SOLOMON'S WISDOM
BY
PAT GONZALES
(LOS ANGELES, WINTER 2014)

The wail of the newborn filled the delivery room. The obstetrician supported the infant's head and shoulders as she waited for the rest of the body to leave the womb. "One more push..."

A groan, and the baby slid out into the doctor's sure grasp. The attending nurses and interns laughed as she handed off the squirming child. "It's a boy!" the head nurse announced.

The husband leaned down to his wife. "It's a boy," he told her quietly, squeezing the limp hand in his grasp.

"Oh dear," groaned Katherine Laura Steele Michaels.

* * *

Five minutes or more must have passed before Tom Michaels realized both new grandmothers were staring at him as he leaned against the wall in the waiting room. "What?" he demanded curiously.

Both women smiled, looked at each other and giggled. "He does, doesn't he?" Laura Holt remarked.

"He sure does," Sherry Michaels agreed.

"I do what?" Tom persisted, annoyed.

"Look like your father," the women chorused.

He smiled. "You think so?"

"All you need is a plaid shirt," his mother-in-law said.

He looked down at his top, visible beneath the open brown-leather Weatherby strap jacket. "I'll keep to my polos, thanks."

His glance strayed to the work station, where the head nurse was to return after checking on the status of his wife and son. With the tip of his sneaker he nudged the shopping bag of gifts at his feet. They already had a closet full of clothes and toys, thanks to disgustingly eager relatives and pseudo-relatives. He was tempted to toss these birthday gifts, but they had been passed on to him from people very special to Kate... her childhood "nanny" Margaret Parks, and her brother Brian.

Other gifts were piled on the bench... yet another round of baby things from the four delirious grandparents. No matter how many times he and Kate had put their foot down, their parents showered them with all sorts of "necessities" for bringing up baby. He dreaded the future, facing continued battles with spoiling grandpas and cuddling, marshmallow-willed grandmas. He'd much rather deal with grandparents who stayed true to their pre-pregnancy type.

"He has my hair."

"He's got my chin."

"Let's hope he doesn't have your nose."

"What's wrong with my nose?"

"It's crooked."

"It was broken. The Michaels nose is really pretty nice. You should know that. Cait's married to Andy. His nose is nice. So is Lee's and Skip's, and practically everyone else in the family. It's a family trait."

"Then let's hope he bloody well doesn't have it."

Remington Steele and Murphy Michaels entered the waiting area from their foray to the newborn display window.

"Did you see him?" Sherry inquired.

"Yes," both men answered at once.

"He's handsome!" exclaimed Steele.

"Quietest baby in the nursery," Murphy declared.

"Must take after me," Sherry said. "I was a quiet baby, my mother used to say."

"I'd much rather have her genes in him than yours," Steele shot out.

"You know all that dark hair will fall out and be blond," Murphy returned. "Just like mine."

Laura rose. "Look, you two..."

"Aunt Laura."

Tom's authoritative tone shut everyone up. They all turned to him.

"All of you," he continued. "The baby is Kate's and mine. He looks like us. Now, if you don't watch your one-upmanship, there will... will... be serious curtailing of babysitting rights. Do you get that?"

Laura smiled proudly. Steele and Murphy were, amazingly enough, cowed.

"Good." He was about to begin setting down the grandparents' ground rules when the nurse approached.

"Tom Michaels?"

"Yes?"

"Kate's just about to give your baby his lunchtime feeding. She'd like you to be there, if you would."

"Sure."

"Everyone else," the woman looked past him at the group, "will have to wait a while."

He shrugged at the two sets of disappointed parents, hoisted the bag of gifts, and followed the woman down the hall. As they turned a corner and neared Kate's room, she waved him on. "You go in. I'll get the little one."

The nurse left him. He shifted the shopping bag and timidly cracked the door to peer in. His Kate was sitting up in bed, a magazine in her lap. She was wearing the lavender satin bedjacket that her own mother had donned for births two decades earlier, over the pale lavender nightgown he'd given her on her birthday last year... the one that had a half dozen playful ribbon ties to stimulate bedroom playtime.

She looked up, noticed him through the narrow opening and smiled. The magazine was set aside. "Come on in." Her smile set off a sudden radiance in her face, framed delicately by the pageboy curves of her glossy dark hair. Once again, he was entranced.

He slid into the room and hovered at the foot of the bed until she beckoned him closer. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, glowing. Sparks like glitter dust seemed to flicker around her. "Oh, Tom... we have a son!" she exclaimed joyfully.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and gathered her hands in his. "I know."

"He's the most beautiful baby in the whole world!"

"That's because he has the most beautiful mother in the world," he replied.

