6+ Us Makes Eight: A Teacher and Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three)

by Nicole Elliot

  Emma ran to me and we both started jogging through the apartment.

  “She bit one of the boy’s in her class at lunch. We’re requesting you pick her up.”

  “I’m on my way. Give me fifteen minutes,” I said as I hung up the phone.

  “What’s going on? What’s happened?” Emma asked as I opened my front door.

  “Zoey’s bit a kid a lunch. We have to go pick her up.”

  “She did what?”

  “Come on,” I said.

  The two of us raced over to the school and found Zoey sitting in the principal’s office. She didn’t look hurt and she didn’t seem as if she’d been crying. But she was angry. Her hands were balled up into fists and her face was all scrunched up. If she hadn’t actively bitten someone, I might’ve grinned at how cute she looked.

  Emma got her into the car and we had no time to spare. We had to get to Emma’s doctor’s appointment. She pulled out the address and we drove across town, getting there with only fifteen minutes to spare.

  We sat in the lobby waiting to be called on and Emma decided to take the reins.

  “Zoey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What happened at school today?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Zoey said.

  “Don’t apologize,” Emma said. “Just talk to me.”

  “Yeah, talk to us,” I said. “Why did you bite that boy at lunch?”

  “Because he was being mean.”

  “How so?” Emma asked.

  “He was stealing my friend’s snack. And reaching over my food. I didn’t want his stinky elbow in my food.”

  I curled my lips between my teeth as Emma held back a giggle.

  “So he was stealing,” I said. “Did you tell anyone?”

  “Yeah. Miss Woofleball.”

  I put my face in my hands as the laughter began to build.

  “And she said for me to keep my hands to myself,” Zoey said.

  “Were you touching him?” Emma asked.

  “Not until I bit him for being dumb.”

  I couldn't hold it back anymore. I started laughing into my hands. I covered my face as my shoulders shook and soon, Emma was joining me. Our laughter filled the waiting room as a smile bloomed on Zoey’s cheeks.

  “I’m not in trouble?” Zoey asked.

  “Come here, sweetheart,” Emma said as she gathered the girl onto her lap.

  “We don’t solve our problems with violence,” I said.

  “But, we do stand up to bullies and people who push us around,” Emma said. “Biting him might’ve been convenient, but it wasn’t right.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zoey said.

  “However,” I said, “I’ll be having a talk with the principal about this boy. If he was stealing something from another child, then he needs to be readily punished for what he was doing. You’re in trouble for biting, but not for standing up to someone, okay? Standing up to bullies is a good thing.”

  “A very good thing,” Emma said.

  “So I’m not in trouble?” Zoey asked.

  “For the biting. Not for standing up to the bully,” Emma said.

  “So… okay?” Zoey asked.

  My little girl was definitely a little badass.

  Emma hugged her and kissed the top of her head before our names were called. I gathered Zoey up in my arms and helped Emma to her feet, then the three of us went back into the obstetrician’s office. The doctor asked the usual questions. How Emma was feeling. What her diet was like. How much sleep she was getting. And I learned a lot about Emma’s existence over the past couple of weeks. Her sleep was restless, her mornings were void of any food because of her nausea, and she was in bed easily by six in the evening. I placed my hand on her knee and squeezed it, wishing I could shoulder some of this burden with her.

  I couldn’t imagine still having to work while experiencing what she was going through physically.

  Emma worked her way onto a table and rolled her shirt up. Zoey was sitting on the edge of the table and I was holding Emma’s hand. The doctor squirted some nasty blue gel on her stomach, and she flinched at the contact. The doctor waved the wand around as the ultrasound screen came to life, and the pictures moved and changed before I could see them clearly. Zoey watched the screen carefully and Emma squeezed my hand. I could tell she was frightened, but I didn’t know why.

  Was there something she already knew that she hadn’t told me yet?

