Chapter Text
Peggy will always remember the look on Howard’s face when she breaks the news to him. Howard Stark isn’t an easy man to surprise, and even when he is, it never lasts for very long. But his shocked expression lasts for a good three minutes, during which he just stares, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, at Peggy, who stares right back. She’d almost find it hilarious, were the situation not… Well, as it was.
Finally, Howard swallows thickly and addresses her, his voice shaking. “You’re… You’re what?”
She represses a sigh.
“Pregnant, Howard.”
“Are you sure?” he blurts, his expression now full-blown panic, and if that hurts Peggy to see, she doesn’t show it.
“Quite sure,” she says stiffly. “I saw a doctor yesterday. Thought I simply had a bug, but no. Pregnant.”
Howard doesn’t move from his seat; in fact, he seems frozen in place.
“And you’re sure it’s… it’s mine?”
Peggy can feel her eye twitch in irritation. “Yes, Howard! You’re the only man I’ve…” She stops, then takes a deep breath to calm herself. “The only man I’ve been with recently.”
“I…” Howard finally unfreezes, slumping back in his chair, his face dumbfounded. “Holy shit, Peg.”
Peggy shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “My sentiments exactly.”
He looks at her, eyebrows drawn up, and Peggy honestly can’t think of a time when he ever looked so apprehensive.
“What are you… you know, gonna do with it?”
“I beg your pardon?” she asks, eyebrow raised.
“I mean…” Howard runs a hand through his hair. “Look, Peg, that night? That was damn amazing, I’m not going to lie. But we both agreed that it would be a one-time, no strings attached kind of deal.”
“And it was,” she replied, still frowning at him. “What are you getting at?”
“A baby is a pretty big string, Peg!” Howard yells, near hysterical. “I can’t just – I’m not ready to have a family!”
“And you think I am?” Peggy steps forward, planting her palms flat on Howard’s desk, looming over him with a fierce look. “Howard, my job sees my life in danger damn near every week! I can’t add a baby to that!”
“Yeah, well, I run a million-dollar company,” Howard retorts, so unsympathetic she almost wants to hit him. It’s only through years of honing her self-control that she doesn’t. “Not much room for a baby there, either. So.”
She narrows her eyes. “So.”
They stare at each other for what feels like an hour, neither wanting to yield to the other. But, as always, Howard is the first to break. He looks away and groans, rubbing a hand down his handsome countenance.
“You gonna keep it?” he asks wearily, not bothering to look her in the eyes.
Peggy straightens her back. “… I wasn’t planning on it,” she answers evenly. “I was thinking of putting it up for adoption.”
Howard takes a second, then nods, the tension in his shoulders melting. “Sounds good. Don’t really see why you needed to come all this way if you already made up your mind.”
She stiffens again, feeling rage bubble up inside her. “I thought you had the right to now, considering it’s your child too.”
He gives her a dry look, and god, she feels her self-control slowly slipping. “Look, Peg: you know me. Better than most people. Better than Jarvis, probably. You know how I feel about kids. Yeah, they’re cute to look at, but they tie you down. I cannot afford to be tied down. And neither can you.”
Peggy takes a deep breath. She knows he’s right; they’ve had this conversation before. Neither of them could really picture themselves settling down, starting a family. Peggy had had that dream once, briefly, before it went spiraling down into the Arctic, but she was sure Howard had never given it a second thought. They were both busy people with dangerous lives – hers more so than his, but still. A baby would… complicate things. More than the act of sleeping with each other already had.
“I know, Howard,” she conceded. “But I still thought I should tell you, lest you wonder why I’m growing consecutively bigger for the next nine months.”
He rolls his shoulders. “Well. Now I know. And I’ll be sure to be extra sensitive about it.”
Peggy rolls her eyes. “You arse.”
She leaves his office shortly after that, since there’s nothing more either of them want to talk about. As soon as Jarvis (blessedly ignorant Jarvis) brings her car around, and she is seated safely within its confines, she rubs a hand down her stomach. She sits there for a few minutes, before she shakes her head and begins to drive.
Jarvis doesn’t stay ignorant for long. Though, to be fair, it was really Ana who pointed it out.
