Sean made a noise in his throat and leaned against the kitchen counter as he watched the scene. Makenzie shifted from foot to foot. Clearly, she was all about bursting with the good news. Emma could barely keep her laughter at bay watching her best friend do an excited jig and she decided to put her out of her misery.
“I’m pregnant, Allison.”
“Oh shit! The trial worked? Was it a false negative?” Not waiting for an answer, Allison lunged out of the chair and jumped on Emma, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. “Who cares how it happened, that’s beyond amazing! No wonder we’re celebrating. Oh God, why didn’t you tell me, Kenzie? I would have at least gotten some flowers or balloons or…something…”
“There’s something else,” Emma blurted out as her best friend squeezed her chest so hard she thought she would burst.
“What? What else can there be?”
“The baby is Sean’s and we’re engaged. We’re getting married!” Emma closed her eyes and savored the words. Now, hearing them out loud, it made everything so real between them.
A huge grin lifted her lips as she met her fiancé’s eyes. Sean was smiling like a proud idiot and Allison unlatched from Emma’s side and threw herself at him. He caught her in a hug, nearly taking them both off balance. The two scrambled to remain standing and he patted her back awkwardly.
“Your part of the family now,” Allison said. “Wow. Holy shit, wow. That’s so…amazing…”
“You have no idea how hard it was not to tell you,” Makenzie giggled.
“It’s been less than five hours, Kenzie. It couldn’t have been that hard,” Emma teased gently, watching the happiness and love spread out through the messy kitchen.
“Well, my cat knows, but I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“You told Mr. Wiggles?” Emma raised an eyebrow and scoffed.
“I had to tell someone!”
Allison launched into all the stereotypical pregnancy questions, her previously exhausted demeanor taking a backseat. She clattered around the kitchen, pulling out cucumbers, crackers and hummus to snack on as she poured fruit punch and ginger ale for everyone.
“Do you think I should wake Stewart?” she asked.
“No, we can tell him tomorrow.” Sean sipped on his drink. “As a future father, I wouldn’t want to be woken up either.”
Emma squeezed her hands together in her lap, fighting off the happy tears that were already gathering in her eyes again. It all seemed so surreal as she mentally put together a little list of the other people they needed to tell.
“All I want to do is thumb my nose up at every doctor who ever told me it couldn’t be done,” Emma laughed, crunching on a cucumber.
“Sometimes, you just need to relax and be in the right mindset,” Allison said, sitting back down. “Were you really relaxing while you were trying these past few months, hon? Because honestly, I think the only time I’ve seen you truly relax is right now. You’re normally always moving and going, thinking and planning, you don’t ever stop. I think he’s good for you.”
“Hey, don’t give me too much credit,” Sean said. “I’m also the one that almost screwed everything up for all of us. Twice.”
“Well you got where you needed to go in the end, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?” Makenzie piped up, hogging all the hummus as she hovered over the snack tray.
“At least you’re good eye candy,” Emma laughed. “Makes you very easy to forgive.”
“But, now that you’re a permanent part of Emma’s life, you know where this is going, right?” Allison crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, a serious expression on her face. “It’s time for best-friend interrogation, part two.”
“What do you want to know? I’m an open book.” Sean spread out his hands in a peaceable gesture.
“Uh-huh, we’ve heard that one before.” Allison sat forward again and folded her hands on top of the table. “How long you got for this thing?”
“As long as it takes for you to trust me with Emma and our child.”
“Ding, ding, ding. Right answer,” Makenzie supplied. “And for your participation, you’ve won a lifetime supply of turtle wax.”
“That’ll be helpful for the yacht.”
Chapter 29
Emma
Eight Months Later
“Are you ready for your sabbatical? I honestly thought you were just going to keep going until you gave birth.” Sean carried in the box of office supplies Emma had stored all around the house and deposited them on top of the fridge. “Now you can’t reach them until after the baby is born. No temptation, no issue, right?”
“Yes, yes,” Emma humored him, grumpily bouncing on a yoga ball in the middle of the floor. “No emails, no notes, no nothing. Only baby, relaxation, and fun.”
He gave her look as he stepped off the step stool.
“Safe fun,” she corrected.
“Good. Now that we understand the ground rules, do you want your pregnancy books before I head out to the office?”
“Actually, I was thinking I would watch some movies and sit on the couch doing nothing. The idea of thinking hurts my brain.”
“Well thankfully, you don’t have to.” Sean came over and crossed around the back of her ball, rubbing her shoulders in the exact way he knew drove her into a relaxation coma. “I got everything covered. Our bags are all packed, our suite is booked at the hospital, our doctor and second doctor in case our first choice is sick or busy—”
“All we need now is to get this baby out of me so I can have a nice glass of wine and some sushi and then be able to feel my toes again,” Emma finished.
“And to think, you were begging to do this nine months ago, right?”
She didn’t need to look at him to know he was smirking.
“You are a pain in my ass,” she growled, leaning back into his hands. “Shut up and keep rubbing.”
“Would you like me to rub that, too?”
