My Resolution

Chapter 10

“Is she okay?” I demanded.  

“That’s all I know; she might be in preterm labor and Mrs. Boone is at the hospital,” Angelina responded gently.  

I left the kitchen, hitting Mrs. Boone’s number on my phone. I wasn’t sure she would answer, but I had to try. She finally answered after the fourth ring. “Val?”  

“Mrs. Boone! Is she okay? Is the baby, okay? What's going on?” I barked questions without giving her the chance to answer.  

“Val! Take a breath,” she asserted, “Emma is fine. They were able to stop the labor. The baby is fine. No one is in distress. They’re being kept overnight for monitoring and will be placed on bed rest when she goes home.”  

I breathed a sigh of relief, Emma is like the big sister I never had, the thought of something bad happening. I don’t want to think about it. “Thank the goddess,” I breathed, “Do you need me to do anything?”  

“Just take care of home and the pups the way you always do. I will be home later on. Gavin is staying with her tonight,” she answered.  

“Okay, I will take care of everything, Mrs. Boone. Don’t worry about that.”  

“I know I don’t have to. I’m going to go check on Emma, you have a good evening.”   

“You too,” I answered, before hanging up.  

I help get the pups fed, bathed, and tucked in before sitting down in the great room to watch television. I don’t generally watch a lot of television, so I was just scrolling through channels looking for anything remotely intriguing. I settled on a show called “Supernatural”, I’d never seen it before, but I had heard good things. Emma had once told me that several of the actors were werewolves, as well. I liked following werewolf celebrities.  

I was wrapped around myself in horror as I watch Dean get ripped to death by hell hounds when Mrs. Boone got home. I grabbed the remote and turned off the television, making a mental note to watch more of this show.   

“Welcome home,” I smiled, scooting over to offer her a seat on the couch.  

“Thank you, dear,” she sighed, sitting next to me and wrapping her arm around my shoulders.   

“Any kind of update?” I asked.  

“No, they’re both doing fine,” she explained, “Emma will be spending more time with us for the next few weeks. Gavin will drop her off in the morning on his way to work, and pick her up on his way home. That way, we know she isn’t having to overdo it.”  

“That sounds like a good plan,” I said, thinking Emma would hate being waited on, but knowing she would want to do what's best for her little baby bean.  

“The doctor’s goal is getting her to, at least, the five-month mark,” she explained, “even that’s pretty early when you figure wolves are only pregnant for six months. But it's very survivable for the baby at that point.”  

I nodded, “How did she know she was in labor? Did her water break?”  

Mrs. Boone softly chuckled, “No, dear. She was in a great deal of pain because she was having regular contractions. If her water had broken, they would have had to deliver because of the risk of infection. Regardless, it's pretty uncommon for the water to break before labor has started, in fact, it usually doesn’t break until a woman has been laboring for hours, sometimes doctors must break the water themselves; babies have even been born inside their sac. That’s not incredibly common either though. My point is, don’t believe everything you see in movies.”  

“Well, I learned something today,” I jested.   

“You’ll learn all this eventually, down the road when you’re having pups of your own,” she said hugging me tightly.  

“Yeah,” I replied, awkwardly, “pups of my own.”  

“I am exhausted, so I’m going to get to bed. You should think about doing the same, Val,” she directed.  

The next few weeks passed quickly between schoolwork, planning spring break, and helping Emma. Donovan and I were each deep into our biology experiment. For the record, documenting and photographing the decay of chicken carcasses is disgusting, but the experiment had finally ended, so now it was just drafting and fine-tuning our journal. Mara and I had spent more time together, and we had become surprisingly good friends. She did apologize to Donovan and the rest of the group and started hanging out with all of us more. She seemed to be doing a lot better than she had been at, Christmas time and said she was finding it easier every day to let go of Drew. “It’s the mate bond,” she had admitted to me one afternoon, “and I don’t want to be with anyone but my destined mate. It's not Drew, and that’s okay.” I was proud of her.  

Emma had been at the house every day that Gavin worked or was on watch. She had been following doctor’s orders, not that Mrs. Boone gave her much choice. There hadn’t been another scare, which we were all thankful for. I spent many afternoons sitting in the great room with Emma watching “Supernatural.” I told her I had gotten to see part of an episode I couldn’t wait to watch more. As luck would have it, she owned all the available episodes on Blu-ray. She spent most days stretched out on the couch, only getting up to use the restroom, up until a couple of days ago when the doctor lifted all her restrictions. Her due date is a week from now, so the doctor said she is safe to go at any time.  

