Tuesday, early morning; Golding Memorial Trust Hospital; Sasha and Manuel Temminck III
It was a little daughter, and it was all over finally, and life was promising to be perfect. Maude had been and gone, and smiled when they told her the little one would be Nastasia -- no more M. Temminck!
It was a sunny private room, nicely furnished, full of flowers and gifts, and the happiness of the little family was, for one moment, perfect.
But of course, it couldn't last. It would be nice if it could have, but the Temmincks weren't the sort of people who had normal lives, and neither was Sasha. Plus, of course, they lived where they did - and there was the ever-malignant spectre of Galenka, hovering over Sasha's shoulder and cackling in soundless glee at her machinations. For she had been hard at work. The fruits of her labours came to fruition as fast as she could have hoped - and with explosive results.
The explosive results took the shape of a sweet blonde with a long braid of hair and an expression of permanent happiness. You could see, right away, that the years of being a neonatal expert in a hospital had done nothing to dim the wonder. "Good afternoon!" she said. "I'm Dr. Sandberg. I'm -- well, actually, this is a bit embarrassing. You remember the amniocentesis we did early on to exclude trisomy 21 and the like?"
Sasha looked up at the Doctor from the precious bundle in her arms, and her face immediately took on an expression of panic. The woman might be a wonder at hiding her own thoughts and feelings - but that didn't work with someone like Sasha.
"What is it?" She asked, quietly, wanting to scream but not wanting to wake up her Nastasia.
"Well," the doctor said, "you said you didn't want to know what it was, as long as it was healthy. So we didn't tell you, but we had the results, of course. And when I entered the data from her first post-natal examinations I found that the amnio had said she'd be a boy."
"But that sort of thing can be wrong, can't it?" Sasha asked, knowing what the answer would be. She just didn't want to hear it.
"Could be that the sample was contaminated," the doctor said. "But it could be -- well, all sorts of odd things. From a dead fraternal twin to some rare disorder in gender assignment. We'd have to take more tests. I mean, it's simple to say, what you see is what you get -- but medicine isn't that easy."
That was when Manny got to his feet. "I've got a lovely little daughter!" he said. "I've seen her! She is perfect! So why do you have to worry everybody and spread uncertainty, eh?"
Sasha put her free hand on his hip, patting him.
"Manny, it's okay. I'm sure they can just do a simple test, and then it's all over, and we don't have to worry." That, or they would know for sure - and that would be better than wondering, and maybe having something terrible come to light when their angel was older.
"We'll need to do the tests soon," Dr. Sandberg said. "You may have to take some decisions, and the sooner you take them, the easier they will be to deal with. We'd like to collect her tomorrow morning when you get your breakfast, Mrs. Temminck; she'll be back with you after lunchtime."
Sasha took a deep breath, and nodded, looking down into her daughter's - no, her baby's, not daughter until she knew for sure - into her baby's face, stroking one finger over her cheek.
"You might want to delay naming her or getting her birth certificate until then," the doctor added. "Rather than going through the bureaucratic and social hassle of changing anything."
Sasha swallowed. It was all so very. . . real. She nodded again, and leaned on Manny, his solid strength beside her something she really needed right then. If there was anything wrong. . .
"It'll be all right," Manny said. "It would be sad if there was a little boy as well, and he didn't make it. But that happens. And we have her!" It was clear which flavour of unpleasantness he'd prefer. Very clear.
"Yes. . ." Said Sasha, wanting to bring up the other possibility. . . but she didn't need to, not yet. Perhaps they wouldn't have to have that conversation at all.
And Manny was determined not to have to have it. Not about his lovely little daughter!