Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele
Part 3: House of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dancing
Thursday, 15 December 1988 -- 38 weeks, 0 days
Remington made a call to Detective Baylor in the first fifteen minutes of arriving at the agency. Laura
settled onto his couch with the stack of files and paper-clipped notes on which he’d written neat
questions and thoughts.
She listened with one ear while she admired his attention to detail. For someone who purported to
despise paperwork, he certainly had a knack for it.
Mr. Steele swiftly disclosed the conversation they’d had with Penny’s mother yesterday and made
arrangements to revisit Major Descoine’s home within the hour. After concluding the call, Remington
rubbed his face in frustration.
“Even with all that, Laura, all they can do is hold her long enough for her mother to get there.”
“Have Ms. Townsend at the station with the guardianship papers and power-of-attorney. And find out
what arrangements she’s made. We don’t want Penny slipping free because her mom let her stay the
night at home,” Laura suggested.
“I’ll do that. I can call her from the car.” He stood, rebuttoning his coat. “Ah, I don’t have to go with
John,” he offered.
“Of course, you do,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice sincere. “I’ll be here, safe and sound, doing
paperwork with my feet up. If anything happens, I’ll page you. Otherwise, we’ll plan on having a late
lunch and picking up Siobhán this afternoon.”
Relief clear in his expression, Remington kissed her before leaving. She firmly squashed down her
irritation over missing the action. Having the baby roll around a couple of times to get comfortable
helped to affirm her decision to stay at the agency rather than ride in the car.
In the meantime, she wrote her own notes answering Remington’s questions, made suggestions for
Sandra and Kaleb to pursue on a couple of cases, and signed off on the ones Sandra and Mildred had
closed in the past week, including two that Laura’d had to drop in Sandra’s lap at the last minute.
The redheaded detective had done a good job handling both cases. Sandra’s only real weakness as a
detective had to do with writing reports, but since coming to work for the Steeles, she’d improved by
leaps and bounds.
That the completed case files were in her stack surprised Laura. Remington had no problem signing off
on a security setup, but he still passed over casework to her for a final review and signature. Laura had
anticipated he would take over that last step from her with aplomb. She hadn’t realized until his
confession last night that he still deferred to her experience.
The compliment flattered and unsettled her all at the same time.
The baby tossed and turned, shifting and kicking in the meantime. Her back ached. She wasn’t sure if it
was residual pain from the contractions the day before, because she was eight and half months pregnant
or because there were new contractions. She ignored it while she worked.
Mildred popped her head in after a while, using the poor excuse of bringing in a file and a question. But
Laura was uneasy enough to be grateful for the interruption.
“How are you doing, Mrs. Steele?”
Laura dropped the current file on the low table with the others and rolled her eyes slightly. “Doing my
best to keep myself entertained.”
“Is it working?” Mildred plopped down into the chair next to her.
“Not really, but at least I’m getting a few things done.”
“You don’t have to worry about him, you know,” the blonde assured her.
Laura slid a glance her way. “I know. It’s a habit now.”
“Not a bad one.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Well, if you’re not terribly involved in your paperwork, I need to bounce a situation off you that I’m
working on.”
Grateful for the distraction, Laura nodded. “Lay it on me.”
Remington returned just after lunch, still impeccably dressed and without a hair out of place. Laura was
alone again after spending most of the morning with Mildred. They’d resorted to white-boarding the case
so the two could visually trace the flow of money and disappearing property. They hadn’t solved it yet,
but the process had unveiled two leads to pursue. Mildred had Ian chasing down one while she tackled
the other.
Remington crossed over, touching her cheek before sitting on the table across from her. Idly, he picked
up a file she’d finished.
“How did it go?” Laura asked.
Dropping the folder back on the stack, he gave her an odd look. “Disturbing at best.” She tilted her
head, waiting for him to go on. “I rode with John. He and two of his officers went in and found Penny
in the attic just as her mother said. They served the restraining order to her and arrested her for
assaulting you.”
Laura frowned and he held up a hand. “Yes, I know. It’s flimsy, and I dropped the charges in favor of
Penny’s being released into her mother’s custody--on the assurance her mother was taking her directly to
a facility where she’ll be confined for the time being. In the meantime, her mother is working on getting
a court order forbidding her daughter to have contact with her father. I don’t know how successful she’ll
be, given that Penny is of age, but she’s pursuing it all the same.”
She crossed her arms. “I know it’s the right thing to do, but it’s certainly less satisfying than having her
locked up in jail.”
Remington nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He took her hand in his. “I have an extraordinary urge to
enjoy your company for the rest of the afternoon without all the stress and urgency of the past few
weeks.”
Laura looked down at the files. “Give me fifteen minutes to go over these with you, and you’ve got a
deal. Besides, we’re hungry.”
He framed her face with his hands for a deliberate kiss that did much to settle both of them. Together,
they closed out the work for the day, passing the files to Ian as they walked out the door.
Over an exquisite dinner Remington created out of a roasted chicken with mushroom stuffing. Siobhán
discovered her dad was serious about the danger being only temporary when she asked if she could sleep
over at Caitlyn’s on Saturday night.
With a quick glance at Laura, who only smiled back at him, Remington nodded. “Certainly, Siobhán.
What time should we drop you off?” He enjoyed his daughter’s look of astonishment at his easy
answer. He was sure she had been ready to put up a fight if he'd said no.
Warily, she answered, “Four, if you don’t mind me going to dinner with Caitlyn’s family; six, if you do.”
Laura looked down at her plate to conceal her smirk, but since Remington was sitting across from her, he
caught it as he answered, “Four it is.” Strictly for his own amusement, he turned the conversation
around. “Do you have plans for tomorrow evening, a stór?”
She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “No. Why?”
He "tsked" at her. “Such suspicion. Each year I take Laura to see the opening performance of The
Nutcracker, and we have dinner afterward. We would enjoy your company if you would like to attend.
