I shook his hand. “Jesse.”

“Good to meet you.” He dropped down onto his chair with the chart in his hand, his attention fully focused on Emmie now. “So, you have been having some pressure. How long has it been going on?”

Emmie shrugged. “A day or so. Nothing to horrible. Just really uncomfortable,” she explained.

Dr. Chesterfield nodded. “Well your urine was clear. No infection. Let’s take a look to see how the baby is positioned.” He pulled on some gloves and then positioned Emmie so that she was lying on her back with her feet in some scary contraption called stirrups. He raised the paper blanket to her knees, and she spread her legs wide.

Emmie reached for my hand and I was quick to let her grab on. She clenched it tight while the doctor moved around down there. A small whimper escaped her mouth and I was about to punch the doctor when he pulled back and tossed the gloves in the trash. He was frowning, and I felt dread fill my stomach.

“Well?” Emmie muttered as she sat up, holding the paper blanket to her waist.

The doctor was washing his hands now, but he turned around to face her while he dried them. “The baby’s head is already large. That’s going to be a big baby, Emmie. And you aren’t exactly made to deliver a child like that.”

“What does that mean?” she whispered.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “It just means that I think you should have a C-section. It will be best for both you and the baby. You are a small little thing, and after seeing the baby’s father on your last appointment, I can assume that she is going to take after him.”

Tears came on so suddenly I didn’t have time to prepare for their impact as she rubbed her hands over her belly. “I had just gotten used to the thought of pushing her out. Now you’re saying I have to be cut open?” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I hate this,” she whispered, and I pulled her against my chest.

“I know it’s scary to think about, Emmie. Let me explain what will happen so that you will be a little more prepared, okay?” The doctor told us exactly how he would perform the C-section, or cesarean section, or whatever it was! I felt the blood drain from my face as he described how he would cut Emmie open and move her insides around before pulling the baby out. Emmie would be awake during the whole thing…

Fuck, I really wished Nik had come!

Emmie was quiet the entire drive home. When her phone rang, she just turned the ringer off and tossed it in her purse. I drove with one hand on the wheel and the other holding one of her hers. She clutched at it as if it was her only life line, and I couldn’t blame her, because I was holding on just as tightly.

My phone rang just as I was pulling into the driveway at home. I glanced down to see Nik’s face on the screen and snatched it up as soon as the car was in park. “Come home,” I told him without bothering to offer a greeting. “Emmie’s okay, but just get home.”

There was a charged pause, and then Nik was muttered a string of violent curses. “I’m on my way. She’s okay, right? You swear to me she’s okay, Jesse!”

I ran a hand over my face and head. “She’s fine, Nik. She’s just upset.”

Another charged pause and then he croaked out, “The baby..?”

“She’s fine too. Just hurry the fuck up, Nik,” I told him and ended the call. I turned in my seat to find Emmie just staring out the window at the beach house. I reached for her chin and gently turned her to face me. “This isn’t that bad,” I assured her. “Women have C-sections all the time, sweetheart.”

She gave me a small smile. “I guess they do.” she sighed. “This is just really hard to take in, you know?”

“I know.” I couldn’t think about what would happen when it came time for the baby to be born. The doctor was already talking about a possible date to take the baby. Depending on how the baby was doing, he wanted to take her at least a week before November 6th, Emmie’s due.

Which meant that the baby was coming earlier than expected!

I got out and helped Emmie from the car. She held onto my hand as we entered the house. She sat on the long end of the sectional and I offered to get her some iced water. She just shrugged and I rushed to do it—to do anything to feel helpful right now!

Layla was in the kitchen when I walked in. She was putting away dishes and offered me a shy smile as I entered the room. The smile evaporated when she saw my pale, drawn face.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

I sighed, wanting to tell her everything. She looked thoughtful as I moved around fixing Emmie a glass of iced water while I told her how the doctor’s appointment had gone. When I was done, she just smiled and left the kitchen. I found her sitting by Emmie in the living room.

Emmie was sobbing while Layla held her close, gently rocking her. “I know it’s scary, Emmie. I would be terrified to, honey.”

I had never seen Emmie cling like that to another female before. It was gut wrenching to watch her crying, but I was glad that it was Layla that was holding her close, whispering soothing words to her while she got it all out of her system. Emmie had never had a friend that could help her through female things like this. Even though the guys and I would move mountains for her, we have never been able to soothe her like Layla was now.

“I bet it’s on YouTube,” Layla said once Emmie had calmed enough that she was no longer sobbing. Dammit, those little hiccup noises were just as bad if you asked me. “And if not, we could get you a tape of an actual C-section. I bet the doctor made it sound terrifying. I think seeing it will help you understand better. But Lana was born by C-section and my mom said it was much better than having me the old fashioned way.”

“I’m so scared, Layla,” she whispered.

I wanted to punch something. Emmie had had enough fear growing up. I had promised her and myself that she would never have to be scared again the day she came to live with us. There was nothing I could do about the fear she was feeling right now. There was no one that I could destroy to make her fear go away this time. I was useless right now, and it was killing me.

“Every woman is scared when she’s having a baby, Em. I swear that what you’re feeling is natural. It’s going to be okay. You and the baby are going to be just fine.” Layla was stroking her hair, moving it back from her damp face, offering gentle smiles and tender words.

“Let’s get your computer and check out some sites,” Layla said. She glanced up at me, gave me a reassuring smile, and held out her hand for the glass of water I had clutched tightly in my hand. It was a wonder I hadn’t broken the glass the way I was holding it. Her fingers lingered just a moment longer than necessary on my hand, but in that moment I felt some of my tension ease. “How about getting Emmie’s laptop for us?” she murmured.