In the morning, Ben took me to the house site. A wooden skeleton stood waiting to grow a roof and brick walls. He talked on and on.
"Ten thousand square feet of prairie mission-style house. A black marble fireplace with a solid oak mantel. It will be a perfect spot for my Christmas clock. Another fireplace in the master suite. We'll hang the babies' portraits above it. Stained-glass panes in the dining room to separate it from the living room. Built-in cabinets for our family heirlooms. A media room. We won't be able to go out as much. A pool table. The kids need to learn how to play. Make them well-rounded and able to hustle for drinks in college. A full sauna and whirlpool in the basement. Probably need a bed down there, too, just in case we can't make it back upstairs. Colors will be muted blues, greens, and browns. All soothing and comfortable. I'm sure the kids will want black and tangerine rooms later. Wood everywhere. Recessed lighting throughout the house. Totally wired for sound and computers. The loft will be here, which will connect to the house."
If I had to be interviewed by Palaces Beautiful, because of this house, I'd hit him.
"No tennis court or stables?" I asked.
"Are you serious? If not, the house should be ready by Mother's Day. My job is to get it built—your job is to make it livable. I know some interior designers and furniture makers. Knock yourself out."
"This will cost a lot of money."
"Spend whatever you need. Remember I want to be comfortable."
And live like a lord. I still tried to catch up to the lifestyle. My children would be raised in it and wouldn't know the difference.
For the next few weeks, he went to the museum in his work clothes. The 'B' room was all his. Helen had written all of the books for him, but this one was truly his own.
He was the original muse.
Another trip to the house and I didn't feel right. The flipping hormones, the need to pee with every step, and the crying jags were all the extra bonuses. Besides the weight gain and growing back pain, my ankles were as round as bowls and my hips were armrests.
Ben trotted down the rickety shell of stairs and put his arm around me. As he led me back to the car, I cried.
"Can you tell me what's wrong? Is it the house, the museum, or me?" he asked, rubbing my shoulder.
Or the pains that came at five-minute intervals since I woke up?
I felt a twitch in my back as he helped me into the car. Oh no.
"How about lunch?" Ben asked, driving down the country road.
"Can we get it to go? I think I'm in labor."
The scenery blurred, and my mind joined it. Four weeks early. I paged through my maternity books in my mind. Twins added to the probability of premature birth. Check breathing for lung problems, could have jaundice or anemia. Some learning disabilities were possible, others manifested as the children grew older. Ben spoke, but I couldn't respond. My whole being focused on the intense spasms in my lower back. How many had I had since breakfast? It didn't matter. I forced myself to concentrate and breathe. I fished my phone out of my purse and texted Tad's office, Irene, and Eleanor.
The car roared up to the hospital emergency doors. No broken glass, just tripped the sensors, opening them wide. A woman appeared with a wheelchair. Ben's ashen complexion made him look like he needed it more than me.
"I'm Gina. Maternity, or is he having a heart attack?" she asked, helping me in the chair.
We both watched him grow paler.
"I'm just your average baby whale in search of my pod. I can't speak for him. Is it too much to have someone unpeel his hands from the steering wheel and park the car?"
"Happens all the time. Give me expectant moms over expectant dads any day," she said, wheeling me down the hall.
We left Ben and took the elevator to the birthing center.
"Are you having twins or did you swallow a golf bag?" she asked.
"Do I look that bad?"
I hadn't been near a mirror since that morning. I ran my fingers through my hair as if it would help.
"Nothing personal. Check your waist, notice you're longer as opposed to wider," she said.
"Is this the part where the alien bursts out of my chest?" I asked as I spread my hands over my appendage, formerly known as my waist.
"Somebody's gonna be busting out soon, but they will be aiming lower."
The doors slid open, and we almost crashed into Irene.
"Where's your dumbass husband?" she asked.
"How did you get here so fast?"
"I planned to inspect your future fortress and got your text when I was a mile away."
