“She just took her first steps.”
“Fu—udge.” I chuckle, and he gives me a frown. “Anastacia is going to kill you.”
“It’s not my fault she’s out every time Dorothea does something new.”
“She missed her first word, first roll, first crawl, and now the first steps? You know she’s going to cry.”
Shit.
“Yeah, I know.”
Hormones have not been good to her this pregnancy. She cries all the time. Literally, it could be a dog walking by and the waterworks start. I’m helpless and never know what to do.
“They should be back soon,” Tommy adds, heading over to the rideable car that Dorothea loves. She smashed it into the porch one too many times and the wheel fell off, so Tommy is going to hammer it back on—hopefully.
We go over to watch him work, and she gasps and makes the most dramatic faces I’ve ever seen as he bangs the tire back into place.
“It should stay for a while, but she’ll need a new one,” he says.
“Tell that to Anastacia. She thinks it’s a death trap.”
“Well, she might not be wrong with how many times this thing falls apart.”
“And if she had a new one, it wouldn’t happen.”
He rolls his eyes, and I help my daughter into the little car. She scoots around the driveway, purposely slamming it into the porch and laughing like crazy. How can I tell her to stop when she laughs like that?
A few minutes later, Anastacia’s car—yes,hercar—pulls into the driveway and parks behind my truck. Tommy and I head over to help them get whatever they need out of the trunk, since both of them are as pregnant as can be. We’re having a barbecue here at the house tomorrow, and they offered to go shopping foreverything we need. Tommy and I have learned not to tell them no. Not when they’re both very pregnant, in the summer, and with full intention to double-team me and Tommy. They’re close to demons, but I dare not say that out loud.
“You going to tell her?” Tommy says.
I smack him upside the head.
“Tell me what?” Anastacia asks.
I grit my teeth, scowling at Tommy. “Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
“Tell me what?” Anastacia repeats, this time putting her hands on her hips. She’s standing by the trunk, glaring at me.
With a sigh, I say, “Dorothea took her first steps.”
She doesn’t say a word, but I watch her face flush and her eyes turn red. Then it’s only a second before the tears start, and then she’s sobbing. I go to her, hugging her tight.
“Why do I always miss everything?” She sniffles and cries harder.
“I don’t know, Angel. I’m sorry.”
“And you didn’t record it!” She shoves me away and slaps my arm.
“Ow! No, I didn’t record it because it just happened.”
“You can see it on the house camera,” Tommy adds helpfully, only it makes her cry more.
“You’re terrible,” Kelsey says, shaking her head and wiping her own tears. “Come on, Anastacia. Let’s let them take everything inside.”
They both waddle toward the house. Fuck, they really are waddling, the poor things. Before they go up the porch, Anastacia stops to hug and kiss Dorothea, then she starts scream-crying again.
“Fuck, who said getting them pregnant at the same time was a good idea?” Tommy mutters.