She finally went into labor, two days after her due date, and Mrs. Boone was right, there was no breaking of the water, but there was lots of breathing and crying out from Emma.  

Emma demanded an epidural before the door to the hospital had closed behind her. She was pissed when they said she would have to wait until they could get her situated in her room. Once they finally got her hooked up to all kinds of monitors and ran an IV, a nurse checked her cervix. Emma was dilated to a four with “a long way to go, yet.” I basically understood what all of this meant, the whole process made me cringe a little bit. An hour later, she still hadn’t seen the anesthesiologist and she was seething. Gavin’s parents left to find out what was taking so long, while Mrs. Boone and I stayed with Emma.   

“I know it hurts, dear, you need to breathe,” Mrs. Boone was saying while rubbing Emma’s back.  

“What happens if they don’t give you an epidural?” I asked, genuinely curious.  

“I have a baby and then I kill the anesthesiologist,” Emma’s words dripped with annoyance.  

“Oh, now, it will be okay,” Mrs. Boone chided.  

“I know,” Emma sighed, relaxing back into her pillow, “but there's no reason for them taking their sweet ass time. Some women don’t want epidurals, that their prerogative, good for them. I’m not that woman and that’s okay too. Goddess willing, we all go home with the same prize, a healthy baby.”  

“There are risks to having an epidural,” Mrs. Boone gently warned.  

“There are risks no matter what. I put myself at risk the moment I decided to get pregnant. I should get to make those choices, no one else, not Gavin, not the doctor, no one,” Emma said firmly.  

“You’re absolutely right,” Mrs. Boone conceded, “You’re about to be a mom, so you have to be able to make decisions for you and your baby.”  

“Thank,” Emma took a deep breath, grunting out, “you,” before she started her breathing exercises as another contraction started.  

Mr. And Mrs. Callaghan returned announcing that anesthesia was on their way.  

Twenty minutes later, they finally arrived, clearly in no hurry. They made everyone leave, except Gavin, so they could do the procedure. When we were eventually allowed back into the room, Emma was in much better spirits.  

“How ya feeling, Gem? Gavin asked gently.  

“f*****g amazing, there's pressure, but I can do this,” she smiled.  

Eleven hours later, the doctor finally announced it was time to push. I left the room with the Callaghans while Gavin and Mrs. Boone stayed to coach her through.   

Around forty-five minutes later, we heard the cry of an infant and pandemonium behind the door. Mr. Callaghan rushed in after a moment, followed by Mrs. Callaghan and me. The only things off seemed to be the fearful looks on every single medical professional in the room and I could smell smoke, for some reason. Emma, Gavin, and Mrs. Boone did look confused, but given the faces surrounding them, I would probably be confused too.  

“What the hell is going on in here?” Mr. Callaghan demanded.  

No one spoke, but Gavin motioned us over and gestured toward the white bundle of blankets in Emma’s arms. There was a little baby face peeking through the blankets. He was surprisingly dark with bright blonde fuzzy hair all over his head, he seemed to be sleeping.   

“He looks just like you Gavin, except he’s a touch darker, he’s beautiful,” Mrs. Callaghan cooed.  

“Okay, this doesn’t explain what we heard outside though,” said Mr. Callahan, while softly touching his grandson’s cheek.  

That gentle touch seemed to stir the baby. His little eyelids fluttered open, the three of us jumped. His eyes seemed to burn like the glow of embers.  

Our reaction must have startled him because he started crying at that moment. Thick black smoke came billowing out of his precious mouth with every wail.  

“Damn it,” Emma muttered, taking him into her arms and rocking her torso while patting his back. “Shhh...”   

Mr. Callaghan looked from Emma to Gavin and back again. He opened his mouth, but after a moment closed it again, seemingly unable to produce words.  

“What does this mean?” I finally asked since it seemed none of the adults were going to speak.  

“It means,” Emma sighed, “I need to try to find out more about my birth family.”  

Finally, to doctor spoke up, “A lot is going on right now, and everyone is confused, but let's clear out the extra people, so I can finish taking care of Emma, and the baby can have his routine examination.”  

That announcement seemed to pull everyone back to reality, at least for the time being.  

We returned to the hall so that the medical staff could work, waiting impatiently until we were finally allowed back into the room.   

“Okay, let me see my handsome grandson,” Mrs. Callaghan crooned.  

“Mom, I don’t know if...” Gavin started, looking at Emma regretfully, “well, what if he isn’t...”, but he was immediately cut off by his mother.  