However, if being with your parents is too confining, I’m certain Mildred would appreciate an evening
with you; or you could call Jennifer if you care to make other plans.”
Siobhán pursed her lips and looked at Laura--who did her best to keep a neutral expression on her face
even as her eyes glinted with amusement. Peering back at Remington, she searched his face for
deception. “It’s really up to me?”
Raising his eyebrows, he swallowed a bite of his chicken before answering. “Of course.”
“I’d like to go with you.” Turning, she asked Laura, “Mom, what should I wear?”
“What about your gray dress from the Policeman’s Ball?” she suggested.
Siobhán’s eyes lit up. “Formal wear?”
Laura smiled. “It is the ballet. Of course.”
Friday, Laura pulled the pillow over her head while Remington and Siobhán shuffled through their
morning routine. She dozed until the ache in her back became uncomfortable, then she dressed and
played housekeeper, idly straightening the living room and her office. A load of laundry went into the
wash, and then she settled in to watch a movie.
Around noon, the phone rang. Laura scooted off the barstool at the kitchen island where she had been
picking at a bowl of fruit for lunch and made a waddling dash to the side table in the living room. She
picked up the telephone with one hand and pressed the other against the small of her back. “Hello?”
“Hey, Lunatic.”
Laura rolled her eyes at her sister’s nickname for her. “Hi, Steamroller.”
“How are you today?” Kate asked with a touch too much innocence in her voice.
Muttering an obscenity under her breath that made Kate laugh, she snapped, “How did you know?”
“Oh, just chalk it up to ‘twintuition.’ How close are your contractions?”
“Not close enough to call Remington or Dr. Berger. Dr. Berger will tell me to stay close to home, and
Remington will pester me every time I wince.”
“What time do you want us there?”
“Us? Are all of you coming?”
“It’s Friday, Laura. We’ll bring our nanny, Tiffany. She can stay with the twins while Murphy and I
come to the hospital.”
“What if it’s just another false alarm, Katy? I don’t want you to fly in for something silly.”
“Let’s go back to ‘twintuition,’ and I’ll worry about what happens if we’re both wrong.”
“Remington has tickets for us for The Nutcracker tonight. He’s going to be disappointed if we miss it.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“Perfect. By the time I round everyone up and get to the Denver airport, we’ll get in about that time.
We’ll go straight to your place and get the kids ready for bed, then head for Cedars. Just try not to hold
your breath during the performance--it’s a dead giveaway.”
“You really think I’ll make it through the ballet?”
“Oh, probably. You haven’t sounded out of breath yet while we’ve talked. Just be prepared if your
water breaks.”
“Oh God, I didn’t think of that. Maybe I should tell Remington after all.” Laura shifted the phone to a
shoulder and began picking at her nails.
“Don’t. He’ll figure it out soon enough. If you have to go to the hospital earlier, it’s not any big deal.
How far apart are your contractions?”
“Ten or fifteen minutes, more if I move around.”
Kate asked bluntly, “Do they hurt?”
“They're uncomfortable, but not painful,” Laura replied. “Not like earlier this week, but they've been
consistent all morning.”
“Call your doctor and let her know what’s going on. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Kate?”
“Yes, Laura.”
“Thanks.”
“Always, twin.”
Laura had Fred stop by the penthouse to pick up her overnight bag for the hospital. She also gave him
the baby bag to put into the trunk of the limo.
He swallowed hard. “You okay, Mrs. Steele?”
She grinned. “I suspect we’ll need these later on tonight, but I don’t want to mention it to Mr. Steele or
Siobhán yet. We don’t need to worry them unnecessarily.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But stay near the phone this afternoon and during the performance.”
“Will do, ma’am.” He touched his cap and returned to the limo.
Remington returned home with an excited Siobhán. “Mom, I scored an ‘A’ on my physics test!” she
caroled as she dashed through the door.
Laura caught her in a long hug. “Fantastic, sweetie. You certainly studied hard enough. You earned it.”
Siobhán reached across the island to steal a grape from the bowl of fruit Laura had in front of her.
“Mmm, I’m hungry.”
“Eat a snack before the show. It will be a while until dinner.” Laura felt a little guilty when she said
that. The way things were progressing, they would be lucky to get dinner at all. The contractions had
stepped up to the next level, becoming somewhat more frequent, although they still didn’t fall into the
category of “painful” yet.
“I will.” Siobhan snitched a handful of grapes this time before disappearing into her room.
Remington took her face in his hands, eyeing her carefully. “Did you rest today? You look tired.”
Laura found it incredibly difficult to look her partner straight in the eye and lie--so she clung to the single
truth she had instead. “I did rest.” Then she leaned in to kiss him, hoping to distract him.
It worked, but his wary expression told her he would keep a careful eye on her tonight.
She took her time getting dressed. The red gown clung above her belly before falling to the ground. She
cringed at the bulge, her swollen breasts, and her nearly invisible ankles. Thank goodness the last
couldn’t be seen as the dress brushed the floor. She took a last glance in the mirror and caught
Remington’s smug grin.
“What’s got you looking like the Cheshire Cat?” She put her hands on her hips in annoyance as he drew
his fingers along her bare neck, playing with the fat spirals that dripped down her back.
“Sterling Holloway, Alice in Wonderland, Walt Disney, 1951. You look like a Grecian goddess, love.”
“How can you possibly say that? I’m huge.”
“Ah, but Laura, you are wonderfully rotund with child.” He drew his fingers down her bare throat and
across her equally bare collarbone. The silken fabric clung to the curve of her shoulders, and he laid a
kiss just above it. “My child,” he said quietly.
Laura hated to admit that when he flattered her with seeming sincerity, she fell for it every single time.
Either he meant it or he knew exactly how to push the right buttons. It wouldn’t do her any good to try
and guess. Instead, she leaned her head back against his tuxedo jacket and tried to see them as he did in
the mirror. And she smiled.
