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Well, then.
One of the names was settled.
There was no way I was going to veto her sister's favorite flower for a name.
"Talk about it. I know you think she's overwhelmed. And she is in a way. But she wants to talk about it. Just not at baby boutiques where she feels inadequate and unprepared. She needs to talk about it around people who won't care that she says fuck a lot."
"Well, I think I can do that," I agreed. "Thanks, Len."
"Anytime," she told me, meaning it. The two were tight. Lou had gotten close with a lot of the girls, but with Lenny more so than anyone else. Maybe because they were both so guarded, cool even, because they had both lost sisters, because they just got each other.
The next morning, we talked about it.
With lots of fucks.Lou - 4 yearsI would swear they had been here for a year already. A year of sleepless nights. That was what it felt like anyway.
It was hard to accept it was just three months.
The other girls club moms swore that three months was some milestone, one where they would just start sleeping through the night.
I had a feeling they were just all full of shit, just feeding me things to make me get through the week.
Those evil bitches.
Had they just told me that my babies were simply going to suck my life-force from me - both literally and figuratively - for the first year of their lives, I at least could have prepared myself.
I mean, not that there was such a thing as being prepared for motherhood, no matter what the stupid books claimed.
It was the most exhausting, frustrating, wonderful experience.
I'd once walked in on Adler asleep on the bed with both babies on his bare chest, and about felt my ovaries combust.
He'd been good.
Better - as much as I hated to admit it - than me. Adler had a calmer side I simply didn't possess. And despite his worries that the crying might be triggering to him like it had been when he'd been young, he showed infinite stoicism in the face of their red-faced screaming they so often did no matter what we tried to do to calm them.
But Adler needed to take a shift at the compound because a bunch of the guys were out on a run, and I was, well, losing it.
They were crying.
I was crying.
It was just a big old crying session.
And I had no one to suck my boogies out as they filled my nose.
It was right about then that the doorbell rang.
And, quite frankly, if it was those kindly Jehovah's or Mormons or the goddamn electric guy, I was going to hand them a baby and beg for help.
There was no such thing as pride left for a mom who hadn't had a full night of sleep in months, hadn't had a proper shower in three days, and hadn't eaten anything other than healthy crap for the babies.
"Uh-oh," Summer murmured as soon as I opened the door, using the top of my daughter's head to wipe some tears out of my eyes, not even caring how insane that made me look.
"I think I'm losing my mind. I was gonna give them to the Jehovah's."
"Wait... what?" she asked, brows drawn low as she reached for one, pulling her to her chest, doing a little rock thing that I tried a thousand times to no avail, but worked in three seconds when Summer did it.
"I mean, they'd end up having to be those annoying people everyone has to ninja-hide from when they show up at the door, but at least they wouldn't have crazy women crying on their heads."
"Okay," Summer said, voice of infinite patience. "Hand him over," she demanded, holding an arm out for my son, Valen.
Violet, after my sister's favorite flower.
Valen, because, well, we thought it was badass.
"Now you need to go get in a shower. Then fall into your bed."
I didn't even think.
I didn't even fight it.
I just turned, and walked toward the master bedroom.
"Okay," I agreed, doing just that.
I woke up in a panic, disoriented, sure my babies were crying somewhere, but I couldn't hear them.
Which wasn't possible.
They were damn near always crying.
"Relax," Adler's voice called, his hand pressing my shoulder until my back hit the mattress again.
"Where are the babies?"
"On a walk."
"By themselves?!"
"Ooo-kay," Adler said, a mix of amused and concerned. "I think ya need to wake up a minute. Because, no, duchess, our three-month-old twins are not out taking a walk by themselves."
"What time is it?" I asked, taking a steadying breath.
"Four. In the afternoon. I came home after getting a text from Reign sayin' I was needed at home more than at the compound. So he took my place. Summer, Lo, and Chris are taking the babies - and Linny - for a long walk, so we can have some quiet.
