“Portia is fine. They’re getting her settled in her room.” He grinned and handed out blue-banded cigars. “It’s a boy!”
“Congratulations, Nigel.” Father heaved himself out of his chair. “And his name?”
“Quinton.”
Father frowned. Had he expected one of the traditional Sebring names? Nigel was proving to be more of a challenge than Father had anticipated.
“When can we see Portia?” Mother asked, setting aside the magazine.
“The doctor wants her to get some rest, but you should be able to visit her during evening visiting hours.”
“And Quinton?”
Nigel grinned broadly. “He’s in the nursery. Come. I’ll introduce you to your grandson.” 9
The baby was gorgeous. According to Father, it was because he had Sebring blood in his veins, so he expected nothing less. He completely dismissed the fact that Nigel was quite good looking.
The nurses gave us fifteen minutes to admire the newest member of our family and then sent us home.