by Liz Isaacson
“Rhett,” Simone said, her voice high-pitched to the point of a squeak. “Evelyn must be sleeping.”
“Evelyn went into labor,” Rhett said, already confused. Why was Simone crying already? “I tried to call you, but—”
“She’s in labor?”
“And my parents are down at my grandparents’. Conrad is at the house, asleep, and I’m wondering if you can come sit with him. Take him back to your place. Whatever.” He didn’t expect her to say no, so the hesitation made him stop with his hand on his son’s bedroom doorknob. “Simone?”
“Daddy just called,” she said. “Gran died.”
Rhett’s whole soul crumpled in on itself. “Oh, no.” He thought of his son here. Evelyn waiting in the car, possibly going through another contraction. “I’ll call Skyler.” He was close; he’d come. “Or Jeremiah.”
“I’m sorry, Rhett,” Simone said.
“No,” Rhett said. “You do what you need to do.”
“They’re taking her to the Sanderson Funeral Home,” Simone said. “Just so you know.”
“Thank you, Simone,” Rhett said. “I’ll tell Evelyn.”
“I can have Micah start the news around to your family about the babies,” she said. “If you want.”
“That would be great,” Rhett said. He’d been gone from Evelyn for too long. “I have to go.” The call ended, and Rhett peeked in his son’s room. Conrad lay in his toddler bed, his face smashed into the pillow in such a way that Rhett was sure he couldn’t even breathe. “Buddy,” he said softly, rubbing his son’s back. “Time to wake up, Conrad.”
He quickly dialed Skyler while his son woke up and started to cry.
“What’s up?” Skyler asked.
“Evelyn’s gone into labor, and I’m wondering if you can come get Conrad.”
“On my way,” Skyler said, and relief poured through Rhett.
“He was asleep, and I didn’t want him to wake up alone, so I woke him up. I’m going to take him with us to the hospital. I know that makes your trip longer….”
“It’s fine,” Skyler said. “I’m literally doing nothing. I’m already in the truck. I can be to your place in ten minutes. You don’t think you can wait?”
Rhett picked up Conrad, who pressed right into his shoulder, still sleepy. “Let me see how Evvy is doing.” Outside, Evelyn had her eyes closed too. In the several seconds it took Rhett to get to the passenger side, he beat back the quiet panic that imagined the worst. That she’d passed out. That she wouldn’t make it to the hospital. With Ivory’s traumatic delivery, and Whitney’s first baby delivered at home, Rhett knew they weren’t immune to anything.
But her eyes fluttered open when he opened her door, and a soft smile touched her mouth. “Let me hug him,” she said.
“You okay?” Rhett asked. “Skyler is on his way. We can take Conrad with us or wait for him.” He passed Conrad to Evelyn, and he snuggled into her shoulder too.
“We can wait,” she said. “It’s okay.”
“We’ll wait for you, Sky,” Rhett said, backing out of the way and closing the door. “Hurry, though, okay?” He knew better than most that pregnancies and deliveries were unpredictable at best.
“Be there in five,” Skyler said, and Rhett hung up as he got behind the wheel and started the truck. He could go down the lane and shave a minute off of Skyler’s arrival.
“Simone couldn’t come?” Evelyn asked, and Rhett’s stomach cinched.
“Sweetheart,” he said. “I talked to Simone, but no, she can’t come.”
“Oh. What’s she doing?”
“She’s on her way with Micah to the funeral home.” He cut a look at her. “Your grandmother died.”
Evelyn absorbed the news for one, two, three long seconds, and then her face fell. She sniffled and tears ran down her face. Conrad lifted his head and looked at her. “Mommy sad.” He put both of his hands on either of her cheeks and looked at her.
“Yes.” Her voice carried pure anguish, but she tried to smile amidst the pain and tears.
Rhett clenched his teeth together, because Gran had been a special woman. He reached over and patted Evelyn’s arm, and their eyes met. She shook her head, and a whole conversation was had without either of them saying anything.
There would be time to grieve later, but right now, Rhett needed to get her and the babies to the hospital. He parked at the end of the lane, and only a few minutes later, Skyler pulled in.
