"Mother, this is not a good time."
"It's as good a time as any." Ignoring his fierce scowl, she stepped inside and closed the doors behind her.
"How about a spot of tea?" She asked, walking to the cabinet.
"Tea is not the fix all for everything and I'm busy."
"There's no excuse whatsoever for being rude and tea is my go to solution." Ignoring his snort, she poured two cups and brought one over to him. Taking hers, she picked up the wedding photo in a prominent position on his desk.
There were scatterings of photos of her and his dad, his brothers, a group photo with all four of her boys that had been taken in Vale one Christmas and of course his sisters in law and nieces and nephews. But his wedding photo was larger than all the others and placed in an ornate frame.
It was a lovely picture, one that captured them staring into each other's eyes.
"How's she?"
"In fine form. I really don't want to talk about my wife."
"She's going through a lot." Mary-Ann put the frame down.
"The reason why I left the house before I commit murder."
He watched as his mother walked over to perch on one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. She balanced the cup and saucer on her knee as she met his gaze.
"I was sick as a dog when I had your brothers. Plagued with morning and afternoon sickness, cross as two bears and blaming your father for everything. As soon as I had the baby, I would swear never to go through that horror again. But one look at those faces and I would change my mind." She sipped slowly. "You were the worst of them."
She shook her elegantly coiffed head. "It might be because you were the last, the final hoorah. I was sick for the entire nine months and your father felt the brunt of it. Not only was I very miserable and fat, but I felt like a complete failure."
"We had help of course, but I wanted to be involved in my boys' lives. Most days I could not get out of bed, and I would insist on them being brought to the room. That would last for about ten minutes. The noise, the screams, because they were very loud, would get on my nerves."
"I would evict them and then feel guilty about it." She drew in a breath. "Carrying a child inside you is not a walk in the park. It changes you and not in very pleasant ways. Your wife is carryingthree babies, which triples the misery." She met his gaze frankly. "You're going to have to try and understand."
Pushing the cup of tea away, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes wearily.
"I know. It's just so difficult to try and figure out what to do for her. I know the root of it is that she's terrified, but so am I."
"Then you both need to find a way of communicating."
He gave her a curious glance. "Did that work for you and dad?"
"No." She smiled serenely. "I threatened to kill him several times. And I evicted him from our bedroom, more times than I can count."
"Did he leave?"
Her smile widened as she continued to sip her tea.
"What do you think?"
A smile ghosted his lips. "I think he stayed."
"He did. Stubborn goat. Darling, you're in love with your wife, you positively adore her. The babies came first and soon after the wedding. It's a lot to take in."
"I know. I..."
A frown touched his brow when his phone started to vibrate. "Excuse me, I told Ms. Bailey to call if something was wrong."
Snatching up the phone, he answered.
"My wife..." He listened for a moment, his frown deepening. "What? Who?"
