“We’ll get one when we get her medicine.” I take Laurel back.
“90th percentile for humans, and just about average for what she is. You’re doing a beautiful job, parents. I’ll just— Ooh.” Dr. Vaughn stops as he starts typing on his laptop.
“Ooh?” Artie and I say as one.
“There’s no insurance completed. I’ll send you back out to the reception desk to get that filled out so I can put this prescription through.”
“Ah. Doc, we’ll pay out of pocket. Her birth certificate isn’t ready yet. We had a home birth, and there’s red tape in completing the request. Without the birth certificate, my insurance hasn’t added Laurel. Yet.”
“Hm. Well, I understand the home birth, especially if you’re new to paranormal-friendly Pine Ridge. I want you to make an appointment with Alban and Alain Wymark. They’re lawyers. And warlocks. Alban’s twins are my patients, and I’ll vouch for him. If you need something filed or found—” he meets my eyes, “like maybe something you think the regular courts wouldn’t handle properly, you see them and tell them I sent you. Things like birth certificates, Social Security cards, identification papers that members of the supernatural community sometimes neglect to get until they arrive in Pine Ridge and realize they don’t have to hide... Yes. They’ll take care of everything. In the meantime, we’ll put this in after you get your insurance information updated. I’m pretty sure we have a prescription discount card for you, Dad. You’ll fill out some information andget the app set up on your phone. It’ll be more than it would be with insurance, but less than it would be without the card.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Vaughn. We’ll get an appointment with those guys. Do you know if they’re expensive?” Artie asks, taking the black-and-yellow cardboard card that Dr. Vaughn pulls from his desk drawer.
“Not in this case. They’ll work out a payment plan, too. This community takes care of each other, especially if there might be members with ‘limited options.’”
I squeeze Artie’s hand and breathe out a sigh of relief. Laurel’s okay. And if these warlock guys can get her a birth certificate... Maybe they can get me one, too?
Chapter Thirteen: November Fourteenth
November 14th, 2025
Pine Ridge, New York
“Last dose! Who’s a healthy little cutie pie?” I give Laurel her liquid medicine like a pro now.
I feel like a pro at so many things after this week.
“Who’s the best wife and mom ever?” Artie says in an exaggerated voice, coming up to kiss my neck as I hold Laurel on one hip and stir the minestrone with my free hand. “Dinner smells fantastic. Oh, Immy, look at Laurel. She’s licking her lips. Aww, baby girl. Next year at this time, you’ll be eating all the good things. I’m done with my meeting. Want me to take her?”
“Sure. I’m making garlic bread, too.”
“Where’d we get the huge pot?” Artie asks. “And how’d you learn to do this, you domestic superwoman, you?” Another kiss as he whisks Laurel away, but he doesn’t leave the kitchen. He starts getting out plates and bowls.
“Sophie from book club loaned it to me. She has two kids, and her youngest is going to be a year old in January. And the recipe is from Charlotte. Her husband is a vampire, and their little boy will be one in December. Also, so is Sophie’s.”
“I thought you said in January?”
“No, her husband is a vampire, too. But don’t worry, there’s no blood in the minestrone. It’s just any vegetables you have, an onion, cans of beans, cans of crushed tomatoes, chicken broth, and lots of herbs and spices. The herbs and spices are soexpensive at the store. Libby gave me a bunch of fresh ones from her windowsill garden.”
“Gosh, are any of the women married to regular humans? I feel... inferior.” Artie puts spoons next to the mismatched bowls we’ve thrifted.
I turn and look at him as he sets the table. He pats the mini pumpkin they gave out at story hour this week that is resting on a bed of flat, colorful leaves Laurel and I have collected on our walks.
I have soup on the stove, and bread that smells like heaven—even if it’s just been buttered and sprinkled with garlic powder before being put in the oven. Our baby girl is healthy. We both have birth certificates coming, and I’m listed as the mother.
I walk over to Artie slowly, grabbing his shoulder and kissing him hard. “It’s been a long, busy week.”
“I know, babe.”
“Laurel’s finally sleeping better.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Last Friday night was date night. Can it always be date night?”
“Always.”
I kiss him again, and Laurel gurgles and bats my chest as she’s sandwiched between us. “You are in no way inferior. Do you think I am?”
