doesn't seem like it, but I already knew all of that. I'm used to it because I've been here since the start. I don't see Dave like that, though. He's just Dave to me. In my eyes, his job is normal. It's what I'm used to. I love him. He's the only person that I'll ever love."

Her face flushed as the spoke the last part. She felt a little embarrassed, confessing her innermost feelings about Dave to her father, but it had to be said. She wanted to erase that look of doubt on his face as quickly as possible, before it started to worry her.

"I know," Richard said quietly. "I know." He looked over at Gracie, studying her for a moment before turning back to Reagan. "I just don't want you —," he nodded in Gracie's direction, "or her to get hurt. Can you understand that?"

"Dave will never hurt me or Gracie," Reagan said. She could feel her emotions getting the best of her, spilling out in droves as she thought of Dave and his smiling face. "Nothing, not even the life that he lives will make that happen. Trust me, please. I know what I'm doing. Do you think I would really give my heart away to someone who would hurt me or my baby? You taught me better than that, Dad. I learned my worth from you. Do you think I'd ever be with somebody who wasn't half the man that you are?"

"No," Richard said, smiling sadly. "I suppose that I don't."