Character A:

Mary stood at the window showing the newborn babies in the maternity ward, almost in disbelief of the past four years, or at least the past thirty-six hours.  She had just given birth to her son, Jackson, Jr., without any option of painkillers because she was too far along in labor when she got to the hospital to receive any.  If you had asked her back in high school if she would ever get married and have children, she’d probably laugh at you.  Then again, she had a bit of a temper, so she might’ve punched you in the face.  She was always very independent and worked hard, but she was extremely isolated from most people.  Mary was, and still slightly remained, what would be called a misfit.  At only eight years old, somehow she had managed to get a nose ring.  At fifteen, she got a tattoo of the Jolly Roger above her knee and one of a Ramones logo– you know, your average punk.  However, she did manage to get accepted to Princeton.  That’s where she met Jackson Rogers.  His name made Mary think twice about the psychology major.  After a year of dating, they were married, and they had never even met each other’s parents.  The in-laws were happy, and so were all the people involved in their union.  After looking at her eight pound, six ounce boy for about five minutes outside the window, Mary knew she made the right choice when she agreed to become Mrs. Rogers.

Character B:

Jackson Rogers sat in his office, hoping his next appointment wouldn’t be as bad as his last.  As he spun around in his chair, he looked around at all of his diplomas and academic awards.  He stopped moving when his gaze fell upon his Ph. D. from Princeton.  He remembered the day he met his wife, Mary, on his way to his dorm room.  Back in college he was very studious, wrote extra pages to already long reports, helped his professors even though he wasn’t a teacher’s assistant and never went to a fraternity party.  Jackson sighed when he realized that most of his patients were just a little neurotic and had frivolous problems.  Eliza, his much older receptionist, buzzed him, meaning his next patient was in.  Only when Jackson opened his door, there stood Mary holding his son.