Peggy has tea with the Jarvises semi-regularly; that is, when her work would allow it. It’s during one of these teas that Ana points out how pale Peggy’s become, and how suddenly tight her dress is. She doesn’t do so maliciously – Ana Jarvis doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body, Peggy’s sure – but rather, with a knowing look in her eye.
Peggy just sighs and puts down her cup. “It’s Howard’s.”
“I figured,” Ana nods.
Jarvis looks between his wife and best friend curiously, if also somewhat concerned. “What’s Howard’s? Miss Carter, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Jarvis, just…” She struggles to say it. She’d meant to tell them sooner, but work… Well, it was a combination of work and her own anxiety that prevented her from confessing all.
Luckily, Ana is with her now.
“Pregnant,” the redhead supplies helpfully.
The word hangs in the air for a few moments, and both women watch as Jarvis’s eyes grow bigger and wider.
“I… O-Oh my goodness,” he says finally. “I suppose some congratulations are in order…?”
“They’re appreciated, but unnecessary,” sighs Peggy. “I’m going to give the baby up.”
“What?” Ana’s eyes are round. “Peggy, why?”
“Ana, I can’t possibly raise a child with my work! And Howard’s made it clear that he wants nothing to do with anything resembling ‘family life’. It’s for the best,” says Peggy. She takes a quick sip of her tea, hating how Ana’s eyes are still searching her face, like the redhead knows something she doesn’t.
It’s Jarvis who speaks next, however, not his wife. He looks as uncomfortable as Peggy would expect.
“It’s your decision, Miss Carter…”
Peggy sighs. “But you two don’t approve.”
“It doesn’t matter,” says Ana, stiff as a board. “Like Edwin says, it’s your decision, not ours.”
Peggy hates that closed-off, guarded expression on Ana’s face. So she blurts, “I just don’t know what else I’m meant to do!”
The Jarvises regard her curiously.
“Miss Carter?” asks Jarvis.
She takes a deep breath to collect herself. “The Peggy Carter that wanted… a family died at the end of the war. Or, I thought she did. I thought maybe she’d come back, briefly, back when Daniel…” She blinks, hard. There is no ill will between her and Daniel. What they had was barely a connection, before he got sent off to L.A. and met Violet. Peggy wished him all the best, but sometimes she did wonder…
Ana’s hand is suddenly on hers, interrupting her train of thought. The redhead stares at her imploringly, begging her to go on.
So she does. “Anyway… I was just… feeling lonely, and frustrated, and then Howard made a pass like he always does. Except this time, I took him up on it. Then, a month later, I’m vomiting into my toilet bowl and Angie thinks I’ve caught the flu. Only, surprise, it’s not the flu, it’s a baby!” She barks out a laugh.
The Jarvises exchange a glance, worry clear in their expressions.
“And the worst part,” Peggy goes on, ignoring it, “is that for one, pitiful moment… I was happy.”
She can feel tears gathering in her eyes, so she quickly wipes at them with her free hand; Ana is still holding onto her other, only now the redhead looks heartbroken.
“Oh, Peggy…”
She spares Ana a tiny smile. “It wasn’t how I imagined it. Not even close. But, despite all that, I had the inane hope that maybe I could keep it. Maybe Howard would want the baby too, and we’d raise it together. Not, together, in the most literal sense, but…” Peggy shook her head. “It was a ridiculous thought.”
“No, Peggy.” Ana squeezes her hand. “It’s not ridiculous at all.”
Peggy smiles at her again, bigger this time, though her eyes are still brimming with tears that she steadfastly refuses to let fall. She rests her other hand on top of Ana’s.
Across the table, Jarvis speaks up.
“Miss Carter?”
“Yes, Mr. Jarvis?”
“If you could keep the child, would you?”
Peggy blinks at the question. “I… I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t see how I could. I don’t want to give up my job to raise a baby, and if I don’t, how is that fair to the child? To have a mother who constantly runs off and gets shot at, with no guarantee that she’ll come home?”
Jarvis nods thoughtfully. “But… say you gave the baby to a couple you trusted. That way, no matter what happens to you, you know the baby will be cared for. So, you can keep the child and ensure its future.”
Peggy and Ana share identical looks of confusion.
“Mr. Jarvis, what are you getting at?” asks Peggy.
