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“I know, Kings,” she says, gripping his shoulder. He takes it and brings it to his lips, kissing it. I watch him do it then glance back at Lana, she just smirks and winks at me. She let Kingston have that one, no fight, no argument. She is learning.
“TWINS?” DAD ASKS ME, AND I nod, nervously biting on my lip. “Oh, Shayla, baby, you’re so young. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I’m surprised he hasn’t yelled or leaped out of his chair, his reaction much more tame than what I was expecting.
Though he’s being cautious, this whole thing about me being ‘sure’ is actually starting to hurt. “Please understand something, all of you.” I gesture to Kingston, as well as my dad. “A few months ago, I lay alone in a hospital room digesting the news that my chances of conceiving were slim to none. Coming to face the reality on my own that I may never be able to have a family. That crushed my soul, but then like a spark of hope, Trey and I were able to get pregnant. So yes, I may be young and we may be in way over
our heads, but I won’t feel guilty over our babies, this is a miracle.” I’m looking down at my stomach by the time I finish, watching my thin, manicured hand run over the barely there bloat. Looking up, I’m met by three very intense stares, all watery eyed and wide.
“What?” I break the silence.
“Fuck, that was beautiful,” my dad speaks, coming to sit next to me on the couch.
“I’m so sorry you felt alone and scared, princess. But you’re so right, you just put that into perspective.” He kisses my head and I close my eyes, accepting his approval. Feeling way better about breaking the news this time than with my brother.
“Where is Trey?” Dad asks.
“He went to see Pops with Kathy, he wanted to tell them together.”
“Well, that’s sweet, I had lunch with Kathy the other day, after we ran into each other, and she seems to be doing better.” We all look at him sideways, that’s random.
“You went to lunch with Kathy?” Kingston says from his place by the mantel.
“Oh shut it, she’s a nice lady, don’t make it fucking weird,” my dad retorts, brushing him off. Kings and I share a look. They never really interacted much, so lunch seems like it would be awkward, but we digress.
“Now, tell me about what the doctor said, is everything okay with the attack, are you guys pressing charges?” my dad asks, his jaw ticking.
“Yes, we are, and everything is fine.” I have talked last night over in circles, to the point that my ears are going to start bleeding if I have to hear myself tell it one more time.
“All right, but, princess, if that stuff starts to mess with you, or you start to have any traumatic stress from it, talk about it. It’s been a rough year for you, don’t bottle it all up.”
“Thanks, Dad. Now, can we talk all things wedding? I need help with some stuff.” All hands on deck, Lana, Kingston, and my dad help me get the venue and the ordained preacher set up. The wedding will be on the beach, with just our small group of friends and family. The reception will be held at Trey’s Dad’s beach house. I wish we had stayed there when we visited last time, but Trey wasn’t ready to be that close to the potent memories, and I can respect that.
I have a couple tricks up my sleeve for Trey, one that he has no idea about. When Kathy and I were cleaning out some things, she gave me some videos that Pops made throughout the years. Videos for Trey, one for every special occasion in his life. I was a bit taken aback when Kathy shared them with me, not sure why he made them in the first place. She explained that Pops lived with constant fear that he would one day pass too soon and Trey would then have to mourn the loss of two parents, in a sense. So, alas, he made these videos, ones I haven’t watched yet but had Kathy take to get burned and edited onto a disk for the wedding. I’m going to play him his father’s words on our special day.
Hesitant at first, I almost didn’t want to do it, unsure of how Trey would react, but I’ve seen him changing, seen him healing, especially when he told me he didn’t feel as sad about his mother leaving the second time as he did the first. Then when he told me today he was going to see Pops for the first time, I knew he was ready.
Trey Joseph Adams was a ghost of a man, living in the shadows of his past and using it as a shield to really love not only others, but mostly himself. Now just a short year later, we stand united, forgiving the past and forgetting the damage it once caused. We are healing as one, and never have I been more ready to walk down the aisle and make a promise in front of man and God to love Trey in all things, in all forms, in all hardships and victories, as one—for always.
“LET’S SEE, SISSY.” I SPIN in my mermaid style dress, which fits snug to my body and shows off my tiniest little bump. Honestly I just look bloated, but with twins and a naturally small physique, the babies are showing faster than most.
I turn to face my brother in the doorway of the upstairs bedroom. I love Pops’s house, well now Trey’s house, shoot our house in less than an hour. I’m marrying the love of my life today. The weekend rushed by in a hurried blur and now we are moments away from saying I do.
“Does it look okay?” I question nervously. Lana’s searching for my shoes in the guest bedroom where she and Kingston are staying.
“Oh, Shayla. Fuck. You look like a fucking angel.” His words make me feel like the little girl I once was, standing on his toes and dancing in my mother’s dress. One of my favorite memories by far with my brother.
“Really, so I don’t look like a total chunky?” I point to my belly and he shakes his head, moving toward me. The way he’s smiling—admiring me, I feel the swarm of tears brewing, the ones where I sob uncontrollably. I don’t want to ruin my makeup, so I try to push them down, but I see that he’s struggling to rein in his, making my attempt moot.
Let me tell you something—Kingston Donovan does not cry. I’ve seen it three times. All of which involved Lana. Seeing him like this over me makes me feel completely overwhelmed.
“Don’t cry. I can’t handle any more emotions for the day.” Kingston leans down and kisses my belly.
“Grow strong in there, little ones.”
Chuckling at his little baby voice, I squeeze his shoulder. He starts talking about them being little boys, convinced that our family needs more testosterone, to make more good quality caveman. My God. He has no idea about Lana and I feel terrible, only more guilty as he talks to my children. I need her to tell him.
“And to answer you—no, you don’t look fat, I think this tiny, barely there bump makes you more radiant.” He distracts my thoughts, leaving his caveman talk behind.
“Thanks, big guy,” I reply, kissing his cheek.
