She watched their little group walk down the cleared path to the water, Nina and Mav walking on either side of their girls, Markus holding James as they monologued gibberish to each other behind them. And then she turned and watched Benji hold a tent peg still for Willow to hit with the mallet while Wren watched on, and unspeakable peace washed through her.
Sierra closed her eyes. She breathed in the earthy scent of the dell and just lingered in the moment.
‘Mommy, can we go now?’ The question, coming from Wren, had Sierra opening her eyes.
She smiled at her younger twin, replied, ‘We’re just going to finish setting up, and then we’ll head down there, okay?’
Alone with her family, Sierra set Willow and Wren up in their camping chairs with some grapes and a chunk of Benji’s homemade bread, spread thick with peanut butter, in the hope that she could keep them occupied for ten minutes while she and Benji quickly finished setting up. But she kept one eye trained on them at all times. So, she saw when Wren reached over and snatched a grape off Willow’s tray and popped it into her own mouth with a slightly unhinged grin, and she saw when Willow reached over, her fist curled, and hit Wren.
Curious to see if they would resolve it themselves, Sierra waited. Wren raised one pudgy hand to her ear. Her green eyes, so like Benji’s, welled. But the temper she’d inherited from Sierra sparked beneath the pain. She moved her hand off her ear and reached over to hit Willow back, but before Sierra could issue a warning, Benji’s voice, calm but firm, cut through the chilly, evening air. ‘Don’t even think about it, Wren.’
‘She hit me!’ Wren exclaimed with disgust, but she lowered her hand and sent her sister a look of pure dislike.
‘You stole her grape,’ Benji countered.
‘She got more than me!’
‘You each got ten exactly,’ Sierra interceded, having learned very quickly that everything between the twins had to be the same otherwise one would throw a tantrum. But unlike Benji, her voice was steel. It was Mom Voice, perfected.
Wren piped down, but not before having the last word. ‘Hers were bigger.’
Sierra tried to fight her grin, but when she felt it breaking across her face anyway, she angled away so that she didn’t encourage the behaviour – and met Benji’s eyes.
He was watching her, his smile big, his green eyes bright with humour. She wasn’t sure how he had only gotten more attractive with age. The grey coming into his thick hair a little more each year made him look rugged and distinguished. His muscles were somehow thicker though they’d celebrated his forty-fifth birthday just a few months prior.
Sierra’s heart swelled with love.
Unable to stay away, she laboriously rose from where she’d been unrolling a canvas tarp to put the kids’ toys on and went to him. Benji’s arms opened for her – always.
‘How are you feeling?’ His hand dropped to run gently over her pregnant stomach.
‘Incredible,’ she replied. But because she knew he worried, she nestled closer again, added, ‘Forget soccer. These two are going to be wrestlers.’
They had known that Benji’s grandmother was a twin, but they could never have anticipated that they would conceive twins once, let alone twice – and the second time had been the result of a surprise weekend getaway and one too many mezcal margaritas. So the plan for one baby had turned to two, and the plan to stop at three had quickly changed to stopping at four, giving them the bunch they’d always wanted.
Add in Mav and Nina’s kids, and Sierra had the chaotic family she’d always dreamed of. She and Nina had been playing ‘your turn with the Hunt bassinet’ for years, and while the original passed back and forth between them, Benji had built a matching second one when they’d found out they were having twins – the first time. The kids ran wild together, often dashing out of the adjacent ranch houses to meet on the shared grassy front lawn and swing beneath the oak tree or climb into the Jeep with Mav or Benji to head down to the barn for a group riding lesson. The sound of their combined laughter, squeals, and occasional tears was constant. And beautiful. It reminded Sierra of her childhood with Mav and Benji. It was wild and free and happy.
‘I can’t believe we only have two months to go,’ Benji whispered, his voice tinged with that old fear.
Sierra understood it. Some nights, when the boys kept her awake with their kicks, she struggled to keep her mind from going back to Ava and that year After. But through years of therapy, she and Benji had learned how to welcome all that ugly emotion – the fear and sadness and bitterness. Now, they embraced it. They grieved, still, but without shame. And then they let it pass. Through trial and error and conscious practice, they had learned to not only be gracious to each other, but to themselves, which was something neither of them had ever been very good at, Before or After.
‘Why don’t you sit down while I finish setting up.’ Benji gently took her hand and guided her to one of the camping chairs set up next to the twins.
Because she was tired, she let him lead her and sat down. But because she would always find more energy to give her kids, when Willow slipped out of her chair and came and crawled onto her lap, Sierra wrapped both arms around her daughter.
Willow placed one tiny hand on Sierra’s stomach, and when one of the boys kicked beneath her palm, she gasped. Her eyes widened. ‘He felt me.’
‘Yeah.’ Taking Willow’s hand in hers, she moved it around to the side of her stomach where there was more movement.
Willow laughed happily.
Never one to be left out, Wren pushed her tray onto the floor, scattering the grapes she had been so bullish about only moments before, and came to stand at Sierra’s side. ‘Can I feel the babies?’
Sierra took her tiny hand and placed it next to Willow’s.
Wren giggled when she felt the first kick. She turned to Willow, and Sierra saw that twin connection in motion as questions and answers that she had no way of knowing passed between the girls, all stolen grapes and retaliations forgotten.
‘Are you excited to meet your brothers?’
