by Lilian Darcy
Youre supposed to bring the twins, Stace.
I am? She sounded blank and astonished.
We went through this, didnt we? Im not a Child Free Zone. I assumed theyd be coming. Ive catered for them. Plastic blocks and juice boxes.
She sniffed the tears back and he heard a smile creep into her voice. They dont eat plastic blocks. Too spicy. Especially the red ones.
Nope, sorry, he wasnt going to laugh. He was actually angry that she thought he hadnt planned on including her kids.
He waited.
Jake, you didnt have to do this, she finished after a moment.
No? he drawled. Thanks for pointing that out. I thought it was a court-ordered requirement. My mistake.
Why are you mad?
Because of your assumptions. Which, as far as Im concerned, weve already addressed.
There was a moments silence as she considered this, then she said crisply, I think youre wrong. But we can debate it over lunch. Im glad you were expecting Max and Ella. Well be a little late because I have to get them ready. But well be there.
He was still angry forty minutes later, when she and the twins arrived. The rain had temporarily eased back to low cloud and his breath steamed as he stepped into the driveway to meet them. Stacey smiled and said hi and bundled the twins out of the car, then opened the trunk to retrieve a bulging diaper bag, a portable crib and a covered dish.
She wore a very feminine version of a leather bomber jacket, as well as jeans and a fuzzy sweater in bright sky blue. The dark brown boots beneath the jeans gave Jake flashes of X-rated fantasy, the way their heels snapped on the cement.
Are we still mad at each other? she said, while Max and Ella rushed over to the browned winter grass and started inspecting wet leaves.
Lets explore that.
She sighed. Obviously we are. Jake, you invited me to lunch, you didnt specifically say to bring the kids, and youre a single man with a beautiful home. I dont think my assumptions were an insult, the way you seem to feel.
He held his ground. If I hadnt wanted the twins, I would have suggested dinner at a fancy restaurant.
Ill remember that next time.
Why are you angry? he asked.
Because I dont think you have a right to be.
I think I do. You keep doing this. Youve put me in a box labeled People Not To Share My Kids With, and Ive already told you its not where I want to be. I do have the right to be angry.
She looked sideways at him, and said in a measured way, You seriously want me to share my kids with you?
Yes!
Logan, you have no clue what youre in for! She grinned at him, like sun coming out from behind the clouds, and suddenly everything felt good again.
Swings! Ella said, at that moment. Shed glimpsed the sturdy wooden swing and slide set in his back garden, a legacy of the homes owners, whod been sent to Europe for a couple of years for work and who had kids. Ella headed toward it, Max right on her heels.
Jake was impressed at their speed. He swung the diaper bag onto his shoulder, picked up the portable crib by its handle and started for the house, but found Staceys dish thrust into his spare hand a moment later. He had to stop to adjust the diaper bag and the crib so he could manage it all. Stacey had already set off after the twins.
He watched her and soon saw why. Ella reached the swing set before Max and launched herself, stomach first, onto the belt-shaped rubber seat. She overshot the distance and her head hit the grass. Loud crying started. Stacey scooped her up and began to soothe her by bouncing her on one hip, while simultaneously stopping the crooked motion of the swing from knocking Max over on the rebound.
Jake began to think that Stacey might be right.
He had no clue what he was in for.
He couldnt believe how fast the two-year-olds had gotten into trouble, nor how soon Stacey had seen it coming. He dumped the bag and the dish in the house, came through the back door and found relative tranquility at the swing set. Stacey pushed Ella on the rubber swing with one hand and Max on the plastic one with the other.
Is she okay? he asked.
Its always a good sign when they cry like that, right away.
Yeah?
If theyre seriously hurt, they cry different or they dont cry at all. Ella is the queen of really yelling when she gets a bump, and then forgetting all about it thirty seconds later.
She certainly looks fine now.
She is. Apart from the grass stain on her forehead.
Actually, I thought that was a good look for her.
Oh, please. You can push Max, if you want. She grinned at him. Its incredibly b-o-r-i-n-g after about three minutes.
Youre not supposed to say that, are you?
I know Im not. So I didnt. I spelled it.
He pressed the issue, sounding deliberately dense because he wanted to dig a little deeper into who Stacey-the-Mom really was. What had she said the other night? That Anna deserved better than to darken his life and should warm his heart instead. He couldnt see it. How did Stacey manage all the contradictions in being a parent?
Its meant to be very fulfilling, this kind of thing, isnt it? It felt like dangerous territory, yet necessary. Quality time with kids.
You mean because Hollywood actresses with their fleets of nannies always say so?
Thats where I get most of my information on parenting. From Hollywood actresses.
Seriously? I mean, not the where you get your information thing, but do you want my serious answer?
Yes. I do.
It is fulfilling. It is quality time. Were out in the fresh air. Theyre happy. Im getting an upper body workout. I know Im doing the right thing as a parent. It can be frustrating, too, sometimes, like if I try to come around to face them and push them from the front because then we can smile at each other and I love that. But they always tell meEllas the ringleader on thisBack! Back! I guess to create a better illusion that shes flying free? So there I am, standing behind them, push-two-three-four, push-two-three-four, Max, Ella, Max, Ella, like a machine, for twenty minutes at a stretch.