  I ran my thumb along her skin, trying to settle her grip. But the more the doctor pushed and took pictures, the tighter she clung. Pulsating sounds emanated from the speaker system as the doctor smiled, and I watched tears rise to Emma’s eyes.

  “Hear that?” the doctor asked.

  “I do,” I said.

  “That’s your child’s heartbeat.”

  “Wait, a baby?” Zoey asked.

  I kissed the top of her head as I tried to keep my own tears at bay.

  The screen moved and undulated as small pictures popped up. Little things that looked like jumping beans scattered across the screen. I furrowed my brow as Emma’s face fell, and Zoey’s eyes danced wildly along the black and white pictures.

  Then, the doctor nodded and turned towards us.

  “Well, here’s the good news. Despite all of the exhaustion and nausea, things look good for your triplets.”

  Reality stopped at that moment as Emma’s arm went lax.

  “They look healthy from what I can see,” the doctor said as he moved the wand around, “and from the looks of it, they might all be identical.”

  “What?” Zoey asked.

  I couldn't speak. Couldn’t think straight.

  He had to be kidding.

  “That means three,” the doctor said with a smile. “Three babies growing right here.”

  He tapped Emma’s stomach with the wand and I watched her face pale.

  “Miss Emma’s growing three lifes!?” Zoey asked. “She’s gonna get really big!”

  I teetered on my feet as the doctor pulled up a clear picture. Three little sacs tumbling about, each with a small bean in them. Three little lives.

  Three little children my Emma was growing.

  “Are they gonna bust out of her tummy like aliens?” Zoey asked.

  “No,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “But she will have to be closely monitored, Mr. Aaron.”

  My eyes slowly panned over to the doctor as my knees grew weak.

  “What?” I asked weakly.

  “Miss Gentry will have to be closely monitored,” the doctor said. “Is she on prenatals?”

  I had no idea how to answer any of his questions.

  I looked down at Emma and tears glistened on her cheeks. But I had no idea if she was happy or petrified. I was petrified. I was very petrified. Zoey was clinging to me around my neck, rattling off how there would be one baby for her and her brothers to take care of.

  Holy shit.

  Six kids.

  “One for me, one for Hunter, and one for ‘Bendamim’,” Zoey said. “Can I feed them, Uncle Ryan? Please?”

  Emma slowly lobbed her gaze up to mine and I watched her lip tremble.

  “Triplets?” she asked with a whisper.

  “That means three!” Zoey exclaimed.

  And Zoey pumped her fist in the air as Emma’s eyes locked with mine.

  Twenty-Four

  Emma

  “Emma?”

  “Emma, come sit down.”

  “Emma, get off your feet.”

  “Emma-.”

  “Triplets,” I said with a whisper.

  I felt a hand come down onto my back and it ripped me from my trance. I had no idea how long I’d been standing at the windows. How long I’d been looking over the expanse of the city. Zoey was in the other room watching television and waiting for her brothers to get home. And suddenly, my mind jumped into overdrive.”

  “You need to eat-.”

  “The nurseries,” I said as tears rose to my eyes.

  �
�What?” Ryan asked.

  “The nurseries. Plural. We’re going to need three cribs.”

  “I know. We’ll-.”

  “And three sets of bottles. Or at least one, because I don’t have three nipples. And a breast pump. So many milk bags. What if I can’t produce milk for three children?”

  “That’s what formula’s-.”

  “And a nanny. Oh my gosh, we’re going to need a nanny. I can’t keep up after six kids. Do you think I can keep up after six kids, Ryan? Six! There’s going to be six of them! And clothes. The diapers alone. We’re going to spend so much money in diapers. And I can’t cloth diaper them. That would be triple the laundry. We’ll probably need another washer and dryer. Where is your washer and dryer? Wait, am I moving in? Holy hell, I’m going to have to move-”

  “Emma!”

  Ryan’s booming voice ripped me from my external monologue. I felt tears cresting my cheeks as my legs grew weak. Triplets. How in the world was I pregnant with triplets?

