Chapter 47
"Bed rest doesn't mean 'work from bed,'" Alek said, eyeing the laptop, three tablets, and stacks of reports surrounding Emma like a paper fortress.
"It absolutely does," Emma countered, not looking up from her screen. "Dr. Winters said physical rest, not brain death."
Two weeks after discovering her pregnancy, Emma had experienced light spotting—nothing serious, according to her doctor, but enough to warrant precautionary bed rest. What was supposed to be a two-day restriction had stretched to two weeks as her blood pressure remained stubbornly elevated.
"The team has survived without direct Mitchell oversight before," Alek reminded her, setting a glass of water on her nightstand. "It can manage a few weeks."
"Easy for you to say," Emma grumbled. "You get to leave the house."
Alek's expression softened. "I know this is difficult—"
"It's infuriating," Emma corrected. "I'm not sick. I'm pregnant. Women have been doing this since the beginning of time without being treated like invalids."
"Women with high-risk pregnancies follow medical advice," Alek countered gently. "Even powerful, brilliant women who run hockey franchises."
Emma sighed, knowing he was right but hating it nonetheless. "Any news on the Katie situation?"
They'd informed their surrogate of Emma's unexpected pregnancy the day after confirming it with Dr. Winters. Katie had been genuinely thrilled for them, agreeing to pause the surrogacy process while maintaining open communication about future possibilities.
"She sent flowers," Alek gestured to the bright arrangement on Emma's dresser. "And says to tell you she's still available if needed, no pressure either way."
"She's remarkable," Emma said sincerely. "Most surrogates would be frustrated by the uncertainty."
"Most surrogates aren't Katie," Alek agreed, checking his watch. "I need to go. Board meeting at eleven."
"Tell them I expect full reports," Emma instructed. "And remind Peterson the community outreach budget needs approval today."
"Yes, boss," Alek said with fond exasperation, leaning down to kiss her. "Try to actually rest today? For me?"
"For the baby," Emma corrected, placing his hand on her still-flat stomach. "Not for you."
"I'll take what I can get." His smile faded slightly. "Franklin's nurse called. His blood pressure was elevated this morning, so they canceled his therapy session."
Emma frowned. "Did they call Dr. Singh?"
"Already handled," Alek assured her. "Just thought you should know."
After he left, Emma tried to focus on quarterly projections, but worry about her grandfather kept intruding. Since her pregnancy and subsequent bed rest, she'd been unable to visit him daily as had become her habit. Their video calls, while frequent, weren't the same as being there to see his condition firsthand.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Lisa, the team's PR director: Media inquiring about your absence from last three public events. Statement needed ASAP.
Emma groaned. She'd hoped to keep her pregnancy private until at least the twelve-week mark, but her sudden disappearance from team functions was causing speculation.
Temporary health matter, nothing serious, she replied. Working remotely for a few weeks on doctor's recommendation.
Lisa's response came quickly: Vague health issues invite worse speculation than the truth. Recommend controlled announcement before rumors start.
Before Emma could reply, her phone rang—Walter's ringtone.
"Everything okay?" she asked immediately.
"Mr. Mitchell insists on speaking with you," Walter said, sounding strained. "He's being quite... emphatic."
Franklin's voice came through before Emma could respond. "Emmy, this is ridiculous. I'm perfectly capable of coming to you if you can't come to me."
"Grandpa, your doctor said—"
"My doctor says many things, most of which I ignore," Franklin interrupted. "I haven't seen my granddaughter in two weeks. It's unacceptable."
"I'm on bed rest," Emma reminded him. "Doctor's orders."
"Precisely my point." Franklin's tone turned crafty. "We're both restricted by overzealous medical professionals. The logical solution is to consolidate our confinement."
Emma frowned. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm moving in with you and Aleksander," Franklin announced. "Walter's already packing my things."
"Grandpa, that's not necessary—"
"It's entirely necessary," Franklin insisted. "Your husband leaves you alone all day while you're carrying my great-grandchild. Meanwhile, I'm surrounded by nurses who treat me like I'm made of glass. This arrangement benefits everyone."
"Alek and I haven't discussed—"
"I've already spoken to him," Franklin interrupted again. "He agrees it's sensible."
Emma made a mental note to have a serious conversation with her husband about consulting her before making household decisions.
"When exactly is this move happening?" she asked, already recognizing defeat.
"The cars are being loaded as we speak," Franklin replied with satisfaction. "See you for lunch."