The Baby Twins

by Laura Marie Altom

  "Sorry," he said, brushing past her when she gestured for him to come in from the cold.

  His cab drove off.

  "I know I should've called, but I've been flying for days, and saw there was an early flight out for Little Rock, and—"

  With Brady inside, out of the cold, Stephanie closed the door and pulled him into a hug. All anger was gone. In its place a quivery sense of relief. "I tried calling, but—"

  "I'm sorry. I haven't even been home."

  "It's all right." The longer he held her, the better she felt. He smelled of the damp outdoors. Of sweet wood smoke from a neighbor's fire. The leather of his jacket.

  "I feel terrible about how defensive I was with you," he said, his words mingling with his warm exhalations into her hair. "I couldn't wait to see you. Explain."

  Nodding against the wall of his chest, she said, "I called to apologize. I shouldn't have needled you. What happened between you and Clarissa is none of my business."

  Releasing her, he tucked flyaway curls behind her ears. "By bringing up the subject, I made it your business."

  "Doesn't matter," she said, helping him remove his coat. "I just want to go back to us being friends."

  "Me, too," he said, catching her gaze and holding it longer than usual. He looked hungry for something. But what? "How are the girls?"

  "Snoozing," she said, covering a yawn. "Finally. They were up most of the night tag-teaming me with wet diapers and hungry wails." She sat cross-legged on the sofa, patting the cushion next to her.

  "How do you do it?" he asked on his way over. "Clarissa and I used to take turns with Lola and we still always felt like zombies."

  "You know how it is. You do what you have to."

  "Yeah." He leaned his head back, stretching out his legs. "What'd you do over the holiday?"

  "Moped. With Mom off on a singles' cruise, it just wasn't the same. She's the one who makes the bulk of the meal."

  His hand warming her knee, he said, "Aside from moping, what else did you do?"

  "Lisa and I made spaghetti and watched chick flicks." Laughing from the disaster of it, she said, "It was like the anti-Turkey Day. Right down to frozen cheesecake for dessert instead of pumpkin pie." After a moment of silence, she asked, "How about you? Were you with Lola?"

  He nodded.

  "Well?" she prompted. "How was it? Did you two get any quality time?"

  "A little. We went to a dinner and movie. At Dave & Buster's she beat me at Skee-Ball like twenty times in a row."

  Laughing, Steph said, "Ouch. That had to wound your male pride."

  "A wee bit." He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "But the size of Lola's grin more than made up for my bashed ego. At least we were talking."

  "I'm sorry," Stephanie said.

  "About what?"

  "Everything you're going through," she said. "Loving your kid shouldn't have to be so hard."

  "It's not Lola that's the problem. I played a huge role in the person she's become." Growing reflective, he rubbed his whisker-stubbled jaw. "FYI—I took what you said to heart. You know, about me partially to blame for what went down between Vince and Clarissa."

  "Oh?" She'd wondered if he'd broach the subject.

  "I asked my mom about it. She said I practically invited my brother and wife to have an affair."

  "How so?" Shifting her position, she leaned closer to him.

  "Working too much. I thought I was doing good by my family, but maybe not."

  "I don't buy it," she said, thinking back to the long times she and Michael had spent apart. "Michael was constantly gone. That didn't mean I ran right out to cheat on him."

  "Good point." Taking a throw pillow from the end of the sofa, he messed with the fringe. "But to hear Mom talk, you'd think I gave them an engraved invitation to play me for a fool."

  "While you were in Seattle, did you talk with Clarissa about it?"

  "No." A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  "How come?"

  "What's the point? When I approached my mom, I was genuinely trying to make sense of it all. You know, what I could've done differently. I admit, I should've spent more time at home, but that doesn't excuse her actions."

  "Of course not." Her heart ached for him. But what could she do? "I should never have said you didn't make Clarissa happy."

  "Even though it was true?" The hoarseness of his tone revealed his pain. "The crazy thing is," he added with a sad laugh, "in my mind and heart, I really did try making her feel like the most cherished person in my life. That's why I know the whole happily-ever-after routine isn't for me. I tried—and failed miserably."

