Emily puts down the book, a grin on her face, and he smiles at her. "Now what?" he says, muting the TV with the remote on his lap. "I keep thinking of names," she says, happily rubbing her rounded stomach.

"I thought we said Alexander or Zoe?" asks Jim, knowing full well she's changed her mind yet again. Benny had four names before they settled on Benjamin James.

"Yeah, I don't know about Zoe. That's a Muppet, and I don't want our daughter having an identity crisis with a little orange puppet. I made a new list," Emily says, reaching onto the end table for her pad of paper.

"I'll stick with Alexander, but for a girl, I love Phoebe!" she says, and Jim's smile fades and his stomach drops.

"Not Phoebe," he says, his mouth a little dry.

"Why not?" asks Emily, looking confused. "You're the one that suggested Phoebe when we were pregnant with Ben, before we decided he'd be Lucy."

Jim's mind races. How can he explain that he can't hear that name, that they might as well name their future daughter Pamela for all the weight it held in his mind? How can he tell her that it's been 541 days since he saw- no, more than just saw- interacted with a glowingly pregnant Pam at the hospital, and little Phoebe Beesly-Morrison is probably having her first birthday right about now?

He takes too long to answer and something in Emily's smile tightens. "It has to do with her, doesn't it?" she asks, and then shakes her head. "You know what? I don't want to know. Phoebe's off the list. Zoe's fine."

Jim sighs. "Em, it's not a big deal," he starts, and he doesn't know what else to say. They never talk about Pam, it's still taboo, and he knows a part of Emily still hasn't forgiven him for crying out Pam's name at an inopportune time over six years ago and what that had meant. He looks at her and she almost looks pleading, as though she needs reassurance, and that's exactly what he wants for her, because he loves her.

He slides down the couch and wraps his arms around her. "I love you, Emily Anne," he says into her hair, and he can feel her smile into his shirt. She pulls back and looks at him.

"I really do. You and that guy are the most important part of my world," he says, nodding toward the love seat where Ben is sprawled out, Thomas the Tank Engine in one hand and Percy and James in the other, oblivious to the world around him. He's snoring, his diapered bottom sticking up in the air. He's resisting potty-training, and Emily's nervous; she wants him trained before the baby comes because she doesn't want two in diapers.

These staccato thoughts run through Jim's mind as he pulls his wife to his side and turns up the volume on the TV again. He settles back into the couch cushions, thinking that he's got everything he ever wanted.

Almost.