Tucker nods. “Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Mom, Sloane and I met at Stelly’s graduation party.”
Judge smiles. “That’s lovely. And you’ve been seeing each other?” Her brows lift into her hairline. I sip my drink, grateful for the bubbles as my stomach roils.
“Not exactly,” Tucker says. He glances at me. “Do you want to … “
I shake my head and gesture. These are his parents. It should be him doing the big reveal. He knows them best, and I don’t trust myself not to throw up if I say the words aloud.
“Hoooo,” Tucker sighs, perching on the arm of the chair where I’m sitting. “So, Mom, Dad already knows this, and I obviously want you to know that…” Judge looks between her husband and Tucker. I can feel her confusion and discomfort, and it intensifies my own. Tucker meets my eye and then smiles. I can almost forget that this is a nightmare. That nothing can happen between us other than shared responsibility. That he will probably flame out of even that. Because that smile is the sort of thing that could fool a woman as fast as it melts her underwear.
He looks back at his mother. “Sloane’s pregnant. We’re having twins.”
The room falls silent apart from the heartbeat that’s back pounding in my ears. Is my blood pressure dangerously high? Maybe I should leave and go right to the hospital and hide for seven months.
But suddenly I hear a shriek, and I’m jolted back to reality by the sight of Juniper Jones jumping and clapping her hands. “Really? Babies? My gosh, Ty, does this make us grandparents?” Mr. Stag nods as she starts smacking his chest. “And you knew! Oh, baby, I’m glad you felt like you could go to your father with something big. Ty, I really thought it would be Gunnar and Emerson first, didn’t you? Twins. Twins!”
Once she runs out of electricity, she sinks into the couch, head on her husband’s shoulder. Tucker laughs quietly and looks likehe wants to pat my arm, but doesn’t. “Yeah. Twins.” A series of beeps emerges from the kitchen, and he downs the rest of his drink, crushing the can as he stands. “Let me grab the casserole, and we can talk about it more while we eat.”
I’m not sure how I manage to move from the armchair to the high back chair at Tucker’s table, but before I know it, I have a plate of steaming rice and mushrooms and savory chicken to go with my bubbly water.
I am surprised by how amazing everything smells, and despite my anxiety, my stomach growls appreciatively.
"Dig in," Judge says, sitting across from me. "Please, don't be shy."
For a few minutes, everyone focuses on serving themselves and passing dishes. The silence is punctuated by the clink of silverware and appreciative murmurs about the food.
Then Mr. Stag sets down his fork and looks at me with those kind eyes. "So, Sloane, Tucker mentioned you're in school. Public health?"
"Yes." I swallow my bite of casserole. "I'm just starting up again. It's been... challenging, getting back into student mode after so long. I’m going to be doing a research project with social safety net programs locally."
"Oh, that does sound interesting." He glances at Tucker. "Our family has always valued social safety nets. Juniper's a judge in family court, as Tucker probably mentioned."
"He did." I look at Judge. "That's impressive."
"It's demanding," she says with a smile. "But rewarding. And Ty made it possible by being the primary parent when our boys were young."
"You really stayed home with all those boys? Instead of playing pro hockey?” I hope my curiosity doesn’t come across as judgmental. It’s such a foreign concept for me that I truly cannot imagine that level of commitment from a man.
Mr. Stag’s expression is proud. "Best job I ever had. Don't get me wrong—I loved playing. But being there for my sons' childhoods? Nothing compares."
The conversation flows more easily than I expected. They ask about my classes, my goals, what drew me to public health. Theyshare stories about raising four boys, about the chaos and joy of a full house. Tucker chimes in occasionally, but mostly he just watches, a small smile on his face.
I'm starting to relax, starting to think maybe this won't be so bad, when Judge sets down her water glass and leans forward.
"So, twins," she says, her eyes bright with excitement. "That's going to be quite the adventure."
"Yeah." I touch my stomach instinctively. "It's still sinking in."
"Well, the good news is you'll have plenty of support." Tucker’s mom pulls out her phone. "I've already been thinking about schedules. If we coordinate properly, you'll have around-the-clock help."
"Schedules?" I ask uncertainly.
"For babysitting rotations," Mr. Stag explains. "Between us and Tucker's brothers and cousins, we can make sure you're never without help. Especially those first few months when you're sleep-deprived and overwhelmed."
"We'll set up a shared calendar," Judge continues, scrolling through her phone. "I can take Tuesdays and Thursdays. Ty can do Mondays and Wednesdays when I have night court. That gives you weekdays covered, and then?—"
"Wait." I hold up a hand, my chest tightening. "The babies aren't due for months."
"Oh, I know," Judge says, still scrolling. "But it's good to plan ahead. And with twins, you're going to need all the help you can get. Trust me, it's no joke."
