Married...With Twins!

by Jennifer Mikels

  “Yes.” She said the word on a sigh. “Why didn’t I remember that?”

  He thought the answer to her question was obvious. “Probably because there’s so much else to think about.”

  Like us, Val mused, listening to the squeak of the screen door closing behind him..

  While the twins ate, she swept a look over the mess in the large country kitchen. It was going to take longer than she’d thought to get them settled in. She’d make some headway today. She had to, or the disorder would drive her crazy. Even when she and Luke had bought the house, she’d been unrelenting about getting everything in order. He’d laughed at her, and he’d distracted her, she recalled. He’d seduced her in this kitchen. They’d laughed. They’d dreamed of the family they’d raise in this house. And, she reminded herself quickly, they’d also discussed divorce in this same room.

  “Done,” Brooke announced, grabbing Val’s attention.

  With some satisfaction, she noted they’d eaten all of their lunch. After wiping hands and faces, she ushered them outside. As if it were Christmas, they tore at the brown bags she handed them.

  “Bub-bles,” Brooke squealed.

  Leaving the back door open to hear a dispute, Val left them alone gleefully blowing, then chasing, bubbles.

  More bags of clothes demanded her attention. She tossed a few worn tops and pants into a garbage bag, then quickly retrieved each one, worried she was throwing away a favorite.

  “The cribs are set up in the bedroom,” Luke announced behind her.

  She swiveled a look back to see him retrieving the ice tea pitcher from the refrigerator. Though the twins’ pink-and-white dollhouse hardly belonged in his den, a masculine room of leather and tweed, she believed that the upstairs bedroom on the second level was perfect for the girls. Last year, she and Luke had knocked out a wall of an adjacent room to make a bedroom bigger. For the baby they’d been expecting, they’d painted it a soft, eggshell white, and she’d chosen a white fabric with a design of peach teddy bears for curtains and the padded window seat. But unlike newborns, two-year-olds climbed on everything. “The window seat will have to go,” she said, sharing her thought. She glanced toward the window to check on the twins.

  Warm from his repeated treks to the truck, Luke dropped onto the closest kitchen chair. “I’ll have to contact someone to take it out and finish the wall.”

  As he relaxed, Val grew more anxious. They had to talk, really talk. There was no time left. “Luke, about the promise we made to Joe and Carrie-” She bit her bottom lip, caught the nervous gesture and stopped. Be honest. It was the only way to deal with the problem. “I’d forgotten about the trip to Joe and Carrie’s lawyer-about signing the paper giving us guardianship.”

  So had he, for a while. They were in an odd situation. The agreed-on divorce threatened a promise to friends, one that had been made when their marriage had been perfect. With a look up, he caught the hint of uncertainty in Val’s eyes. Not knowing what she was trying to say, he felt impatience poking at him. “You don’t want the responsibility?”

  Val needed to backtrack only a few months to realize why he’d asked the question. No children, she’d told him on their wedding anniversary in July when he’d suggested another baby. “We told them that we’d take care of their children if anything happened to them,” she said instead of answering him. She believed promises should be kept. At one time, Luke had even teased her about being a little obsessed with the subject. Perhaps she was, just to prove she wasn’t like her mother who had made hundreds of promises and kept none.

  “Okay.” He took a long swig of his ice tea. “So what’s your plan now?”

  Tenseness coiled around her. “I don’t really know,” Val said truthfully, standing by the back door and watching the girls. During the past week she’d been thinking mostly about the twins’ immediate welfare. “I plan to stay home-for a while. Right now, they need nurturing and stability. If you can get another receptionist, I could handle the accounting at home. Do you think Neil or Lionel would mind?”

  It was typical of her to be thinking about others, not herself or how what she was suggesting might personally affect her. “They’ll mind that you’re not there to deal with their patients.” The dentist and podiatrist he shared an office building with thought the world of her. “But they’ll understand.” Over the rim of his glass, he studied her, wondering if she remembered they had only temporary guardianship. Lovely with the hint of sunlight shining on her, bathing her face with a golden glow, she looked younger than thirty-two at the moment. “You haven’t forgotten that there’s going to be a home study and a court hearing, have you?”