You could say, weve had enough swinging for now, guys, lets do something else.
And then what? There are twelve waking toddler twin hours in every day, and every one of them has to be filled with something thats not dangerous or going to get chocolate or paint on my carpet. Do you want total honesty, here, Jake, or a sanitized version?
Total. Always, from you. He dropped his voice and saw her instinctive glance in his direction. Their eyes met and communicated too much.
Too much instinctive understanding.
Too much connection.
The dishonesty of his breakup with her seventeen years ago was a mistake hed been too immature to avoid back then, but he vowed not to repeat it now.
The moment rattled him and he looked away.
Total, Jake? Stacey said. Okay. As a nearly full-time single parent, you learn to be grateful for merely being bored.
Instead of?
Completely exhausted and at your witsend and in need of therapy.
Stace, I thought you loved this. You said the other night
I do. I love it down to my toes. I am so nuts about these guys I would crawl on my hands and knees licking broken glass for the sake of their well-being and happiness. But Ive discovered that I can be incredibly fulfilled in the abstract and yet frequently bored and frustrated in the day-to-day moments.
You wouldnt think of increasing your work hours to get more of that kind of fulfillment? Professional, out in the world, with other adults. You told me theres the option of expanding your job into full-time if you want.
Not until theyre in school. I guess Im old-fashioned. Two days a week is enough when theyre this small.
Why? If they enjoy the day-care center, whats the problem?
Its not that simple. They enjoy it sixteen hours a week. Im not convinced forty or more would be good for them.
So make it simple for me.
Simple, she echoed
. Okay. She took a breath. I just happen to believe, even though its not always convenient or easy to believe it, and even though a lot of people would argue differently, that children under the age of five deserve to spend most of their waking hours in the care of someone who loves them. I dont think it matters if that person is a parent or a grandparent or a family friend or if its a mix of two or three people, or what, and I know its not a possibility for some peopleIm so lucky that Johns job means he can afford to help finance this for usbut I think in an ideal world, its what every kid would have.
And you stick to that idea, even when youre b-o-r-e-d?
Yep.
Huh.
What?
Nothing. Im just thinking.
So I stand on my soapbox and spill my entire child-care philosophy, and you get to say nothing and just think?
Youre a very interesting person, Stacey.
Although stuck in a rut.
You really dont let things go, sometimes, do you?
Nope. She grinned. And, now, see, were not boredI like it when Im at the playground with other carers and we get talkingand the twins are extremely happy with our push-two-three-four rhythm, so theres always a bright side. Oh, speaking of bright sides, thats an apple cake I brought for lunch. One of their favorites.
Insurance against a mealtime battle?
Something like that.
They pushed the swings in silence for a while. Push-two-three-four. Push-two-three-four. Max and Ella. Ella and Max. Jake saw Staceys point. B-o-r-i-n-g. And yet at the same timegood. Really good.
A low cloud of fog hung in the trees, which dripped with silvery water. The damp air magnified the fresh, pungent scent of pine needles, and somebody nearby must have a wood fire burning in their home because he could smell the smoke. Wearing a jacket and leather gloves, he was warm even without a hat, and the bite of the cold against his ears was strangely pleasant.
The twins were so cute, in colorful down jackets that turned their little bodies into soft, bulky packages. They had red pom-pom hats and matching mittens and probably red noses, too, although he couldnt see their faces right now.
My arms are starting to ache, Stacey announced, after some minutes more. Guys, want to get down and explore? Wanna try the slide? She nudged Ella the short distance to the ground, which made Max at once begin to squirm. His swing was higher, with a safety chain across the front, so he needed extra help.
Jake tried to lift him, but the little boy caught one foot in the leg hole of the plastic swing and they both got stuck. Should he try to pull Max up or push him back down? How come the kids legs didnt seem to have knees? How come Jake could rotate an unborn baby inside its mothers belly, or free a stuck shoulder halfway through a birth, but he couldnt get a two-year-old out of a swing? Uh, Stacey?
I know. Hes still learning to work out when to bend. Let me do it.
Would they be getting hungry? he asked, while she deftly folded and pulled her child in the right places, got him free of the swing and down to the ground. I should go inside and start up those nuggets.
Youre confident weve got that oven control system down, now?
I practiced the whole of Sunday.
She laughed, and he felt an insane spurt of pleasure and warmth.
He went ahead of her and the twins. He put nuggets and fries in the oven and the deli soup hed purchased into a pot on the stove. He set out bread, cold meat, cheese, juice boxes and several other items on the kitchen table.
By this time hed expected to hear Stacey and the children entering the house but there was no sign of them, so he went out through the back door and found them still making their slow progress toward the back door. Apparently the details of his yard were a lot more fascinating to young eyes and young fingers than hed realized.
Stacey seemed impressed, also. She had that healthy outdoor pink to her cheeks and her eyes were bright. Her nose matched her kids noses, which almost matched the red of their hats but not quite. You have quite a piece of land!
