Beth Quartermaine buckled Kensington's feet into the little black patent leather shoes. Her baby had become a toddler! A toddler who was still quite happy to be carried, but still a toddler. So, she scooped her daughter up and went off in search of her husband who had been in the midst of a pretty intense conversation when she had left their bedroom suite to finish getting Kensi ready for church. She had thought he was talking to his cousin Celia which normally wouldn't be intense, but she supposed after Marla had nearly died at the Shareholder's Dinner maybe everything had to be a little intense.

When she entered their bedroom, she gently set Kensington on one of the wing chairs in their sitting area and handed her a toy cell phone. Once she was happily babbling away, Beth turned to Mark. "I'm not going to ask if everything is ok, because that seems like a very naïve question but is there something that Celia needed us to do for Hugh Lars or Marla?" she asked.

Mark adjusted the Windsor knot on his tie. "Marla went into some kind of heart block overnight. Monica put in a transvenous pacemaker, so I guess the immediate crisis has been resolved but things do not look good," he said.

"I'm sorry. That sounds so inadequate," Beth said. She let her voice trail off uncertain what else to say.

Mark didn't say anything. He just pulled her into his arms and held on tightly.

XXXXXXXX

Carly Ashton sat at her dressing table brushing out her blonde curls which required so much more effort than she had ever imagined it could. She would only be thirty-one weeks on Monday. The idea of at least nine more weeks struggling to brush her hair, breathe, or even sit upright for any period of time seemed impossible. She couldn't even imagine how she would survive that. But then another thought struck her, what if she couldn't and something happened to the baby? Overwhelmed she dropped her head into her hands on the smooth surface of her vanity. "Oh God, please give me strength. Let our baby be ok," she whispered.

XXXXXXXX

Ned Ashton heard Carly's whispered prayer as he came back into their bedroom suite. For a minute he wondered if he was intruding but then he heard sobs, so he went to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Shh honey, I'm right here," he said.

Carly picked up her head and then wiped at her eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm sorry this pregnancy is so hard. None of that is your fault though and I know you're trying so hard. Perhaps it would be better if we stayed home from church this morning. That would give you a chance to rest more," Ned said.

Carly shook her head. "No, I really want to go!" she said.

Ned wasn't sure exactly what to make of that. Perhaps he was just meant to go with it. Perhaps Carly had found faith she hadn't realized she had. Or perhaps she was desperately clinging to anything that might help their baby. In a way both concepts were a bit bittersweet, but both also gave him even more respect for his wife. "Ok, we'll go then. I know you said you weren't hungry earlier, but did you want to try a little juice or milk at least?"

Carly's face seemed to pale at the mention of food. "I could try some milk. I know I need to eat something. I'm just still very nauseous," she said.

"I was afraid of that. Do you want me to call Dr. Meadows and see if there is anything she can prescribe for that?" Ned asked as he gave Carly's shoulder's a squeeze.

"Your aunt said none of those medications were really tested in pregnancy so maybe it's better if you don't. I'll try to drink the milk," Carly said.

"Ok," Ned agreed. But as they started downstairs his heart broke a little more for his wife.

XXXXXXXX

Melissa McKee-Murdoch released a frustrated sigh as she attempted to wrap tissue around the parts of Tom Kitten and Benjamin Bunny that projected out of the oversized gift bag. Why had her husband thought any baby would want a three-foot-tall stuffed animal, let alone two towering stuffed animals? Why were even the oversized gift bags too small? Why had she been invited to Carly Ashton's baby shower? The last question was probably the best one, and perhaps the source of most of her frustration.

On the surface the invite made sense. She and Carly attended the same church and were in the same women's bible study. Their husbands were friends; Ned had even been the best man at her wedding to Chase. Beneath the surface, everything was messier, murkier; part of her wanted to hate Carly because of everything she had done to Bobbie. Another part of her had compassion for everything Carly had been through with the pregnancy. So where did that leave her? She was still contemplating that, as she made another attempt to tuck the tissue paper in, when Chase came into the family room.

"They don't fit in the bag?" Chase asked a bit incredulously.

"Not exactly. Perhaps you should have gotten something a little smaller," Melissa said as she pushed the edges of the tissue paper into the bag. It was the best she could do. At least from a wrapping standpoint. Attending the shower was a different order entirely.

"My mom mentioned they were using a Beatrix Potter theme for the nursery. I think Beth told her or something," Chase said. As if somehow a Beatrix Potter nursery theme justified a stuffed animal taller than most three-year-olds.

"So is your mother getting them the Squirrel Nutkin and Jemima Puddleduck statues?" Melissa asked. She hadn't thought of that, but it would fit. Chase had had his own Beatrix Potter nursery and had apparently been Tom Kitten for Halloween when he was three.

"I think she had them delivered directly by Wyndham's which in retrospect is what I guess I should have done as well," Chase said. He blushed slightly.

Chase's humility was incredibly sexy in a way Melissa couldn't really explain. "Yeah, you should have!" she said.

"Because then you wouldn't be wrestling with gift bags or because then you could just send a gift and not attend?" Chase asked.

"Honestly? Both! Unfortunately, you didn't, and I don't have time to mess with this anymore or we will be late for church. So, I guess you can figure out how to get that bag into the car without dislodging my wrapping and we'll call it even," Melissa said.

XXXXXXXX

Theoretically Chase Murdoch III knew that his wife was going to grab her coat so they could leave for church services at Trinity Episcopal Church. Despite that, she seemed frustrated, and he was smart enough to know that it had very little do with the gift he had selected. Normally he wanted to believe they could talk through that but since most of Missy's issues with Carly involved Bobbie Spencer, he didn't see that conversation going well. Conversations regarding Bobbie never had in the past.

July 19, 1996

Chase Murdoch followed his wife into the Dominique Stanton Memorial Garden after she fled the reception after Dr. Steve Hardy's Memorial Service. "I'm sorry, I know this is a huge loss for you, for all of General Hospital really," he said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Melissa stiffened in his embrace. "Maybe your mother is right, and I really am going to hell!" she said.

Chase wasn't sure how to respond to that. He knew that things were often awkward between Melissa and his mom. He didn't really believe his mother had ever said, or even suggested that Missy was going to hell, but he sensed he wasn't meant to refute that point in the moment. "Talk to me, I want to understand. I want to help," he said.

"You're sweet, but maybe I'm just too selfish because instead of honoring a truly great man, I'm having a tantrum because Bobbie is ignoring me," Melissa said.

"Perhaps she is just overwhelmed with the loss," Chase suggested.

"Perhaps…," Melissa said wistfully.

They had gone back inside then. They hadn't discussed it further but like so many things it had a way of coming back.

XXXXXXXX

Dr. Monica Quartermaine pulled the top of her hair back into a barrette and then brushed out the ends a little more as her husband joined her in the en-suite bathroom of their owner's suite. "Did you come up to warn me that your father is about to start bellowing below about limo departures?" she asked.

"I'm sure he is but I really just needed a moment with my wife before we tackle the next crisis or catastrophe," Alan said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her close to him.

"Are you referring to church or Carly's baby shower?" Monica asked as she turned her head to look at him.

"I'd love to say neither, as in neither will turn into a catastrophic crisis…"

"But you realize we're Quartermaines and that is statistically unlikely?" Monica asked.

"Something like that. Plus, we have to wedge Sunday Brunch in between a 10:30 Church Service and a 2:30 Baby Shower," Alan said.

"That too, so perhaps I'll just look for you when the smoke clears," Monica said.

"Or you could just kiss me now," Alan said with a wink.

Their lips came together in a moment of bliss. Downstairs the bellowing began.