  Val knew all that. “I remember.” What she didn’t know was how he felt about being a surrogate daddy. Why had everything seemed so simple while they’d been at Joe and Carrie’s home packing the twins’ belongings?

  Luke clicked the ice cubes in his glass. Instinct told him she was fretting. He couldn’t alleviate her worry. They were facing a major snag to keep a well-intended promise to friends. “And there’s that stipulation in their will to think about. Did you forget it?”

  Hardly. Between almost every other thought since she’d cuddled the twins on the night that their parents had died, Val had been thinking about it.

  “Our marriage has to be solid for us to get permanent guardianship of the girls.” He looked at the dark tea in his glass. “It isn’t.”

  Her hands damp from nerves, Val rubbed one down a denim-clad hip and prodded herself to breach the big problem. “We could pretend.”

  “What?” Slowly he raised his head. Of all the things he’d imagined she’d say, that wasn’t expected.

  “Why couldn’t we pretend?” Her eyes returned to meet his with a steadiness she didn’t feel. “We have to think about the twins.” Val drew a hard breath and nervously brushed back strands of her bangs. “I want-I want you to sleep here again, Luke. If you keep sleeping at your office or the hospital, people might notice. We have to consider appearances now.”

  He suddenly found himself with forearms on the table, leaning closer. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

  Val felt encouraged. He hadn’t given her a flat-out no. He was thinking about the idea. “We have to look happily married. We have to present the right image of the most perfect couple.” She sank onto a chair near him. “For the girls.” She watched his eyes relax from their narrow stare. “I don’t want them to end up in the system. If we fail, the Department of Health and Social Services will take them from us.” Even the thought of that happening lumped her throat.

  He couldn’t ever remember feeling so mentally lost before. “Do you want to forget the divorce?”

  “At least for now,” she answered, her heart still pounding with fear that he’d say no. In a slow movement, he rubbed a knuckle across his jaw. The contemplating gesture bombarded her with memories and gave her a second of hope. She thought quickly of a way to soften the situation so he wouldn’t feel trapped. “It might be only for three months-six at the mostuntil the court decides its final recommendations.”

  And then what? he nearly asked. Was he supposed to walk away? He cared about the twins, too.

  “The girls need us,” she said softly. “I know we made a decision but…”

  Lost in the dark eyes alive with emotion, Luke wasn’t unaware of a softening inside him. He resisted it and pushed to a stand. He needed to get away, to think clearly, to make sense of what was happening. Rather than shower at home, he’d take one at the hospital. “There’s a patient I have to check on. And I have ER duty tonight.”

  His shadowed eyes had revealed nothing to her. Anxious because he hadn’t agreed, Val stood. She had no idea what he was thinking. “Is your answer yes or no?”

  A palm on the screen door, he paused in pushing it and looked back at her. Logic warred with feelings for her as he saw the appeal in her eyes. How could he refuse? “Yes, I’ll do what you asked.”

  Val waited until the door closed behind him
to release the breath she’d been holding. She watched him kiss the girls goodbye. Let’s back up. Start over again. She couldn’t say any of that to him. Too much had happened since February for them to begin again.

  Being alone with two-year-old twins should have been a cinch. Val learned differently within minutes.

  First Traci yelled, “Pee, pee.”

  Then Brooke screamed an echo.

  Only Brooke made it in time to the potty chair. While changing Traci’s soggy diaper, Val saw Brooke limping away with one shoe on and one off.

  Val found the missing blue sneaker buried under a doll and the dishtowel Brooke had used as a blanket. By the time she slipped Brooke’s sneaker on, Traci had shed both of her shoes and her socks.

  Val gave up. On a warm September day, what was the harm in Traci being barefoot in the house?