“I didn’t get his bag,” Rhett said as he got out. He leaned into Skyler’s truck as he rolled down the window. “I forgot his bag. It’s in his room…somewhere.”
“In the closet,” Evelyn said behind him. “It’s a green turtle backpack.”
“Got it,” Skyler said, and Rhett went to get Conrad from Evelyn.
“All right, bud,” he said, taking him. “You’re going to go with Uncle Skyler tonight, okay?”
“Mommy sad,” Conrad said.
“Yeah, Mommy’s going to have the babies,” Rhett said. “So you do what Skyler says, ya hear? Say yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir, Daddy.”
Rhett loved Conrad with his whole soul, and he could not fathom there being enough room for three more babies. That was something he’d worried about the most. How could he love any of them the way they deserved to be loved? Conrad had his whole heart.
He handed Conrad to Skyler and in a desperate moment, hugged them both. He saw the surprise on Skyler’s face, and then Rhett turned and got back in the truck. It was hard to be the oldest brother, something none of them would ever understand.
When Daddy had been hurt, Tripp had called Rhett. Not Jeremiah. Not his own twin. Rhett. Because as Rhett, he always had to know what to do. And the fact was, Rhett did not always know what to do.
“Let’s go,” he said, buckling his seatbelt, because he did know the way to the hospital, and he knew Doctor Johnson would know what to do from there.
Only a couple of hours later, Doctor Johnson said to Evelyn, “Okay, Momma, it’s time to push.”
Rhett stood behind her, right where she’d told him to stand, and she leaned into his body. The labor had been fairly easy so far, and he’d been praying with his whole heart and soul that the triplets would be born easily, with no complications. His heart beat a steady rhythm in his chest as Evelyn pushed.
“Here we go,” Doctor Johnson said triumphantly. Rhett didn’t even have time to breathe before the wail of a new baby filled the air.
A soft, “Oh,” came from his mouth, and the doctor lifted the bright red infant over the drape across Evelyn’s knees.
“Here’s the first one, guys. He’s a boy.”
Rhett couldn’t see Doctor Johnson’s face, but his eyes crinkled up as if he were smiling big. He handed the baby to a nurse, who wiped and wrapped him before setting him right on Evelyn’s chest.
Her shoulders shook as she cried. “Rhett, he’s beautiful.”
Rhett gazed down at his son, overcome with emotions from far and wide. “He sure is,” he managed to say.
“Do you have names for them?” the nurse asked. “It’ll help us keep them separated, and make sure we note the right time of birth for each of them.”
“We’re naming him Easton, right?” Evelyn asked Rhett, tilting her head back to look at him.
“Yes,” he said. “Easton Gideon.”
“Time to push again,” Doctor Johnson said excitedly as the nurse lifted the baby from Evelyn’s chest and took him to a warming unit. “You’re going to have these babies close together.”
Closer together was better than far apart in Rhett’s opinion, and Evelyn pushed again. The baby didn’t arrive though, and Doctor Johnson adjusted his stool. “Don’t get too comfortable. And really give me a big push this time.”
“I am giving you a big push,” Evelyn said grumpily, and Rhett watched as the nurses checked on baby Easton. Only the first baby.
“Bigger then,” Doctor Johnson said as Evelyn sat up, obviously ready to go. “Yes, you kn
ow when it’s time.”
“Of course I know when it’s time,” Evelyn said. “I feel like I’m going to explode.” She groaned as she pushed, and Rhett hated seeing how tightly she gripped the rails on her bed.
“She’s out!” Doctor Johnson exclaimed, but the baby didn’t cry.
“It’s a girl?” Evelyn asked, her voice raspy. They hadn’t learned if the babies would be boys or girls, and Rhett knew she wanted a girl.
“It’s a girl,” Doctor Johnson said, passing the still silent infant to a nurse. “She’s a little plugged up, Sally.”
“Plugged up?” Evelyn asked, voicing Rhett’s concerns. “Rhett, go see.”
“If I move, there’s nothing behind you,” he said.
“Go see,” she snapped at him, and Rhett felt like he was going to get in trouble no matter what he did.
