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"Please," she begged, "don't leave me!"

"I'm just going over to the phone, Abby," he tried to console her.

Shaking her head in protest, another wave wrapped about Abby and she reeled in pain.

Too frantic to remember the telephone number on her own, Izumi brought the phone to Jake and he called the doctor from the sofa.

"Are you sure?" Jake sighed, still holding the receiver to his ear. "No, the contractions aren't five minutes apart, yet. All right. Thanks, Dr. Chambers." Jake hung up the phone and looked disappointedly at the two women.

"Not time?" asked Izumi.

"No," replied Jake, as Abby took his hand for comfort. "The doctor said to wait until the contractions are closer together. When they continue for an hour, he wants us to come in."

"But, I want to go NOW!" begged Abby.

"Dr. Chambers knows what he's doing," Jake assured her. "Try to breathe, Abby. Just concentrate on breathing."

"I wish those two would hurry up and get home!" cried Izumi, as her daughter struggled to ride out the pain of another contraction.

Jake smiled bravely for Abby, but in his mind, he was busy picturing his wife going into full labor on the living room couch. Even though he felt faint, the thought of her needing him, kept him conscious.

"Please, God," he silently prayed, "don't let her have the baby here!"

Izumi went to the living room window to see if she could spot John or Terry coming home. Then, the triplets began to cry-- all three of them. Running to the nursery to check on her babies, Izumi handed off timing the contractions to Jake.

"Hold on, Abby," whispered Jake, as she cried out in pain. "They're getting closer together."

"Are they five minutes apart?" she whimpered.

"No, not yet," he replied. "Just hang in there."

Izumi returned with a baby on her hip, and went back to the window to watch for the men.

"If they're not back in ten minutes," she announced, "I'm calling Agatha to baby-sit when we go to the hospital."

With a bowed head, Abby leaned against Jake's chest while she tried to steady her breath. Feeling the perspiration on her face soaking through his shirt, Jake tenderly brushed the hair away from her hot neck.

"How much longer, Jake?"

"You're doing fine, Abby," he tried to encourage her.

"Five minutes, yet?"

"No, not yet."

Abby groaned into his shirt while Jake jotted down the time.

"It hurts so much, Jake," she whimpered.

"I read that rocking back and forth might help," he suggested. "Do you want to try?"
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