Fall Out Girl

“There he is,” Patrick said, pointing to a little blue bundle in the plastic case in front of us. “That’s my son, Emmet James Stump.” He signaled to one of the nurses. Smiling slightly, she walked over and unhooked him from the apparatus before handing the baby to him.

“The poor kid, out of all the names in the world, why would you chose that?” I asked.

My twin looked at me. “He’s named after his godmother.”

I let my jaw go completely slack. Coming to my senses, I hit my brother over the head and took the baby out of his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m here to save you now. Being your Godmother, I will call you Furby, because if you’re anything like my brother, you will be fuzzy and garbling uncontrollably before the months’ end. You mark my words.”

Furby cooed at me and put a fist in the air. Brian laughed behind me. “Well, he has your spirit, that’s for sure.”

I looked back over at Patrick. “He’s a fighter, bro, never let anyone tell you different.”

Patrick smiled. “Yes, he is.”

Furby started to cry and convulse in my arms. All of my medical training kicked in as I held him closer to me and whispered soothing words to him. Patrick began to panic and brian did all he could to calm my twin down. After two minutes, Furby settled down. I checked his pulse and sighed in relief. “Thank, god,” I breathed, looking at the baby passed out in my arms. I looked up at the scared face of my brother and the concerned face of my fiancé. I’m not letting my Furby die this quickly. I squared my shoulders and walked over to the nurse.

“Emmy, this isn’t your hospital,” Brian warned.

I ignored him. “Hello, I’m Dr. Amelia Stump, this is my nephew. He’s having premature convulsions. Can you run a few scans on him for me?”

“Right away, Dr. Stump,” she replied, taking Furby away from me and carrying him out of the nursery.

“Emmy, why is she taking my baby?”

I looked back at my brother. “Because, he’s not supposed to have convulsions that soon.”

What was left of the color in Pat’s face instantly drained.

“C’mon, let’s go get you something to eat and drink- you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Emmy, what does that mean?”

I looked back at him. He stood rooted to his spot. “Nothing, it just means that he has premature convulsions. Don’t worry about it, he’s in good hands. Let’s get you some food, yea?”

“Amelia, che cosa è errato con il mio figlio? Quanto tempo deve vivere?” (Amelia, what is wrong with my son? How long does he have to live?).

“Abbia fede. Soltanto chi vivrà vedrà. Nel frattempo, mangi in moda da poterlo avere lui un padre.” (Have faith. Only time will tell. In the meantime, eat so that he can have a father.)

Pat nodded and led the way out of the nursery.

“That was a noble thing to do. He really needed to hear it.” Brian whispered in my ear.

“Since when did you speak Italian?”

He smiled and pressed his lips against my cheek. “You forget that I’m half Italian. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he added after seeing my worried look,” he added after seeing my worried look.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, it’s what I do.”

“No, for everything. I can’t imagine what I would do without you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”