Remington saw that shy, sweet smile Laura so rarely let out, accompanied by a devilish sparkle in her
maple eyes. The former meant that he was seeing her--that enchanting woman who’d captured his
fascination from the day they met, the one capable of dashing about a winery nearly nude as a distraction
for a board of directors. The latter meant that she was up to something. For the life of him, he couldn’t
decide what it might be; she was too damned pregnant to go haring off to trip the light fantastic
somewhere.
Siobhán broke his concentration when she breezed in clad in the grey gown and a new pair of high heels.
He frowned when he realized she stood nearly eye-to-eye with him. Laura had helped her to sweep up
her hair in a simple twist and apply a light touch of color to her face--appropriate for her age, but only
enhancing the teenager’s ripening beauty. God help the first boy who asked her on a date. Remington
wondered if Laura would stop him from tailing the couple when it happened.
“Mom, can I borrow a bracelet?”
“Of course. Take a look.” Laura pushed her jewelry box toward Siobhán who fingered through the
drawers with care. Laura’s collection wasn’t extensive--not yet. But it held an array of pretty pieces
Laura’d had prior to marriage and the half-dozen or so he'd designed for her since.
Siobhán picked up the bracelet Remington had given Laura for their first Christmas. “You’re wearing this
one, right?”
“Uh huh,” Laura agreed.
“Then may I borrow this one?” She lifted out a simple bracelet strung with small diamonds. Laura had
told him once that her mother had given it to her. At the time, she hadn’t had much appreciation for it,
but over the years, she had taken to wearing it on occasion.
“You may.” Laura took it from her and laid it across Siobhán’s slim wrist to fasten it. “Your grandma
Abigail gave that one to me when I graduated from college.”
“It’s pretty.”
“It is. And so are you. Are you ready?”
“I think so,” Siobhán answered.
“Remington?” Laura looked at him in the mirror.
He saw the three of them decked out in their finery. The stray thought crossed his mind about how far
each of them had come. Before his mood could turn maudlin though, he flashed his charming grin.
“Ladies, shall I escort you to the limo?”
Siobhán sat on the edge of her seat, enraptured by the ballet. Since his first year as Remington Steele, he
had maintained a box at the playhouse. Initially, it had fit the image he’d wanted to create; but a short
time later, he’d discovered that Laura adored the ballet. It was worth the occasional tedium to see her
delight during the show.
The Nutcracker had become a holiday tradition for them. He’d taken Laura for the first time a few
months after Murphy and Bernice had left the agency. She'd been forlorn during that first holiday season
without them. The following year, during the obnoxious Cannes impasse, he’d managed to talk her into
going “as friends.” He grinned at the memory and reached over to lace his fingers with Laura’s. They
hadn’t missed a season since.
His acute hearing caught Laura’s swift inhalation, hardly audible above the music of the “Waltz of the
Flowers.” The accompanying minute clutch of her fingers in his put him on full alert. He glanced at her,
but she stayed focused--apparently on the dancing in front of her.
As if inadvertently, he moved their clasped hands so that his wrist grazed her belly. He shifted his other
arm so that he could see his watch.
Five minutes later, he had undeniable proof Laura was in labor: two contractions, both over a minute
long, and hard enough to make Laura breathe shallowly. For the rest of the ballet, Remington kept track.
When the dancers took their curtain calls, Siobhán leapt out of her chair to applaud wildly. Remington
stood as well, lending Laura a much-needed hand. He had to give her credit--she didn’t give away her
level of discomfort although he knew the contractions had to be bordering on painful by now.
He kept Siobhán occupied with chatter about the show while carefully escorting Laura to where Fred
waited with the limousine. Given the circumstances, he was terribly grateful that boxholders had a
private drive. From Laura’s pale face by the time they reached the car, he wasn’t sure how much more
she could take.
“Laura, darling, Fred’s just outside,” he whispered in her ear. In past months, reminding her of the
limo’s presence had become second nature. Today, she seemed not to hear him until he handed her into
the car. Siobhán slid in behind him, and Fred shut the door.
As Fred began to pull away from the curb, he asked, “Dinner, sir?”
“Ah, no, mate. Cedars-Sinai is our next stop.”
Fred touched his cap. “You called that one, Mrs. Steele.”
Siobhán leaned across Remington to peer at her mom. “Are you having the baby?”
Laura nodded in answer, breathing through another contraction.
Remington frowned. “Exactly how long have you been in labor?”
She shook her head, unable to speak at the moment.
Fred offered one. “At least since two. She had me come by and put her things in the trunk.”
“You’ve been in labor since two?”
“Since I woke up this morning,” Laura said softly. “I didn’t know if it was real at first. By the time I
talked to Kate at noon, I had a good idea it wasn’t going to stop. But since the contractions weren’t very
regular or painful at all, I didn’t want to spoil our evening by walking around a hospital room.”
He forcefully reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to argue with her despite his disappointment at
not knowing. Then he frowned at her again. “You were contracting while we dressed for the show?”
Laura nodded again, breathing shallowly once more. She turned to lay her head against his shoulder. He
cradled her there with one arm while keeping up a spirited conversation with Siobhán as they rode to the
hospital.
Fred stopped at the Labor and Delivery entrance to offload his passengers. Laura moaned, squeezing
Remington’s hand hard as Siobhán shrieked happily as she scrambled out of the car. He forgot about her
as he watched Laura go somewhere deep inside herself for a long minute.
“That hurt,” she complained softly for his ears only. He nodded and drew her out of the car.
“Damn, Steele. Do you really have to dress quite so formally for a trip to the hospital?” a man's voice
called out.
Remington turned to find Kate and Murphy standing on the sidewalk with Siobhán still hugging her aunt.
“Michaels, you mean they dress casually for this sort of thing in the colonies? Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a
bloody lack of decorum.” He caught his brother-in-law’s hand and wrist for a quick squeeze before
helping Laura to the sidewalk and into her sister’s embrace.
“I guess you don’t want these then?” Murphy lifted a leather carry-all Remington recognized as his own.