  Chapter Eleven

  "Mmm…" Stephanie said early that afternoon, tilting her face back to drink in the sun. The morning's gray skies had been short-lived, and with no wind and temperatures in the midsixties, it had turned out to be a gorgeous day. "This is a treat."

  With Brady in town, she'd skipped church, opting instead for a picnic in nearby Roaring Falls National Forest. The girls giggled and shrieked in the infant swings. Brady pushed Michaela while Stephanie pushed Melanie. The fact that Brady got along so well with her girls made her all the sadder for his declaration of being a failure at love.

  At this time of year, the park was nearly empty aside from an RV and an orange camper van. What few leaves were still in the trees rustled in the warm breeze.

  "This is nice," Brady said. "Just what I needed."

  "Glad we could oblige." She winked before giving Melanie another light push. "How long are you staying?"

  "Just today. I'm on call Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, but then I'm off for two days. I thought I'd take Lola up to the mountains. There was an early snow and it's about time she learned to ski."

  "Sounds fun," she said, oddly disappointed.

  Michaela began to fuss.

  "Is that a diaper cry?" Brady asked. "Or her I'm-tired-of-swinging cry?"

  "Maybe both," Stephanie said, glad for the distraction.

  Sure enough, her firstborn smelled suspicious, so while Steph changed her, Brady took Melanie from her swing to the old quilt they'd spread on a grassy slope.

  "Hungry?" After dousing herself in hand sanitizer, Stephanie grabbed the paper sack she'd loaded with ham-and-cheese sandwiches, pretzels and day-old sugar cookies she'd brought home from the shop.

  "Always," he said, breaking into a plastic baggie.

  "Sorry I couldn't scrounge up anything fancier."

  He shrugged. "No sweat. I'm a simple guy. Not really the wine and brie type."

  With the babies contentedly gnawing on teething biscuits, Stephanie served herself. "I've never had brie. Is it good?"

  Seesawing his hand, he said, "Kind of bland. You haven't missed much."

  "I've missed everything." She hadn't meant for the words to slip out, but now that they had, she dove in with a confession. "Michael and I had such plans. After his tour in Iraq, he was going to retire from the military and focus on his work as a commercial pilot. We talked about using his flight privileges to travel the world." With the sleeves of her red sweatshirt, she daubed her stinging eyes.

  "Not to sound like an insensitive jerk," he said in a soft, kind tone, "but why can't you still experience your life to the fullest? You're too young to give up."

  "I've hardly given up," she snapped, fighting a fresh swell of tears. "Take a look at my reality. In the girls, I've got a 24/7 job. My hours at the shop aren't much better. I steal maybe an hour or two each night for my self, and that's usually spent doing laundry."

  Drawing her into a hug, the sun and the strength of his arms drenching her in hope, she almost dared believe life wouldn't always be so hard.

  "You've got to learn to ask for help, Steph."

  Shaking her head, she admitted, "I won't be a burden to anyone else."

  "Did you ever stop to think that all of your friends—Lisa and Gabby and Olivia—love you? Do you honestly think they consider you a nuisance?"

  "I would," she said with a sn
iffle.

  "Bull." Even though he drew back, he still kept hold of her hand. "You're one of the most kindhearted souls I've ever met. What this all comes down to is letting yourself go—not like never washing your hair again, but in releasing your superhuman need for control."

  "Control?" That bit of lunacy nearly had her choking on a bite of sandwich. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't have control of much of anything." Least of all, my feelings for you.

  * * *

  "DAD, DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS?" Lola complained when Brady headed his Jeep toward the playground at the park near her home. He'd had to scrap their ski trip because of a flu making its way through TransGlobal's pilots. He hadn't been sick, but he was plenty weary of covering for puking crews. "I'm almost nine. Can't we just go to the mall?"

  "Your birthday's not until July. And since when do you shop?" he asked, pulling into an empty parking space in front of the swings.

  "My friend Becky says only nerds wear clothes not from the mall. I don't want to be a nerd, so she says I have to go to Abercrombie."

