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“I totally would have peeked,” Maceo admits, getting off his knees and swiping the envelope up in his hand. He holds out his free hand for me to take. We sit in the living room with the dogs curling up beside us. They know something significant is about to happen even without knowing what it may be.
My heart is racing, and my palms are moist. “I’m nervous. Why am I so nervous?”
“Because it’s a big deal, Pixie. You ready for this?”
With a smile, I nod at him.
Maceo holds me in his arms as he opens the envelope. He unfolds the paper…
I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand. Tears roll down my cheeks.
“Baby,” Maceo chokes, kissing my temple.
Boys. We’re having boys.
* * *
After we cuddle, shedding tears of joy, we walk over to headquarters to share the news with everyone. My parents cry, the crew cheers, and Punk insists we name one twin after him.
“Not gonna happen, bro,” Maceo says for the umpteenth time. “I’m not naming one of my kids Punk.”
“But it’s a good name,” Punk tries to reason. “Jo’s my sis; I protect her and the little hellions you two created. I think I deserve one of the two gents to be my namesake.”
I sit on the couch with Maceo’s arm draped around my shoulder, tucking me close to his side. I had thought little about names, but now that we know the sexes, I can’t help but think about it. “I like the name Easton.”
Punk hisses like I pinched him. “Blasphemy! Why would you speak such an ugly name?”
“What’s so bad about it? You want one kid named after you. Maceo vetoed Punk. Easton is your actual name, and it’s nice,” I argue. I look at Maceo. “I like it. He’d be named after his uncle.”
Maceo runs his thumb over his full bottom lip, contemplating. “Easton Maceo Tabares…doesn’t sound bad at all.”
Punk throws his hands in the air. “Seriously?! You’re cool with Easton, but not Punk?”
“One of my firstborn is probably going to have your name—be honored, asshole,” Maceo says coolly before getting up to get another celebratory drink.
Punk sits in Maceo’s vacated seat, folding his arms and sulking. “Can’t believe you two. Do you realize how much your kid is going to be picked on? ‘Hey Easton, which way is North? Hey Easton, do you rise with the sun?’”
Amused, I listen to his tirade while sipping my herbal tea. “Sooo…did you beat the kids up?”
“Every fucking one of them,” Punk says smugly.
“It’s not like we’re naming him Sue,” I joke.
Punk turns toward me and rests his hand on my bump. “I’m sorry, my young padawan. I tried talking them into acoolname, but they’re stubborn asses.”
Punk pulls his hand away with a yelp of surprise. “What the fuck was that?”
Huh?“What was what?”
With his eyes full of wonder, Punk places his hand back on my belly. He gasps but doesn’t remove his hand this time. “Don’t you feel that?”
“Feel what?”
“The babies are kicking.”
Yeah, right.“It’s probably gas.”
“No, seriously, Jo.” Punk takes my hand and places it right where his had been.
