29. Saturday, September 29, 2012
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2012
T he twins came home from the hospital at the end of September, and the following weekend, Julia got to really see and hold them for the first time. Even though they were already two months old, they looked like actual newborns, since it was only two weeks past their original due date.
“I always forget how tiny they are,” Julia murmured after Pilar finished nursing Ximé and gently handed her over. Ximé’s lids were already sinking as she descended into a milk coma.
“When they were born, I was almost afraid to touch them,” Pilar commented. “Their little fingers were so tiny and almost see-through, like fish bones. I was afraid I’d snap them.”
William was stretched out on the couch in the Ochoa-Quinns’ living room, head resting on a throw pillow at one end, calves propped on the armrest at the other so his bare feet dangled comically. Zuri, the smaller twin, had long since finished her meal. William had promptly scooped her up, and now Zuri was passed out on his chest, her bud-shaped lips forming a tiny O. William looked terrified to move, and Julia chuckled when he shot her an uncertain look – a silent am I doing it right?
Julia answered with a tiny nod. Her ovaries practically throbbed at just how right he was do ing it. What was it about watching a big, strong, sexy man cuddle a tiny, helpless infant? It almost made her want to go back on her pledge to have no more babies. Almost.
Of course, nothing could persuade her to subject herself again to hyperemesis gravidarum, but her heart still ached with something like regret. They would never marvel together over those first ultrasounds. He would never coach her on her breathing, or wipe her forehead in the delivery room, or cry the first time he held his very own child.
Kelly, passing through from the kitchen, dragged Julia out of her daze. “They’re here,” she whispered, holding up her phone screen by way of explanation.
“Don’t worry; I already warned Alison to keep it down,” Julia whispered back, not adding that she wasn’t sure Alison was capable of lowering her volume. But when the front door swung open to near-total silence, Julia breathed a sigh of relief.
And then she drew a quiet gasp when Mike appeared at the top of the stairs behind Alison. He looked completely different than he had just three months ago, in June. He was almost back to a healthy weight, and his hair was growing back full and dark.
He also looked completely different than he had six years ago, when he was still in the throes of addiction. Of course, colorful and occasionally obscene tattoos still wrapped every inch of exposed skin from his neck down. He still wore a hoop in one nostril, as well as gauge piercings in his earlobes. But he wasn’t shifting back and forth with his head on a swivel, like a squirrel on speed; and his black Dead Kennedys tee-shirt and jeans were relatively tame, compared to his historical uniform of silver-studded leather and ripped denim with chains.
His eyes landed immediately on William, and they exchanged tight nods and faint smiles. Then he caught Julia studying him, and Alison weaved her arm through his with a supportive squeeze. He smiled at Julia and mouthed hello, but it wasn’t his signature wolfish leer from the past. Julia returned it with a wave and her own friendly smile.
Mike plopped down on a nearby armchair and gently tugged Alison’s hand, urging her into his lap. She sat on him at an angle, crossing one knee over the other, and slid her arm around his shoulders. He rested his palm on her thigh, just above her knee; and to Julia’s amazement, they looked a t each other with something like tenderness. Julia had never seen either of them like this. Julia would have offered Mike a chance to hold Ximé, but for now at least, his arms were full.
At that moment, Zach and Robert tiptoed upstairs with Kelly, whispering excitedly. They crowded around Julia, then William, admiring each baby in turn. Kelly returned to the kitchen to finish dinner, but Pilar lingered in the living room, closely supervising like the first-time mom she was.
Ten minutes later, Kelly announced dinner, and while Robert gently stroked Ximé’s black curls, Julia searched the room, frowning. “Where’s Paige?”
Robert shrugged as if to say, I am not my sister’s keeper . So Julia gently handed Ximé off to Pilar, then went to check on her own daughter.
Downstairs, she found the den empty, so she slid the patio door open. Her eyes snagged on a flicker of movement in the rear of the yard. The lot was narrow but deep, so she had to squint a little; but what she saw had her stopping short in her tracks, acid leaping into her throat.
She only caught the tail end, but she thought she saw Paige and Xavier spring apart from each other. Despite that, they still sat very, very close – hip-to-hip, in fact – in a patch of clover. They leaned back against the wooden fence, Paige staring over Xavier’s shoulder at his phone screen, and it seemed like they were trying very hard to pretend they had been doing that the whole time.
All at once, Julia had two simultaneous epiphanies: first, they were both objectively good-looking kids. And second, although they were still kids, they weren’t kids – they were thirteen. Xavier was technically younger than Paige, but he was tall and looked considerably older. Historically-speaking, Paige had a weakness for older boys.
Whatever Julia had glimpsed, it was fleeting. Still, as she approached, she resolved to keep a close eye on them.
“Hey guys? Dinner,” she called out, just as Kelly and William came downstairs with the first of the serving dishes. As she brushed past William, she whispered, “Keep an eye on those two, will you?”
He shot her a startled look before Julia swept into the house to help serve .
Throughout the meal, Paige and Xavier stayed glued to each other, in their own little bubble; but honestly, there was nothing to see here. Julia knew those two had hit it off as good friends, right from the very start; so she let her guard down. Besides, it was funny to watch Mike get acquainted with his nieces. Alison openly giggled at the panicked look on Mike's face as he gingerly accepted Ximé from her arms.
“She won’t crumble to dust,” Alison teased. “She's a baby, not an ancient artifact.”
“Shut up,” he retorted with a good-natured grin, and to Julia’s astonishment, he actually blushed as his eyes snagged on Alison's.
After Alison coached him on how to cradle Ximé in a football hold, Mike’s eyes lifted again to hers, seeking reassurance. She lit up in an answering smile, and they leaned in for a tender kiss.
Julia's sister had long-since made a steadfast vow of childlessness, though certainly not of chastity; so Julia felt pretty sure that’s not what this was about. Suddenly, an epiphany bowled Julia over with the wonder of it: this was love, crackling between Alison and Mike. Not just mutual regard. Not just friends with benefits. Not even mere affection.
Love .
And okay – a little lust, too, for good measure. This, Julia acknowledged as their tongues tangled shamelessly for all the world to see. It was Alison and Mike, after all.