“What’s that?”
“A change of clothing for all of you. Kate thought to bring it from the penthouse while we were getting
the boys settled.”
“God bless you,” Remington muttered as he loosened his tie and freed the top two studs on his shirt.
The hospital staff settled Laura in a room and notified her doctor. Remington and Murphy waited
outside the room while Siobhán changed clothes and Kate helped Laura exchange her evening gown for a
hospital gown.
“How is she doing?” Murphy asked.
Remington swore. “The bloody woman’s been in labor for the better part of the day and didn’t bother
cluing me in. I had to figure it out for myself during the ballet.”
His brother roared with laughter. “How’d she manage to get past you on that one?”
“I’m not certain, but I think she distracted me with a kiss and a smile,” Remington admitted.
“Always a sucker for a pretty face, Steele.”
“As if you’re any different, Michaels. You fell for the same pretty face.” Both men smirked
companionably at each other.
Siobhán popped her head out of the room. “All clear.”
Remington jumped to his feet, and Murphy followed him inside where Laura paced with Kate holding her
hand as they walked. Remington ducked into the bathroom to change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
The nurse at the birthing class had warned him not to wear anything he couldn’t replace. He’d decided it
was best not to dwell on the implications of that as he turned and rehung the tuxedo on the hanger Kate
had thoughtfully provided. He fingered Laura’s red dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
He opened the door just as Dr. Berger breezed in, full of smiles and hearty chuckles. “So, Mrs. Steele,
we’re here for real this time. How are you doing?”
Laura only gave her a wan smile in response as she sat on the edge of the bed. Remington perched near
her, rubbing her back.
“Okay, everyone out except for Mom and Dad while I do a quick exam.”
Laura protested as the others left the room, “I want to go too.”
Remington kissed their clasped fingers in response while Dr. Berger grinned. “You wouldn’t believe how
many times I’ve heard that. Okay, Dad--your job is to watch the monitors and tell me when Laura is
having a contraction.”
He didn’t argue, but his sensitive fingers could tell him much more reliably than a pair of sensors with a
tendency to slip out of place. Moments later, the exam was finished.
“Laura, you’re at almost an eight--which means you’re definitely having this baby tonight, but we have a
little way to go. I want you up and walking as much as possible. Don’t be surprised if your water
breaks; it can go at anytime. The nurses will be checking on you; otherwise, I’ll be back in an hour.”
As the doctor left, Laura moaned her way through another contraction. Remington placed counter-
pressure on her back, massaging lightly as he did so. When the muscles began to unknot, he coached her
through the end. “That’s done, love. Breathe.”
“An hour?” Laura gasped. “Is she for real? Where’s that epidural?”
“I thought you didn’t want one?”
“I’ve changed my mind. This hurts,” she complained.
“I’ll buzz the nurse.”
Unfortunately for Laura, the anesthesiologist had to be paged, as he’d already left the hospital. While she
paced in discomfort, Murphy and Siobhán made a late night run for dinner--partially because the teen
was hungry, partially because Kate and Murphy had the presence of mind to realize that Siobhán didn’t
necessarily need to see a great deal of Laura’s labor.
Kate stayed behind and made the obligatory phone calls to the family. Frances promised to bring Abigail
in the morning; Mildred abandoned her bowling team to drive straight to the hospital.
Mildred arrived within minutes of Murphy and Siobhán and took it upon herself to keep an eye on the
teen through the next several hours. Whenever Siobhán began to look nervous, Mildred patiently talked
to her and helped her to understand what was happening.
Remington was only peripherally aware of all this. Occasionally, he’d look up and see that either
Murphy or Mildred had Siobhán in hand as they wandered between the waiting area and the hospital
room. He asked his daughter at one point if she wanted to stay or go home, and she’d emphatically
insisted on staying put.
“Don’t worry about me, Da. Mom needs you right now. Ms. Mildred and Uncle Murphy are hanging
out with me. Just … you’ll tell me if anything weird happens, right?”
“Of course, a stór.” Grateful for his daughter’s maturity, he kissed her on the temple as she dragged
Murphy and Mildred down the hall to wait some more.
Remington refused to leave Laura’s side. He and Kate kept up a distracting friendly chatter and took
turns rubbing Laura’s back and walking with her. Predictably, her temper increased along with her
progress.
Dr. Berger returned, and Remington pointedly reminded her about Laura’s epidural.
“I know. He’s on his way; he had an emergency to address first at the other end of the hospital. But
let’s see how we’re doing.”
Kate joined her husband in the waiting room as Laura wearily sat on the bed. “I want this to be over,
Dr. Berger,” she said.
The doctor patted her hand. “It will be before much longer.”
Remington tried to distract Laura with silly baby names while she had her exam. “Sam Spade Steele.
There’s some rather nice alliteration there.”
“Nice try, Rei. Not happening.” She closed her eyes and gripped his hand hard as Dr. Berger finished.
“Laura, you’re almost there. Nine and a half. Let me know when you feel like pushing, okay? I’m not
going very far at all.”
She nodded and a frission of anxiety washed over Remington, laced with a healthy dose of fear. He
forced all of it away though in favor of helping Laura breathe past another contraction.
He helped her to the edge of the bed, but before she stood, she reached around to hug him to her. With
him as her only witness, Laura gave in to all her fears and cried in great sobs. “I can’t do this, Rei. It
hurts.”
Hating the feeling of helplessness, he clutched her to him and tried to find the words to soothe her. “Of
course, you can. You’ve gone the better part of the day already. Before long the little tyke with be here,
and it will be over.”
“I’m so scared,” she whispered.
Bugger me, so am I. “You’ll do fine, love,” he told her.
She looked up, eyes wide and alarmed. “No matter what, you won’t go?”
He shook his head, understanding that logic and sensibility had little place in this hospital room. “No. I
won’t go anywhere. I promise.”
With that assurance, she pulled her emotions inside once again and wiped away her tears.
