Wyoming Christmas Surprise. Melissa Senate
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“Watch out that he doesn’t pee on you,” Allie said. “Diapers are right inside the top drawer with cornstarch and ointments if he’s chafed.”
Theo’s eyes widened and he grabbed a diaper and the container of cornstarch. He gave the creases of the baby’s legs and his bottom a good sprinkle. Then he slid the diaper under Ethan. It took him a few seconds longer than it should have to figure out where the sticky tabs were folded, but he got the job done. He wriggled Ethan’s legs back into the pajamas, then held him against his chest, relishing the scent of him—baby shampoo, cornstarch, baby.
I’m your father, he said silently to Ethan, staring at him. You’re my son.
“You take Olivia,” Allie said, gesturing at the freshly changed baby girl banging a teething ring against the bars of the crib as she sat and made ba, ba, la noises. “One in each arm. The family room is small, but it’s babyproofed and they can crawl and pull up to their hearts’ content.”
The family room. No such room existed two years ago.
He scooped up his daughter, mesmerized by her thick dark hair and her green eyes—so like his—and her dimple, which was all Allie’s.
“Ba da!” Olivia squealed as Theo cradled her against his left side, Ethan on the other.
“Hey there, little lady,” Theo said. I’m your father, he added to himself. He’d introduce himself to them all downstairs.
He followed Allie to the family room, which used to be a dining room they’d rarely used unless they had company. Now the room was painted a lemon yellow with two murals of zoo animals on the walls. Foam mats with letters and numbers covered the floor and everything in the room had rubber edges. There were Exersaucers, a big playpen, tons of toys and stuffed animals, and a bookcase adhered to the wall, full of little books.
Allie set her two on the mat and so did Theo.
The babies began crawling, and he watched them with wonder. He lost track of who was who, his heart sinking.
“I guess it’s easy for you to tell the three boys apart,” he said. “I forget who was wearing what. Well, I know Ethan is in the green pajamas, now that I think about it.”
“They’re color-coded. Ethan is always in green. Tyler is always in blue. And Henry is always in orange. Lucky Olivia gets whatever color I feel like. I can tell the boys apart, but it’s easier on my sisters and Geraldine or whoever else is helping out if we have a system we can all rely on. This way, no one misses a meal or gets fed twice or doesn’t get a turn at this or that. That kind of thing.”
He looked from Ethan to Tyler to Henry, taking in the colors and studying their faces, their hair, their expressions. “Ah, Tyler has more intense features than Henry. And Ethan has lighter hair than his brothers. Ethan and Tyler have hazel eyes. Henry’s are green like Olivia’s.”
She nodded. “There are lots more differences. They may be quadruplets, but they’re very individual. Olivia loves mashed chickpeas, but her brothers will fling them at the wall if I dare put the smashed beans on their trays. Ethan loves chocolate ice cream, but Henry will only eat vanilla. Tyler is the most adventurous eater. Loves all vegetables, too.”
Theo smiled. “I have a lot to learn about them.” He looked at the four, crawling and playing and pulling up and babbling. “As you said, they’re all so beautiful and healthy and happy. I never want to leave this room.”
Allie laughed. “Oh, give it a good twenty minutes.”
He reached for her hand but felt her hesitation. He had to give her time. He knew that. He couldn’t just waltz right back in.
Maybe we should take a break, he remembered saying just a week before his “death.” He’d come home late, after two in the morning, and Allie had been awake and frantic. He’d been so laser-focused on the McBruin case he’d forgotten to call or text, and he’d completely forgotten they were supposed to go to her good friend’s thirtieth-birthday party on a dinner cruise. She’d been looking forward to that, had bought a new dress. And he’d forgotten it all. They’d had one whopper of an argument that night, everything under the sun had been brought up and flung. She wanted to start a family. He wanted space. She wanted more of him. He wanted to be able to do his job as needed.
Maybe we should take a break...
He’d been shocked he’d said it, not sure if he meant it or not. The hurt in her eyes, the way her face had crumpled had rattled him, floored him, and he hated how he still hadn’t known in that moment if they should take a break or not. He always felt like he had the answers, knew how to handle himself and the world. Except when it came to Allie and their marriage. He’d been floundering, sinking, breaking her heart every day, every night.
Let that go and start with now, he reminded himself. You’re not the same person you were two years ago. Neither is Allie.
He sat down on the floor and let the babies crawl over him, scooping up one and then another and blowing raspberries on their pj-covered bellies. He’d always thought that when people said that their children’s laughter was the best sound in the world it was a cliché, but now he got it. There was no more beautiful sound. Particularly baby giggles.
“Da-da!” Henry said, throwing a foam block at him and laughing.
Theo sucked in a breath. “Did he just call me da-da?”
“Well, to be honest, they call all men ‘da-da’—the mailman, the teenaged checkout bagger at the supermarket, George Futters three doors down, and he’s ninety-two. It’s developmental at this age.”
“Except this time, Henry got it right,” he said, unable to shake what had to be a goofy smile on his face. He picked up Henry and held him out a bit, running a finger down his impossibly soft cheek. “You’re right, Henry. I am da-da. I’m your daddy.”
Allie burst into tears.
“Hey,” he said gently, Henry in one arm while he reached the other out to her. “What’s wrong?”
She wiped under her eyes. “I just never thought I’d hear that. That they’d hear that. Their father saying ‘I’m your daddy.’ Holding them. Being here.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was smiling at the same time.
He nodded, unable to speak, his chest feeling way too tight to contain his heart.
He picked up Tyler. “I’m your daddy,” he said, kissing the top of his head. Then he did the same with Ethan and Olivia.
“Well, I guess the introductions have been made,” Allie said, grabbing a tissue from the box on a shelf and dabbing at her eyes. “I have to say, Theo, this is going well.”
For once, he’d made her cry in a good way.
But he still heard the so far that she hadn’t added.
But then it was Olivia’s turn to throw a foam block at Henry, which started a round of shrieking, and he watched Allie turn into supermom, gently disciplining Olivia with a “no throwing,” and suddenly Theo was right in the thick of it all, feeling very much like he belonged.
It was only when he’d glance at Allie that he’d feel a distance, a disconnection. Babies were easy. No history. They didn’t talk. You took care of them and loved them and nurtured them and all was well. Allie—his wife—was a whole other story.
But he’d been waiting almost two years for this moment. And he was going to make it work—no matter how hard it was or how long it took.
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