Chapter 34
Mason
A nurse comes back with discharge paperwork, and I sign everything without really reading it. My hand moves on autopilot while my brain is still thinking about that ultrasound screen.
Two heartbeats.
Two babies.
Megan’s changing back into her clothes and using the bathroom.
I step out into the hallway for a second, needing air, a quick second to process. My chest feels tight. Not in a bad way, just…full. Too full. Like there’s not enough room for everything I’m feeling.
Joy. Terror. Gratitude. Panic. All at once.
I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
God, I don’t know about twins. The prayer comes out quiet, barely a whisper.
We wanted one. Just one. And You gave us two.
My throat tightens. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Megan’s gonna be great. It’s not her, it’s me. I’m not ready. But I will be. Because God doesn’t ask us to be ready. He asks us to trust.
And we’ve been trusting Him through all of this. Through the negative tests, the tears, the fights, the waiting. We trusted even when it hurt.
I close my eyes and breathe slowly.
I think about my brothers. How they look at their kids like they hung the moon. I think about my parents. How they raised four of us and never once made us feel like we were too much.
I hear the bathroom door open and then, “Mase?” from the other side of the curtain.
I step back into the room. Megan’s slipping her shoes on. She looks tired but also bright and happy.
“Are you okay?” she asks, a small laugh on the end of the question, like she knows I’m stressing already.
“Yeah.” I nod, stepping closer. “I think.”
“I’m scared too,” she says. “But I’m also really happy.”
“Me too. I’m just still processing, I think.” I reach for her and hold her close.
We stand here for a second, just breathing together.
It’s just twins, nothing crazy.
* * *
I wake up to the mattress creaking, Megan slipping out of bed, trying to be quiet.
I prop myself up on one elbow, squinting at the early morning light. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just have to pee, then I’m coming back. Don’t worry.” She smiles. I lay back on my pillow, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, glancing at the time. It’s six a.m.
It’s only been two days since we found out about the twins, and somehow it feels like both five minutes and a lifetime. Thank God it’s Sunday. I don’t think we could keep it from my family much longer.
After church, at lunch…we’ll drop the bomb.
I grin at the ceiling, already picturing their faces. They’re going to think we’re joking. Mom’s gonna wanna know if twins run in Megan’s family. And I know my sisters will cry.
When she comes back, she curls into my side, settling against me, and I pull her closer, my other hand finding her stomach.
Still flat. Still the same. But I know everything’s so much different.
“How you feeling?” I ask.
“Okay. A little weird now that I got up.”
“Weird how?” I brush her hair away so I can see her face.
“Just…queasy, I guess? Not threatening, just…there.”
“Can I get you anything?”
She smiles “No, I’m okay.”
“Okay.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “You let me know.”
She tilts her head up. “You’re gonna be like this for the whole nine months, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” I admit, grinning. “Get used to it.”
She laughs, and I kiss her again, letting the comfortable silence stretch out between us.
By the time we’re dressed and heading to church, I can tell Megan’s stomach is still bothering her. She’s quieter than usual, her hand resting on her belly like she’s trying to settle it.
I keep asking, keep worrying if she’s okay or not.
I put my hand on the small of her back as we walk in. The lobby’s full and bustling. Greetings, kids running around before the service starts, the smell of coffee swimming in the air.
We sit in our spot beside my family, now in two pews, kids spread out and intertwined, fighting over who gets to sit with Grandma and Grandpa.
Lunch at the big house is chaos, as usual—loud, messy, everyone talking over each other at once. Plates clatter, kids squirm in their chairs, and Megan’s barely touching her food, just pushing it around her plate. My leg’s bouncing under the table like it has a mind of its own.
When my hand finally finds hers, she squeezes back and looks up at me with that ready, knowing look. The one that says go.
I clear my throat—but no one hears me.
“So,” I start, a little louder this time, and somehow the room settles just enough for every set of eyes to land on me. “Megan fainted at school on Friday.”
Mom’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh my.”
“Are you okay?” Addison asks, leaning forward.
Megan nods, and I catch Ella’s eyes across the table. She’s not looking at Megan, just smiling softly to herself. I know she knows. She had to have followed up with the other nurse. And still, I appreciate the way she plays along like this is all brand-new information.
“Yeah,” Megan says, a little breathless. “I’m actually thrilled.”
“Thrilled?” Dad repeats, clearly confused.
“Yeah,” I cut in before he can ask more. “Because I don’t know how long it would’ve taken us to figure out she was pregnant otherwise.”
The collective gasp that follows is dramatic and hilarious all at once.
“Shut up!” Addison blurts, already halfway out of her chair.
Megan nods, tears spilling instantly, and then it’s over—the table erupts. Chairs scrape. Voices overlap. Someone cheers. Someone claps.
“When are you due?” Addison asks, bouncing in place.
“Early March,” Megan says, wiping at her cheeks.
“Our babies are gonna be so close!” Addison squeals.
I glance down the table at Karissa. She’s smiling—really smiling. Not forced. Not tight. Just happy. And something in my chest loosens when I see it.
Everyone comes at us at once—hugs, back slaps, congratulations shouted from every direction. My brothers smack my back like I just won something. Eventually, people sit back down, attempting to collect themselves.
Megan’s looking at me now, smirking like she can’t believe I’m dragging this out. She nudges me under the table—say it already.
“Oh,” I add casually, once the noise dips again. “And we completely forgot to mention…it’s twins.”
Silence.
Then absolute chaos.
Mom gasps, both hands flying to her face. Cody chokes on his water. Addison screeches so loud a couple of the kids jump. Hallie starts crying—Ella’s the only one who notices.
Jesse just stares at us. “You’re kidding.”
“Yeah, no way,” Cody says, leaning back in his chair, one arm sliding around Karissa’s shoulders.
“Nope,” I grin. “There’s two.”
Dad starts laughing, shaking his head like he genuinely can’t wrap his mind around it. “Well, Son, you don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
“Apparently not.”
Mom’s out of her seat again, pulling Megan into a hug so tight I’m not convinced she can breathe. “Twins,” she keeps saying. “Oh my word. Twins.”
I catch Ella’s eye again and nod toward her. “You knew, right?”
She nods. “Yeah, I—”
Jesse snaps his head toward her. “What do you mean you knew?”
“She was there, Jess,” I remind him.
“You didn’t say anything!” he says, half offended, half laughing.
“HIPAA,” Ella fires back with a grin.
“Oh, whatever,” Jesse mutters, rolling his eyes as the table dissolves into laughter all over again.
I squeeze Megan’s hand, her jitters finally calming down. All the waiting, all the doubt, and still God showed up—nothing crazy, just faithful.