  By six o’clock, she chose a simple dinner of fastfood hamburgers. The girls were thrilled. Val felt guilty. Carrie would have done better for her daughters. But Carrie had eased into the job. For Val, motherhood had been thrust on her. She wasn’t complaining. God, no. For most of her life, being a mother had been at the top of her wish list. She simply longed for a little more preparation time.

  In a week she’d be supermom, she assured herself. By nature, she was organized. Being an accountant had reinforced those traits. Though everything was a little chaotic and cluttered right now, she was confident that the house would be shipshape by tomorrow and she’d have a schedule in place.

  After dinner, Val dug the twins’ favorite books out of a box. She ignored the three boxes she’d dumped to find those books. With a promise of bedtime stories, she maneuvered the girls into the bathtub.

  Traci howled for her rubber duck.

  “Tomorrow,” Val promised, soaping Traci through squinting eyes as Brooke splashed water at her. With her blouse soaked and water dripping from her face, she gathered the twins in her arms. They smelled sweet and kissable. Blue eyes drooped slightly, encouraging Val with a thought that sleep might come quickly for them.

  After tucking them into bed, she read their books. They were both sleeping before she finished the first story.

  Collapsing on a chair in the living room, she swept a glance around at the boxes, at the dumped books, at the toys strewn everywhere. Tomorrow she would clean up the mess.

  Exhausted, it took effort to haul herself up the stairs. She was only a step from the doorway when the phone rang. With a dash to the bed, she belly flopped across it and snatched up the receiver before the ringing woke the girls. “Hello?”

  “It’s me. How’s it going?” Luke asked in a soft, considerate tone that used to melt her heart. “Is everything all right?”

  No way would she let him know how pooped she was. “Just super.”

  “Can you manage alone?”

  “Of course,” she answered because she had little choice. She knew he couldn’t be home. She accepted, in fact, admired his conscientiousness about patients. He was a good doctor. She thought he was one of the best in New Hope, in all of Texas.

  “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Val dropped the receiver into its cradle. Somehow she and Luke would find a way to work things out. They had to-to protect the twins.

  Tiredness seeping into her, she yawned and glanced at the bedside clock. Eight-thirty. It was too early for bed, but she needed to rest, to close her eyes.

  She slept. How long, she wasn’t sure, but a moaning cry jarred her awake. It took less than a second to orient herself as alarm shocked her system. She bolted from the bed, and in a panic, raced down the hall, not even bothering to grab her robe.

  The dim light from the lamp that was shaped like a colorful air balloon reflected on Traci, sitting in her crib, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Val scurried to her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  As she lifted her up, Traci’s arms wrapped around her neck and clung. “Hold Traci.” Poor little thing. She was frightened. Perhaps she didn’t even know why. Until this moment, the twins had asked for their parents a few times, and because of the brief attention span typical of their age, they’d been easily distracted. Luke had told her not to expect grief. He’d explained that at their age, it was too hard for them to show more than passing feelings that would be too sad.

  “I’m here,” Val nearly cried as she hugged Traci closer and sat on a rocking chair. She stroked her hair soothingly, felt her little body heave as she caught back sobs.

  In the other crib, clutching her teddy bear, Brooke stirred but didn’t awaken.

  With her fingertips, Val blotted the tears from Traci’s cheeks.

  “Vali stay?”

  “Yes, I’ll stay.”

  She snuggled closer, burying her face in Val’s neck. “Luke, too?” she asked, then yawned.

  Val peered down at her. Her lashes flickered on her cheeks before her eyes closed. For a long moment Val watched the rise and fall of Traci’s small chest. How unfair life was. “We’re going to be real close and take care of both of you,” she whispered.

  Gently, Val rocked Traci in the chair that she and Luke had bought in February to soothe their own child. The baby she’d held only once, not in this room with its wallpaper of dancing teddy bears. But in a stark, white hospital room before she’d died.

