Extended Epilogue
Fox
Three weeks after the wedding in Leavenworth, I rushed through the hospital doors with Natalia at my side, arms full of balloons, flowers, and a bag of take-out sushi. My skin still held the sun-kissed tan from our honeymoon in Bora Bora.
We had just stepped off the plane, still wearing the relaxed, sun-soaked look of a couple who had spent the last two weeks fucking in paradise. But any semblance of relaxation disappeared the moment we saw our phones flooded with texts and missed calls from Wilder.
“Are you ready for this?” Natalia asked, glancing at me with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
“No.” I laughed. “But it’s not me that needs to be ready. It’s Wilder. That guy is going to have his hands full.”
“What would you do if we had triplets?” she asked.
“Die.”
She giggled as we kept walking.
Three tiny, fragile babies. Triplets. All I could think over the past eight months was poor Christa. She looked so uncomfortable every time I saw her, like she might topple over from the sheer weight of it all. But she radiated happiness, so much joy that it lit up every room she entered.
And three babies. I thought one was stressful. A blessing but also terrifying and, frankly, smelly sometimes. Baby shit could be ripe. Good thing they were so cute.
I didn’t know how Wilder was keeping it together. I would absolutely be losing my mind.
I turned to Natalia as we reached the elevator. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I admitted.
She squeezed my arm, giving me that calm, reassuring smile she had perfected. “You’re going to be the best uncle,” she said. “And besides, it’s too late to back out now. They are kind of here. I don’t think there is a return policy. Not to mention, they aren’t actually your babies. I think Wilder and Christa would take issue with you rejecting them.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s do this.”
We stepped off the elevator and made our way down the hallway, past nurses who barely gave us a second glance. The maternity ward was buzzing with the sound of new life, and the energy of the place was electric. We reached the door to Christa’s room, and for a second, I hesitated, taking a deep breath.
Natalia gave me a playful nudge. “Are you going to stand there all day, or are we going in?”
I walked over to a sanitizer dispenser and squeezed a dollop in my palm. I had washed my hands several times and used my elbow to push the button in the elevator. I was probably sterile enough to go into surgery at this point.
“Now, I’m ready,” I said.
I pushed open the door with my butt, still not touching anything with my clean hands. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut. Christa was sitting up in bed, looking exhausted but glowing with a kind of happiness I’d never seen on her before. Natalia immediately burst into happy tears and pushed me out of the way as she rushed forward, wrapping Christa in a careful hug.
“Oh my God, Christa,” Natalia said, her voice choked with emotion. “You did it. You really did it.”
Christa laughed, a tired but genuine sound. “I did it,” she agreed, pulling back to wipe at her eyes.
I made my way over to Wilder, who looked like he hadn’t slept in days but was grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, dad,” I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, Uncle Fox,” he replied, pulling me into a hug. It was brief but full of all the unspoken things we never said to each other. Pride, relief, gratitude.
Then I saw them. Three tiny, swaddled bundles in the bassinets beside the bed. They were the smallest babies I’d ever seen, barely more than a handful each. Two boys and a girl, like Wilder and me, but with one little sister to keep them in line.
“They’re finally here,” Wilder said, his voice filled with awe. “Can you believe it?”
I shook my head, still staring at the babies. “No, I can’t. They’re perfect. Christa, you are an absolute trooper.”
Christa gave a weary smile and nodded. “It wasn’t easy but look at them. Worth every second of discomfort.”
Natalia was already by the bassinets, peering down at them with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Oh, they’re so beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to gently touch one of the boys’ tiny fists.
Christa beamed. “We’re still working on names. Naming three humans is a lot harder than we thought.”
“You don’t say,” I teased, crouching down to get a better look at them.
“We’ve been debating a few options,” Wilder added. “I really want to name one of the boys Sam.”
“Sam Samuelson?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”
“What’s wrong with Sam Samuelson?” Wilder shot back, feigning offense.
“It sounds like a comic book character,” I said, laughing. “Or a weather reporter. Would his full name be Samuel Samuelson? Even better, will you introduce him as your son, Samuel Samuelson? Try saying that five times fast.”
Natalia tilted her head, giving me a look of disapproval. “I don’t know, I think it has a nice ring to it.”
I shot her a look right back, but she just grinned at me. Christa shook her head, clearly amused. “See? This is what I’ve been dealing with. He’s come up with some of the corniest names.”
“It’s not corny,” Wilder defended. “It’s classic! There’s a difference.”
“But we did decide on her name,” Christa said.
I glanced at the little girl, swaddled in pink, who was currently cradled in Natalia’s arms. “What’s her name?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Natalia looked up at me, her expression soft and filled with a kind of tenderness I’d never seen before. “Hanna,” she said quietly.
I felt a lump form in my throat. I had to clear it before I could speak. “Hanna,” I repeated, testing it out. “That’s a great name.”