He met Doctor Johnson’s eyes, who said, “You probably have a couple of minutes before the last one will be ready.”
Rhett stepped away, making sure Evelyn didn’t just fall backward, and approached the warmer where the nurses had his little girl. His little girl.
His heart grew four sizes with one look at her, in less time than it took to breathe. Oh, how he loved her so much, and just like that, he had enough love and enough room in his heart for all of his children.
“She has a ton of hair, Evvy,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s all dark, like yours.”
“Why isn’t she crying?” Evelyn asked, the exhaustion plain in her voice.
He didn’t want to say that the nurses had something stuck up the tiny infant’s nose and were suctioning stuff out. They worked quickly, and in his opinion, roughly with the baby, and only a few seconds later, she coughed and wailed.
“There she is,” Doctor Johnson said. “She just had a lot of stuff in her nose they had to get out.”
The nurses wiped her quickly and wrapped her and handed her to Rhett. “Show her quickly, Mister Walker,” one of them said. Rhett couldn’t look away from the perfect, angelic face of his daughter. She continued to fuss, her unblemished skin crinkling like an old man’s along her forehead.
He chuckled as his emotions choked him and turned to show Evelyn. “She’s so perfect,” he said, his voice full of awe. He passed the baby to Evelyn, who put her lips against the girls’ forehead. “Can we name her after Gran?” Evelyn asked.
“Of course,” Rhett said.
“Name?” the nurse wanted to know.
“Elaine Evvy,” Rhett said, leaning down to kiss his wife’s forehead.
“Oh, boy,” Evelyn said, tensing up again.
“Last one,” Doctor Johnson boomed. “Let’s go.”
Rhett quickly passed the baby to the nurse and stood behind Evelyn again. The last baby delivered easily, and he cried and cried, louder than the others.
“You got another boy,” Doctor Johnson said. “And we won’t know until we do a blood test, but he looks like he might be an identical twin.” He’d been over all the scenarios for the babies Evelyn had been carrying for just over eight months. They could’ve all come from their own egg, or they could’ve come from one egg and separated. He wouldn’t truly know, unless they wanted to do some in vitro testing, until birth.
And Rhett and Evelyn hadn’t wanted to do any unnecessary testing. They didn’t care if the babies were identical or singles.
He started massaging Evelyn’s stomach, saying, “I definitely think you have two placentas in there, Evelyn. You’ve still got some work to do.”
“Name for this last baby?” the nurse asked.
Rhett and Evelyn had talked about names for ages, it seemed. They had three girl names and three boys, since they didn’t know what they’d be getting. “I like Austin more than Dallas,” Evelyn said.
“Austin Foster,” Rhett said, turning to the nurse.
“You can come for their baths if you want,” she said. “We’ll bring them to their momma in the recovery room.”
“Evvy?”
“Go with the babies,” she said. “I’m fine.”
Rhett stepped over to her and kissed her forehead again. “You did so great. I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said, sighing, and Rhett went with his three new babies to get their baths. The nurses put him to work too, and he copied them as he bathed Austin and they took care of Easton and Elaine. Austin was definitely the fussiest, and the smallest, and Rhett thought he’d probably have to fight with his siblings for everything he wanted.
Pure joy filled him, because Rhett loved having a big family. Yes, they were loud, and obnoxious, and sometimes noses got bloodied over doughnuts—at least growing up. And he hoped his boys—and his one darling girl—would have the same kind of familial bond he had with his brothers and their wives.
“Okay,” Sally said. “You take this one.” She put tiny Elaine in Rhett’s right arm. The only way Rhett knew it was Elaine was because of the pink hat the nurse had put over all that dark hair. “And this one.” She put a blue-capped baby in his left arm. “That’s Easton. I’ve got Mister Fussy here.”
She beamed down at Austin, who also wore a blue hat. Neither of the boys had much hair, and Rhett did wonder if they were identical twins.
“Can we take them out to the waiting room for like, five minutes?” he asked. “Before we take them back to Evelyn?”
“She’s not done,” another nurse said, so Sally said, “Five minutes. Let’s go.” She led the way, and Rhett kept his steps light and his eyes on the babies to make sure he wasn’t jolting them. Carrying two at once wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, because they felt like glass, like he’d break them with his too-big cowboy hands at any moment.
