“Pappoú would have liked that,” Chrysanthos said quietly.
I reached out and gripped the back of my son’s neck. He leaned into it, just briefly, before straightening.
“And these are your older brother and sister, Santo and Tia,” Dede continued. “Santo will teach you how to drive a car.”
“I will claim that privilege,” I said, though I couldn’t help smiling at Chrysanthos. “I have watched you terrorize every road from Europe to Asia. Periklis and Yianna, they will learn the respect for machinery before they learn the speed.”
“For the record, my husband is an amazing driver and an even better teacher.” Tia’s expression softened as she looked at the babies. “May I hold one?”
I carefully transferred my blanket-wrapped bundle.
“Now you, Santo,” Dede said, offering Periklis.
Chrysanthos looked as if Dede were offering an explosive device. “I don’t know. He’s extremely small, and my hands are rather large.”
“It’s straightforward,” Dede encouraged. “Trust your instincts. You’ll know what to do. Besides, it’s good practice for when your turn comes.”
Tia emitted a surprised sound. “One step at a time, Mom.”
Image of Santo, Perry, Tia and Yianna...
We gathered in a close circle, the small room containing nothing but our breathing, heartbeats, and profound connection.
“Aris,” Dede said quietly. “Your mother. Have you heard anything?”
“Mother is awake, yes. The full recovery, it is expected.” I had to pause to steady my voice. “She is asking for us.
“Oh, thank God.” She looked at our babies, then at me. “She’s going to meet them.”
“She will, yes.”
My mother would live. My wife had survived. My children were healthy and perfect.
Everything I’d been too terrified to hope for had come to pass.
31
Three weeks postpartum, and I was still learning my new body. The incision pulled when I shifted position. There was still bleeding, still soreness, still moments where I wondered if I’d ever feel normal again. But then Perry or Yianna would make one of those tiny baby sounds, and I’d remember that ‘normal’ had been redefined.
Aris’s once-pristine bedroom had been completely overtaken. Two bassinets flanked his—our—bed, close enough for me to reach them without getting up.
A changing table occupied the space where a reading chair used to sit. The diaper caddy overflowed with wipes, creams, and burp cloths. A diaper bin lurked in the corner.
The room that had been all clean lines and muted grays now looked like a baby store had exploded. Receiving blankets were draped over the furniture and stacks of tiny clothes covered what used to be his pristine dresser.
Across the hall, the room Aris wanted to convert into a nursery sat empty. We’d spent hours selecting the perfect cribs,coordinating furniture, and debating paint colors. He’d wanted everything ready, and it was. Too bad everything was set up at my house in Montrose.
I finished feeding Perry and laid him down on the bed to change him. Aris held Yianna against his chest, feeding her the bottle of milk I’d pumped earlier.
Aris, Yianna, Perry and Deanna...
It had been over twenty years since I’d changed a diaper, but my hands remembered what to do. Funny how that worked, like riding a bike. I moved quickly, removing the old diaper and readying a fresh one.
I wiped Perry down with a warm wipe, murmuring to him. I couldn’t stop marveling at how perfect he was.
From across the bed, Aris called out, “You should never leave yourself open like that when changing a boy. You must—”
Too late!