  “Come here,” he said.

  His hands pulled me in and I relaxed into his grasp. I felt helpless. Torn. Beyond exhausted. My stomach was hungry but my nausea was worse. I pressed myself into Ryan’s body and began to sob.

  “How are we going to do triplets?” I asked breathlessly.

  “I need you to take some breaths, okay?” Ryan asked.

  I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head and my inner swirlings stopped. His arms wrapped around my body, gripping me as tightly as he could. I smoothed my tears over his shirt. I relaxed my aching body into his. He scooped me up into his arms and walked me into the nearest bedroom, then sat us down on the edge of the bed. He rocked with me. Hummed lowly in my ear. Pressed kisses to my reddened cheeks as my head fell to the strength of his shoulder.

  “I care about you greatly,” Ryan said.

  “I care about you too,” I said with a whisper.

  “So, just keep that in mind when I say what I’m about to.”

  I raised my eyes to meet his and braced for whatever was coming.

  “You’re moving in this week.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Not a question any longer. You’re moving in. I’ll pay to cut the lease on your apartment and I’ll hire some guys to move your stuff over. We can put your furniture in one of the empty rooms.”

  “I’m not-... I can’t-.”

  “Emma, you’re very pregnant. And very tired. And very overwhelmed. We prepared a plan for one child. We didn’t prepare one for three. So, things are changing. Quicker than you might want, but they’re changing. You’re going to need help, and I’m going to help you. We can talk about all the things we need to do from here, but you moving in is no longer negotiable.”

  I wanted to fight him, but I was too tired to even think up the words to get him to change his mind.

  “Where will I sleep?” I asked breathlessly.

  Ryan smiled down at me before his lips fell to mine. Warm. Soft. Comforting. He slowly inched our backs to the bed underneath us and my body wrapped around his. My leg slid between his and my cheek fell to his chest. I listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat as his fingers slid through my hair, untangling its knots as we laid there in silence.

  “Anywhere you’d like,” he finally said. “But I was hoping maybe you’d sleep in my bed.”

  I wrapped my arm around him and squeezed him tightly. I was scared. Beyond petrified of what was coming. I didn’t know if things were going to work and I didn’t know if we were making the right decision. But triplets would come with their own health issues I wasn’t prepared to face on my own.

  “Would you like me to address some of your other concerns from earlier?” Ryan asked.

  “Okay,” I said with a sigh.

  “We will be getting a nanny. I’ll put feelers out into the community tomorrow. I want one hired by the time you have to stop working. And don’t get upset at that. You’ll be growing three children. Eventually, you’ll have to step back from your job.”

  I closed my eyes and allowed that reality to descend on me.

  “One of the rooms on the other side of the house will be the triplet’s nursery. I’ll have a contractor come in and talk about the reality of reconstructing the inside of this place a bit. There’s five thousand square feet to this place. There’s no reason why we can’t all reside in it, at least for a while. Once we have options on what’s plausible without ruining the place, we’ll go from there on our living situation.”

  “Okay,” I said lightly.

  “I’ve got more than enough money to handle the clothes and diapers, Emma. That isn’t something you need to worry about. Money is not an issue you need to think about any longer. You aren’t doing this alone, and that means you aren’t financially doing it alone, either. Your bills? I’ll take care of them once you can’t work any longer. You’re growing my children, Emma. You’ll be helping me raise them. That, in and of itself, is work.”

  “Especially with your kids,” I said with a giggle.

  “I’m right here,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. “Zoey’s watching television and the boys will be home in about an hour. Let’s take a bit of time for ourselves before we jump into all of this.”

  “That sounds like a dream,” I said.

  “Then let’s make that dream a reality.”

  And before I could blink my eyes, sleep swept me under. I clung to Ryan’s body as the darkness overcame me, and an odd sort of bliss blanketed my body.

  Fear was no longer the thing I was experiencing.