13 November 2009
Chapter Thirty: House of Steele
Thursday, 15 December 1988 -- 38 weeks, 0 days
Remington made a call to Detective Baylor in the first fifteen minutes of arriving at the agency. Laura
settled onto his couch with the stack of files and paper-clipped notes on which he’d written neat
questions and thoughts.
She listened with one ear while she admired his attention to detail. For someone who purported to
despise paperwork, he certainly had a knack for it.
Mr. Steele swiftly disclosed the conversation they’d had with Penny’s mother yesterday and made
arrangements to revisit Major Descoine’s home within the hour. After concluding the call, Remington
rubbed his face in frustration.
“Even with all that, Laura, all they can do is hold her long enough for her mother to get there.”
“Have Ms. Townsend at the station with the guardianship papers and power-of-attorney. And find out
what arrangements she’s made. We don’t want Penny slipping free because her mom let her stay the
night at home,” Laura suggested.
“I’ll do that. I can call her from the car.” He stood, rebuttoning his coat. “Ah, I don’t have to go with
John,” he offered.
“Of course, you do,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice sincere. “I’ll be here, safe and sound, doing
paperwork with my feet up. If anything happens, I’ll page you. Otherwise, we’ll plan on having a late
lunch and picking up Siobhán this afternoon.”
Relief clear in his expression, Remington kissed her before leaving. She firmly squashed down her
irritation over missing the action. Having the baby roll around a couple of times to get comfortable
helped to affirm her decision to stay at the agency rather than ride in the car.
In the meantime, she wrote her own notes answering Remington’s questions, made suggestions for
Sandra and Kaleb to pursue on a couple of cases, and signed off on the ones Sandra and Mildred had
closed in the past week, including two that Laura’d had to drop in Sandra’s lap at the last minute.
The redheaded detective had done a good job handling both cases. Sandra’s only real weakness as a
detective had to do with writing reports, but since coming to work for the Steeles, she’d improved by
leaps and bounds.
That the completed case files were in her stack surprised Laura. Remington had no problem signing off
on a security setup, but he still passed over casework to her for a final review and signature. Laura had
anticipated he would take over that last step from her with aplomb. She hadn’t realized until his
confession last night that he still deferred to her experience.
The compliment flattered and unsettled her all at the same time.
The baby tossed and turned, shifting and kicking in the meantime. Her back ached. She wasn’t sure if it
was residual pain from the contractions the day before, because she was eight and half months pregnant
or because there were new contractions. She ignored it while she worked.
Mildred popped her head in after a while, using the poor excuse of bringing in a file and a question. But
Laura was uneasy enough to be grateful for the interruption.
“How are you doing, Mrs. Steele?”
Laura dropped the current file on the low table with the others and rolled her eyes slightly. “Doing my
best to keep myself entertained.”
“Is it working?” Mildred plopped down into the chair next to her.
“Not really, but at least I’m getting a few things done.”
“You don’t have to worry about him, you know,” the blonde assured her.
Laura slid a glance her way. “I know. It’s a habit now.”
“Not a bad one.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Well, if you’re not terribly involved in your paperwork, I need to bounce a situation off you that I’m
working on.”
Grateful for the distraction, Laura nodded. “Lay it on me.”
Remington returned just after lunch, still impeccably dressed and without a hair out of place. Laura was
alone again after spending most of the morning with Mildred. They’d resorted to white-boarding the case
so the two could visually trace the flow of money and disappearing property. They hadn’t solved it yet,
but the process had unveiled two leads to pursue. Mildred had Ian chasing down one while she tackled
the other.
Remington crossed over, touching her cheek before sitting on the table across from her. Idly, he picked
up a file she’d finished.
“How did it go?” Laura asked.
Dropping the folder back on the stack, he gave her an odd look. “Disturbing at best.” She tilted her
head, waiting for him to go on. “I rode with John. He and two of his officers went in and found Penny
in the attic just as her mother said. They served the restraining order to her and arrested her for
assaulting you.”
Laura frowned and he held up a hand. “Yes, I know. It’s flimsy, and I dropped the charges in favor of
Penny’s being released into her mother’s custody--on the assurance her mother was taking her directly to
a facility where she’ll be confined for the time being. In the meantime, her mother is working on getting
a court order forbidding her daughter to have contact with her father. I don’t know how successful she’ll
be, given that Penny is of age, but she’s pursuing it all the same.”
She crossed her arms. “I know it’s the right thing to do, but it’s certainly less satisfying than having her
locked up in jail.”
Remington nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He took her hand in his. “I have an extraordinary urge to
enjoy your company for the rest of the afternoon without all the stress and urgency of the past few
weeks.”
Laura looked down at the files. “Give me fifteen minutes to go over these with you, and you’ve got a
deal. Besides, we’re hungry.”
He framed her face with his hands for a deliberate kiss that did much to settle both of them. Together,
they closed out the work for the day, passing the files to Ian as they walked out the door.
Over an exquisite dinner Remington created out of a roasted chicken with mushroom stuffing. Siobhán
discovered her dad was serious about the danger being only temporary when she asked if she could sleep
over at Caitlyn’s on Saturday night.
With a quick glance at Laura, who only smiled back at him, Remington nodded. “Certainly, Siobhán.
What time should we drop you off?” He enjoyed his daughter’s look of astonishment at his easy
answer. He was sure she had been ready to put up a fight if he'd said no.
Warily, she answered, “Four, if you don’t mind me going to dinner with Caitlyn’s family; six, if you do.”
Laura looked down at her plate to conceal her smirk, but since Remington was sitting across from her, he
caught it as he answered, “Four it is.” Strictly for his own amusement, he turned the conversation
around. “Do you have plans for tomorrow evening, a stór?”
She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “No. Why?”
He "tsked" at her. “Such suspicion. Each year I take Laura to see the opening performance of The
Nutcracker, and we have dinner afterward. We would enjoy your company if you would like to attend.