"No." She brought his hands to her lips and kissed them. "He has the handsomest father in the world."

"I'll bet your father would agree with me," he teased.

"No doubt."

Kate stared at his face searchingly. Finally she whispered, "Thomas Alexander, I love you."

"Katherine Laura, I love you."

They kissed. She threw her arms around him and they kept on kissing. Only when the nurse's "Excuse me!" registered with him did he break away. The woman stood at the doorway, pushing a clear plastic bassinet on wheels. Inside was a blanketed bundle that squirmed and made a peculiar, insistent wail. "Little one doesn't like to be kept waiting," she added.

Tom moved back out of the way. As the nurse wheeled the baby forward, Kate undid the ribbons that held the front of the nightgown together and pushed aside the cloth covering her right breast. Suddenly he realized why she'd chosen that nightgown to wear.

She reached into the little bed and gently took the infant into her arms. "Young man," Kate cooed, "you just had breakfast! Are you hungry again?" Her fingers burrowed into the shrouding blanket as she brought the child to her breast to nurse.

Tom felt acutely uncomfortable standing uselessly at the foot of the bed, as Kate's full attention was on their son. Finally she looked up. Her eyes showed surprise. "What are you doing down there? Don't you want to see him?"

"Sure..."

She grinned. "Get over here!" She gestured with her finger to the spot he had occupied beside her on the bed. Obediently he came back. She pulled the covers away from the baby's head and shoulder. All Tom could see was a thatch of dark hair and a tiny fist.

"He'll hold onto your finger," she suggested.

Tentatively Tom reached over and stroked the soft skin of the tiny hand with a fingertip. The fist opened, clenched, opened again. He curled his finger around to touch the palm and the infant fingers clutched the larger one. A thrill like an electric shock ran through his body.

"That's your daddy," Kate told the baby. "Say hi." She peered up at Tom through her fringe of dark lashes. "He's a little busy right now, Daddy."

"That's all right. I'm sure we'll have lots of time to talk."

"Years and years, certainly."

They fell silent. Tom was content to watch the proceedings and let the infant hold onto his finger. Kate couldn't keep from touching the baby... his cheek, his chest, his forearm, the fine black hair on his head... like it was hard to believe he was really there. Kate herself was more beautiful than Tom had ever seen her, exuding an aura of restful joy, and he cursed himself now for his reservations about having a baby. She'll be a terrific mother.

Suddenly her gentle smile turned into a painful frown. "Oh, Tom." She looked up, her blue eyes glistening. "What're we going to do about a name?"

He didn't have an answer, but he did share her anguish. He took his finger from the baby's grasp, grabbed her free hand and squeezed. The dilemma had sat on their shoulders for seven months, ever since the confirmation of Kate's pregnancy had been announced to the prospective grandparents. Both grandfathers expected the future parents to choose their name for the child if it were a boy; both expressed horror at the thought of having the other's name used instead. Kate had wanted to name a boy after her father, but she knew that it would hurt Murphy Michaels, who had been not only a godparent but her detective mentor, and as beloved as a favorite uncle. In Remington Steele's eyes, his daughter marrying a Michaels... particularly Tom... had been an act of almost heinous defiance, and only his great love for Kate and his genuine friendship with Tom's father had kept him tolerably cordial. If Kate decided to name the baby "Murphy" or "Thomas" there'd be hell to pay.

There was no ducking the issue now, like they'd done for months. The first grandchild was a boy. He and Kate had to come up with a name. And soon.

Tom smiled his warmest, most loving smile. "We'll figure something out before we have to sign the papers."

Kate was not comforted. "It's a no-win situation, Tom. Someone's bound to be hurt."

"Kate..." he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, "it's our choice, not theirs. They'll have to live with whatever we decide."

"I know," she whispered.

The spark had gone out of her. For all the life she showed, she could have been a statue sitting there. Tom frowned, and tried to shift to happier subjects. "Maggie and Brian sent gifts. And I, ah, brought you a friend to keep you company."

He retrieved the shopping bag from the foot of the bed and pulled out a bedraggled bunny as big as the newborn. Once the stuffed animal had been fat, fluffy and pink; now it was merely chubby, matted and gray. He held it in one hand and waggled it. The bunny's ears flopped.

Kate stared, mouth open. Suddenly tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "You brought Belly Bunny!" She reached for it. Carefully, above the nursing baby, Tom allowed her to kiss him. With a smile he relinquished his hold on the bunny. She cuddled it close, then pressed it to the infant. "Young man, this is the bunny your Grandmother Sherry gave me when I was as little as you."

"Did you know that Mom let me pick it out?" Tom asked.

