Chapter 40 As it Should Be
Eva
“They really trust us with them?” I asked.
Two sleeping babies sat in the foyer in car seats. It was our first day home as a family of four. I half-expected them to never let the babies out of the NICU. After three weeks of monitoring and countless sleepless nights worrying, we returned home with them.
“It will be fine, baby.” Davey hung my coat in the hall closet. “They will do great.”
I hoped he was right.
“Let’s get them settled in, Eva.” He picked up the car seats.
We had a baby nurse, but she was in the burbs. She’d asked to start Monday since the boys were released on Friday afternoon as a massive snowstorm barreled into the city. Out of compassion, we didn’t want to call her in to get stranded for four days.
“Go downstairs, then. Settle in. I will change the boys and bring them down. Get whatever you want. And get loads of snacks. You’re right. We’re going to need them.”
“How will you bring them both—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Davey kissed me. “I’ve got this.”
Somehow, I didn’t doubt him. It hadn’t occurred to me that running across the house with two babies would be complicated, but I never had twins living in my house, either.
I plopped on the couch, putting in a delivery request for pizza.
I ordered a delivery from the fancy grocery two blocks away—prepared meals, good cheese, and sweets galore. I added a beer delivery, too.
By the time I was curled under a comfy blanket, Davey approached carrying a laundry basket full of babies.
It made me giggle as he sat them down before me like two little dolls.
They still wore their going-home outfits.
I’d argued these onesies with trains were aggressively masculine, but he insisted girls could like trains, too.
I wouldn’t debate Davey on the matter. Since knowing him, I’d realized how much he loved the Class C 999.
His brother, Derrick, had them made custom as a nod to their father’s love of the Science and Industry Museum’s locomotive.
There was nothing I wanted more than to include Davey’s dad. I knew it meant a lot.
“Davey, what the hell? What is this?”
“I saw our nanny do this once with Dora. I figured it could work. I took the elevator.”
“I forgot we had that. I suppose I should use that more,” I admitted.
“We paid for it.”
“You paid for it.”
“It’s ours,” Davey said. “I will get bottles if you just watch them.”
I leaned over, observing our babies in the laundry basket—awake but quiet.
“What did he do to you?” I cooed. “How did you end up there?”
They stared back. Robbie gave me a face as if this were a personal offense.
Max tried to understand what the light fixture was by the looks of his head tilt.
I didn’t wonder anymore who they were. We knew who each was almost all the time.
And I knew their cries by heart. Max’s cry was more of a dull roar. Robbie’s was a slow wind-up.
Davey returned, setting the bottles down before handing me Max. I plopped a bottle in the younger twin’s mouth. After a little coaxing, he caught on.
“I don’t regret that bottle maker,” Davey said.
“I still feel guilty.”
“Don’t. You’re perfect, Eva. You did a great job. It didn’t work.”
Breastfeeding was a bust. My milk never came in and they never learned to latch. I cried endlessly until both his mother and mine told me to stop. I’d lie if I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy that things came so easily for Daphne and Brooke.
“They’re healthy. That’s what matters,” I said.
“What did you get for dinner?”
“Pizza.”
“Nice. A good choice.”
Robbie loudly sharted.
“How many diapers are we planning on going through? Do we have enough?” I asked.
“We have dozens. A ton. It’s fine. It’s okay. And Walgreens is gonna be open.” He chuckled. “Although, that’s how this whole thing started.”
“They didn’t make the Plan B, Davey.”
“No, but they were out of condoms—except the shitty generics I bought.”
“Generics can work, too. We just got unlucky,” I said.
“Not if they are truly too small. But I wanted you so much, I didn’t think twice. I was desperate for you, Eva. And now look at the result of my impulsive move.”
I looked over at sleepy Robbie, rubbing his head. “It was a wild ride. Not how you thought you’d spend your fortieth birthday, huh?”
“We’ll have the party. I let Mum throw it. I relented.”
It was Davey’s birthday, but he didn’t want a fuss. We planned something for next week to celebrate. While he fought at first, he gave in.
“Having them home is the best gift.” Davey played with Robbie’s little Cubs sock-clad foot. “I never wanted anything more.”
“They’re special. It’s terrifying, but I’m relieved, Davey.”
“Me, too, baby.”
I looked out on the falling snow. “It’s beautiful, you know?”
“It is. A menace tomorrow, but tonight we’ve got peace and quiet and hopefully pizza.”
I rested my head on Davey’s shoulder. I forgot about the world outside. I didn’t worry about how the next eighteen years would go or panic about diapers and how we’d get them to sleep tonight. I focused on how I felt like I was home—here with my whole little world.