“Of course you can,” he replies, easing himself out from behind me. “Did you pump? If there’s some in the fridge, I can deal with this.”
“There is,” I call after him, and I watch as he wraps a towel around his waist and goes to tend to our children.
I lean on the edge of the bath, smiling as I watch him in the monitor. He murmurs to them as he takes them into his arms, his tender words indiscernible, but his tone obvious.
He adores them, just as much as I do. No matter what kind of father he thought he might be, I know he’s capable of amazing things.
And I can’t wait to be there to see them.
26
MARTIN
When I wakethe next morning, it’s not to my phone going off, or a call from work, or a text from Martha about whatever it is that’s been happening with our son. No, it’s to the sound of Lila in the kitchen with the twins, singing some song to them as she makes their breakfast.
I grin as I sprawl out over the bed for a moment, taking a second to stretch myself out before I go to join them. This bedroom is way too small for all of us, but I have to admit, there’s something cozy about sleeping tangled up in Lila while the twins doze beside us.
I get dressed and make my way to the kitchen, leaning in the doorway for a moment as I watch her at work. She has Ross planted on the counter and Matty against her hip as she goes about sterilizing their bottles and her pumps, letting them reach out to touch the tap every now and then, occasionally running their hands beneath the water. Ross splashes his hands together, sending a spray of water across the kitchen and splashing up on to her chest. She laughs, pulling back, and Matty giggles delightedly at the chaos unfolding in front of her.
“You need a hand there?”
Lila glances around when she hears me behind her, and lets out a sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” she remarks playfully, handing Matty over to me. “These two were pushing me to the brink, let me tell you…”
“Busy morning?”
“I only got up about an hour ago,” she confesses. “The twins slept through the rest of the night. Guess you must have skills, working with babies as much as you do.”
“Or they’re just good sleepers,” I suggest as I smooth back Matty’s hair and drop a kiss on her forehead. I can’t believe how tiny she still is, and yet, how much she has grown since I brought her into this world a few months ago. It always amazes me, when my patients come in for checkups six months to a year after they have their children, how quickly babies develop into full-blown little people, but seeing it up close is even better.
“I’m trying to give you credit for something, Martin,” Lila teases, raising her eyebrows. “Try taking it for a chance, huh?”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” I protest, as I glance around the kitchen. “Do you have much in? If you want, I can make us some breakfast.”
“I’m not sure there’s room for all of us in here.”
“So you take the twins and go play,” I suggest. “Let me handle it.”
She parts her lips, for a moment looking as though she’s going to argue with me, but she thinks better of it.
“Point taken,” she murmurs, kissing me on the corner of the mouth, and she makes her way through to the living room toplay while I make us some banana pancakes out of what I can find in her cupboards.
The sound of them together warms my heart in a way I didn’t even think I was capable of. For so many years, the thought of being a father has been caught up with such doubt, such distaste, such disgust at how badly I did it the first time, that I could hardly reconcile the thought of doing it again.
But after the way Lila spoke to me yesterday, I know she doesn’t see me that way. That she never has. No, she just sees my potential, and I will be eternally grateful for that. I’m not sure any number of banana pancakes will truly make up for it, but I hope these are a start.
I come through with our food and hand her a plate, and she inhales deeply and groans.
“God, that smells good,” she remarks, as Matty tries to grab a handful from her plate to stuff into her mouth. “Hey, greedy! I just fed you…”
I plant myself on the edge of the couch, lifting Ross up beside me so he can see what I’m doing. He watches intently as I use the cutlery, drinking it all in. The way they are at this age, they might as well be sponges, the way they take in information and store it all away. It might be a while before he can handle knives and forks, but when the time comes, I want him to be capable.
“You really need to teach me how to cook,” Lila tells me through a mouthful of food. “This is so good, I would never have thought to put it together out of what I had in there. God, where were you when I was in college, I would have given anything to eat something other than takeout and fast food.”
I grin. “Glad you’re enjoying it,” I reply, and then I cock my head at her, curious. “Speaking of college, by the way. Are you thinking about going back at some point?”
She lifts her head with surprise, as though this is the first time such a thought has crossed her mind. Shaking her head, she chews thoughtfully for a moment.