  Excitement, however, was.

  Twenty-Five

  Ryan

  “How are the renovations coming along?” Emma asked.

  “This is their last day, sweetheart. I know you’ve been fed up with all the noise and the construction equipment in the way,” I said. “But they’re putting on the last coat of paint, then they’ll pack up.”

  “Good. I know the kids are loving this hotel situation, but I’m a little over it.”

  “You have to admit, it is a nice hotel.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” I said. “Oh! I forgot to tell you. The nursery stuff came in today.”

  “Wait, it’s there? Oh my gosh, did you already move it in?” she asked.

  “You make it sound like you would’ve helped,” I said with a chuckle.

  “No, but I would’ve tried. I’m sure there was something I could’ve done.”

  “You’re four months pregnant. The only thing you need to be doing is resting.”

  “I think the nanny is enjoying this hotel situation a little too much though,” she said.

  “Don’t worry. I told her to take advantage of all the spa services the hotel had to offer. Running behind three kids and a very pregnant woman is a lot of work.”

  “Did you just call me fat?”

  “No, my dear,” I said with a smile. “I called you breathtaking.”

  Four months pregnant and Emma was still as feisty as the first day I’d met her. She had officially been living with me and the kids for the past three months and had ballooned in her size. Orders of bedrest from the doctor came quicker than we both thought they would, and by month four of her pregnancy the doctor wanted her out of work and off her feet. Emma wasn’t a fan of that. She had high hopes of working until seven months pregnant. But a bleeding scare rushed us to the emergency room and convinced Emma she needed to follow the doctor’s orders.

  She said goodbye to Lawrence Day a week later, and I hired our new nanny two days after that.

  The match was good. Our nanny was good with the older kids and got along well with Emma. Plus, having her around freed up time for Emma and I to enjoy one another before our triplets came along. Dinners. Late nights. Some stolen risqué hotel moments. I liked sneaking around with her. It felt salacious. Kinky. Sexy.

  Especially since Emma was now in the limelight with me.

  ‘Babywatch’ was the current hashtag on social media rega
rding my life. Every picture they could snag of Emma was blasted out to the press and the public. At first, Emma couldn't stand it. She’d come home crying because someone with a camera caught her and I’d have to make nasty phone calls to the papers to get them to back off. But now, she was having fun with it. She’d go out in all these ridiculous outfits and be intentionally caught doing the most insane things. And she would frame the pictures. Send them to me at work.

  Her latest masterpiece? Walking around in a T-Rex costume with an ice cream cone in her hand.

  “I miss our routine,” Emma said.

  “I miss it, too. I miss having you at home. I promise, only one more night in that hotel and you guys will be back.”

  “How do the renovations look?” she asked.

  “Really good, actually. A lot has changed, but I think you’ll like the flow of things.”

  “Describe it to me.”

  “I can try my best. So, you know where the front door was?” I asked.

  “I’ve become very familiar with that door, yes.”

  “Well, the front door isn’t there anymore.”

  A silence fell over the phone call as a grin slid across my face.

  “Sorry. I think you broke up there. What did you say with the front door?” Emma asked.

  “It isn’t there anymore,” I said.

  “Repeat that-.”

  “Emma, the front door isn’t where it used to be.”

  “Then where the hell is the damn front door?” she asked.

  “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

  “Ryan. This isn’t funny. What are you doing to our home?”

  “Making it big enough for all of us.”

  “By removing the front door?”

  “No, by moving it down a level.”

  “Now I’m really confused,” she said.

  “Emma, I bought the level below my penthouse.”

  “You what!?”

  I threw my head back and laughed as I tried to figure out how I was going to tell her all this.

  “Ryan Aaron, you tell me what you’ve done right now,” Emma said.

  “I know you were concerned about what knocking down that wall would do. Especially to the kitchen. So, instead of knocking down that wall and ruining the smooth flow of the apartment, I bought the floor below us and combined the two.”