The Set Up (Triplets: Three Aren't One Book 1)

by Dani Haviland

  ***

  “My van’s warmed up and ready to go. Do you have a plan or am I just winging it?”

  Grace Two looked up at the clock. “You’re a little early, Chuck, but that might be a good thing. Do you feel that itchy, crawly vibe in the air?”

  “Yup, that’s why I buzzed out half an hour early to get ready. No telling if we’ll get another opportunity.” Chuck looked over at the three babies, their isolettes pushed together under the warming lights, their little bodies swaddled in pink, aqua, and yellow to tell them apart.

  “Come look at this,” he said, canting his head so she’d follow him as he walked to the tropical zone. “Do you have a place to go?” he whispered, “because I could really use your help with Rhianna.”

  “Do I have a place? No,” she said softly. “But I’m always ready. All I ever need is packed in the gym bag I’ve been bringing into work with me for the last three years.”

  “How big’s that gym bag?” Chuck asked, a twinkle in his eye.

  “I always knew you were smart, Chuck. Yup. It’s insulated, padded, and will work great for transporting them for a short distance.”

  “I wish I had thought of picking up some baby dolls at the mall when I was there. They had some little ones that looked so real…”

  “What do you think is taking up space in my gym bag right now?” Grace Two said, then nudged him with her elbow.

  Chuck took a deep sigh of relief. He raised an arm, ready to give her a hug of gratitude, then quickly redirected the movement to scratch his temple. Cameras!

  “So, how about we see what’s in the kitchen for breakfast,” he said in a normal tone. “I make a great omelet.”

  She looked up at the clock. They had half an hour until Buddy was due to take off to see his wife. “Go ahead and start prepping. An everything-but-the-kitchen-sink omelet sounds great. Ellen’s due back from her break pretty soon.”

  Chuck sang ‘Oh, what a beautiful morning’ as he strolled down the halls, pausing at the thermostat to check the temperature. Making sure his back was to the security camera, he surreptitiously turned up the temperature to high. He flipped the lights off in every room down the corridor before cranking up those thermostats and leaving, appearing to be energy conscious but actually trying to suck up as much juice from the electrical panel as possible. In the bathroom, he fumbled through the drawers, found and plugged in the two high-volume hairdryers, and set them to max heat. Leaving them running on the counter, he popped into the shower room and turned on the infrared heat lamp, then walked out, ready to start breakfast. How long would it take to shut down the thirty-amp breakers and which would pop first? He grinned. He didn’t care as long as they shut down in the next ten minutes.

  “Mega omelets,” he said, acting engaged for the security cameras that were everywhere. He fished through the refrigerator shelves, looking for eggs, meat, onions, and peppers for his supposed creation, adjusting the regulator to its coldest setting as he pushed aside different foods.

  “Let’s see,” he said, thinking out loud. He pulled out two pans and set them on the stove, turning all four burners to high and cranking the oven to broil at the same time.

  Grabbing a cleaver from the butcher block, he started chopping, making quick work of the ham, onions, and peppers. He glanced up at the clock. Less than five minutes. That ought to be enough time to pop a circuit breaker or two. Or set off a smoke alarm if something shorted out or caught fire. He cracked four eggs into the bowl, then bent over forward and clutched his belly. “Oh, no… Not again!” he said, then ran out of the room, leaving everything where it was.

  Chuck pushed open the outside door and looked down the drive, making sure his vehicle was still running. That was the plus side to Buddy being in an upscale neighborhood: no car thieves. Besides, who would want an old service van, even if it was four-wheel-drive and freshly painted?

  The rumble of the garage door opening brought him out of his introspection. Watching from his secluded spot at the side of the house, he remembered to bend over and pretend to gag in case there were cameras he wasn’t aware of. Buddy was pulling out, his white Cadillac squealing tires as it backed up hurriedly, as if he was late for an appointment.

  “Crap!”

  Chuck ran back inside, directly to Grace Two and the babies. He took a moment to catch his breath, one finger up asking her to wait a moment.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, seeing that he was also flushed.

