“Yes,” she said automatically then shook her head and bit her lip. Their fresh start had to be rooted in honesty. Janie extricated herself from the girls as she stood, pressing her hand against her stomach. “I’ve got a cannonball in here, and it feels like it could explode into a thousand cramps and spasms. I’m a little afraid to feed it.”
Hannah frowned and rushed over to Janie. “Are you okay? Do we need to get you to the hospital?”
“Who’s going to the hospital?” Hannah’s dad came into the hall from the living room and scooped up Tia and Luna into his arms, while Chloe clung onto Janie’s leg like a limpet.
“No one,” Janie said. “I’m just…nervous, I suppose.”
“Come and get the girls settled at the table while I finish up dinner.” Hannah took Janie’s hand. “Everything’s going to be great.”
Janie could’ve wept at the comfort and safety Hannah’s simple physical touch gave her, and she nodded, trusting her wife. “Okay.” She unpeeled Chloe from her leg and lifted her up to follow Tom into the dining room.
By the time they’d managed to get their three wriggling worms into their seats at the table, Hannah had brought in a giant cauldron of her special homemade beef chili and all the fixings.
Janie gestured to the side dish of ground beef. “Still not converted to Hannah’s idea of chili, Tom?”
He rolled his eyes. “I spent too long in Texas to think of this as chili but,” he grabbed the side of meat and dumped it into his dish, “the extra beef lowers the ratio of beans to meat, so I’ll grin and bear it.”
Hannah picked up a cornbread muffin and waved it at him. “You could always cook your own meals.”
Tom spooned a huge helping of chili into his bowl and laughed. “Nah, not having to think about that is the second-best thing about living with you.”
“What’s the first?” Janie asked.
Tom nodded toward the triplets. “Those three tiny terrors.” He smiled softly, and his eyes went glassy.
Janie glanced at Hannah and saw her expression was identical. Envy tugged at her heart. Their father-daughter relationship was a far cry from the one Janie had experienced. Tom had dropped his whole life instantly to come to Hannah’s rescue, and he seemed more than happy in their house. She nibbled the inside of her cheek as it occurred to Janie that she didn’t know what his longer-term plans were. Or was this it?
“Is that enough?”
Janie only heard Hannah’s question distantly. “Sorry, what?”
Hannah held a half-full bowl aloft. “Chili. Is this enough?”
“It’s perfect, thank you.” Janie took it from her and pushed away the issue of Tom’s living arrangements for future consideration.
They fell into easy conversation as they ate, and the girls told as elaborate stories as they could with their limited vocabulary about the park, the ducks, and the dogs they’d seen that day.
It was all so normal. So beautifully, preciously normal.
After dinner, they bathed the girls together, and then read bedtime stories side by side, their shoulders touching, taking turns with the characters. Janie loved the way Hannah immersed herself in the acting, creating wild and ridiculous voices that made the girls giggle adorably. When the triplets were finally asleep, they went back down to the living room. Tom left a note on the table saying he’d gone to the bar to watch the game with his friends. Janie had no ideawhichgame, or even which sport, but it was nice that he’d already met some new people. Maybe he really was here to stay. Again, she shook that potential issue away. She and Hannah had far more pressing problems to deal with, starting with their therapy homework.
“I picked up some special notebooks from Four-Sided.” Hannah retrieved a paper bag from the sideboard and brought it over to the couch. She sat beside Janie and held the package to her chest. “I spent ages trying to find the right ones,” she said, then offered them to Janie.
“I didn’t think aboutwherewe’d write our lists.” Janie rubbed at her brow. “I’m failing at this already.”
“No, you’re not.” Hannah ran her thumb over the back of Janie’s hand. “We could’ve written on any of the fifty pads in the house, but I’ve been a crappy wife, and I wanted to do something special.” She pushed the paper bag at Janie again. “C’mon, I’m excited about this. I want to see which one you’ll choose.”
Janie smiled. She hadn’t seen Hannah so exuberant about anything other than their children in a while. She made a mental note that Hannah’s child-like enjoyment of things should go on her list.
She reached into the bag and pulled out two journals, one covered in cute baby elephants on a safari-type background, and the other featured a flock of white doves on a stylized blue sky. Matching pens sat in loops on the paper’s edge. Janie flicked through them to check the paper type, and her smile grew wider.
“That’s your favorite, right?” Hannah bounced on the sofa. “You like the grid paper for neatness, right?”
Janie ran her fingers over the smooth paper and nodded. “I do.” She turned the books over and flexed them in her hands. “I love soft cover more than hardback too.”
Hannah wiggled her whole body, and her eyes lit up. “I remembered. That’s why I went to Four-Squared. It?—”
“Was the first stationery store we went into together when I needed a new pen for work.” The memory jolted through her, and she chuckled. “You were so patient while I tried all the different options.”