However, if being with your parents is too confining, I’m certain Mildred would appreciate an evening
with you; or you could call Jennifer if you care to make other plans.”
Siobhán pursed her lips and looked at Laura--who did her best to keep a neutral expression on her face
even as her eyes glinted with amusement. Peering back at Remington, she searched his face for
deception. “It’s really up to me?”
Raising his eyebrows, he swallowed a bite of his chicken before answering. “Of course.”
“I’d like to go with you.” Turning, she asked Laura, “Mom, what should I wear?”
“What about your gray dress from the Policeman’s Ball?” she suggested.
Siobhán’s eyes lit up. “Formal wear?”
Laura smiled. “It is the ballet. Of course.”
Friday, Laura pulled the pillow over her head while Remington and Siobhán shuffled through their
morning routine. She dozed until the ache in her back became uncomfortable, then she dressed and
played housekeeper, idly straightening the living room and her office. A load of laundry went into the
wash, and then she settled in to watch a movie.
Around noon, the phone rang. Laura scooted off the barstool at the kitchen island where she had been
picking at a bowl of fruit for lunch and made a waddling dash to the side table in the living room. She
picked up the telephone with one hand and pressed the other against the small of her back. “Hello?”
“Hey, Lunatic.”
Laura rolled her eyes at her sister’s nickname for her. “Hi, Steamroller.”
“How are you today?” Kate asked with a touch too much innocence in her voice.
Muttering an obscenity under her breath that made Kate laugh, she snapped, “How did you know?”
“Oh, just chalk it up to ‘twintuition.’ How close are your contractions?”
“Not close enough to call Remington or Dr. Berger. Dr. Berger will tell me to stay close to home, and
Remington will pester me every time I wince.”
“What time do you want us there?”
“Us? Are all of you coming?”
“It’s Friday, Laura. We’ll bring our nanny, Tiffany. She can stay with the twins while Murphy and I
come to the hospital.”
“What if it’s just another false alarm, Katy? I don’t want you to fly in for something silly.”
“Let’s go back to ‘twintuition,’ and I’ll worry about what happens if we’re both wrong.”
“Remington has tickets for us for The Nutcracker tonight. He’s going to be disappointed if we miss it.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“Perfect. By the time I round everyone up and get to the Denver airport, we’ll get in about that time.
We’ll go straight to your place and get the kids ready for bed, then head for Cedars. Just try not to hold
your breath during the performance--it’s a dead giveaway.”
“You really think I’ll make it through the ballet?”
“Oh, probably. You haven’t sounded out of breath yet while we’ve talked. Just be prepared if your
water breaks.”
“Oh God, I didn’t think of that. Maybe I should tell Remington after all.” Laura shifted the phone to a
shoulder and began picking at her nails.
“Don’t. He’ll figure it out soon enough. If you have to go to the hospital earlier, it’s not any big deal.
How far apart are your contractions?”
“Ten or fifteen minutes, more if I move around.”
Kate asked bluntly, “Do they hurt?”
“They're uncomfortable, but not painful,” Laura replied. “Not like earlier this week, but they've been
consistent all morning.”
“Call your doctor and let her know what’s going on. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Kate?”
“Yes, Laura.”
“Thanks.”
“Always, twin.”
Laura had Fred stop by the penthouse to pick up her overnight bag for the hospital. She also gave him
the baby bag to put into the trunk of the limo.
He swallowed hard. “You okay, Mrs. Steele?”
She grinned. “I suspect we’ll need these later on tonight, but I don’t want to mention it to Mr. Steele or
Siobhán yet. We don’t need to worry them unnecessarily.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But stay near the phone this afternoon and during the performance.”
“Will do, ma’am.” He touched his cap and returned to the limo.
Remington returned home with an excited Siobhán. “Mom, I scored an ‘A’ on my physics test!” she
caroled as she dashed through the door.
Laura caught her in a long hug. “Fantastic, sweetie. You certainly studied hard enough. You earned it.”
Siobhán reached across the island to steal a grape from the bowl of fruit Laura had in front of her.
“Mmm, I’m hungry.”
“Eat a snack before the show. It will be a while until dinner.” Laura felt a little guilty when she said
that. The way things were progressing, they would be lucky to get dinner at all. The contractions had
stepped up to the next level, becoming somewhat more frequent, although they still didn’t fall into the
category of “painful” yet.
“I will.” Siobhan snitched a handful of grapes this time before disappearing into her room.
Remington took her face in his hands, eyeing her carefully. “Did you rest today? You look tired.”
Laura found it incredibly difficult to look her partner straight in the eye and lie--so she clung to the single
truth she had instead. “I did rest.” Then she leaned in to kiss him, hoping to distract him.
It worked, but his wary expression told her he would keep a careful eye on her tonight.
She took her time getting dressed. The red gown clung above her belly before falling to the ground. She
cringed at the bulge, her swollen breasts, and her nearly invisible ankles. Thank goodness the last
couldn’t be seen as the dress brushed the floor. She took a last glance in the mirror and caught
Remington’s smug grin.
“What’s got you looking like the Cheshire Cat?” She put her hands on her hips in annoyance as he drew
his fingers along her bare neck, playing with the fat spirals that dripped down her back.
“Sterling Holloway, Alice in Wonderland, Walt Disney, 1951. You look like a Grecian goddess, love.”
“How can you possibly say that? I’m huge.”
“Ah, but Laura, you are wonderfully rotund with child.” He drew his fingers down her bare throat and
across her equally bare collarbone. The silken fabric clung to the curve of her shoulders, and he laid a
kiss just above it. “My child,” he said quietly.
Laura hated to admit that when he flattered her with seeming sincerity, she fell for it every single time.
Either he meant it or he knew exactly how to push the right buttons. It wouldn’t do her any good to try
and guess. Instead, she leaned her head back against his tuxedo jacket and tried to see them as he did in
the mirror. And she smiled.