“Maybe later.”
“Got it. No worries. I’ll be back to check on you during my lunch break and you can text me if you go out with the girls or anything changes, okay?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’ve become a lot more protective since I got pregnant?”
“You think?” Sean asked.
“Kiss me and leave for work, already. Before I pretend to have contractions to keep you here, just so I don’t get jealous of your industrious career. If I have to stop working, you should have to stop working too.”
“Are you pouting?” He laughed softly and came around, kneeling by the yoga ball and kissing her swiftly. “It’s adorable when you get all bent out of shape because you can’t be productive.”
“Stop coddling me. I mean it!”
Her words came with a smile spreading across her face, so she didn’t know how convincing they actually were.
Sean stood up, dusted off his khakis, and went to the front door, grabbing his coat and car keys as he went.
“Be safe today,” Emma called after him. “Don’t encourage those new interns of yours to do any stupid initiation stunts or anything.”
“Sweetheart, it’s a clinic, not a frat house. I’ll see you tonight. You relax, and don’t do any work!”
“I can’t make any promises.”
“You better not. I love you.”
“And I love you, too.”
No sooner had the front door closed, Emma gave into the exhaustion that had taken over her body and got off the yoga ball to waddle over to the couch, where she sat and looked up at the freshly painted walls.
Four months into her pregnancy, she had abandoned her apartment in favor of moving in with Sean after he had put on a very convincing presentation that came with a packet of notes and pie charts. That was why she was marrying him. Why she was so sad to see him go to work today.
He would be working another long night, possibly an all-nighter, in preparation for getting the new recruits ready to continue testing his recently approved fertility technique.
The very same one he had pioneered, and which had taken the medical community by storm after a final candidate, Emma’s replacement, went on to become pregnant. Months on, with women arriving at the clinic every week, Sean’s business was booming, his work making national headlines.
Every science publication in the world had been reaching out to him for an interview, his funding had skyrocketed, and a week from now her future husband was to be honored with a prestigious award from his colleagues in the medical community. When he had received the letter, Sean had almost thrown it out, assuming it must be spam. It wasn’t until Emma insisted on calling the number provided that they both understood what a massive honor was being bestowed on him.
“Everything is falling into place,” Emma whispered to herself, rubbing her bulging stomach as she tried to get comfortable sitting on the couch. “Just you and me now, baby. That’s the way it’s going to be for a while, until Daddy can take off paternity leave, but you don’t mind, do you? It’s been you and I for quite some time, hasn’t it?”
She had stopped feeling stupid talking to her stomach a few months ago and now she even caught herself doing it out in public. On the rare occasion when she did go out and waddling wasn’t too much of an encumbrance. For as long as she had longed for this very moment, Sean was right, she was a bit of hypocrite. Now she couldn’t wait until her son was crying in the next room and she was sleep deprived and up to her eyeballs in diapers, just like Allison.
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table and she reached awkwardly to grab it. Probably Sean, already checking up before he was even at the office.
“That’s not…Sean…” Emma mouthed, staring at her phone as she sank back into the couch. “What the—”
Sean’s parents were coming into town for the award ceremony next week. It would be Emma’s first time meeting them in person, because she had only met them once over a video call while they were in Dubai, and she and Sean had been expecting them to arrive the night before the ceremony. Now, according to his mother’s text message, they would be descending on Chicago, and their personal lives, in less than eight hours’ time.
When her phone vibrated again she thumbed the answer call button and put it to her ear.
“I’m sorry—” Sean’s voice rumbled through the other end.
“You’ve heard, then?”
“She just texted me now. I’m sorry, beautiful, I know we weren’t expecting this. What can I do to help?”
“Two pints of Rocky Road and an hour-long foot rub should suffice.”
“Fair enough,” Sean muttered.
“And you deal with them.” Emma stressed, staring at the fridge where she knew for a fact she had at least one of the vegan falafel wraps she had come to crave for the past month—even though she had never been vegan. “I’m serious, I don’t need this right now. They’re nice and all, but…”
“Yeah, I saw that one coming.” Sean sighed and she could almost see him rubbing his temples over the phone. “No, I get it. I’ll keep them occupied for you.”
“Perfect. I love you, jerkface.” Emma made a kiss noise over the phone.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 30
Emma
It had been an interesting week getting to know Sean’s parents. They were…eccentric, and more than a little snooty, but well-meaning and harmless enough, she thought, and Sean had kept his promise when it came to keeping them occupied when Emma felt too pregnant to deal with social obligations. Now the four of them were in a limo on their way to the awards ceremony, Mrs. Fisher chatting away while Sean’s father stared at his smartphone.
“Reginald, get off that thing. We came here to spend time with these two, not agonize over the tile grout on the condos.” Mrs. Fisher chastised her husband, swiping at his arm as he scrolled on his smartphone and glared at her.
She looked at Emma. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. Too much of his head has been in the construction of these elite condos since we started the realtor expansion business.”
“You have ten or fifteen realty boutiques now, don’t you?” Emma asked.