“Yes, Edwin, what - … Oh.” Ana’s eyes go wide again as she stares at her husband with shock.
Peggy looks at her. “What?”
“You want us to raise the child,” Ana breathes. Jarvis sends her a soft smile, and Peggy looks on, stunned.
“It seems like a perfectly logical solution to me,” he murmurs. “Miss Carter can keep her job and watch her child grow up. And we… We would get to have a family, Ana.”
Ana lets go of Peggy’s hand, only to latch onto Jarvis’s. But Ana does look back at Peggy, hope swimming in her expression.
“Peggy, would you…?”
Peggy startles. “I… Would Howard let you?”
“No offense to my employer,” sniffs Jarvis, “but even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t care. Besides, he’s told us time and time again that adoption is a perfectly viable option.”
Despite her glistening eyes, Peggy laughs. “I don’t think he had this scenario in mind when he suggested that.”
Jarvis chuckles, too, and Ana is smiling, but she still watches Peggy, like she’s awaiting her answer. Peggy gives her eyes another wipe and breathes in deeply, exhaling a moment later.
“… It does seem logical,” she admits, beaming when Ana lets out a beatific cheer.
They’ve got everything all set up – Peggy will take a year’s sabbatical from work to carry the baby to term. Then she’ll give it to Ana and Jarvis, who will raise it as their own. They’ve decided that it’s better that way, for the baby to not know who Peggy really is. Instead, she’ll be dear old ‘Aunt Peggy’, its godmother.
Even Howard didn’t put up much of a protest when Jarvis told him their intentions. True, he seemed vastly uncomfortable with the idea, but even the most selfish man couldn’t deny the earnest eyes of Ana Jarvis. He gave his consent easily enough.
And no one at the S.S.R. gave much thought to Peggy’s leave of absence. Except for Jack, surprisingly; he seemed surprised that a ‘workaholic like Marge’ would even take a week off, let alone a year. Peggy teased that he wasn’t going to be able to manage the place without her, and after that, he scoffed and told her to go. So, that was resolved.
All that was left was Angie, and Peggy couldn’t lie to her roommate of many years. She told her the whole story, and all Angie did was request to be the honorary godmother. The Jarvises agreed easily to that, and from then on, Angie and Ana were a tag team of terrors when it came to looking after Peggy.
She was six months along when they brought up the topic of names.
“I always wanted a girl,” sighs Ana as she folds the laundry.
She, Peggy, and Angie are at Peggy and Angie’s place in New York – the one Howard himself provided – and the redhead insisted on doing the chores. Peggy tried to protest, but she was secretly glad for it, as it was becoming harder to move around as freely as she normally liked. Angie, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and even jokingly asked Ana to move in with them.
“A girl would be nice,” adds Angie, from where she sits next to Peggy, a plate of Ana’s homemade cookies in hand. “Maybe you could name her after me?” she grins.
Peggy rolls her eyes. “One Angie is enough, I think.”
Ana chuckles. “I liked the name Natasha. It was the name of one of my aunts from Hungary.”
“Natasha’s nice,” acquiesces Angie, taking a bite out of another cookie. “What about her nickname? Nat? Tasha?”
“We don’t know if it’ll be a girl,” reminds Peggy. She runs a hand over her enlarged belly. Sometimes, the baby kicks up a storm, but for now, it’s quiet.
Angie swallows the cookie and pauses. “Okay, so what about a boy’s name?”
“Anthony,” Ana answers immediately. “After Edwin’s grandfather.”
“I had a cousin named Anthony,” says Angie. “We always called him Tony, though. What do you think, English?”
“Anthony’s fine,” she replies, hesitating. “Just…”
“What is it?” asks Ana.
“Well… If I ever had a boy, I always told myself I’d name him after my brother. Michael.”
“Michael’s a good name, too,” says Angie.
“It’s going to be Ana and Jarvis’s baby, Angie, they should pick its name.”
“Why not both?” suggests Ana. “Anthony Michael Jarvis. And we can call him Tony for short,” she adds, winking at Angie.
The blonde toasts a cookie in her direction.
“That’s a good name. Sounds like future President of the United States material to me.”
Peggy laughs. “Indeed. President Tony Jarvis.”
