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Dear JohnChapter 42
I was there. Lana was there. And so were Owen and Abigail and Mortimer. The door swung open and a white clad lady with a stethoscope looped around her neck came smiling up to the soon to be proud poppa. “Doctor?” said Mort. “It’s a boy. Mom and our new young man are doing fine. You’ll be able to go in shortly. The nurses are in charge for next little bit. Everybody was talking at once to everybody else. Well, except Mortimer. He was talking to himself. He was kind of funny I thought. I...