Christa nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It was Wilder’s idea. He wanted something simple and strong.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, pushing past the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm me.
“You knew?” I asked Natalia.
She nodded. “They asked if they could use the name just in case we wanted it. I thought it could be a little confusing to name our baby Hanna. You would be talking about your tech and our kid would think you were talking about him or her.”
“I don’t think we would name our boy Hanna,” I said dryly.
“Well, regardless, I think this pretty little thing is a perfect Hanna.”
I turned back to the bassinets. “And what about these two troublemakers? I mean, clearly not Sam, but any other options?”
Wilder sighed dramatically. “Nope. The great name debate continues.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Christa said, giving her husband a reassuring smile. “Eventually.”
“Maybe before you take them home,” I joked. “Are you going to start calling them Thing One and Thing Two?”
“Very funny,” Wilder said.
“But it might come to that,” Christa added, chuckling. “Or maybe just Alpha and Beta for now.”
Natalia laughed, adjusting Hanna in her arms. “I think those are good placeholder names. Gives them a sort of mystique.”
I smiled at the babies, each of their faces scrunched in the cozy warmth of their swaddles. “They’re perfect,” I said.
We stayed for a while longer, passing the babies around, marveling at how small they were, how perfect. Natalia looked at ease with Hanna in her arms, like she was made for this. Watching her, I felt a rush of love so strong it almost knocked me off my feet. This was our life now. We were building something real, something lasting, and I couldn’t wait to see where it led us.
“We should go,” I said when I caught Christa yawning.
“Just think, this is going to be you pretty soon,” Wilder said.
I laughed and shook my head. “Oh no. We’re doing this one at a time. Let me know if you want me to hire you a nanny or five.”
“We’ll be fine,” Christa said. “But we will be relying on you guys to help babysit.”
“Anytime,” Natalia said.
“I’ll watch Samuel Samuelson,” I said seriously. “He’s going to need extra help through all the teasing.”
My brother smacked my arm and laughed. “Okay, I get it’s a bad name. I take it back.”
We hugged Wilder and Christa one last time, promising to come back soon. Natalia and I walked back through the hospital, hand in hand. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened settle into my bones.
“You okay?” Natalia asked, glancing up at me.
“Yeah,” I said, pulling her close. “I’m more than okay. I’m so happy for my brother. And Christa. I know they fought so hard to build their family.”
“Thanks to you, they were able to do that,” she said.
We made our way to the car. I opened the door for her. As soon as we were on the road, I could tell something was on her mind. She’d been quiet, almost contemplative, since we left the hospital. I wondered if she was thinking about the babies or what it was going to be like when our own baby arrived.
“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing over at her. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re thinking really hard about something.”
She hesitated, biting her lip. “I had a doctor’s appointment today,” she said finally.
My heart skipped a beat. Fear rolled through me. We had agreed not to tell anyone about the baby in case things didn’t work out the way we wanted. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come with you.”
“It was just a checkup,” she said quickly. “I didn’t want to worry you. Just pee in a cup and blood pressure stuff.”
“Well?” I prompted, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “How did it go?”
She took a deep breath, then turned to me with a smile. “We’re going to need a bigger house.”
I frowned, glancing at her. “I know. We only have two bedrooms. I was thinking we’d need at least three—”
“Four,” she interrupted, her voice thick with emotion.
I slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road without even thinking. “Four?” I repeated, turning to face her fully. “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “Twins,” she choked out, laughing through her tears. “We’re having twins.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I just stared at her, the reality of it crashing over me like a tidal wave. I had been terrified just seconds earlier. Worried she was going to tell me there was no baby. And now she was telling me there were two.
I pulled her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “This is what you get for marrying a twin with a family history of multiples.”
She laughed, a sound that was pure joy. “Don’t apologize,” she said, pulling back to look at me. “This is perfect. This is everything I ever wanted.”
I kissed her, right there in the middle of traffic, with cars honking behind us. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything except this woman and the incredible life we were building together.
“You know we’re going to be outnumbered if this keeps happening, right?” I said, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes.
“I know,” she said, her smile softening. “But I think we can handle it.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pressing my forehead to hers. “I think we can, too.”
We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the whole world falling away. When we finally pulled back onto the road, I felt like I was driving toward the future I’d always dreamed of but never thought I’d have.
This time next year, there would be four of us. And I couldn’t wait.
“Two is good,” I said. “Two is really good.”
“I thought you might like that,” she said with a laugh.
Like was an understatement. I was over the moon, floating somewhere among the stars. Two little lives growing inside her, two little futures to nurture and dream for.
As we drove home, my mind raced with plans—nurseries, diapers, everything. “We should start thinking about names,” I said suddenly. “We don’t want to be like Wilder and Christa. Sam Samuelson’s cousins will have strong names.”
She laughed and squeezed my forearm. “Deal.”