  Chapter Two

  Duel wails jolted Val from sleep. Blinking, she peeked at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, then swung her legs over the side of the bed. How could they be awake at six in the morning? They’d scampered and scurried all day yesterday. They should have been exhausted. She was.

  While hurrying toward the bedroom where the twins had slept last night, she shrugged into her robe. Whimpering, Brooke, the quieter of the two, cuddled her teddy bear and sat with her legs dangling between the crib railings. Traci, howling with her eyes closed, had swung a leg over the top railing of the crib.

  “Good morning,” Val called to them from the doorway. “Are you hungry?”

  Traci’s eyes popped open, and she squealed with glee.

  Brooke’s head shot up. So did her arms. “Vali, Vali.”

  Turning down Main Street, Luke ran a hand across tired eyes after a night of emergency room duty at New Hope General.

  At six in the morning, the town was stumbling awake. As usual, Sue Ellen shuffled along the sidewalk to the door of the diner. She yawned, an indication she’d had a late night somewhere. Three times divorced, the good-natured diner owner had taken the time to manipulate her ashy-blond hair into its skyhigh style and had raccooned her eyes. No doubt she would come into his office in a few weeks complaining in her airy manner that she was always tired. Luke often gave her the same response. Get more sleep. And she always laughed as if he had a screw loose for suggesting she miss her nightlife.

  Driving past New Hope Park, he negotiated onto the first street on the left. As usual, his mother’s kitchen light was on. A before-dawn riser, she’d supply what he needed most at the moment-a good cup of coffee.

  She expected him. Though she lived only blocks from his house, she’d become so involved in volunteer work and her part-time job at the New Hope Hotel that seeing her had become a hit-and-miss situation. So Luke visited her at daybreak on the mornings after ER duty.

  “I got a letter from Joshua,” she said, gesturing with her head toward the envelope on the kitchen counter.

  Luke doubted he could focus his eyes to decipher his kid brother’s scrawl. “His first letter of the new semester?”

  With a hand, Irene smoothed down her sandy blond hair. Plump, with delicate-looking features, she appeared a decade younger than her fifty-eight. “Yes, but he did call me last week.”

  Luke dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. “A request for money?”

  His mother returned his smile. “A little. He likes his new roommate. And he met a girl.”

  “Already?” Luke shook his head. His twenty-yearold brother made him feel ancient, but sixteen years separated them. Luke had ch
anged his diapers, taught him how to ride a bike and throw a ball, delivered the mandatory birds and bees talk and nudged him toward college. “He’s a fast worker.”

  Her eyes sparkling, Irene teased, “If I remember correctly, you were the same way when in college. Lots of girls. I thought you’d never marry.”

  “I had too much schooling to deal with to get serious about anyone.” Responsibility was something he’d never shied from. When his father had died, he’d been seventeen. He’d assumed the position as head of the household, sheltering his grief-stricken mother from menial tasks and the hoards of bills left after his father’s illness. He’d become the substitute father for his kid brother.

  Later he’d worked his tail off to put himself through medical school. He understood about hard work and obligations and fighting for what he wanted.

  His mother poured another cup of coffee and settled on a chair across the table from him. “Everyone in town believed you’d stay a bachelor, and then Valerie came to town to see her grandfather. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thanked Edwin for having such a lovely granddaughter,” she said with genuine affection.

  Luke decided silence might be best since his mother was in such a reminiscing mood.

  “Anyone could see how perfect you two were for each other. Agnes always says that my son and his wife are New Hope’s model couple.”

  Luke narrowed an eye. “Agnes, along with her bosom buddies Minny and Ethel, have something to say about everyone.”

  “Now be kind,” his mother admonished lightly. “They’re very sweet.”

  “Busybodies.”

  “Yes, that, too.” Her smile weakened. “About the twins. Everyone is still in shock.” She picked up a spoon, then set it down. “I can’t believe that Joe and Carrie are gone. It was so tragic, so quick. During the funeral, I felt as if there had to be a mistake. Those poor little girls orphaned like that.”