Kate's head came up. "No!"

"Yeah. And I was so jealous she had to get me one too. My orange one turned into shreds before I was six."

"I took good care of my buddy."

He knew that well. His father-in-law had proudly showed him "the baby's room" in the Steele mansion some weeks back... with shelves and shelves of Kate's legendary stuffed animal menagerie, waiting for the next generation. "I'm sure Junior there will be good to her too."

"He'd better. You hear that, young man? You be good to my friends." Kate tucked the bunny under the covers and attended to the baby, who'd had his fill.

Tom took the other two boxes out of the bag. "Do you want me to open these for you?"

"No, give me a minute and I'll get them, if you'll hold your son." She brought her knees up and settled the infant against her thighs as she retied the gown.

"Me?" he asked nervously in a falsetto squeak.

"Yeah, Thomas Alexander, you. You helped make him, you're going to help care for him. Here." She scooped the baby up and held him out to Tom like so much laundry to be folded.

Even though Kate had had quite a bit of experience with babies, being favored sitter for Maggie and Fred Parks' brood as she was growing up, her casual attitude with their child made him nervous. "Kate! For God's sake!" He hurriedly took the baby in his arms. There was little cause for concern; the infant was asleep, having had his most urgent needs taken care of. Tom studied his face. He couldn't quite tell who the boy favored; he wondered how Steele and his father could make such judgements... and from a distance, yet.

At the sound of ripping paper, he looked up. Kate had snatched the larger box and was opening it. From underneath tissue paper she drew out a white knitted square. "Ohhh! Tom... Maggie made me a blanket!" she breathed. She ran a hand down the pattern. "Aran knit. It had to have taken her months and months!"

"She's expecting to be repaid, you know." When Kate looked at him oddly, he went on, "Joint custody of Junior here."

Kate laughed and he laughed with her. It had been a foregone conclusion, from the announcement of the pregnancy, that Maggie would be nanny/companion to the next generation of Steele babies.

"Well," Kate began as she folded the blanket back up, "we'll save this one for the homecoming."

As Kate set about opening the other, smaller package from her brother Brian, Tom found himself touching the baby much as Kate had before. At the press of his finger on the tiny hand, it reached out like before. Once again, he slid his finger against the tiny palm. The baby reflexively grabbed.

Kate's soft cry pulled his attention back to her. She held a small velvet box in her hand. Wordlessly she handed it to him. He looked down at a small flower pin, completely made of gems: a small topaz at the center, five tiny diamonds, and five blue gemstones... royal lavulite... that curved to form petals.

She had opened the card and was reading it. "Oh, yeah?" she commented, then looked up at Tom. "Brian got a 'deal' on it, he says, from Dad's friend Willie." She turned back to the card. "I'll bet..."

Suddenly she gasped. She grinned. "Oh, oh, oh! Yes, Brian, Yes!" She flipped the card closed and handed it to Tom. "Brian just took care of naming our young man."

Tom set the pin down and took the card. It figured that a guy who was going to be a lawyer would come up with a compromise. "What did he suggest? Brian Daniel the second? Though that's not bad..." He skimmed the card, and smiled. "Hmmm. I like it."

"So do I."

He could tell she did. Whenever she was happy, her eyes glowed like blue flames, and they were a stoked-up mountain cabin fire right now.

The nurse interrupted their communion of feelings. "How're we doing? I've got a couple of new grandpas out here fit to strangle me."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Let them come." She reached out for the baby. "Better let me have him. Dad would rather see me holding his grandson than you, I think."

"That's for certain."

She fussed with the blankets once the infant was in her arms. "Should we tell..."

"No. Let them stew. There'll be time enough when you leave the hospital."

"But..."

He stopped her protest with a kiss. They were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. Sharing a smile of resignation, they turned to the grandparental deluge.

* * *

The Tom Michaels family had only a few minutes' respite between the last round of advice from the obstetrician in the elevator and the first round from the waiting Steeles, Michaels and Parks awaiting them by the Steele agency limo at the curb. The orderly stopped the wheelchair at a healthy distance from the watching knot of greeters, and Tom helped Kate to her feet. With one hand at the small of her back and the other on her suitcase, he guided her forward.

Brian Steele was the first to move, coming to take the suitcase from Tom's hand. "Hi, KL," he greeted his sister with his pet name for her. "Nice pin you're wearing."

"I sure hope it's not hot, BD."

"Me? Buy at a hot pin?" He grinned guilelessly. "It's on the up and up, KL, really truly."

"Good. I'd hate to see your godson's mom go to jail for accepting stolen merchandise."

"Godson?" Brian's eyes lit with surprise as he looked from his sister to his brother-in-law.

