Married...With Twins!

by Jennifer Mikels

  “Me do it,” Traci insisted as Val stacked their lunch dishes in the dishwasher.

  Patiently Val waited while she completed the task. As usual, Traci switched from little helper to drummer in a second. Sitting on the floor, she happily banged a wooden spoon on several pots that she’d pulled from the cabinet.

  Val loaded clothes into the dryer. As Brooke passed by, dangling one of Luke’s shoes, she snatched it from her. “You can’t take that shoe into the sandbox.”

  Her little mouth puffed to a pout before she stomped outside to the tractor tire filled with sand. Val considered her momentary displeasure a lot less to deal with than Luke’s would be if he put on a shoe stuffed with sand.

  With both girls not together, she sensed defeat in keeping an eye on them. Choosing her oldest pot and spoon, she led Traci toward her sister.

  Plopped in the middle of the sand, Brooke poured it from one plastic container to another. As Traci scrambled in beside her, Brooke ladled some of the sand onto Traci’s knee.

  Val sensed what was coming next.

  Traci scooped up a handful of sand and gleefully watched it stream between her fingers over the laces of Brooke’s shoe.

  Their squeals wafted on the air. Busy covering each other with sand, they didn’t fight once. Goals bound people together. But she already knew that was true. Because of a determination to keep the girls, she and Luke were together again.

  A rare occasion occurred that evening. Luke came home early enough for them to arrive at the party on time. Val considered burying his beeper under a mountain of pillows, but her conscience resisted.

  While he called the hospital to check on several patients, she wandered into the bathroom and showered. One big question remained unanswered. Standing in front of her closet several minutes later, Val stalled in taking her dress from the hanger. “Are you still going?” she asked as Luke finally ambled into the bedroom. Often enough one phone call had changed their plans.

  “Still going.” He stripped off his shirt slowly, distracted by her wearing only an ivory-colored teddy. Sleek-looking, it emphasized her fragile slimness.’ With her bare shoulders and smooth back enticing him, he made a suggestion. “We could forget the party.”

  The intensity of the gaze moving over her in a slow, memorizing manner danced pleasure across her skin. “Too late to think about that.” Laughter rose in her voice. “They’d ring our phone off the hook, wondering where we were.”

  Not to be dissuaded, Luke started to move closer to her. The twins’ singing in the other room halted him. “They can’t be awake already,” he muttered more to himself than to her.

  It was impossible for Val to ignore him as he flung his shirt onto a nearby chair and mumbled something under his breath. “Do you have a problem?”

  In response to her airy tease, Luke stilled at the doorway. “Do you remember all the times the Russo sisters and their husbands joked about grabbing time in the afternoon while the kids napped?”

  Val recalled several conversations about hit-andmiss romance with kids around. “I remember.” Knowing the twins would tramp in soon, she slid on her robe.

  His imagination still fully engaged, Luke braced a shoulder against the doorjamb. “It might be fun.”

  Val raised her eyes from the tie on her robe. “What might be?”

  “Sneaking off with my wife,” he said before closing the door behind him.

  Amused, Val settled at her dressing table. After being so sure she’d never feel joy again, suddenly so much was with her. Brushing her hair, she smiled at the familiarity of the moment with him bellowing out his own version of “Chances Are” over the rush of: running water. This was how it used to be. This was how it could always be.

  At the patter of footsteps behind her, she paused in reaching for her eyeliner and raised her head. Her dressing table mirror reflected two grinning urchins on each side of her face. “Up from your naps?”

  “Aw done.” Brooke craned her neck to see the makeup on the dressing table.

  Val swiped the blusher brush at the small nose.

  “Let Traci see,” her sister insisted.

  Brooke beamed at her twin, then peered at herself in the mirror.

  They both laughed as Val dabbed some on Traci’s nose, too.

  “Makeup,” Brooke announced proudly at herself in the mirror.

  Val recalled comments from others with teenage daughters and had no doubt a few arguments loomed in the future about the same subject.

  Luke emerged from the bathroom to see the girls clumping around in Val’s heels while she finished applying her makeup. “You’ll never get ready at this rate.” Lightly he passed a hand over Val’s shoulder. “Come on, girls.”