"It's against the law to check your phone when you drive."
I winced as one of my children sucker-punched my spleen or bladder or cervix. Obviously, I flunked high school biology, but it still hurt.
"You can arrest me as soon as you finish here."
The stairwell door flew open, and a crazed Ben emerged.
"Thank God, I thought I missed it." He marched up to me, thanked Gina, and took the handles of the chair from her. Irene fell into step with him.
"We've had women give birth in the lobby," Gina said.
At least, I made it upstairs, but now all bets were off. These children either had an expiring time-share or forgot to tape their favorite shows because they grappled with each other to get out.
"Irene, prompt as ever," he said, pushing me down the hall. "We'll find our room, get you a mitt, and see if you can catch the first one on the fly."
"I…" she said.
"Will wait patiently for Eleanor. I won't be long," I said, seizing my stomach and squeezing my knees together.
We went through another set of doors. A few nurses approached us.
"Are you Alexia Hale?" one asked.
"It should be Alexia Hale-Cobb," he said, a definite edge to his tone.
"We got the information from the doctor's office. The insurance company…" the other one said.
"Could we visit tomorrow? Now, I need a doctor or a plumber," I said through gritted teeth.
"You the dad?" asked a nurse from the closest room. Ben nodded then wheeled me toward her.
"Everything off," she said then looked at Ben. "Then you help her onto the bed. I'm April, and the doctor's on his way."
As soon as I had my clothes off, he set me on the bed. April covered me with a thin sheet and put my discarded clothes in a plastic bag that she quickly labeled Cobb.
"You're a professional," I said after she turned to me and slipped my arms into a gown. I spread it over me and left the sheet under it tucked around me.
"I like to think so. Dad," she pointed at Ben, "have a seat, and don't interrupt."
"Thank you, ma'am, may I have another," he said as he sat.
"You are not my priority."
"Understood, please care for her."
"I like him. Now, have you had any alcohol or illegal substances in the last twenty-four hours?" April asked, holding a folder and a pen.
"No, I must have missed those suggestions in the prenatal care books," I said.
"You wouldn't believe the lengths women will go to for pain relief," she said.
"A couple more hours and I'll be ready for any and all pharmaceuticals."
"That's the spirit." She made a notation and put down the chart.
"If you feel faint or nauseous," she said to Ben, "then leave. Don't tell me you're hungry, thirsty, warm, cold, bored, or tired." She pulled up my gown and strapped a black belt tightly around my body.
"Yes ma'am," he said.
"You, on the other hand," she said, putting her hand on my arm. "Need to tell me if you're uncomfortable. I want you calm. If your heart rate goes up, theirs does too."
My worry meter ticked up a notch. The babies were early, and I focused on every problem I wasn't supposed to read about, namely preemies' challenges. The tears started streaming down my face.
"Alexia, look at me." I turned to him, and he stood up and came to my side. He put his hands on my cheeks. "Listen, we will do our
best. It's a given our children will want for nothing. They will be at the pinnacle of Chicago society because they are my children. They will be brilliant, beautiful, and spectacular because they are your children. They have everything going for them. I intend to devote myself to their health, happiness, and well-being. I'm hoping to be half as good as you are. All will be well. Our children will thrive and succeed. They will exceed all of our expectations. We are blessed, and they are, too."
He brought his face closer and kissed me.
"Please try to relax and leave all the freaking out to me," he said.
"You probably think I'm a lunatic," I said, wiping my face on the sheet.
"No, I think you have too much on your mind. When the babies are here, life as we have known it will cease. Maybe you should start a list of your concerns. The ultimate to do list. What we still need, where you see any problems, sexual positions you're dying to try, anything that pops into your head. We can review it every couple of days. All right?"
"Yeah," I said.
He kissed me again, trying to reassure and relax me. It didn't help, but I appreciated the effort.
"Okay, playtime is over, "April said.
