Book <b>2 </b>Overtime
“She’s perfect,” Emma whispered, cradling the newborn in her arms. Six pounds, four ounces of pink perfection, with a dusting of dark hair and what Emma swore were Alek’s blue eyes, though the nurses insisted all babies‘ eyes started blue.
Katie watched from her hospital bed, exhausted but smiling. “She looks like you around the
eyes.”
Emma nced up, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “Thank <i>you </i>seemspletely inadequate.”
“She’s your daughter,” Katie said simply. “I was just the temporary housing.”
Twenty–eight weeks into Emma’s own pregnancy, she sat carefully in the hospital chair, her rounded belly making movement increasingly awkward. Beside her, Alek looked shell–shocked, staring at the infant with wonder.
“Would you like to hold her?” Emma asked him softly.
His hands trembled slightly as he epted the bundle. “She’s so small.”
“All babies are small, darling,” Emma teased gently. “That’s rather the point.”
The journey to this moment had been unexpected andplicated. When Katie had experiencedplications with her own pregnancy at sixteen weeks–a condition that threatened both her life and her baby’s–emergency intervention had saved Katie but not her pregnancy. The loss had devastated all of them.
Two weekster, Katie had approached them with a surprising proposal: she still wanted to be their surrogate, if they were interested.
“I <i>know </i>it seems strange,” she’d exined, “wanting to be pregnant again so soon after a loss. But carrying your baby would help heal my heart whilepleting your family. If you still want me to.”
The decision hadn’t been easy. Emma’s own pregnancy was progressing well despite the high–risk designation<i>, </i>but Dr. Winters had been honest about potentialte–termplications. Having Katie proceed with surrogacy provided both a backup n and the family expansion they’d originally envisioned.
Nine monthster, Charlotte Natalia Mitchell–Volkov had arrived three weeks early but perfectly healthy.
“Have you told your grandfather yet?” Katie asked, adjusting her position against the pillows.
< Book 2 Overtime
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“Walter’s bringing him now,” Emma replied. “Nothing could keep him away, doctor’s orders or
not.”
Right on cue, Franklin appeared in the doorway, using his walker rather than the wheelchair- a sign of how important this moment was to him.
“Where’s my great–granddaughter?” he demanded, making his way slowly to Alek’s side.
Alek carefully transferred the baby to Franklin’s arms, supporting them both as the elderly man gazed down at the newborn.
“Charlotte,” Franklin said, testing the name. “A strong name. Regal.”
“We thought so,” Emma agreed, watching three generations of her family together for the first
time.
“Two Mitchell women now,” Franklin observed with satisfaction. “The dynasty grows.”
Emma exchanged smiles with Katie over Franklin’s head. They’d developed a friendship that transcended their unusual arrangement–Katie now family in all but blood.
“How are you feeling?” Emma asked her.
“Tired but good,” Katie replied. “Ready to see my own kids soon. They’re dying to meet Charlotte.”
The unusual extended family they’d created still raised eyebrows among more traditional observers, but Emma had stopped caring about conventional arrangements months ago. What mattered was thework of love surrounding both Charlotte and the baby still growing inside her.
The peaceful moment was interrupted when Franklin suddenly stiffened, his face contorting. The baby let out a startled cry as Franklin’s arms ckened.
“Grandpa?” Emma half–rose from her chair as Alek quickly reimed Charlotte.
“Just… need to sit,” Franklin managed, his color rmingly gray.
Alek hit the nurse call button while helping Franklin to a chair, “Get Dr. Singh on the phone,” he instructed the responding nurse. “Now.”
The next hour passed in controlled chaos. Franklin was wheeled to cardiac care, diagnosed with a minor arrhythmia that his doctors insisted wasn’t immediately life–threatening but required monitoring.
“Go with him,” Katie urged when Emma was torn between her grandfather and the newborn.
:
< Book 2 Overtime
“Charlotte and I will be fine. Tim’sing soon anyway.”
Emma hesitated, one hand on her pregnant belly, eyes darting between the baby and the doorway where Franklin had disappeared.
“I’ll stay with Charlotte,” Alek decided. “You check on Franklin.”
im
In cardiac care, Emma found her grandfather already hooked to monitors, looking irritated but less gray. “Ridiculous overreaction,” he grumbled. “A little chest difort and suddenly everyone panics.”
“Chest difort is a serious symptom with your history,” Emma reminded him, taking the chair beside his bed. “You promised you’d tell someone immediately if <i>you </i>experienced any.”
Franklin had the grace to look slightly abashed. “I didn’t want <i>to </i>ruin Charlotte’s wee.”
“You nearly did by copsing while holding her,” Emma pointed out, though her tone softened. “Grandpa, you have to take these symptoms seriously.”
“At my age, every day is a victory,” Franklin said philosophically. “I lived long enough to meet one great–grandchild. Now I just need to hang on for the second.”
The reminder of her own precarious pregnancy sobered Emma. “One day at a time,” she said.
“For both of us.‘
Dr. Singh arrived to examine Franklin, her expression professionally neutral as she checked readings and adjusted medications.
“Well?” Franklin demanded when she finished. “What’s the verdict?”
“You experienced a cardiac event that we need to monitor,” Dr. Singh replied carefully. “Not immediately life–threatening, but concerning given your history.”
“English, please,” Franklin insisted. “Am I dying or not?”
“Not today,” Dr. Singh allowed with the faintest smile. “But you need to remain hospitalized for observation and treatment adjustments.”
Franklin grimaced but nodded. “Fine. But I want regr updates about my great–granddaughter.”
“I think we can arrange that,” Dr. Singh agreed, exchanging knowing nces with Emma.
Later, when Franklin dozed under medication, Emma returned to the maternity ward to find an unexpected tableau: Alek in the visitor’s chair with Charlotte asleep on his chest, while Katie’s children–delivered by Tim for a brief visit–peered curiously at the baby.
< Book 2 Overtime
“Is she our cousin?” Katie’s daughter asked when Emma entered.
im
“Something like that,” Emma replied, easing herself into a chair. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Tired but talking a lot,” the little girl reported seriously. “Daddy says that’s a good sign.”
Emmaughed, feeling the weight of the day’s emotional extremes. Charlotte’s birth, Franklin’s setback, the strange new family configuration they were creating–all of it swirled together in a mixture of joy and concern.
“How’s Franklin?” Alek asked quietly over the children’s heads.
“Stable,” Emma replied. “They’re keeping him for observation.”
Alek nodded, his expression understanding theyers of worry behind her simple answer. “One crisis at a time,” he murmured. “We’ll get through them all.”
Emma reached out to touch Charlotte’s tiny hand, marveling at perfect fingernails smaller than sequins. “She’s worth everyplication.”
“Both of them are,” Alek agreed, his gaze dropping to Emma’s rounded belly where their son continued his own development.
Like overtime in hockey, Emma reflected, life’s most challenging moments often led to unexpected victories. Charlotte’s early arrival, though concerning at first, now seemed providential given Franklin’s health scare–allowing him to meet his great–granddaughter before his own condition deteriorated further.
The game wasn’t over. The final score remained uncertain. But in this moment, despite theplications, they were winning.