  Val gave him merit points. Traci ran off with his shoes and Brooke chased her, dragging his tie.

  After giving them a suitable headstart, Luke managed to overtake them at the bottom step and snagged his shoes and tie from little hands. “Where are your puzzles?”

  “Me get,” Brooke volunteered, and raced her sister to the box of toys. As large wooden pieces spilled onto the floor with their tug of war over them, she scowled down at the puzzles. “Uh-oh.”

  Unable to stop a grin, Luke dropped to their level. “Uh-oh, is right.”

  With a little coaxing, he managed to get the girls to pick up the puzzles and settle on the floor with them in front of the television set.

  Zipping up her dress, Val stilled and listened. She heard nothing. From experience, she was learning to be more alert when the house got too quiet. Preparing for whatever, she peered over the railing.

  Nothing could have prepared her.

  On the carpet, Brooke was cross-legged while Traci sat lopsided with one leg tucked underneath her. Between them, Luke lay on his belly. Heads bent, the three of them concentrated on the giant puzzle pieces.

  “Here?” Traci held a puzzle piece in her hand above an empty spot in the puzzle board.

  “Here,” he answered, tickling her ribcage.

  In a fit of laughter, she fell into him. Rolling onto his back, he took her down with one arm and grabbed Brooke who’d pounced on him to join in the play.

  Touched, Val stepped back from the sight of him holding two giggling little girls. A mellow warmth stayed with her while she finished dressing.

  Neil and Cindy’s rambling ranch was ablaze with lights. The chance for rain that had threatened earlier had disappeared, but a humid breeze rustled the leaves of the giant oaks bordering the driveway.

  Strolling with Luke up the winding walkway to the house, Val couldn’t resist a tease. “Did you have fun playing today?”

  “Lord, they’re exhausting.” His lips curved in a wry grin. “How do you do it?”

  “I am woman.”

  Luke gave her a slow once-over, his eyes sweeping down the cool blue, tea-length dress. She looked stunning. Unable to resist, he curled a hand over her hip intimately. “Yes, you definitely are.”

  Before they could ring the doorbell, Cindy was opening the door. Her dimples winking at them, she was dressed in a sparkling green cocktail dress. “You’re fashionably on time,” she said lightly as she ushered them to the backyard.

  Twice a year, Cindy and Neil threw the town’s best barbecues. The one earlier in the summer had included swimming, hamburgers and hot dogs, corn on the cob and the usual picnic fare, plus volleyball and swimming for the kids. Their Autumn bash was formal, parents only, complete with appetizers, a catered buffet dinner plus Neil’s specialty-cornish hens

  roasting on the spit-dancing, and white-jacketed

  college students serving champagne.

  With her hand in Luke’s, Val wandered with him past Cindy’s prize-winning rosebushes to a stone walkway that led to the pool area and beyond that a fruit orchard.

  “She spent four days in Dallas shopping,” Fred Henderson said about his wife to the couple beside them, “while I sat in a stuffy conference room.”

  “Wonderful trip,” his wife chirped between
sips of champagne.

  Val smiled at their easy banter after twenty years of marriage.

  Subdued male laughter drifted from the area around the giant barbecue pit that Neil had built himself, something he never failed to remind anyone who’d listen. Watching Pricilla Barrington’s love, Jake Spencer, cock his cowboy hat and distractedly glance away, Val guessed that Neil was explaining his brickby-brick labors. Since mingling was always the game plan at Cindy’s parties, Val chose the best person, in her opinion, to do that with. “I’m going over by Jenny,” she said after locating her near the pool talking to Pricilla.

  Luke made eye contact with Mitch McCord who looked trapped in conversation with Barbara Fleming, the mayor’s wife. He read Mitch’s silent message to be rescued. “Don’t wander too far.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Neil seems to have hired a decent band this year. I’d like to dance.”

  The smile in his eyes looked the same way in the soft light of morning when they were filled with passion. “I’ll save the first for you.”

  “And the last.”