  "Since this is the same friend who got you grounded because of her foolproof plan to reunite your mother and me, you might want to ignore her." Turning off the engine, he angled to face his scowling child.

  "You don't know anything."

  "And you obviously haven't gotten the news that you can't do something just because someone else tells you to. What does your own head say?"

  She shrugged.

  Hand to his forehead, he sighed.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing."

  "Then how come you're so mad? All I did was ask if we could go to the mall." Her brown eyes sucked him in. He wanted to remain calm and rational, but whenever he was around her, something came up to remind him of just how little he knew his own daughter.

  "I'm not mad," he said, thumping the heel of his hand against the wheel. "I'm frustrated. Lola, I miss you. I moved back to Seattle, but we still don't seem to connect. Not the way we used to."

  "I miss you, too, Dad, but how are we supposed to be friends when you're flying all the time and when you're not doing that, Mom said Stephanie's your floozy girlfriend and you're shacking up with her."

  Hearing that kind of language coming from his innocent child filled him with fury. What the hell was Clarissa thinking? "What does floozy mean?" she asked, pulling down the sun visor presumably to check out her newly straightened hair. "I asked, but she said I was too young to know. But then I got to wondering, if she thinks I'm still a baby, then why was she even saying stuff like that around me?"

  "I don't have a clue, but once we get back from the mall, we're going to find out."

  Three hours, six shopping bags and two Chick-fil-A combo meals later, Brady pulled the car up to the curb of what used to be his home. Now, it was just a house. The mere sight of the timber and river stone A-frame he'd been so proud of turned his stomach. The views of Puget Sound he'd once found mesmerizing failed to stir him.

  "Dad?" Lola asked, taking his hand as they approached the front door. Her uncharacteristic affectionate touch warmed him more than the rare Seattle sun.

  "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Are you and Mom going to fight? Because if you are, I'm going to my tree house."

  A muscle ticking in his jaw, he gave Lola's hand a firm squeeze before saying, "I don't want to fight, but just in case, you might want to call over that neighbor girl you like. What's her name? Lizzie? Loretta?"

  "Lauren," she said with a glare. "Why can't you ever remember?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes." Arms crossed, she stared hard out the passenger-side window.

  "I'll try harder, okay?" He gave her hair a tousle.

  Flinching, she snapped, "No, you won't. You care about everyone on the planet more than me." Tears slid down her still adorably chubby cheeks.

  "That's not true, and you know it." He tried hugging her, but she pushed him away.

  "Prove it."

  "How?" He'd already moved to Seattle. What more proof did she need?

  "Prove you love me more than that Stephanie lady. Mom says she has baby twins. Do you like her more than Mom because her babies are cuter than me?"

  Drawing her into a hug, and this time holding on no matter how hard she struggled, he kissed the top of her head. When she finally stopped crying and went limp in his arms, he said, "You're crazy. No baby—or little girl—could ever be cuter than you."

  "P-promise?" Her red-eyed sniffles shattered him.

  "Absolutely." What was going through Lola's head that she'd even wonder about him loving another kid more than her? "Tell you what, how about the next time I see Steph and her girls, you come along for the ride? Does that sound fun? You like babies, don't you?"

  "Y-yeah…I guess." Twirling a lock of her hair, she asked, "They don't smell bad, do they?"

  "No. But if they do, I'll bet Steph would let you change their diapers."

  "Eeuw!" She pretended to look disgusted, but a hint of a grin and the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. "Can I go with you right now?"

  "I don't know about us leaving right this second, but as soon as we clear it with your mom and you have a school break, I'm sure Steph would love having you for a visit."

  * * *

  "YOU'VE ALREADY SUNK LOW enough to sleep with my brother," Brady said under his breath to Clarissa even though Lola was safely out of earshot in the backyard, "but I never imagined you'd stoop to turning my own daughter against me."

  "How exactly did I do that?" She slammed a can of green beans on the counter. She'd been grocery shopping, and was putting them away when he'd brought their daughter home. "Honestly, Brady, you've always been such a drama queen."