  “Zero hour,” he panted, then bent forward, this time truly ill but with nerves. “Get your bag. Stat.”

  The unlicensed but experienced neonatal nurse didn’t waste a moment questioning him. She dashed down the hall, not concerned if she looked like she was crazy or not. It really was zero hour in more ways than one. She’d have her freedom, too.

  As soon as she was back, her gym bag opened and ready, the lights went out with a thunk!

  “Crap!” she huffed.

  Chuck shined a flashlight on her bag. “Need a light?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said sarcastically. “What did you do?”

  “I overloaded the circuits to give us a little element of surprise,” he said. He squatted down beside her and helped her rewrap the dolls in the babies’ spare blankets.

  “Here,” she said, pulling out a drawer under one isolette, handing him a fistful of knit caps. “We have lots of them.”

  Chuck finished dressing the dolls, then joined her at the warming station.

  “I need light,” she said, fidgeting with the babies under the glow of the battery-operated emergency light mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

  He shone his flashlight on the little girls. She had already moved them to one isolette, the bassinette’s thin bedding folded up around them like a taco shell. He held the bag open, the flashlight in his mouth showing her the spot to settle them in. The shuffling around had upset them, their little squalls now drowned out by the sudden blare of smoke alarms.

  “Overloaded the circuits?” she repeated as a question.

  He took the flashlight out of his mouth. “And I may have left a few burners on high without anything in the pans.” He sniffed the air. “Pee Ew!”

  “Ready, Dad?”

  “Which door?” he asked.

  “You take the babies. I know the secret exit.”

  Chuck wiped the flashlight off under his arm, handed it to her, then took the bag. “At least, we know we won’t be running into Buddy. He already split. He left early and seemed to be in a hurry.”

  Grace Two shone the light on the floor, leading him in what felt like the wrong direction “That must be why I felt the tension in the air,” she said. “He probably got a heads up. Damn!”

  The two plus the babies wound up exiting where he had just experienced his pretend stomach distress. “There’s the van.” He looked to the right. “Uh, oh. We’d better jet. Looks like we have incoming…” he said, and scurried down the rise, leading the way.

  “Quick,” she said. “Give them to me, then you jump the fence.”

  “What?”

  “It’s only three feet high. Shit! Just step here…” She stepped on the well-hidden but strategically placed cinderblock next to the stucco perimeter fence, sat down and swung her legs over, stepping on another block before hitting the ground. “Give them to me, then you come over.”

  Chuck repositioned the strap and holding the babies close, was up and over the fence in a flash. “Got it. Sorry. I’m a little possessive.”

  “No worries, Dad,” she said. She took two steps, then put up her hand, stopping him.

  “Is everything all right there?” a voice called out.

  “Yes, sir,” Chuck answered. He squinted to see who it was, then put his arm around Grace Two’s shoulder and pulled her close. “We’re eloping!” he declared to the man in the FBI jacket. “Do you need to see ID?” he said, fumbling in his pocket, his smile wide.

  “Heading out at this time of night?”

  “Yes
, sir,” he replied. Chuck held up the gym bag and pointed to the van, obviously warmed up. “We were just staying with some friends on our way cross country. It’s another three days to Vegas, but we were hoping to make the Lincoln Memorial by morning.”

  The officer looked at Chuck, all giddy with excitement, not nervous and scared as a white slaver would be, then made the snap decision to let them go. They’d just slow him down with paperwork.

  “Have a safe trip,” the FBI agent said. “And don’t gamble!”

  “Hey,” Chuck quipped. “I can’t say that! I’m getting married, aren’t I?”

  “Well, then, be safe.”

  “Thanks, we will,” Chuck said, then gave Grace Two an extra squeeze of joy at their second victory: deception.

  The two took their time walking the rest of the way to the van, holding hands, swinging them back and forth like schoolchildren to perpetuate the ruse. The joy was real. They were almost free!

  Chuck unlocked and opened the side door, then handed her the bag. “Do you have this or do you want me to come back there and help you?”

  “That might look a little suspicious. Even if it didn’t, I want to get the hell away from here. Just watch out for bumps and sharp curves. I don’t want to move them to the bassinette yet. They’re snug and comfortable where they are.”