Remington saw that shy, sweet smile Laura so rarely let out, accompanied by a devilish sparkle in her
maple eyes. The former meant that he was seeing her--that enchanting woman who’d captured his
fascination from the day they met, the one capable of dashing about a winery nearly nude as a distraction
for a board of directors. The latter meant that she was up to something. For the life of him, he couldn’t
decide what it might be; she was too damned pregnant to go haring off to trip the light fantastic
somewhere.
Siobhán broke his concentration when she breezed in clad in the grey gown and a new pair of high heels.
He frowned when he realized she stood nearly eye-to-eye with him. Laura had helped her to sweep up
her hair in a simple twist and apply a light touch of color to her face--appropriate for her age, but only
enhancing the teenager’s ripening beauty. God help the first boy who asked her on a date. Remington
wondered if Laura would stop him from tailing the couple when it happened.
“Mom, can I borrow a bracelet?”
“Of course. Take a look.” Laura pushed her jewelry box toward Siobhán who fingered through the
drawers with care. Laura’s collection wasn’t extensive--not yet. But it held an array of pretty pieces
Laura’d had prior to marriage and the half-dozen or so he'd designed for her since.
Siobhán picked up the bracelet Remington had given Laura for their first Christmas. “You’re wearing this
one, right?”
“Uh huh,” Laura agreed.
“Then may I borrow this one?” She lifted out a simple bracelet strung with small diamonds. Laura had
told him once that her mother had given it to her. At the time, she hadn’t had much appreciation for it,
but over the years, she had taken to wearing it on occasion.
“You may.” Laura took it from her and laid it across Siobhán’s slim wrist to fasten it. “Your grandma
Abigail gave that one to me when I graduated from college.”
“It’s pretty.”
“It is. And so are you. Are you ready?”
“I think so,” Siobhán answered.
“Remington?” Laura looked at him in the mirror.
He saw the three of them decked out in their finery. The stray thought crossed his mind about how far
each of them had come. Before his mood could turn maudlin though, he flashed his charming grin.
“Ladies, shall I escort you to the limo?”
Siobhán sat on the edge of her seat, enraptured by the ballet. Since his first year as Remington Steele, he
had maintained a box at the playhouse. Initially, it had fit the image he’d wanted to create; but a short
time later, he’d discovered that Laura adored the ballet. It was worth the occasional tedium to see her
delight during the show.
The Nutcracker had become a holiday tradition for them. He’d taken Laura for the first time a few
months after Murphy and Bernice had left the agency. She'd been forlorn during that first holiday season
without them. The following year, during the obnoxious Cannes impasse, he’d managed to talk her into
going “as friends.” He grinned at the memory and reached over to lace his fingers with Laura’s. They
hadn’t missed a season since.
His acute hearing caught Laura’s swift inhalation, hardly audible above the music of the “Waltz of the
Flowers.” The accompanying minute clutch of her fingers in his put him on full alert. He glanced at her,
but she stayed focused--apparently on the dancing in front of her.
As if inadvertently, he moved their clasped hands so that his wrist grazed her belly. He shifted his other
arm so that he could see his watch.
Five minutes later, he had undeniable proof Laura was in labor: two contractions, both over a minute
long, and hard enough to make Laura breathe shallowly. For the rest of the ballet, Remington kept track.
When the dancers took their curtain calls, Siobhán leapt out of her chair to applaud wildly. Remington
stood as well, lending Laura a much-needed hand. He had to give her credit--she didn’t give away her
level of discomfort although he knew the contractions had to be bordering on painful by now.
He kept Siobhán occupied with chatter about the show while carefully escorting Laura to where Fred
waited with the limousine. Given the circumstances, he was terribly grateful that boxholders had a
private drive. From Laura’s pale face by the time they reached the car, he wasn’t sure how much more
she could take.
“Laura, darling, Fred’s just outside,” he whispered in her ear. In past months, reminding her of the
limo’s presence had become second nature. Today, she seemed not to hear him until he handed her into
the car. Siobhán slid in behind him, and Fred shut the door.
As Fred began to pull away from the curb, he asked, “Dinner, sir?”
“Ah, no, mate. Cedars-Sinai is our next stop.”
Fred touched his cap. “You called that one, Mrs. Steele.”
Siobhán leaned across Remington to peer at her mom. “Are you having the baby?”
Laura nodded in answer, breathing through another contraction.
Remington frowned. “Exactly how long have you been in labor?”
She shook her head, unable to speak at the moment.
Fred offered one. “At least since two. She had me come by and put her things in the trunk.”
“You’ve been in labor since two?”
“Since I woke up this morning,” Laura said softly. “I didn’t know if it was real at first. By the time I
talked to Kate at noon, I had a good idea it wasn’t going to stop. But since the contractions weren’t very
regular or painful at all, I didn’t want to spoil our evening by walking around a hospital room.”
He forcefully reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to argue with her despite his disappointment at
not knowing. Then he frowned at her again. “You were contracting while we dressed for the show?”
Laura nodded again, breathing shallowly once more. She turned to lay her head against his shoulder. He
cradled her there with one arm while keeping up a spirited conversation with Siobhán as they rode to the
hospital.
Fred stopped at the Labor and Delivery entrance to offload his passengers. Laura moaned, squeezing
Remington’s hand hard as Siobhán shrieked happily as she scrambled out of the car. He forgot about her
as he watched Laura go somewhere deep inside herself for a long minute.
“That hurt,” she complained softly for his ears only. He nodded and drew her out of the car.
“Damn, Steele. Do you really have to dress quite so formally for a trip to the hospital?” a man's voice
called out.
Remington turned to find Kate and Murphy standing on the sidewalk with Siobhán still hugging her aunt.
“Michaels, you mean they dress casually for this sort of thing in the colonies? Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a
bloody lack of decorum.” He caught his brother-in-law’s hand and wrist for a quick squeeze before
helping Laura to the sidewalk and into her sister’s embrace.
“I guess you don’t want these then?” Murphy lifted a leather carry-all Remington recognized as his own.
“What’s that?”