She angled a machine closer to the bed and fiddled with a knob. The room filled with double time pounding. I felt the babies move, and the rates sped up. My heart raced to meet them.
April stalked over, took his hand, picked up my hand, and joined them.
"Soothing words, sweet caresses, and heartfelt musings would be helpful now," she said as she stood at my feet and adjusted them in the stirrups. "I don't hear any talking."
"Did we decide on names?" he asked, kissing my hand and resting his head on my pillow.
"It has never made it to the top of my to do list. How about Museum and Mansion?" I asked.
"Are we having a boy and a girl?" he asked.
"No official confirmation because I haven't asked, but I've seen them in my dreams." Severe pain rose from inside and outside my lady parts. "What the hell are you doing to me?" I asked April, struggling to sit up.
The monitor beeped faster as April poked at my cervix.
"A quick knock, see if anyone wants to come out and scream. You're dilated to three centimeters, so today's the blessed day. I'm going to find the doctor," she said, snapping off her gloves.
"It's too soon. They're not done yet," I said as I started to cry again.
"Alexia, they're not a cake in the oven. They've decided they're cramped in there. We will do whatever we need to do," Ben said.
April came back in with Tad.
"You're a few weeks early, but the twins have decided it's a moot point. We're moving you to an operating room as a precaution. The babies are a good size. They may push for the exit too hard. I want to establish what positions they're in," Tad said.
"Both are neck and neck, and it could be a photo finish. Or they are at the one-yard line," Ben said.
"Anymore sports metaphors, and I'll have you neutered. There are a lot of sharp objects within my reach," I said to his smirking face.
"Don't kid an almost fully effaced woman. The line between love and hate is fraying, and you're in the middle. Keep comments short and sweet. If you're joining us, you need to change. I apologize in advance for the lack of black scrubs," Tad said to Ben as he left.
"I love you," Ben said, then leaned over me for a quick kiss.
"Me too," I said, and the tears started again.
Ben held me as April inserted a scary needle in my arm for an IV drip of murky fluid then he left. She unplugged the baby monitor. Some more people came in, maneuvered me onto a gurney and out into the hall. We pushed through a set of double doors.
"Where are you taking her?" Irene asked as she stood, blocking the bed.
"We're her sisters and demand to know her condition," Eleanor added.
"I'm in fucking labor. Unless you two know something about birthing babies, get the hell out of the way," I said.
April laughed as they stepped aside and seemed afraid of me. Whatever pumped through my veins, I needed to place an order for a few cases to go.
We entered a bright, cold, and sterile room. I was transferred to a flat table and rolled on my side. A few sharp pinches to my back and the pain subsided. I lost my gown and gained yards of sky blue sheets. April scooped up my hair and put it in a cap. Next, she put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and taped a stethoscope to my chest. I heard the door open, and Ben sat down next to me. He resembled a Hollywood TV doctor in the scrubs, mask, and booties.
"Wow, blue is a good color for you," I said.
The monitor beeped as my heart rate sped up by a few beats. Medically proving I thought my husband was hot. April circled behind us.
"Oh, it's you making her flutter. I thought she'd passed out," she said to Ben. "Pay attention, this is your side, and this is the anesthesiologist's side."
She drew an imaginary line down the center of my body with her hand.
"Thank you for taking the time to explain everything to me. I appreciate your concern and attention to detail," he said.
"I bet you do," Tad said as he strode in. "Alexia, I didn't know you travelled with beautiful bodyguards. I was detained in the hall and pummeled with questions. I told them if they delayed me any longer, the babies would be in high school."
"Sorry, my sisters are protective of me."
"That's good. Hopefully, they will watch Ben very closely," Tad said.
"Thanks, allow me to cancel your free vacation to my father's resort in Cancun," Ben said.
I tried to hoist my knees up as I felt the pressure of my children ripping apart my spine.
"Shut up, and do your jobs," I said.
Tad laughed as he put a hand on my rock hard abdomen.