"Would you?" Tom asked.

"Hell, yes!"

They approached the three waiting couples. Maggie and Fred Parks hung back a little, to let the grandparents make their moves; they'd get plenty of time in the limo with he and Kate, Tom knew. The grandparents.... all four... vibrated with anticipation, and, on Steele's part, some belligerence. "Well?" he asked brusquely.

"Well, what, Dad?" Kate returned.

"What did you name him? You said you'd tell us when you left the hospital."

Wordlessly Tom took an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Steele. The older man eyed Tom warily as he lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out the birth certificate inside. Murphy Michaels was at his side as he unfolded the paper, and both read the contents with blank faces. Tom could almost see Kate's nervousness. He rested his hands on her arms; she was as tight as an archer's bowstring.

Steele's brow furrowed; Tom couldn't tell if it was from hurt or confusion. His own father's countenance was carefully even, but he thought he could see the hint of a gentle smile at the corners of the mouth.

"Well, dear?" Laura Holt probed. "What's his name?"

Steele began to fold the certificate back up before he replied stiffly, "Robert. Robert Remington." Carefully he put the piece of paper back into the envelope.

"Robert... after Murphy's father," Sherry murmured in pleased acceptance.

"Robert Remington Michaels," the other grandmother said slowly, as if testing the sound. "I like it."

Steele handed the envelope back to Tom, who replaced it in the jacket pocket. Arms folded over his chest, he studied his daughter, who clung to the baby. Everyone else stood by tensely. Tom cursed Remington Steele the entire length of the other man's six-feet-plus height. Damn you, man, he thought, if you hurt her over this...

"You're not... going to call him... 'Bobby,' are you?" Steele asked tentatively.

Kate immediately unwound under Tom's hands like a popped watch mainspring. He felt the other tensions around them, from the other watchers, subside. "Dad, of course not," she replied.

"Or Bob? With Bob, he'd have to have Murphy's nose."

"There's nothing wrong with my nose," Murphy protested.

"We thought... Rob sounded nice," Kate explained.

"Rob... Rob Michaels..." Steele mulled over the name and nodded. "I like it."

Laura stepped up to Steele and slipped a hand around his arm. "A better choice than I made," she remarked, causing a round of laughter. They all knew about the "manufacture" of Remington Steele.

Sherry was at Kate's elbow. "Can we have a peek at him, Katie?"

Kate smiled. "Why don't you hold him, Aunt Sherry?"

Tom saw the tears in his mother's eyes as she stared at her daughter-in-law and he wondered if Kate realized what kind of honor his mother felt this was. In the blink of an eye, Rob was in Sherry's arms, and Murphy came over to share this special moment with her. "He's so tiny!" she whispered.

"Honey, Tom was this little once," Murphy murmured.

"But it was such a long time ago!" She kissed the baby's forehead. "Such a long time ago..." Murphy's arm went around her.

Watching his parents with the baby, Tom suddenly realized how painful his mother's inability to bear more children had been to both of them. Even the Steeles knew; Laura was watching Sherry with an anguished expression, hugging Steele's arm as it encircled her waist.

Finally Maggie Parks stepped over to coo at the baby. The Steeles followed suit, and in moments, the baby was being passed from arm to arm. Kate joined them, intending to claim the infant but ended up in a series of hugs from the elders, started by her father.

Tom, remaining at a distance, felt Brian's hand on his shoulder. "So how does it feel to be a dad?" the younger man asked.

Tom grinned. "Shaky."

"You feel better about having the kid, now that he's here?"

The younger Steele sibling had been the only one he'd expressed his reservations about parenthood to. "I might not be the best father in the world, but Kate'll be a damn good mother."

"She sure will."

"By the way, how did you figure out 'Robert Remington' as the acceptable compromise?"

Brian folded his arms over his chest in the classic Steele explanatory pose. "Well, Aunt Cait gave me the rundown on the Michael's background," he said, one hand gesturing, "and I kind of brought up the subject of weird boys names at dinner the night Rob was born. Once Dad saw what a little kid would go through being called 'Remy,' he was having second thoughts about having a grandson carrying on the, ah, 'family name.' I think he was just scared Katie would want to name him after you or Uncle Murph."

"'Murphy' is just as bad as 'Remington'," Tom protested, "even if it is a family name. Dad put up with a lot of aggravation too."

"And what about a Tom Junior?"

Tom noticed that Kate had reclaimed the baby, and was in a heated discussion with her father. She turned to look at him, apparently for help, but the plea in her eyes quickly turned into an outpouring of feeling. Every nerve in his body quivered.

As he began to move forward, he told Brian, "Maybe next time."