“Oh, I can already see Edwin crying at his inauguration,” bemoans Ana, and she and Angie quickly dissolve into a fit of giggles. Peggy laughs, too, but at the back of her mind, she can’t help but imagine…
Anthony Michael Carter.
She tries desperately to ignore how right it feels.
She’s just entering her ninth month when there’s a furious pounding at her door.
At first, she thinks it’s Angie, who just left for an audition half an hour ago. She might have forgotten her keys, or maybe the audition went very poorly. Ana and Jarvis are both busy with work, and Howard has been avoiding Peggy for the entire duration of her pregnancy, so she can’t fathom who else it might be.
Of course, when she opens the door and pokes her head out, she’s very much surprised to see Jack Thompson on the other side.
“Jack!” she exclaims, caught off-guard. Luckily, most of her body is hidden by the door, so all Jack can see is her messy bedhead and makeup-less face.
The man is dressed like he’s just come from work, and since it’s barely two in the afternoon, he’s likely still on duty. Which makes his appearance at Peggy’s front door even more puzzling. There’s a file in his hand, she notes absently.
“Marge,” he greets, grinning when she instinctively scowls at the nickname. “Mind if I come in? I need you to take a look at something.”
“The great Jack Thompson, needing my help?” Peggy asks dubiously, tamping down on the surge of panic she feels rising within her. “Color me surprised.”
“Very funny, Carter. I wouldn’t be here unless it was absolutely necessary. So, you know, let me in and we can get this done faster.”
He takes a step forward, and Peggy shrinks behind the door.
“I’m not decent!” she shouts, immediately burning red at the horrible excuse. True, she’s in only a nightgown, but that’s hardly the sort of thing to rattle Jack Thompson.
Jack just raises an eyebrow. “Then throw on a robe or something. I haven’t got all day, Marge.”
“I’ve also got a headache,” she says quietly, but she already knows Jack doesn’t buy it.
The blond groans. “Seriously, Carter, just let me in.”
“Seriously, Jack, now’s not a good time.”
“Oh, well.” Jack takes on the sardonic expression she’s come to know well during her years of working with him. “I’ll be sure to tell that to the Russian terrorist that’s been leaving coded threats all over the city. ‘Sorry, sir, but we’re putting off the investigation until it’s convenient to our resident codebreaker.’”
“The S.S.R. has several agents capable of deciphering codes,” argues Peggy.
“None of them are as good as you,” replies Jack, so matter-of-factly that it makes Peggy pause.
“Was that a compliment?”
“Oh, for the love of…”
Without warning, Jack barrels forward and pushes past the door, making Peggy stumble back just enough to let him charge inside. She lets out a shout of protest, and he turns to address it, but his eyes fall upon her swollen figure and whatever he’s about to say dries up in his throat.
Several moments of silence stretch between them. Finally, Jack raises a shaking finger and points at her.
“You’re pregnant,” he says dumbly.
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” hisses Peggy. She slams the door shut and storms into the living room. Jack follows her, his expression still shell-shocked.
“Pregnant, Carter!”
“Yes, Jack, I’m pregnant!” she shouts back. “Are you going to keep pointing that out, or can we move on?”
“No, we are not moving on!” He seems to regain his composure, though now he looks angry. “Why didn’t you just say so? The S.S.R. offers maternity leave!”
“I didn’t want anyone asking questions,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “It’s a complicated situation.”
Jack stares at her, long enough that she starts to fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.
“It’s Stark’s,” he says at last.
Peggy groans. “How in the bloody hell - ?”
“Sousa and Dr. Wilkes are still in L.A., and that Jarvis fella doesn’t strike me as the cheating type. Of all the men in your life, that leaves me and Stark. And I’m pretty damn sure I haven’t slept with you.”
Peggy gives him a half-hearted glare, then sighs and collapses onto a nearby sofa.
“Oh, fine. The long and short of it is this: it was a one-time thing, Howard doesn’t want to keep the baby, so the Jarvises are going to adopt it. Got it? Because I’m not repeating myself to you.”
Jack sinks into the chair next to the sofa. He still looks angry, but not as much as before.
“… Okay.”
“Okay?” Peggy quirks an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“It’s your business, Marge,” he says. “I’m still unbelievably annoyed that you didn’t just tell me the truth, but there’s not much I can do about it now. So. Yeah, okay.”