Sally exited the maternity ward, and Rhett heard Wyatt whistle. “Over there,” he said, nodding to his left without looking up. “There will be a ton of them. Loud. Can’t miss ‘em.”
He looked up, a huge grin on his face, and found everyone he loved right there—except for Liam and Callie, and Micah and Simone. Evelyn’s father wasn’t there either, and neither were his parents, and Rhett’s joy faded slightly. Skyler held Conrad, who just stared at Rhett like he was bringing him snakes instead of siblings.
Then Jeremiah whooped, and everyone broke into cheers and applause.
“Oh, you got a little girl,” Marcy said, reaching for Elaine, her eyes already watering.
Rhett introduced them around, and he took Conrad from Skyler. “Those are your new brothers and sister,” he said. Conrad just stared at the babies, and Rhett had to admit he could relate.
Jeremiah hugged him and said, “Jerome called, and he said he wanted to be here so badly. He said they’ll come by as soon as they can, probably later tonight.”
“Okay,” Rhett said. “I’ll tell Evelyn.”
“Five minutes are up,” Sally said, and Rhett took Elaine and Easton with him to truly meet their momma.
Chapter Sixteen
Liam looped his tie around his neck, knotting it quickly though everything he’d been doing for the past week felt like it had been done in slow motion. Without Jeremiah and Whitney and Mal and Skyler, he felt like he’d have left one of his girls somewhere and not remembered where.
Tripp had come over last night just to be there in the morning to help, and Liam sure did appreciate that. He found his twin in the kitchen with Denise and Ginger, all three of them eating happily. How he did that, Liam wasn’t sure. Most days, he felt like he couldn’t keep up with the demands of his family, his job, and the ranch.
When Daddy had been in the hospital, Liam had found the time to go visit him and read to him. He actually missed that slower pace of his day, and he really wanted to get back to it. “Morning,” he said, reaching for a mug. He’d left Callie in the bathroom to get ready, and he hoped she’d be able to pull herself together for the funeral that day.
She’d been lying on the couch all week, only answering her phone if her father called. Gran had most things planned for her funeral, because she was ninety-six-years-ol
d and knew she wouldn’t live forever. But for some reason, Jerome hadn’t been able to make any decisions without all three girls signing off on them, and Callie had done nothing all week but deal with funeral arrangements.
Evelyn couldn’t help much, as she’d just birthed three babies, and Liam suspected a lot of the load had fallen to Simone. He’d done the dishes, and put in laundry, and put the girls in the tub at night. His mother had come to help as much as she could, but again, Evelyn had just had three babies, and she needed a lot of extra help too. He knew Mal and Marcy had been at Evelyn’s every day, trying to help her establish a routine for feeding, bathing, and napping with so many new people at once. Everything took three times as long, and Liam couldn’t even imagine that.
He and Callie had only ever had the one newborn, and Ginger had kept Liam awake worrying night after night. Sometimes she still did. Denise too, because Liam just didn’t know if he was doing the right thing.
“Did Uncle Tripp make oatmeal?” he asked, looking into a pot on the stove.
“Cream of wheat,” Tripp said. “There’s tons. Come eat.”
Liam dished up a bowl and said, “I’m going to go check on Callie.” He went back down the hall, sniffing out the scent of eucalyptus before he reached the bedroom door. That meant she’d at least gotten in the shower. A good sign.
“Sweetheart?” he asked as he entered.
She looked up from the armchair in the corner, where she sat in her bathrobe. A soft smile touched her face, but it was clear she’d already been crying.
“I brought breakfast,” he said, crossing the room to her and kneeling down in front of her. She took the bowl; Liam wiped her tears.
“I know I’m being silly,” she whispered. “I mean, she was old. She lived a very good life.”
Liam said nothing, just watched his wife’s face as her anguish rolled across it.
“I just….” She sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “I’m the oldest. I have to pull myself together.”
“No, you don’t,” Liam said. “You can cry all you want.”
She smiled at him again. “Who’s going to tell stories of my mom now?”