I was told its over an acre. A big part of why I rented the place, actually. Id gotten tired of high-rise apartments. Theres a sense of space here, neighbors arent too close, and there are some great trails through the woods nearby. Id like to cycle when the weather gets warmer, or do some cross-country skiing if we get snow.
And thats still your ground beyond the holly hedge? She pointed in that direction, then looked at the twins to check what they were doing.
Yes, theres a pool back there, Jake told her. You cant see it because of the vegetation.
Is it covered and fenced?
Uh, yeah, but Im not sure if the gate is locked.
Hopefully it has a childproof catch.
Ill check it, if they want to play outside again.
Thanks. Id never let them outside on their own at this age, but with these guys theres no such thing as being too careful.
Are you ready to come in?
Ive been ready for ten minutes. She smiled. But some of us are exploring.
So I noticed. They wont eat those berries, will they?
Theyve been told.
Is that enough?
Theyre a lot better about that kind of thing than they were six months ago. Tastes yucky, should be good enough.
And there are mushrooms growing on a couple of the trees that wouldnt be safe to eat, either.
Ill watch out for those, too, then.
Good. Um, lets think, is there anything else?
Looking around in case more warnings were needed, he discovered that his entire spacious, relaxing, woodsy yard had suddenly become a death trap. Swings that could bump heads, poisonous berries and fungus, the treachery of the swimming pool, an unlocked hatch leading to the space beneath the house, where the owners had helpfully left toxic lawn care chemicals and wasp spray
The list went on.
No wonder Stacey kept checking on the kids, didnt let them out of her sight for a second and always stayed a scant three steps behind. Right now, in the middle of him saying he hoped she still liked cream of mushroom soup, she told Ella quickly, Sweetheart, not the berries, remember? Theyre pretty in your hand but, eww, very, very yucky taste, okay? All bitter. Well put them down and wash
She stopped.
Too late.
Ella had squeezed her fists around the berries to see what a lovely goo they made. And it was indeed lovelyall red and orange and smooshy in her palm and between her fingers. She looked up, wrinkling her nose and grinning.
your hands, Stacey finished weakly, and just managed to lunge forward and grab Maxs hands before he did the same thing. She shook the berries from his hands, saying, Look! Its raining pretty berries, Max, isnt that great? She added without a pause, I love cream of mushroom soup. Which bathroom should I use for this?
When do you sit down? Jake asked, quite appalled. Um, theres a powder room
When my legs give out from under me. He saw the dimple in her cheek as she smiled. She could tell how he felt, and she seemed to think it was pretty funny. This way to the powder room? Thanks.
She held Ellas hands carefully at the wrists. Envisaging a new smooshy red and orange decorative wall treatment on top of his rented paintwork, Jake was grateful for her dexterity and foresight. He held open the back door for her and she frowned at him as she passed. Are you okay, Jake? No, Ella, sweetheart, Im not letting go of your hands till we get to the powder room. Is it heated up already?
The powder room?
The soup.
Im fine. Keeping up two entirely separate conversation threads at the same time is more challenging than Id expected, however.
Actually, I think we have three going, right now.
He counted. Soup, hands and how Stacey managed to sit down. She was right.
Good grief, he was an obstetrician. He brought babies into the world every day of the week. Sometimes older siblings came in with their mothers for prenatal appointments. His offices, in various cities around the world, had always featured sturdy toys in t
he waiting area, and hed witnessed his share of tantrums and curious fingers and misbehavior.
But he hadnt actually spent any of his leisure time around kids, and definitely not twins. Two-year-old, lively, curious, strong-willed twins, whose mother had arrowed her way straight back into his heart after seventeen years as if she could have found her way there blindfolded.
He felt dizzy.
Stacey and the twins came as a package deal. He would have to be pretty dumb not to understand this at first glance. He thought he had already understood it. Hed been angry at her, less than an hour ago, for questioning his willingness to include her kids in his life. Now he realized that his thinking hadnt even scraped the surface.
If he and Stacey were going to have anything more than the most casual amicable of professional friendships while he stayed in Portland, hed have to make some kind of a commitment to Ella and Maxat the very least a commitment to keeping a safe watch over them while he was in their company, and to considering their needs and their limitations when he planned time spent with their mother.
What if he started to care about them?
Or what if he didnt?
He didnt know which possibility scared him more.
As Stacey trundled Ella into the powder room with her messy little hands stretched out in front of her and Max following close behind, he heard a loud, spluttering hiss from the kitchen. The cream of mushroom soup had just boiled over on the stove.
Put the straw in your mouth, and then Ill poke it through the hole, Max. Jake, no, dont let her do it herself, because they always
Stacey stopped.
Too late.
Again.
Ella had pushed the juice box straw through the foil circle at the top, unconsciously squeezing the box as she did so. Since she didnt have the straw in her mouth the way Max did, the juice box immediately became a fountain, squirting a spurt of sticky liquid all over the table. Stacey had learned about this phenomenon the hard way. Sorry, Jake.
Its fine. He grabbed a handful of napkins and mopped up the mess. I dont think we have quite all of it spilled on the table, he drawled. Maybe she could squeeze harder next time.
Stacey knew he couldnt possibly consider this a relaxing meal, and yet she did.