She stares at him, and he merely hands over the file he’s been carrying.
“Now, unless being pregnant has somehow hindered your codebreaking abilities, I still need your help with this,” is all he says.
Peggy quietly takes the file from him, still eyeing him warily. Then, after a moment, she sighs, smiling tiredly.
“I can never quite figure you out, Jack.”
“And I take immense pride in that, believe me.”
The next half an hour is spent with Peggy poring over the codes. The Russian terrorist is smart enough to use an outdated system of codes that takes even her a while to break, but soon enough, she’d cracked it, and she’s transcribing a translation for Jack to take back to the office. All the while, Jack has remained quietly in his seat. She knows he’s still staring at her stomach, but she can’t really feel it within herself to call him out on it, so she lets him be.
Suddenly, she gasps, squeezing her eyes shut. Jack startles in alarm, and moves to sit beside her.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Fine, fine,” she grits out, eyes still shut. “Just contractions.”
Jack looks dubious at best. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital, then?”
“Not until they’re at least seven minutes apart. Which they’re not, yet.”
The pain subsides and she exhales, cursing softly. It’s then that she notices Jack’s hands, which are hovering protectively around her, one by her knee, the other behind her back. She sends Jack a weary smile.
“I’m fine, Jack. Really. It’s all very natural.”
Jack huffs, but lowers his hands. “Nothing about you being pregnant is natural.”
She shakes her head at him and continues working on the code.
Soon enough, she gets the last word down, and hands the paper, along with the file, back to Jack.
“There. The supposed bombing will take place at National Bank, next month. I trust you already have a team trying to track this man down?”
“Yeah,” answers Jack, who scans his eyes over the paper. “Fletcher, Ramirez, and Isaacs.”
Peggy nods; they’re good men for the job. “Tell them to keep an eye on diners or other such restaurants near National Bank. That’s typically where would-be bombers like to stake out their targets.”
“I’ll let them know. Thanks, Carter.”
They walk back to the front door, but before she can open it for him, she hesitates.
“Jack?” she asks, turning back to look at him.
He tilts his head to the side. “Yeah?”
“You won’t, um…” She bites her lip. “Mention my… condition, to anyone, will you?”
Jack rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his amused smile. “Secret’s safe with me, Marge.”
Peggy smiles, too. “Stop calling me that.”
“Not a chance.”
Relieved, she turns back to the door, when another contraction hits her. She curses and leans against the door just as Jack reaches out to steady her. His hands are warm on her arms, not that she’s noticing much of anything outside of the pain.
“Jesus, Carter!” breathes Jack. “I think that was less than seven minutes.”
Peggy just groans in response. “Oh, bloody Nora… Jack?”
“What is it?”
She glances down at the floor, where a puddle has amassed under her legs. “I think my water just broke.”
Jack’s eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. “Now?!”
“Yes, now!” she barks.
“Right, okay - !” Jack grabs her coat from the hooks next to the door and drapes it around her shoulders. “Hospital, now!”
Peggy doesn’t bother to fight as he opens the door and maneuvers her outside. She’s mostly busy trying to block out the pain from the contractions, so it barely registers to her that Jack has ushered her into his car and is speeding down the roads to the nearest hospital.
She does recall making it to the hospital, where a nurse takes one look at her and quickly escorts her to a delivery room. She loses track of Jack after that, but all she can remember is the doctor running in to take care of her.
Peggy drifts fully into consciousness hours later, when someone gently shakes her shoulder. She turns, forcing her bleary eyes to focus, and sees Angie smiling brightly down at her.
“Hey, English,” she chirps softly. “How’re ya feeling?”
“Exhausted,” she replies weakly. “What happened?”
“The miracle of birth, English. The doctor just took him away to do the check-up. He’ll be back any minute now.”
“He?” Peggy repeats.
Angie beams even wider. “Yup. Healthy baby boy.”
Something light wells up within Peggy, and she grins back at her roommate. “A boy…”
Angie pats her shoulder. “Ana and J are filling out the paperwork. And Blondie had to go back to work, but he told me to tell you to take it easy for a while.”
“Blondie?”
“You know, that fella you work with? Calls his grandmother Gam-Gam?”
