Mariah’s gaze tracks my face, studying the expression there. “If you don’t want to use those names I understand, I just?—”
I lean in, sealing my lips over hers. Unable to put the way I’m feeling into words, I put it into the way I touch her. The way I kiss her. The way I hold her. Showing her how much it matters that she’s helping me remember the child I lost. Helping me honor them.
Keep them as close as they will ever be.
I don’t know if the baby was a boy or girl, and I never will. Finding out would have been another loss, because in my mind, both could have existed. Since I couldn’t bring myself to let either of them go, Mariah and I burned the envelope together, letting me keep them both.
“The names are perfect.” I cradle her face in my hand, unable to believe how fucking lucky I got when her friend backed out and Mariah took her place. “Youare perfect.”
I tell her every day, but it’s never going to be enough. Yes, she has faults—everyone does—but that doesn’t mean she’s not perfect.
To me. For me.
“I love you so fucking much it hurts.” My eyes drop to our babies—Mary and Mitchell. “I love them so much it hurts.”
I knew love brought pain, but the pain I carried before was one of loss and suffering. The one squeezing my chest now is from simply not having enough space. Trying to fit an unlimited quantity within the confines of my skin.
And I imagine that love is only going to grow bigger as they do.
There’s a knock on the door, and our nurse pokes her head in. “Are you up to visitors?”
I turn to Mariah, because I’m not the one who just brought two humans into this world. “You feeling okay?” It’s probably been fifteen minutes since the last time I asked.
Ish.
“I’m good.” Mariah gives the nurse a smile. It’s bright and wide, but not superficial like the ones she brought with her when she moved. This one is real. The result of safety and acceptance. “They can come in.”
The nurse grins. “Brace yourself.”
She widens the door and people start pouring in. My mom and dad lead the pack, carrying Mariah’s overnight bag that we forgot in our rush to get here, and a soft sided cooler I’m sure is full of all sorts of delicious things my wife will love eating instead of hospital food.
Behind them is Walker, carrying two of the biggest stuffed animals I have seen in my life.
I angle a brow at him. “What in the hell are those for?”
“They’re for my niece and nephew, dick.” He sets them on the small sofa where I’ll be sleeping tonight. “They need friends to cuddle.”
I recognize these are the first babies my brothers have been around, but I would’ve thought Walker had enough life experience to know hours-old infants don’t cuddle stuffed animals. Obviously not, and he looks so fucking proud of himself, I’m not going to be the one to break the news to him.
Tucker doesn’t have a problem with it, however. He’s the next one through the door and brings at least a hundred helium balloons with him. “Those things would smother the babies, dumbass.” He comes to Mariah’s side, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. “How are you doing, Momma?”
“Surprisingly good.” Mariah carefully works Mitchell off her breast before offering the sleeping baby to my youngest brother. “Would you like to hold your nephew?”
Tucker doesn’t hesitate. He lets the balloons go, ignoring them as they rise to the ceiling, and reaches for Mitchell. He makes sure his little head is supported and gently cradles the baby against his chest.
Mariah’s smile illuminates her whole face. “You’re a natural.”
Tucker gives her a wink as he starts to bounce gently from foot to foot. “So the girls tell me.”
Mariah rolls her eyes as Trevor comes in carrying a vase overflowing with flowers. It’s filled with pink roses and blue hydrangeas and some sort of weird little green ball looking things that somehow tie it all together. Like Tucker, Trevor comes to Mariah’s side, setting the flowers on the table next to her before pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“You look beautiful.” His eyes come my way. “I heard you almost had to catch a baby in the parking lot.”
I wish it was an exaggeration. “I promised her a pony if she kept them both inside until we got into the hospital.”
Tobias is the last one through the door, and he comes in rolling his eyes, carrying a basket filled with soft pajamas, comfy socks, lotion, and about a million other things. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t buy her a pony regardless.” He rounds the bed just like everyone else, kissing Mariah’s cheek before setting the basket next to the flowers. “I’m pretty sure you also offered to buy her a miniature cow at one point.”
“And thank God she didn’t take you up on it. I can only imagine the shit I would have to deal with if everyone at work found out there were miniature cows in play.” Trevor leans overTucker’s shoulder, the hard line of his mouth softening as he looks at his nephew. “Uncle Tucker will buy you a miniature cow though. Do you want a miniature cow?”
