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“Up to you, honey,” I remind her. “You’re doing all the heavy lifting.”
I leave the doctor to her business, not interfering and playing the doting partner as I hold Beth’s hand. The images I used to remember as grainy and hard to see have come a long way in the past decades. I’m not exactly sure what happens next. I remember seeing double suddenly as if there were two babies inside Beth. Then the room goes sideways and then black. Waking up or coming to a few minutes later, it’s me on an exam table and Beth holding my hand.
“What? What happened?” I ask, feeling lightheaded still.
Dr. Bancroft leans in, slapping a folder against my chest, obviously late for something else because I fainted.
“It’s twins, stud-muffin. Congratulations! I gotta fly. Emergency,” she clips, then gone in a moment.
Beth chews her lip and seems nervous, but I have to ask her myself to make sure I just heard right.
“Did she just say…?” I ask, feeling faint again, grateful to be lying down already. Beth’s head nods furiously before she finally smiles wide, relieved at the effect the news is having on me.
“You-you don’t mind?” she asks shyly, hooking her arms around my neck before I plant the biggest kiss of her life on her lips.
Mind? How could I mind?
Two babies! It’s like a dream come true, especially today because I’ve already planned to propose to Beth. I knew she’d find out we were pregnant, and no children of mine will ever be born without a proper mom and dad. It’s just that old-fashioned side of me, I guess.
So, I’m not surprised Beth’s only hang-up about being pregnant is that she isn’t married. My big ring box opening is a bit of a fizzer, only because she’s been waiting for me to ask for weeks, apparently.
“But the answer is yes?” I have to ask her. “You will be my wife, Beth?”
“And mommy to our beautiful babies!” she finally squeals, admiring the ring at a distance and finally giving me a smile that’s as beautiful as she is—my soon-to-be wife, who already has two on the way.
I just knew Beth and I would be perfect. It doesn’t get any better than this.
EPILOGUE
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER
Beth
I love Bowdie. I really do, but when I have two babies that both wanna come out at the same time, and my man Bowdie’s just telling me to “breathe?”I call him things that even make him blush, and we’ve said it all and done it all in the bedroom. I draw your attention to the two babies trying to escape my belly as proof.
In between trying to breathe like he says, calling him every name under the sun, I see Bowdie’s face shift when I gasp, “Where’s my dad!?”
I need him just as much as I need Bowdie right now.
And Lucy… Of course, I need Lucy, but where are they?
Oh, that’s right. I had a forbidden crush that ballooned into a passionate romance with her dad, who knocked me up, so…
“They’ll be here,” Bowdie reassures me, rubbing the middle of my back, soothing me but annoying the shit out of me at the same time before I feel like he’s the sweetest man on earth all over again.
This is childbirth, people. It’s complicated.
At one point, once the contractions really start, I’m sure there’s a wild animal in the delivery room. One that speaks just like me and screeches “Bowdie” a lot, but he’s as solid as a rock.
My rock’s right where I need him, and despite fainting when he found out we were having twins, he’s been the calming force between us whenever I get overwhelmed. I’m more grateful than anything that Bowdie insisted we come back to the States before I was too far along. Neither of us wanted to settle in London forever, but for me, it’s important as an American to have my babies where they were made.
Plus, I missed my dad and Lucy like nothing else. I’m amazed they still won’t treat Bowdie or me the same, even though they’re less aggressive than they used to be about the whole thing, but I rarely see Dad. Bowdie doesn’t like to talk about the fact that Lucy never visits. I thought bygones would be bygones, but even Bowdie’s messages to them both that I’m in labor haven’t changed their opinions about us.
I’m well into the birthing process in no time. Bowdie’s strong hand grips mine. His three-day beard growth scratches my forehead as he kisses away the sweat and tears, sharing every second of what’s a frightening but beautiful and amazingly painful thing all rolled up into a blur that feels like it’ll never end.
Then, just as quickly as it all came on, it’s over.
They’re here. Our babies. Perfectly healthy, over-sized, one-of-a-kind, beautiful, darling babies.