  “Kind of like they were still in the womb?” Chuck asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Then we’re off to play stork to two very lucky couples.”

  “Honk, honk,” Grace Two said, then chuckled. “I think I may like hanging around with you, Chuck. Just don’t ever make a pass at me or I’ll castrate you.”

  “Oh, me putting my arm around you and saying we were eloping?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “Is that what you mean? That was me insuring our exit. What were you going to do to get away? Bring out a shotgun?”

  Grace Two grunted. “No. I’m sorry. If you can’t tell, I’ve had a rough life…” She paused, then said, “Really. I’m sorry. I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you. At least, getting these two to the parents. You did say they were good folks, right?”

  “First, you can decide on whether you think they’re good or not for yourself. We’ll be meeting up with them in less than five minutes. Second, I’ll never make a pass at you. Third, no further apologies or explanations expected or required.”

  “Got it.” Grace settled herself on the bed, the babies in the bag held close to her midsection, her feet up, knees brought up around them. “Stork One, ready for takeoff.”

  Chuck checked his mirrors and put the van in drive. “Baby Drop gas station, here we come.”

  ***

  “Oh, my God,” Dusty said, peering into the night. “Is that her?”

  A matronly woman in a heavy winter coat had her arm around Grace, partially supporting her weight with her shoulder, an overnight bag dragging behind her. The whoop! whoop! sound of a cop car trying to get someone’s attention frightened her, her head spinning like a demon as she looked to see where the sound had come from. Without a word, Nurse Ellen dropped the bag and ducked out from under Grace’s shoulder, leaving her where she was, wavering in confusion.

  The panicked nurse rushed back to the sedan and took off, tires spinning on the icy pavement. Left behind was a stunned and still semi-sedated Grace wearing a hospital gown, wavering in the snowy driveway with nothing but house slippers and a blanket around her shoulders to keep her warm in the sub-freezing weather.

  “I ain’t waiting, guys,” Dusty said, and bolted out of the truck, hopping over hedges to get to her before she collapsed.

  “I got you,” he said. He wrapped the sagging blanket around her tighter, then held her close. Tears of joy streamed from his eyes at her nearness. He hadn’t been able to see her face clearly in the dimness of the streetlight, but he knew it was her. He started to pick her up to carry her back to the truck but stopped at her yelp of pain.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “No,” she sobbed, leaning into his shoulder. She sniffed back the tears, then realized it was Dusty’s scent, not Chuck’s, that she smelled. “Dusty?” She blinked rapidly, lifting one hand up to wipe her eyes. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Dusty. I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

  Hal, Papa Doc, and Silas rushed over to join the reunion. “We got you, sweetheart,” Hal said, crying just as much as they were, his arms wrapped around them both. “I promise, one of us will always be with you.”

  “But Mother…” she pined.

  “Gone. Out of the picture. Divorce is in the works. I have some really stinky dirt on her now. I doubt she’ll ever bother us again.”

  “But…but…they’re gone. The nurse told me they died. They were fine at first, and then they died.”

  “Our babies?” Dusty asked. “They died? Both of them?”

  Grace nodded, tears streaming, nose running, shoulders heaving, and without the energy to say another word.

  “Let’s go home,” Papa Doc said, then moved in between Dusty and Hal to help bolster Grace. “There’s plenty of room for all of us at the big house.”

  ***

  “Is that them?” Gloria asked her husband, clinging to his arm, tiptoeing to try for a better look.

  Roger gave her hand a comforting pat, then moved away from the group so he could see the station wagon pull up to the gas pumps. “I don’t know. Did he tell you what he’d be driving?”

  “Oh, yeah. He said he’d be driving a white van,” Gloria said. “Remember the password, ‘Woodstock.’”

  “Sounds like my kind of guy,” Luther, the other father, remarked. He hugged his wife around the shoulders. “Remember when we were there?”

  “How could I forget,” Leanne giggled. “Over twenty years ago, and now our baby is finally here. That’s a long gestation!”

