After a little over a month, Sarah still has a way to go on her recovery. She feels stiff, slower and not quite on balance, but it doesn't seem to matter, with her daughter in her arms. The girl is six weeks old, growing every day, and hardly ever out of her mother's arms.
With the girl propped on her shoulder, Sarah walks into the kitchen and smiles, both at Lily and the man that very likely saved her life. "Watch yourself, Emmy. You'll get burned and give your mum a heart attack."
"Not gonna get burned," says Emmy, showing her Auntie Sarah how well she's standing back and being sensible while Mum's cooking. Mum and Dad have rules about how close she can stand when they're doing that. She beams up at Sarah and the baby.
"Are you? What kind of cookies?" she asks, pulling out a chair and sinking into it so that Emmy could get a better look at the baby. It has been a relatively quiet morning, which was still a bit rare.
She might have come a bit early, but Harriet was born with an impressive set of lungs.
"Oatmeal," says Emmy, dusting her floury hands together, flexing her fingers. She studies Harry for a long moment and then reaches out and touches the top of her head very gently.
Okay. That's all he could think, at first. Okay. Paul Helinski was holding a baby, which wasn't strange at all. He was an obstetric surgeon, for Christ sakes, but for reasons he didn't really want to think about, Tom paused in the doorway, frozen for a moment or two, then he blinked, moving forward and grinning crookedly at his -- God, what were they, anyway?
"I think if he was mine, you, of all people, would know about it, Tom," says Paul, ruefully, shifting Dylan's weight in his arms and turning his face up to grin at Tom. "He's not even one I delivered. This is Dylan. He's Lily's kid."
Paul nods across the kitchen, indicating the blond woman and baby.
Dylan's a pretty cheerful baby, but he grins particularly when Tom takes his hand.
"Guess he likes you, dude," says Paul, grinning himself as Emmy waves back and bounces over. "And, yeah. Lil and me are talking about maybe having a clinic hour in her office."
For a moment, Paul forgets himself, but he catches himself at the last moment, mindful of the baby in his arms. He stares at Rachel, just standing there in the doorway like she's never been gone. He missed her, he knew he missed her, but he didn't really become aware of how much until he saw her.
He pushes up out of his chair, Dylan securely balanced on one hip.
"Yeah, fine," she says dismissively, offering a small smile as she walks over to him. She knows her face still looks pretty jacked, but she's fine. She's pretty sure there were a lot of people a lot worse off. "Got back kind of late yesterday and slept late this morning. It was, you know. Dinosaurs. Totally fu...screwed up," she finishes, having finally gotten the hang of the babies no cursing thing.
"Sit down," orders Paul, gesturing at the seat beside him and kicking it out with one foot. He blinks up at her. "Let me look at your face. You've been to the clinic, right?"
"Emily Iris," said Eddie sternly from the end of the counter, "I hope you're not even thinking about touching that stove, young lady."
She'd been in the kitchen since before she could walk, so she'd had it pretty well drilled into her what was safe to play with and what wasn't, but she was just getting to that age where she was starting to think she could do grown-up things herself, and with her mother's attention divided Eddie didn't want her to take advantage of the situation.
"I can see that you are," said Eddie, though he could sort of smell it more than he could see it, seeing how they were still mostly blocked from his view by people and smaller people and babies. "What part did you do?"
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With the girl propped on her shoulder, Sarah walks into the kitchen and smiles, both at Lily and the man that very likely saved her life. "Watch yourself, Emmy. You'll get burned and give your mum a heart attack."
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"We're making cookies!" she announces.
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She might have come a bit early, but Harriet was born with an impressive set of lungs.
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"Is she sleepy?"
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"That isn't yours, is it?"
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Paul nods across the kitchen, indicating the blond woman and baby.
"She was the midwife on Sarah's delivery."
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"Okay, yeah, the one you were going to talk to about the whole clinic thing, right?" he said, turning to give the woman and little girl a wave.
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"Guess he likes you, dude," says Paul, grinning himself as Emmy waves back and bounces over. "And, yeah. Lil and me are talking about maybe having a clinic hour in her office."
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"Did you guys already have babies? That was quick."
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For a moment, Paul forgets himself, but he catches himself at the last moment, mindful of the baby in his arms. He stares at Rachel, just standing there in the doorway like she's never been gone. He missed her, he knew he missed her, but he didn't really become aware of how much until he saw her.
He pushes up out of his chair, Dylan securely balanced on one hip.
"Are you okay?"
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She'd been in the kitchen since before she could walk, so she'd had it pretty well drilled into her what was safe to play with and what wasn't, but she was just getting to that age where she was starting to think she could do grown-up things herself, and with her mother's attention divided Eddie didn't want her to take advantage of the situation.
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"We're making cookies."
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