The question was meant as a lead-in to another subject. Thankfully, Sean’s mother took the bait and ran with it, prattling on about the company until the limo pulled up to the venue.
“You ready to hobnob?” Sean whispered into Emma’s ear as he helped her out of the limo and straightened her out, supporting her lower back as they walked forward toward the red carpet.
“Hardly, but I’ll put on a good face for you,” she said through a fake smile as photographers were already taking pictures. “Make sure your mother doesn’t get her hands on a copy of any of these pictures, okay?”
“Absolutely.” Sean kissed her cheek.
The sound of photographers shouting, vying for a photo of the man of the hour was a roar in her ears as the crowd buoyed her along the carpet. It was like being stuck in a riptide. Unstoppable and dangerous, but only if she lost her head, she only had to swim against it and everything would be fine.
As Sean escorted her into the ballroom with his parents not far behind, Emma was introduced to a slew of scientists, philanthropists, and notable members of the medical establishment. It seemed like everyone and their mother had scored a ticket to the event. Emma’s head was spinning with all of the introductions and she prayed there wouldn’t be a pop quiz.
They had left as late as possible so that no one would be subjected to too much social climbing, but making friends with people came naturally to Emma so the stress of conversation wasn’t too bad. After twenty minutes on her feet, however, the baby had other ideas.
“Excuse me, I’ll be back.” She nodded toward a sweet older woman she had been talking to and didn’t bother Sean who was busy in a heated discussion with one of his partners across the room.
She made her way through the throng of people until she saw the ladies’ room and pushed through the door into the elegantly appointed room. She breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the couch, throwing off her heels. Each plop of the shoes as they came off her feet was as joyous as letting go of two three-ton weights. Next she stretched her neck and tried to recall the exercises she had learned in prenatal yoga to keep the blood flow going through her body during extended periods of standing.
A sharp pang shot out through her lower back and Emma gasped, doubling over from the shock. When the pain went through her again, like a ripple of a muscle cramp across her whole abdomen, she tried to hold it in, as if her hand’s pressure could somehow quell the twisting pain.
Her breath ripped from her lungs and she shifted on the couch, unsure if this was something to be worried about or if it would go away. She made a mental promise that if it continued, she would get Sean. Despite the fact that even moving seemed impossible.
The agony whipped through her spine, but she gritted her teeth as each pulse tightened and then died away again.
“Emma, are you all right?”
Mrs. Fisher crouched into Emma’s line of vision, a concerned look swimming across her face.
“Sean sent me to check on you. It seemed you’d be gone for a long time.” The older woman took Emma’s hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re looking pale, dear. Please tell me if there’s anything you need, anything I can get you.”
Emma shook her head, focusing on her breathing as the next series of sharp pangs echoing through her body like a steel drum. Nothing else mattered or existed between the moments when one crested and another rose inside her body. It felt like an eternity before she could speak.
“I’m fine, Mrs. Fisher, thank you.”
A few minutes went by without issue. When she asked her future mother-in-law how long they had been sitting there, she replied for no more than three or four minutes, meaning Emma was in the clear and didn’t have to tell Sean just yet. Clearly, she was stressed and under a lot of pressure tonight; it must have been a false alarm.
With Mrs. Fisher’s help, Emma walked over to
the sink and dampened a paper towel, wiping the cold sweat from her face and the back of her neck.
“Are you having contractions?” Mrs. Fisher asked. “Do we need to get you to the hospital, dear?
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Emma murmured, gently rubbing her stomach. “It was probably Braxton-Hicks, or something I ate this morning. My water hasn’t broken, and I have a couple weeks left to go before my due date.”
“You don’t think we should tell Sean?”
“No, please. Not on his big day,” Emma pleaded, throwing away the paper towel. “See? I’m fine now. Just a false alarm.”
“If you’re sure, you’re sure.” Mrs. Fisher came in for an unexpected hug and Emma made a surprised noise, embracing the woman awkwardly before they parted. “Let’s go out and be with the other guests before we miss Sean’s big moment, shall we?”
Emma nodded and allowed the older woman to lead her out of the bathroom, back to the main dining room where most of the other attendees were already seated. They took a seat at their table, where Emma downed the glass of water Sean’s mother poured for her.
“There, doesn’t that feel much better?”
Emma nodded placatingly, too aware of her own body for comfort.
It was stupid to come to the ceremony, she thought now. She had gotten complacent after the sixth month of healthy checkups and no issues, blissful in her ability to carry this baby to term—her miracle baby. Now, she regretted everything, as her body and mind became a hot zone for paranoia.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave your side,” Mrs. Fisher muttered in her ear, squeezing her hand.
There were some loud murmurs from the crowd around them. A few people tapped their glasses with knives or forks and Emma fixed her eyes on the stage where her future husband was walking toward the podium.
Whatever introduction Sean received from the obviously prestigious figure on stage, Emma didn’t hear it. She was too busy uncurling her fingers to re-curl them over her heaving, rippling belly as another contraction gripped her from all sides.
The Baby Plan Page 15