“A change of clothing for all of you. Kate thought to bring it from the penthouse while we were getting
the boys settled.”
“God bless you,” Remington muttered as he loosened his tie and freed the top two studs on his shirt.
The hospital staff settled Laura in a room and notified her doctor. Remington and Murphy waited
outside the room while Siobhán changed clothes and Kate helped Laura exchange her evening gown for a
hospital gown.
“How is she doing?” Murphy asked.
Remington swore. “The bloody woman’s been in labor for the better part of the day and didn’t bother
cluing me in. I had to figure it out for myself during the ballet.”
His brother roared with laughter. “How’d she manage to get past you on that one?”
“I’m not certain, but I think she distracted me with a kiss and a smile,” Remington admitted.
“Always a sucker for a pretty face, Steele.”
“As if you’re any different, Michaels. You fell for the same pretty face.” Both men smirked
companionably at each other.
Siobhán popped her head out of the room. “All clear.”
Remington jumped to his feet, and Murphy followed him inside where Laura paced with Kate holding her
hand as they walked. Remington ducked into the bathroom to change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
The nurse at the birthing class had warned him not to wear anything he couldn’t replace. He’d decided it
was best not to dwell on the implications of that as he turned and rehung the tuxedo on the hanger Kate
had thoughtfully provided. He fingered Laura’s red dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
He opened the door just as Dr. Berger breezed in, full of smiles and hearty chuckles. “So, Mrs. Steele,
we’re here for real this time. How are you doing?”
Laura only gave her a wan smile in response as she sat on the edge of the bed. Remington perched near
her, rubbing her back.
“Okay, everyone out except for Mom and Dad while I do a quick exam.”
Laura protested as the others left the room, “I want to go too.”
Remington kissed their clasped fingers in response while Dr. Berger grinned. “You wouldn’t believe how
many times I’ve heard that. Okay, Dad--your job is to watch the monitors and tell me when Laura is
having a contraction.”
He didn’t argue, but his sensitive fingers could tell him much more reliably than a pair of sensors with a
tendency to slip out of place. Moments later, the exam was finished.
“Laura, you’re at almost an eight--which means you’re definitely having this baby tonight, but we have a
little way to go. I want you up and walking as much as possible. Don’t be surprised if your water
breaks; it can go at anytime. The nurses will be checking on you; otherwise, I’ll be back in an hour.”
As the doctor left, Laura moaned her way through another contraction. Remington placed counter-
pressure on her back, massaging lightly as he did so. When the muscles began to unknot, he coached her
through the end. “That’s done, love. Breathe.”
“An hour?” Laura gasped. “Is she for real? Where’s that epidural?”
“I thought you didn’t want one?”
“I’ve changed my mind. This hurts,” she complained.
“I’ll buzz the nurse.”
Unfortunately for Laura, the anesthesiologist had to be paged, as he’d already left the hospital. While she
paced in discomfort, Murphy and Siobhán made a late night run for dinner--partially because the teen
was hungry, partially because Kate and Murphy had the presence of mind to realize that Siobhán didn’t
necessarily need to see a great deal of Laura’s labor.
Kate stayed behind and made the obligatory phone calls to the family. Frances promised to bring Abigail
in the morning; Mildred abandoned her bowling team to drive straight to the hospital.
Mildred arrived within minutes of Murphy and Siobhán and took it upon herself to keep an eye on the
teen through the next several hours. Whenever Siobhán began to look nervous, Mildred patiently talked
to her and helped her to understand what was happening.
Remington was only peripherally aware of all this. Occasionally, he’d look up and see that either
Murphy or Mildred had Siobhán in hand as they wandered between the waiting area and the hospital
room. He asked his daughter at one point if she wanted to stay or go home, and she’d emphatically
insisted on staying put.
“Don’t worry about me, Da. Mom needs you right now. Ms. Mildred and Uncle Murphy are hanging
out with me. Just … you’ll tell me if anything weird happens, right?”
“Of course, a stór.” Grateful for his daughter’s maturity, he kissed her on the temple as she dragged
Murphy and Mildred down the hall to wait some more.
Remington refused to leave Laura’s side. He and Kate kept up a distracting friendly chatter and took
turns rubbing Laura’s back and walking with her. Predictably, her temper increased along with her
progress.
Dr. Berger returned, and Remington pointedly reminded her about Laura’s epidural.
“I know. He’s on his way; he had an emergency to address first at the other end of the hospital. But
let’s see how we’re doing.”
Kate joined her husband in the waiting room as Laura wearily sat on the bed. “I want this to be over,
Dr. Berger,” she said.
The doctor patted her hand. “It will be before much longer.”
Remington tried to distract Laura with silly baby names while she had her exam. “Sam Spade Steele.
There’s some rather nice alliteration there.”
“Nice try, Rei. Not happening.” She closed her eyes and gripped his hand hard as Dr. Berger finished.
“Laura, you’re almost there. Nine and a half. Let me know when you feel like pushing, okay? I’m not
going very far at all.”
She nodded and a frission of anxiety washed over Remington, laced with a healthy dose of fear. He
forced all of it away though in favor of helping Laura breathe past another contraction.
He helped her to the edge of the bed, but before she stood, she reached around to hug him to her. With
him as her only witness, Laura gave in to all her fears and cried in great sobs. “I can’t do this, Rei. It
hurts.”
Hating the feeling of helplessness, he clutched her to him and tried to find the words to soothe her. “Of
course, you can. You’ve gone the better part of the day already. Before long the little tyke with be here,
and it will be over.”
“I’m so scared,” she whispered.
Bugger me, so am I. “You’ll do fine, love,” he told her.
She looked up, eyes wide and alarmed. “No matter what, you won’t go?”
He shook his head, understanding that logic and sensibility had little place in this hospital room. “No. I
won’t go anywhere. I promise.”
With that assurance, she pulled her emotions inside once again and wiped away her tears.
13 November 2009
Chapter Thirty: House of Steele