  Taking a deep breath, he said, "Why'd you tell Lola I'm shacking up with a floozy? You and Steph used to be friends."

  "I never said anything of the sort." Out of a paper bag came boxes of Cheerios, three brands of crackers and the oatmeal pies Lola had loved since she'd first had teeth. "She's been running with a foulmouthed crowd at school. I'm sure one of them said it."

  "Cut the B.S., Rissa. Why do you have such a hard time telling the truth?"

  "Me?" She snorted. "Don't get me started on how many times you promised to cut back on your precious flight schedule to stay home with me, only to call at the last minute, telling me you weren't coming home. You want to talk lies, Brady, you can damn well start there."

  Fighting with everything in him not to match her angry tone, he clenched a fist. "Where do you get off, bitching about my long hours at work, doing everything I could to put you and Lola up in this gorgeous home, when all the time you were screwing my brother behind my back?"

  "That's ancient history," she snapped. "Get over it."

  Refusing to waste one more minute of his life on senseless arguing with a woman whose only admirable quality had been giving birth to their daughter, he straightened his shoulders. Through gritted teeth, he said, "I have never asked one thing of you. I gave you this house. Your car. Have never been so much as a day late on child support. So over Lola's Christmas break, consider her mine."

  "But I always have her over the holidays. What will our families say?"

  "I don't give a damn. All I know is that I've wasted years with Lola, and I won't throw away one second more. If you want to fight me on this, I'll be all too happy to sue for joint custody."

  "You wouldn't?" She'd gripped a loaf of white bread so tightly that it was now nearly flattened.

  "Try me. I'm tired of always being the one turning the other cheek. What I'm asking isn't unreasonable. Aside from my few weekends, you and my brother have her the rest of the year."

  * * *

  BY THE TIME BRADY HASHED OUT the details, letting Lola in on the fact that she'd spend the holidays with him in Arkansas, he was not only exhausted, but running late for his return commuter hop to Dallas. Thank God, he wasn't scheduled to fly, or he'd have called in sick.

  Once he reached the gate, it was full.

 
Crying babies. Corporate executives ticking away on their iPhones and BlackBerries. Families bickering over who was to stand watch over the carry-ons while the lucky ones headed out to forage for food. Just a few days earlier, all of this had felt normal. Now, he walked like a stranger through what used to be his home away from home.

  He'd expected that having Lola for Christmas would finally banish the gnawing emptiness inside. It helped, but he still didn't feel complete.

  Pulling out his cell, he walked a short way to the nearest empty gate before punching in Steph's number.

  She answered on the third ring. After exchanging pleasantries, she asked, "How was your visit with Lola?"

  "Better than usual. Which was nice. Even though I've been seeing her more, I only just now learned my little girl religiously uses a hair straightener and shops at mall stores where I'm pretty sure the noise decibels are well over the legal limit."

  Laughing, Steph said, "Mmm…Guess I've got that times two to look forward to, huh?"

  "Not to mention shelling out an obscene amount of money for what couldn't have been more than a half yard of fabric."

  "You're funny. Definitely a daddy who needs more training in the how-to-raise-a-female department."

  "Interesting you should say that," he said, pride ringing through his voice. "I just happened to land a pretty major prize that I hope will teach me more about my daughter."

  "What happened? Did you reconcile with Clarissa?" Was that concern in her tone? As though his being taken off the market would be a bad thing?

  "Not a chance, but Lola's going to spend her entire Christmas break with me, and I'm hoping this isn't presumptuous, but I—we—are planning a ski trip, and then we'd like to spend a couple of days with you and your girls. Lola's excited to meet them."

  "That's great, but I am going to need details. What are the dates you'll be here? What are her favorite foods? What size does she wear so I can pick up a few gifts. What—"

  "Slow down," Brady said with a relieved chuckle. He'd been holding his breath while waiting for her reply. Now that he sensed Stephanie was as excited about his daughter's visit as he was, his heart went out to her a little more. "I've got a full flight schedule for the next three days, but after that—if it's all right with you—I'll stop by so we can make plans."