by Allie York
“Ready?” Amelia yelled up at him while I lingered near the door. She was bouncing with excitement and jingling her keys. Ewan came down, cuffing his sleeves, and rubbed my pot belly as he kissed my head. Amelia climbed in the front of my Honda to drive us the four blocks to the hospital. She practically dragged us in and to the elevator, talking incessantly as we went.
Nick met us in the hall, twirling his cane like a vaudeville performer. “BooBoo.” He bowed low, swinging his cane into the wall.
“Lunchbox.” I hugged him awkwardly over my stomach. “Where is my nephew?” He poked the door open with the tip of the cane and gestured us in to a dim hospital room. Rae was nursing a squirming little blue bundle, but covered herself when we came in, immediately gesturing for me to sit next to her. She rubbed my belly when I sat down. I would never get used to having people randomly rub my stomach.
“I wonder which girl George falls madly in love with first?” Rae shifted little George to my arms, and I plucked the blue hat from his head to reveal a head full of blond fuzz. He had Nick’s turned up nose and Rae’s tiny chin. Little George was perfect. My hormones took over, and I started sobbing, holding the little guy. I sniffed his hair, taking in the fresh baby smell, and cried harder. Everything made me cry from seeing babies in public to diaper commercials. Amelia snatched George from me, cooing over him, and telling him how cute he was and how much trouble they would get in once the little guy was older. I reclined back on the bed next to Rae and listened to her gory labor details. She was pretty proud of herself for pushing out an eight-pound human. Then Amelia passed the baby on to Ewan.
He held George awkwardly, at first, but quickly found a comfortable position and rubbed his big hand over George’s fuzzy head. I cried harder. I was a mess, but it was so sweet. Knowing that in a few short months he would be holding one of our daughters made my tears shift to unhinged sobs. Ewan caught my eyes, gently bouncing a fussy George. His expression was pleading and I nodded. He grinned, knowing exactly what my nod meant. The man had won, and it was probably the fault of my damn hormones. Screw being giant with twins, I would marry the man the next instant he asked whether I fit in a dress or was wearing sweat pants. I had all the things I never realized I wanted. My life was perfect, lacking absolutely nothing.
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Crystal for telling me to sit down and write a book. Thank you, Chris, for being the Nick to my Jovie. Thank you, Sylvia for teaching me how much fun it is to be naughty. And thanks to all my family members who didn’t kill me for using your likeness in my books. I really appreciate it.