Chapter 7 - THE BABY WHO CAME TOO EARLY
The pain started at 3:12 in the morning.
At first, I thought it was another practice contraction.
I sat up.
Breathed.
Waited.
Then the pain returned.
Stronger.
I looked at the clock.
Eight months pregnant.
Not quite ready.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Not tonight.”
My housekeeper, Mrs. Alvarez, drove me to the hospital while I called my obstetrician.
By the time we arrived, the contractions were regular.
The medical team evaluated me.
My blood pressure was elevated.
The baby needed monitoring.
And the doctors explained that delivery might happen sooner than expected.
I was terrified.
Not of childbirth itself.
Of doing it alone.
Caleb called while I was being assessed.
I almost ignored him.
Then answered.
“What?”
His voice was cold.
“You had me suspended.”
I closed my eyes.
“Caleb, I'm in the hospital.”
Silence.
Then:
“What?”
“I'm in labor.”
He laughed once.
“Convenient.”
My heart broke.
“Caleb.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
I stared at the ceiling.
Then whispered:
“Don't come.”
I ended the call.
Mr. Harlan arrived later that morning.
He stood beside my bed.
“Eleanor.”
I began crying.
“I want my dad.”
His face softened.
“I know.”
I covered my face.
“I don't know how to do this.”
He took my hand.
“Your father didn't know how to be a father when you were born either.”
I looked at him.
He smiled sadly.
“He learned.”
Hours later, my daughter was born.
Small.
Beautiful.
Furious.
She cried the moment she entered the world.
The medical team examined her carefully and arranged additional monitoring because she was premature.
When they placed her against me, I began sobbing.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Her tiny fingers curled against my skin.
I kissed her forehead.
“I'm your mommy.”
I looked at her.
Then whispered the name I'd chosen.
“Grace.”
Grace Elizabeth Mercer.
For now.
Because one day, when the legal process allowed, I intended to give her a name connected to the people who would love her without conditions.
That evening, Mr. Harlan returned with a small box.
“Your father asked me to give you this after the baby was born.”
Inside was a silver locket.
On one side was a photograph of my mother.
On the other was a picture of my father holding me as a newborn.
Beneath it was a note.
For my granddaughter, whoever she becomes.
May you like
I pressed the locket to my chest.
And cried.