  As his hand brushed her arm, Val stroked his cheek. “I always leave with the man I come with,” she said with a seductive promise before breezing out of his arm’s length.

  Chatter circled the yard beneath the sparkling Italian lights strung along the patio and the outside of white canopies. Val inched her way past couples, answering their greetings.

  The moment she drew near, Jenny snagged her arm. “Everyone is talking about your grandfather.”

  Lord, now what? On other occasions, he’d raised his fists and challenged one teenager who’d been rude to the minister’s wife, he’d gotten a megaphone and had declared to anyone who’d listened that a body shop owner who’d quoted one price to him had overcharged him.

  “Excuse me,” Pricilla piped in. “But my honey definitely needs help,” she said about Jake.

  “I overheard,” Cindy suddenly said. “Are you talking about Edwin and Myrna Tray nor?”

  “Who isn’t?” Jenny answered, scooting Val along by the elbow as Cindy urged her toward the buffet table.

  Surveying the table burdened with food, Val chose a shrimp hors d’oeuvre. She thought everyone was jumping to conclusions about her grandfather and Myrna.,

  “I have it on good authority that Myrna-is having a romantic dinner with him tonight,” Cindy said speculatively, and looked at Val for confirmation. “Beatrice Elwood and Adelaide Simpson are green with envy.”

  “Who is the good authority?” Val asked, wondering who was gossiping about her grandfather.

  “Agnes, Minny and Ethel.”

  Jenny released an unladylike snort.

  Val, too, had her doubts about the accuracy of their gossip. Though she found it difficult to believe that her grandfather had changed feelings he’d maintained about her grandmother since she’d died ten years ago, she’d like to believe he was truly interested in Myrna.

  Cindy swiveled her head away for a second, then leaned conspiratorially close. “I think they’re perfect for each other,” she declared.

  Munching on a crisp, miniature spring roll, Jenny stretched for a cocktail napkin. “Who? Myrna and Val’s grandfather?”

  “Oh, I hope so, but I meant Michael and Michelle. Valerie should know.” Cindy pointed in the direction of a spinach dip. “You must try this.”

  Val looked past colleagues of Luke’s who were intense in their discussion. Michael and Michelle stood with their heads bent toward each other as they shared a laugh. She could remember easily now the time when she and Luke had been so in love that no one else existed. “What should I know?” she asked in regard to Cindy’s comment.

  “You have the perfect marriage, so you’d be the best judge.”

  Deceit never set well with Val. We sure had you all fooled, she mused. With their expectant looks, she shrugged. “What can anyone tell about another couple.”

  “Everyone always could tell that you and Lucas were wonderful together,” Cindy insisted.

  Val had always considered herself quick-witted enough to dodge the most uncomfortable moments. “You could describe a lot of people in this town that way. What about Pricilla and Jake?”

  They stared for only a second as if thinking, then nodded in unison.

  Affectionately, Val nudged Jenny with an elbow. “Or you and Mitch?”

  Jenny beamed. “She has a point. We are perfect together.”

  Along with Cindy, Val laughed. Across the room she saw Neil bending Luke’s ear about something. His head turned, his eyes capturing hers as she sank her teeth into the hors d’oeuvre. Her blood warmed with a look, one she never had trouble reading. He wanted them to be alone.

  “Oh, my.” The tease edging Cindy’s voice grabbed Val’s attention. “You two sometimes still act like a just-married couple,” she said about the lengthy stare Val had shared with Luke. “I suppose when a marriage is so good, the honeymoon never ends.”

  “It will now,” Barbara Fleming interrupted, joining them. “There is no way you’re going to play lovebirds with a set of two-year-olds running around.”

  “They are everywhere,” Val admitted. “It’s amazing the energy they have.”

  Barbara tipped her head curiously. “Do you have the new mother syndrome?”

  “What’s that?” Val asked, reaching for another shrimp.

  “Tired, tired, tired.”

  “Luke helps a lot,” she murmured between chews, and thought to ask Cindy about the crabmeat stuffing. “So it’s not too hard on me.”

  “Having someone does help,” Barbara murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t know what poor Faith Harper will do. Being alone and pregnant.”

