“Go right ahead.” The midwife stood at the foot of the bed. “You’re ready. On the next pain, push.”
Feeling helpless, I took my mate’s hand and reminded him about the breathing practice. It seemed so little compared to what he was doing, but it was all I had. And then, while I was patting his hand and telling him he was a rock star, I heard the cry.
“She’s here.” The midwife held up the baby. She was not a sixth grader or a toddler. In fact, our daughter weighed seven pounds seven ounces, and she was absolutely perfect. The midwife laid her on Temple’s chest, and he encircled her with a protective arm.
“Isn’t she beautiful, alpha?” he asked.
“Yes.” I stroked her cheek gently with one finger. “She is.”
“Do we have a name?” The midwife was bustling around, cleaning up and doing whatever they do.
“Kylie,” I whispered. “Her name is Kylie.”
Epilogue
Temple
I woke with a start, the room bright and panic seeping in. I rushed to the bassinet, wondering how Kylie hadn’t woken us up all night, only to see her gone. It was only then that I saw my mate was gone too.
Leave it to me to panic.
Of course, my mate was just taking care of our child. As wild as I thought pregnancy was, this postpartum period was just as bad, only in a different way.
I kept asking the goddess for a full night’s sleep, or at least a few solid hours, and then when I finally got it, what did I do? I panicked and rushed out of bed, freaking out.
After a quick stop in the bathroom, I went into the living room where I found my mate holding our sleeping daughter as he tapped with one finger on his laptop.
“Trying to work?” My mate worked a lot, and at first, it used to annoy me because I thought the pack expected too much of him. I soon figured out that my mate loved it. It was he who pushed himself, not others being demanding.
“I’m meeting with a pack next week, trying to help them figure out a better way to deal with their finances.”
My mate had become the go-to person when it came to that kind of thing. Word got out that he was an expert after he helped my brothers’ pack as part of his negotiations to get them back living there, and the calls started coming in almost right away.
He charged for his services, bringing money to our pack. His services had done a lot of good all the way around. For so long, packs kept their finances close to their chests, not wanting others to know. I didn’t understand why. Businesses knew how much other businesses made, and it didn’t impact anything.Why couldn’t communities? But they historically didn’t. It still wasn’t open and available to everyone, but it was discussed more, and a lot of that had to do with my mate sharing the different tools and strategies he had.
“I’ll take our sweet girl, and you can get back to it,” I offered.
“I want you to spend this morning relaxing. Maybe take a long bath, eat one of the thousand casseroles we have in the freezer, or go for a walk. Just have some you time before today’s festivities.”
Part of me thought that sounded wonderful, but my chest was filling to the point of discomfort, a reminder that I needed to, at the very least, pump. Kylie was great about drinking directly from the source, but Gabe loved to be an equal part of her life, including feedings and diapers. I was producing enough that it made it easy to do both bottles and direct feeds with her.
I grabbed a new milk bag from the counter then took a quick look in the freezer for what to eat this morning and popped one of my faves into the oven. When we had Kylie, the pack had sent over numerous meals for our freezer, saying that I needed to focus on our baby and not cooking for the first month. Then the diner sent three coolers full when we stopped by to show off our sweet girl. Not wanting to be outdone, a few of the packs my mate had helped also contributed. It was over the top.
If we ate one of the frozen meals for every single meal, we still wouldn’t have to cook for another two months. The entire pack freezer was stocked, as well as our one at home. If cooking for people was a love language, we were loved beyond measure.
I pumped and took a long hot shower, not wanting to be gone long enough for a bath. When I came out, Kylie was beginning to stir. “Let me at least get her changed,” I said, and he agreed. When I came back out with her ready for the day, my mate was closing his laptop.
“Breakfast smells delicious. What is it?”
“It’s Layla’s French toast bake. And trust me, it’s better than it smells. Which doesn’t sound possible, but it’s true.”
We barely had it on the table when Gabe’s parents came in. “We were going to offer to come and make you breakfast, but it looks like you’ve got that taken care of.” They had recently moved into their new home, which had just been completed.
It amused me how much this pack wanted to make sure we were fed.
“It looks like maybe you should join us instead,” I said, setting a place at the table for each of them.
Gabe’s father made grabby hands for Kylie, who was thrilled to see him. The four of us with teeth ate while Kylie went between her grandparents, having the best time of her life. Mostly, Gabe and his father talked about the pack they were currently helping, while his dad and I discussed heading to town to check out the thrift store for baby clothes—not that she needed any, but there was something fun about the hunt.