  “There’s Chuck!” Gloria exclaimed, hopping up and down with joy, her hands tucked under her chin at seeing his familiar face behind the steering wheel of the white van.

  “Settle down,” Roger said. “You don’t want to bring attention to us.”

  “Two middle-aged couples, snuggled up against the wind, looking like vultures ready to pounce… I’d say we were already suspicious,” Luther said.

  Chuck looked beyond the gas pumps and saw the two couples standing by the stack of bundled firewood, their smiles of anticipation marking them as the new parents. He rolled past them and came to a stop at the side of the mini-store, out of sight of anything but owls searching for dinner. “Tranquility base: Stork One and Stork Two have landed,” he said, then opened the door and got out.

  “Hey, there,” he said to the huddled foursome. “Anyone for a game of golf? Know a good course around here?”

  “How about Woodstock?” Gloria said, then ran up to Chuck and gave him a big hug. “Are they inside? Are they okay? I thought I was going to have a total meltdown when Dr. Buddy called and said that Grace had died, and they couldn’t get the babies out in time. That they had all passed.”

  Chuck’s eyes widened. “Grace was alive when I left.” He opened the side door, exposing his new traveling nursemaid and the gym bag full of babies.

  “I’m still alive,” Grace Two said indignantly, then groaned softly as she realized it was a misunderstanding about the shared name. “I think you’d better call me Nanny.” She looked at the eager parents, crowded around the open door, the women squeezed in front of their husbands to keep away from the chill. “Why don’t you ladies come inside?”

  Gloria led the way. “Which one is ours?” she asked once inside, peering into the unzipped bag.

  “It’s up to you two who gets Aqua and who gets Pinkie. The yellow-wrapped sweetheart is mine,” Chuck said, watching the allocation of babies from the front seat.

  “Oh, my God!” Leanne exclaimed. “They are identical! I can’t believe it. How will we know whose is whose?”

  Little Pinkie opened her eyes, started to squall, then caught
sight of Gloria and smiled. “I don’t care if she’s the biggest or not; this one’s mine.”

  “Then that must mean she’s ours. Oh, I can’t believe it. I swear I feel a tingling in my breasts. I’m as barren as a moon rock, but I swear she’s kicked in a bucket load of estrogen.” Leanne looked at Nanny. “Can I take her home now?”

  “That’s the plan. Oh, and don’t even try to get in touch with Dr. Buddy. Either of you. If they didn’t catch him, they will. You’re lucky Chuck and I got in the middle of this or you wouldn’t be celebrating motherhood tonight.”

  “Thank you, Nanny,” Gloria said. “Chuck has my number. If you two run into any trouble or need a few bucks, just give me a call.” She unzipped her jacket and put the swaddled baby inside. “Come on Vickie. You’re coming home.”

  Leanne copied Gloria’s tactic of carrying the baby inside the coat. “And you, too, Tori Lynn. Daddy’s waiting outside.”

  Leanne stepped out of the van, then suddenly yipped. “She latched on! Oh, my Lord! I’m going to see if Luther can set me up with some of those plant estrogens. I may be able to nurse my baby still! Sing hallelujah!”

  ***

  “I need to get some fuel before we head out of town,” Silas said. “I’ll pull in up here. Anyone need anything?”

  “Gracie, do you want something to eat or drink?” Dusty asked.

  “Something to drink,” she said. “Maybe water?”

  “Get her some chocolate milk and pick up a gallon of water, too. She needs some calories and we all could use the water,” Papa Doc said. “You go ahead inside.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. “Get whatever you want, too. I’ll stay with her.”

  “But…” Dusty started to protest, then saw how Grace was snuggled into Hal. Right now, she needed her father more than anyone else. “Thanks, Doc.”

  Silas pulled into the gas station at Hemingway and Sherlock. It seemed busy, but then he noticed that the three vehicles weren’t getting fuel but were having some sort of meeting at the side of the building. “Drug dealers,” he muttered when he got out, then saw that the men huddled by the side door were older. “Just pot,” he added with a chuckle, then turned away to fuel both tanks on Dusty’s truck.