Page 20 of Ending the Game

“No,” Em snaps. “Don’t call them. I just want you guys and Jessie. Please don’t call my parents tonight.”

“Whatever you want, Emmie. We’ve got you,” Jack soothes his sister as he pulls up in front of the hospital, his breaks squealing as he throws the door open and commandeers a wheelchair.

* * *

It’s a long night for all of us. Emerson oscillates between crying hysterically that the baby can’t be coming the same day she buried Linc and begging for the baby to come, so this can all be over. I’m not sure I’ll ever regain the feeling in my fingers again after the way she crushed my hand during her labor. But she does it.

Finally, with tears streaming down her face and her gut-wrenching cries filling the room, Emerson gives birth to the most beautiful baby girl I’ve ever seen.

A little after six in the morning, Elodie Madden-Alexander is born, screaming at the top of her lungs. And as if she already knows she comes from rock royalty, even her cries sound like the prettiest song I’ve ever heard.

“You did it, Em.” I wipe her face with a damp cloth. “You did it, and she’s beautiful.”

She’s tiny, barely over six pounds, with eyes so blue, they look purple, just like her momma’s. Soft jet-black hair is sticking out in every direction when the nurse tries to hand her to Em, but she shakes her head no and closes her eyes.

I open my arms instead, and the nurse places her small bundled body into them. And even though I know, logically, she can’t really make out my face just yet, I feel like this tiny little girl is staring into my soul.

At that moment, I make her a silent promise that Auntie Carys will always be there for her, no matter what.

I settle into a chair next to Em’s bed, holding a sleeping Elodie, who’s wrapped up like a baby burrito in a white hospital blanket with a big pink bow wrapped around her little head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hold her, Em?”

She looks at me with empty eyes and shakes her head. “I just want to sleep, CC.”

“Okay. I’ve got her. You rest.” We’re definitely going to have to speak to someone about her depression. Em rolls to her side and pulls the blanket up.

I sit quietly watching Elodie sleep until Jack comes in, having snuck past the nurses. He takes one look at the beautiful newborn resting in my arms and steals her from me, whispering, “Go get yourself something to drink, CC. I won’t go anywhere.” He holds his hand up. “Scout’s honor.”

“Like you were ever a boy scout,” I whisper.

He tips his head and runs a gentle finger down Elodie’s nose. “Yeah... that sure as fuck wasn’t happening. Now go. Let me get to know my niece before I have to leave for two weeks.” He sits down on the arm of the chair. “I never thought I’d be pissed about going on tour, but I’m worried about leaving her.”

“Don’t be. I’ve got her. Take your shot, Jack Madden. Show the whole damn world how incredible Six Day War is. But promise me I get a private preview of your set with the whole band before you leave. I need to meet your new singer.” Emerson told me she loved the singer they found after I left, and I’ve been dying to hear them since. “Want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nope. I’m good. Thanks.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the sleeping baby, and I don’t blame him. She’s everything.

The hum of the hospital relaxes me as I walk through the maze of corridors in search of the cafeteria. Following a sign, I turn down a hall and see Jessie coming toward me in pink scrubs and matching Crocs. She squeals.

“Well? Did she have the baby? I’ve been stuck in surgery all night and haven’t had the chance to check in.” She grabs both my hands, and I wince.

“She did. A baby girl named Elodie Madden-Alexander.”

Her face softens. “Linc would have loved that.”

“Yeah. I think he would have. Em’s sleeping, but Jack’s up there with her now, if you want to stop in.”

“Thanks. Did you see the guys? They were here for a few hours, but Ford texted they were going home around two a.m. We’ll have to let them know she had the baby.” Jessie claps her hands with excitement, and I yawn in contrast.

“Let me get some caffeine before you make me deal with anyone else, okay?” My stomach growls as if on command, and Jessie laughs at me.

“Get a muffin too. They’re delicious.” She hugs me to her. “I’ll talk to you later. Text if you need anything.” She walks away, and I’m left wondering where the heck she gets her endless energy from, as I step into the cafeteria.

After grabbing a tea and a blueberry muffin the size of my head, I sit at a table and pull my phone out to check my messages.

One from Daphne, two from Chloe, and one from Mom.

Everyone wants to know if I’m okay after the funeral.

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