Peggy blinks. “Jack?”
Angie snaps her fingers. “That’s the one. Apparently, the staff thought he was your husband. You shoulda seen the dirty looks they were giving him when he had to leave; they thought he was abandoning you in your time of need!”
She laughs at the mere memory of it, but Peggy has barely enough strength to muster up a weak chuckle. She’d apologize to Jack later, as well as thank him for all the trouble he’d gone through.
The door opens then, and the doctor steps through, a blue bundle in his arms. He smiles when he sees Peggy fully awake, and Peggy’s breath catches in her throat as she spots the bundle.
“Miss Carter,” he says warmly. “I believe this handsome young man belongs to you.”
He walks over to the bed, and Angie steps aside to let him lean over Peggy. He deposits the bundle in her arms carefully, and Peggy, with a bewildered stare, allows herself to take it.
A small, reddish face peers back at her. Her son’s face is pudgy and soft, with a tuft of dark hair curling over his forehead. And it hits her.
Her son.
“Oh…” she gasps softly. The doctor chuckles and leaves her to admire her newborn. Angie reclaims her spot beside the bed and coos.
“Aw, English, he’s got your nose!”
“Don’t be absurd,” she chides, but her tone is far from reproachful. The boy wiggles slightly in his bundle, and he opens his mouth to let out a tiny gurgle. Peggy’s heart melts.
Ana and Jarvis enter the room shortly after that. Ana buzzes over to the other side of Peggy and joins Angie in cooing over the baby, while Jarvis watches fondly from the foot of the bed.
“How are you feeling, Miss Carter?” he asks.
“Tired, but… happy,” she answers honestly. She looks back down at her child and smiles as he twitches his nose. “He’s so small,” she whispers.
“Six and half pounds,” says Ana. “Or so it says on his certificate.”
“Ah, which reminds me…” Jarvis holds up his hands, which are gripping a clipboard and a pen. On the clipboard is a piece of paper – a birth certificate, Peggy realizes. “It needs your signature.”
Peggy, however reluctantly, lets Ana take the baby as Jarvis hands her the clipboard. Over the top of the paper, she sees ‘Anthony Michael’ written in the name slot, but there’s no last name after it. Slowly, she drags the pen over the paper to sign her name in the correct slot, and then she hands the board back to Jarvis. She glances at Ana, who is wiggling her finger playfully at Anthony.
She winces, and Jarvis notices. He makes his way over to his wife and puts a hand on her shoulder. Ana pauses, looks up at him, and then over at Peggy. Understanding dawns on her expression, but instead of a pout or look of disappointment, she only smiles and hands the baby back to Peggy.
“We left the last name blank on purpose, you know,” she says, as Peggy reaches up to take Anthony back. “Just in case.”
She stares at the redhead. Then she redirects her gaze to her son. “I don’t…”
“You wanna keep him, don’t you, Peg?” asks Angie.
“I shouldn’t,” Peggy says. “He’d be better off with Ana and Jarvis – he’d…”
“We’ll still be around, of course,” says Jarvis. “You won’t have to do this alone, Miss Carter.”
“But the boy should get to have his real mother,” finishes Ana.
Peggy looks at them all, with their soft smiles and understanding eyes, and feels the resolve slowly drain out of her. She laughs, leaning her head back against her pillows, and clutches Anthony tighter.
“When did you start thinking that I’d want to keep him?” she asks.
“We always planned for it,” answers Ana. “We wanted you to make the decision when you knew what it felt like to hold your son in your arms.”
Peggy feels like crying. “Ana, I’m sorry. I know you wanted…”
Ana stops her apology with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. We will still help you raise him. It’ll be like being a mother, but with a lot more hands.”
“If you’ll have us,” adds Jarvis.
“And me,” says Angie, innocuously raising a hand.
“I don’t think I could do this without you all,” grins Peggy, and she lets the tears slip down her cheeks. She looks back down at Anthony, who has finally opened his eyes. They’re a dark bluish-brown, for now.
She lifts a finger and strokes gently down Anthony’s cheek.
“Hello, darling,” she murmurs. “I’m your mother.”
Peggy lifts her head and holds her baby up a bit higher, so he can see the trio crowded around them.
“And this is your family.”