Charlie, our five-year-old, comes bounding over as soon as I step inside. I kick the shoes out of the way to shut the door with my hip and drop my suitcase.
“Want some help?” she asks, holding out two hands. I smile at her, scrunching my nose as she does the same. She’s got freckles just like her father and older sister do. Sometimes I want to paint them on myself before I leave the house just so I can match them all. Joey, our two-year-old, looks more like me with her black hair and blue eyes and no freckles yet. And her drooling and affinity for poop jokes, as Bo likes to point out.
“Hi, baby. Thank you.” I drop the brown paper bag filled with groceries into Charlie’s arms, and she nearly collapses under the weight of it. “You sure you got that? Is Dad—”
“Here!” Bo says, appearing in the living room with Joey glued to his hip as always. She’s got a wide-spread smile slathered with chocolate icing, and Bo’s got flour all over his navy sweater and trousers. “We got a bit delayed. The girls wanted to help me make you a welcome home cake, but then Joey was the only one who stuck it out. None of them are in their costumes yet, and August, apparently, doesn’t want to be a pirate this year. So now the cake is still baking, and no one is dressed on time to leave, and I’m not even sure where—”
I go on my toes to kiss him, cupping his face with my hand to pull him the rest of the way down toward me. “Happy anniversary, darling.” I pat his cheek, searching his eyes until he takes a much-needed breath. “I missed you.”
Bo settles, his chest falling. “Hi, honey. Sorry.” He bends down, kissing me again. “How was your trip? We missed you too.Imissed you.”
“Mama home!” Joey says, her messy hands reaching for me. I take her, kissing all over her face as she squeals. Bo comes behind me and tucks my hair out of the way so she at least doesn’t get that part of me covered in chocolate icing. We don’t have time for showers before Sarah’s Halloween party.
“I grabbed extra candy to leave out on the porch.” I point to the bag that Charlie is struggling to drag across the floor toward the kitchen. “Someone should probably help her…” I mumble, following after Bo to the kitchen. He swoops down and picks up both Charlie and the bag of groceries on his way. She giggles, flopping like a fish in his arms.
“So, your trip?” he asks over his shoulder, dropping the bag onto the counter but snuggling Charlie closer. We don’t have favourites, of course. But Charlie is Bo’s twin in every way. While they share the same golden hair, hazel eyes, and freckles as August—Charlie’s temperament isallBo. August hasstrongfirstborn energy. Since birth, that girl has been ruling our house. Hell, she was ruling our livesbeforebirth.
But Charlie is our peaceful, helpful, curious girl. She asks a million questions every single day, especially before bed. It’s a tactic to delay bedtime, of course, but they’re all such interesting questions, so we can’t help but give in. Bo especially. He lies next to her, his long body crammed into her small twin bed, and they ponder existence together.
Why does the Earth have so many people? Will there ever be too many people? Are there people on other planets? Galaxies? Do they have chocolate too?
Shealsohas his sweet tooth.
But theyallhave that.
“Honey?” Bo asks, smiling softly. “Your trip?”
I shake myself from my wandering thoughts. “Sorry, yes. It was great. Camp Piyette wasstunning. I took pictures of a few things I think we should try to fit into the budget next summer. Also, they’ve just upgraded to be all-season, and Idothink we should seriously consider—”
“Mom?” August says, pulling her headphones off, halfway from the bathroom back to her bedroom. “When did you get home?” She takes off running toward me.
“Hi!” I say as she crashes into my side, the opposite hip from her baby sister. August circles her arms around my waist and squeezes. Because, suddenly, she’s big enough to reach all the way around her mama and do such a thing.
I blinked, maybe three times too many, and now she’s this big, strong girl with so many clever thoughts and strong opinions.
“I missed you too, kid,” I say, my chin resting on the top of her head. “It was four days too many.”
“Wait! Me too!” Charlie says, tugging Bo by the collar. He walks over to us, laughing as he drops Charlie onto my shoulders.
“Happy Halloween, my little gremlins!” I say, giggling as I juggle all three of them. “Were you good for Dad? Do we still get to go to Auntie Sarah’s party tonight?” I look to Bo for an answer.
He smiles proudly, a tilt of his chin as he admires all of his girls. “It was touch and go for a minute there. There was a biting incident,” he points to Joey, wearing an insincere scowl, “and someoneelsefailed to tell me about her math homework until the night before it was due.”
“August Sarah Durand, youknowit hurts your father when we keep math from him.”
August rolls her eyes. “I just forgot. I got an A on it, though.”
“Course you did, smartie pants. And what about Miss Charlie?” I say, shrugging my shoulders so she bounces. “What did she get up to?”
“Charlie was Charlie,” Bo says, grinning from ear to ear. “She kept everyone in line.”
“I also found a bird’s nest in the backyard. It’s empty… for now,” Charlie tells me over top of my head.
“A bird’s nest? That’s amazing!”
“Can I get down now?” she asks Bo, who nods and walks over, lifting her off and placing her onto the floor. She takes off skipping toward her bedroom. I shuffle Joey up my hip, but she reaches for Bo, who’s got a washcloth ready and waiting to clean her up.
“So…” I say, turning my full attention to August. “What’s this I hear about you not wanting to be a pirate this year?” I ask, brushing her hair away from her face. I trace the line of the teeny, faded scar on her forehead with my thumb. She ran head-first into our coffee table a little after her first birthday. Bo broke it down into firewood the very next day. We were so new to parenting, then. So sensitive to every cut, bump, and bruise. That one, though,wasawful. “Have we finally outgrown our little tradition?”