  Another exchange with Jenny was all that was needed to know they were of one mind. After so many years of friendship, sometimes words didn’t need to be said. Jenny was as uncomfortable as Val was about gossip regarding Faith.

  “Have you seen Faith recently?” Cindy asked, also not seeming inclined to appease Barbara’s gossipy nature.

  Val shot a look at Jenny. Neither of them had seen nor talked to Faith yesterday. “I saw her two weeks ago at Wendy Wilcox’s house,” Val went on, hoping to direct the conversation down a more positive path. “And when Faith left, we mentioned a baby shower for her.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Cindy paused one of the white-jacketed men serving champagne and handed a fluted glass to Val. “You don’t have one of these.” She took a glass for herself before going on. “We should show Faith that her friends are behind her.”

  “Yes, a good idea,” Barbara replied, but looked away.

  If she wanted to find someone to gossip with and who’d be less loyal to Faith, Val could have told her that she wouldn’t find that person at the party.

  Having wound a path toward the buffet table, Luke stood only feet away now and was deep in conversation with the mayor.

  Jenny’s soft giggle drew Val’s attention back to her. “I bet Luke is being hustled into playing the piano at this year’s annual club talent show.”

  Watching Luke’s expression turn more serious, Val gave Jenny only a semblance of a smile. Something else was being discussed. A flicker of worry-knit Luke’s brow for a second.

  “Valerie, is something wrong?”

  By Jenny’s question, she realized she was frowning. “I don’t know. But I plan to find out.” Stepping away, she inched her way past Travis Donovan talking to the mayor’s visiting niece and sidestepped a group gathered around Michael and Michelle. As she neared Luke, his gaze met hers. Val smiled at Morten Fleming, the town’s mayor.

  Silver hair crowned a face with soft features and sparkling eyes. “I would have called you with this news,” Morten was saying, “but I didn’t learn about it until minutes before I was ready to leave for the party. When I called your house, Irene said you’d already left. So I thought I’d share what I’ve been hearing when I saw you here. Nothing definite, you understand.”

  Instinctively Val slipped her
hand in Luke’s.

  “Morten saw the state worker’s initial report about us,” he said as an explanation.

  The mayor beamed. “She wrote that the Dawson twins are right where they belong.”

  Val felt a bubble of pleasure sweep through her. “That’s wonderful.”

  “She said that unless her study uncovers something unexpected, she couldn’t see any reason why the girls shouldn’t stay where they’ll be happiest. Where they are right now,” he added.

  Val barely restrained her elation.

  “So I’m glad to say that it really looks good for you two.”

  “Thanks, Morten, for telling us.” Luke felt her shift against him.

  “Glad to do it.” He looked somewhat amused. “So what is it like, being parents to those youngsters?”

  Luke thought of the toilet paper trail, the overflowing toilet, the endless nighttime rituals. “Interesting. Fun,” he admitted. Despite all the work, not a day went by without laughter.

  Val felt easier about expressing her true feelings to others now. “They are wonderful,” Val said. “They follow me everywhere. And Traci loves imitating tasks. We dust together. And Brooke joined Luke while he shaved the other morning. She used her toothbrush.”

  Morten chuckled. “You sound like proud parents.” In a gesture that denoted friendship more than political graciousness, he closed his hands over Val’s. “Everyone is behind you.”

  Val answered with another thank you. Morten had said something similar at Kelly’s funeral. Too close to letting sad memories slip in, Val curled an arm around Luke’s back. “How about that dance?”

  With her hand in his, Luke zigzagged a path around clusters of people and led her onto the small platform of a gazebo set up for dancing.

  The night air whispered across Val’s bare arms with an unnatural warmth for October. When Luke gathered her in his arms, she rested her cheek against his face. “This has to make a difference,” she said, unable to contain her excitement. “If we’re recommended, then why would they give the twins to Charlene?”

  Pulling back, he saw a glow on her face, a brightness in her eyes that had been gone for so long. Dancing seemed too public suddenly. “Let’s walk,” he urged, wanting to be alone with her and away from the party. Not letting her go, he led her toward the orchard at the back of the property.