"I like a feisty and demanding mistress," Ben whispered.
Forty-five minutes later, I grabbed his shirt as the pressure broke along with my water. Suction from a vacuum, then a cry, another cry.
"Houston, we have liftoff," Tad said.
"No humor, remember? Are the babies okay?" I asked.
"Yes," April said. "A boy and, three minutes later a girl. Small, but good vitals."
Ben exhaled and wiped his eyes. I took his hand and kissed it.
"Good job, Daddy," I said as I started to cry again.
The baby bundles were brought over to him. He cradled them and kissed each one on the forehead. The first sight of our children with him overwhelmed me. I cried as he leaned closer so I could touch them. Tiny, but warm.
"With all the hot peppers you've been eating, I was afraid they would be born breathing fire," he said with a smile.
"Or with discriminating palates." A mixture of elation and relief spread through me. And the sexy meter broke at the second sight of my gorgeous man cuddling our babies. No woman in her right mind would be aroused now, right? Frankly, my mind should get her own guy. "Men who like spicy food tend to have higher testosterone levels, so you may want to up your game. I'm sure I've depleted your stock,"
Propositioning him in the birthing center made perfect sense. Luckily, hopping off the table and running down the hall with my gown flapping in the wind didn't score high on my list.
"Are you issuing a challenge or gooped-up on drugs?" he asked as he scooted closer.
"Don't know and don't care, but we have the most glorious children in the history of the planet." I burst into tears again. My hormones were fickle bitches.
More nurses appeared and took the babies away.
"They need to the bathed and assessed. The nursery will let you know when they're ready," Tad said as he slid the cap off his head. "You will be sore. Recovery time varies, but at least a month. Limit stairs, rest as much as you can. No sex for two months or whenever Alexia has forgotten this ordeal."
"You're kidding," Ben said.
"Never about carnal relations. Congratulations. I will see you tomorrow."
Tad patted my shoulder and offered his hand to Ben. He stood and hugged Tad. Both broke
the embrace, laughing and crying. The doctor left and April came back in with a gurney.
"The babies are adorable, both resemble you," she said as she helped me up and into a fresh gown.
She wrapped me in warm blankets and wheeled me out.
"You're off to recovery for a few hours. Sleep because this is your last chance for twenty-one years," she said as we got in the elevator.
"Ben, please eat and find the babies," I said as my ride took a wide left toward a set of doors.
How many doors did a hospital need? One more and I'd be playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts. The dimly lit room shut out the world. I closed my eyes and dreamed.
I strolled through Grant Park, following my five-year-old children on their bikes. They raced toward a bench. Seated there were two beautiful women. My babies dropped their bikes and ran to them with arms opened wide. I tried to keep up, but never got close. Out of breath, I stopped. They were on their way back to me. I sat on the path and waited. My sweet baby girl arrived first.
"Mommy, what's my name?"
I didn't know. We talked about the multiple Benjamin thing, but lady names got lost.
My darling baby boy circled around me.
"Do you know my name?" he asked.
No.
"It's all right. We asked our Grandmas," my daughter said.
Mom. Helen. I leapt to my feet and searched for the bench. They were gone. My smiling children waited for me.
"Are your names a secret? Do I have to guess?" I asked trying to hide my tears.
"No, we'll tell you," my son said. "Mine is—"
"Alexia, did you say something?" Ben asked.
I opened my eyes to see him leaning over me. We were in a regular hospital room. The end of my bed was covered with papers and fast food wrappers.
"Having children means filling out forms. Did we pick names?" he asked.
"Where are the babies?"
"In the nursery. Miss Cobb is a blue-eyed blonde, three pounds, thirteen ounces, fourteen inches. Master Cobb is black-eyed, bald, four pounds, five ounces, fifteen inches. Next to her, he's a bruiser and needs a leather vest. They're in the neo-natal unit for observation overnight."
Spicing Up Trouble: a romantic comedy Page 28