Finding Her Forever Family. Traci Douglass

      After a moment, her sister-in-law relaxed and dug into the platter of nachos. Within minutes, as predicted, all the food was gone. She chugged down her water then banged the glass on the tabletop like a Viking. The server left a pitcher of water on the table.

      “Obviously we need names for the birth certificates,” Aiyana said, chewing suspiciously.

      Wendy looked at her own plate to find the rest of her nachos gone too. “Hey!”

      A guilty look crossed her pretty face. “Sorry.”

      Thankfully, the waiter soon came to the rescue, bringing the piping-hot Peanut Butter Brownie Surprise and an extra fork.

      Her sister-in-law deftly changed subjects, speaking around a mouthful of chocolate and ice cream. “Carmen says we’ll give it five more days. Then we’ll reassess.”

      Carmen Sanchez was her sister-in-law’s certified nurse midwife. With a master’s degree in nursing, she was sort of like an obstetrician and a midwife combined, except she couldn’t perform surgery. If Aiyana did end up needing a C-section they’d have to use the OB on call at Anchorage Mercy at the time of delivery.

      From years of working in the ER, Wendy knew that could be a crapshoot. Thankfully, Aiyana’s pregnancy had gone without a hitch thus far, so she could stay with her midwife, but the ever-present threat of preeclampsia and obstetric cholestasis meant the OB/GYN department was ready at all times, just in case.

      “Well, you’ve got my number on speed dial,” Wendy said. “And you know I’ll show up anytime, anywhere, whenever these kids decide to be born.”

      Aiyana looked up from her dessert, her cheeks persistently rosy this late in pregnancy. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” Wendy smiled. “Someone’s got to keep my brother in line while you’re in labor, right?”

      “Right.” Laughing, Aiyana eased out of the booth. “Need to use the restroom. Be right back.”

      She waddled away, and Wendy’s throat constricted with unexpected tears.

      She’d not expected to be so emotional over the impending delivery of the twins. Everything was about to change. Ned and Aiyana would have new responsibilities, new obligations, new lives to embark on. While she would stay stuck inside her self-imposed bubble, safe and protected and happy.

       And I am happy, right?

      Sure, she’d made sacrifices because of a potential medical diagnosis. But Wendy had been inconsolable for weeks after her mom’s passing. Her universe had imploded and when her world had re-formed, she’d been different—more guarded, more responsible, less carefree and reliant on others.

      Two decades had passed, but not much had changed.

      Maybe her social life had suffered lately because she was so busy. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. Which was good because it was hard to meet men when you worked eighty-plus hours a week.

      These days she had fun, dated, got involved with guys who were looking for a good time, not a long-term relationship, and kept what was left of her battered heart out of the equation.

      And so what if, sometimes, those niggles of yearning—the ones that whispered how wonderful it might be to have a baby and family of her own—became too persistent? She’d soon have her newborn niece and nephew to satisfy that craving.

      Plus, now there was Sam at work to keep her company.

      A friend who was a youth counselor at Anchorage Mercy had been going on vacation, and had asked Wendy if she’d be willing to help out with one of the kids she was treating who’d recently lost her mother. It was a no-brainer, given Wendy’s past and the fact she’d trained to volunteer helping at-risk youth at the hospital, which meant she’d already been screened and vetted. Sam was twelve and full of snark, reminding Wendy of herself at that age. Sam’s father also worked at the hospital, but, with her busy schedule, Wendy hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet. Plus, since she’d only be covering for a short time, it hadn’t seemed like a top priority.

      Over her few visits with Sam, though, Wendy had come to enjoy them and looked forward to those late-lunch chats.

      Sam was like the kid sister Wendy had never had.

      The sound of clattering dishes drew her attention to the afternoon sunshine filtering through the pub windows, flashing across tabletops and sparkling through rows of glasses and bottles waiting for customers behind the bar. The air smelled of lemon furniture polish and fried food. Outside, May in Alaska meant the whole state felt warm and green and bursting with life.

      Wendy took a deep breath, enjoying the calm before the storm. She had a shift in the ER later. The controlled chaos of working in trauma care suited her, partly because of her type A personality and partly because being raised in an all-male household meant she’d had to be scrappy to survive. She could take care of herself, could drink and curse with the best of them, could rebuild an engine faster than anyone. And all that independence played nicely into her belief that if she just kept moving, kept busy, kept one step ahead of the game, then her genetics wouldn’t catch up with her.

      “I’m back,” Aiyana said, perching on the edge of her seat like a cello player.

      Wendy nodded, shoving her last bite of dessert into her mouth. She wasn’t generally the sappy or reflective type, but a tiny part of her wanted to shave off a little of the wonderful closeness Aiyana and Ned shared and hold it inside, so she could turn to it when she felt lonely or desperate. Wendy never stuck around long enough in relationships for things to get that deep.

      “How’s work?” her sister-in-law asked.

      “Same old, same old. Lots of bee stings and weekend warrior accidents this time of year.”

      She went to say more, but her sister-in-law leaned over again, inhaling deeply. By Wendy’s estimation, the contractions were about seven minutes apart, lasting about thirty-eight seconds.

      Once the pain passed, Aiyana drank half a glass of water.

      “I’m dehydrated,” her sister-in-law said, smoothing back her long black ponytail.

      And delusional, Wendy thought. These were more than false labor pains. “Sure.”

      They chatted for a few more minutes and Aiyana snagged one last stray tortilla chip from the nacho tray and shoved it into her mouth. From what Wendy could see, her sister-in-law’s belly looked high and tight. Good. As long as it didn’t suddenly drop lower, they still had time.

      The server delivered their check. “Anything else I can get you, ladies?”

      “No, thank you,” Aiyana said, then put her head down and took another deep breath.

      This contraction was only five minutes from the last one and forty-five seconds long.

      Wendy stood and hiked her thumb toward the bathroom. “My turn.”

      The minute the door closed behind her, she was on the phone to her brother Ned.

      “Hello?” his deep baritone answered.

      “Hey, bud. It’s your little sis.”

      “Hey.” The sounds of a busy garage buzzed in the background. “What’s up?”

      “I think your wife’s in labor. The contractions are coming five to six minutes apart and—well, the last one was forty-five seconds.”

      Ned’s tone shifted from jovial to nervous in one second flat. “That close?”

      “Yep. She’s claiming they’re Braxton Hicks and guzzling water like there’s no tomorrow. I’m bringing her in to Anchorage Mercy just in case. I’ll call you when we get to the hospital and we’ll meet you in the ER.”

      “Uh, okay,” Ned said, his voice strained. “Good thing we got the nursery