Naomi was in her third trimester. Months ago when she and Tamar were celebrating their new beginnings they were creating a new life. The fertility treatments provided by SimsCorp at the beginning of the Wonderchild trials was so potent that several years later and at 45 no less she was carrying her second child.
It was to be a girl. Mason was a rambunctious tyke climbing on things and swinging from high places, Naomi hoped the little girl would be interested in quiet activities like coloring and reading. It was Tamar’s birthday he would be turning 50.
The couple would look back on the day fondly, Naomi worked quietly in the kitchen. She’d been stirring cake batter when she felt the familiar tug, the rush of liquid seeped through her linen pants. This time they’d been prepared. Tamar was in the car before she even felt her second contraction.
Tamara Hollister was born on her father’s birthday. As he aged into an elder, she started her life as the youngest child and the newest edition of their little clan.
Naomi and Tamar were pleased with themselves. They’d managed to have two lovely children. The scientist at SimsCorp were happy to hear of a second child so long as Mason remained the primary focus. He’d be a teenager soon, the formidable years were approaching.