“Hey!” Emma hissed, at the same moment Mrs. Callaghan began scolding him.   

“Gavin don’t be stupid. Of course, he’s yours,” she snapped, “If it isn’t enough that he looks exactly like you did as an infant, last I checked, you are mated to Emma. If she had cheated, you’d have felt it.”  

Awareness washed over his face, “I didn’t think about that.”  

His parents were right. Gavin would have known if she had cheated on him. Fully mated wolves are tied to one another at a spiritual level, they can feel each other's emotions and sense each other’s presence. If she had slept with someone else, he would have felt the betrayal, it supposedly feels like death for both if one of the mates cheats because the bond is literally being destroyed.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” his father demanded, “Were you just standing in her accusing your mate of...of...What the hell is wrong with you?”  

Gavin flinched, “I hadn’t said anything. I was just, well, I didn’t expect to have a dragon baby!”  

“Be serious. Dragons aren’t shifters,” I scoffed, everyone looked at me, “Sorry.” I raised my hands in surrender and went to sit next to Mrs. Boone.  

It was true though, Dragons aren’t shifters, so he wasn’t a dragon baby. I started absently searching for supernatural creatures with burning eyes and smokey breath. I found a few possibilities, but none that I seemed to make any obvious sense given the fact that Emma was just a small she-wolf, as far as anyone could tell from the moment she was found and delivered to the Boones. She had olive skin, deep brown eyes, and raven hair. She was wispy and graceful, standing at barely five feet tall with fine delicate features. Her wolf, Nuri, with her dark smokey gray fur, was a pretty standard size for a werewolf. Mr. Boone had expected her wolf to be tiny like Emma, but she wasn’t even the smallest wolf in the pack. I didn’t know what to make of any of this, but I was going to help Emma with anything I could.  

Mrs. Boone seemed distracted the entire drive home. When we arrived, she rushed inside and went straight to her office. I trailed behind her, peeking around the door, she was digging through one of the many filing cabinets that lined the walls.  

“Mrs. Boone,” I said, announcing my presence, “Is there anything I can do to help?”  

“I don’t know, Val. I don’t know what any of us can do, honestly,” she said, still digging.  

“May I ask what you’re looking for?”  

“I’m trying to find Emma’s file,” she explained, “I may have a clue to all of this, or, at least, something.”  

“You would have moved her file to storage after she moved out of the house,” I offered.  

“Yes, but I pulled it after that scare we had back in January. I add any pertinent medical information as things arise creating a sort of familial medical history for my baby's descendants,” she said absently, digging through a pile on her desk.  

I looked around the room, not knowing where to begin to look, but before I could even start, Mrs. Boone shouted, “here it is!” She began rifling through it while I took a seat in the chair across from her desk.  

“Eureka!” she exclaimed, waving a photo in the air.  

“What’s that?” I asked with interest.  

“This is a picture of Emma the day she was delivered to us,” Mrs. Boone explained, “When she arrived, she was covered in thick mud. It was matted in her hair and all over her body. It took some time and effort to clean that poor baby up, but when I did, I discovered that her hair was indigo.”  

“What? Does Emma know?” I demanded.  

“No, it's going to sound so ridiculous, but I haven’t thought about it in years,” she frowned, “You know we thought Emma was a baby when she arrived, but it turns out that wasn’t the case, she was closer to two.” I nodded.  

“Well,” she continued, “about three days after she came to us, her hair turned from indigo to the black that it is now. I need to check some dates, but I think that may have been her actual birthdate. Her hair changed on her second birthday.”  

“But what does that mean?” I asked, more confused than before.  

“I don’t know, dear, but it may help Emma.”  

Mrs. Boone called Emma to let her know that, once she gets home and all settled in, she would come over with her file to see if they could find some clues. I headed upstairs to shower and sleep.   

My phone buzzed in my pocket, it was a text from Donovan.  

Donovan:  

-How did it go?  

It’s not my tale to tell, I thought.  

Me:  

-Mom and baby are both healthy and safe  

Donovan:  

-That’s great!  

-Are you ready for spring break?  

Spring break seemed like the most frivolous thought considering everything going on, of course, he didn’t know that. I stood there staring at my phone when I had an epiphany.  

Me:  

-Yeah  

-I have an idea for something we could do too  

Donovan:  

-Sweet!  

-What?  

Me:  

-We can talk about it tomorrow  

-I’m exhausted  

Donovan:  

-That’s fair! Sweet dreams, Valley Girl