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“You better. We eloped.” I glance down at the antique-looking diamond ring Julian got me. A marquise cut diamond surrounded by gray diamonds like his eye color. It’s unusual, different, yet stunning. The gray diamonds resemble the darkness we overcame; the huge white diamond proves that no matter the darkness, the light will outshine it eventually. It’s the kind of ring that belongs to an epic love story.
"And then three weeks later, instead of going on a honeymoon, I’m peeing on a stick like a feral forest animal and finding out I’m pregnant,” I grumble, then pause and smile.
Twins! As in two humans growing inside of me.
Harper literally passed out when I told her. She’s since recovered and has sent me so many creams, pills, and lotions, and I’m sure some of them are potions she concocted herself to help combat stretch marks. This isn’t out of the kindness of her heart; she Googled twins and was met with horrifying pictures, which she showed me, and we both started freaking out.
Julian calmed us down after he ushered Harper out of the house. Now Harper is on her‘I’m sorry I scared you’guilt train and buys me endless beauty products to ensure I look "fine as hell" after the babies arrive.
She also has sent me surprise packages of cute maternity clothes, most of which I actually wear and like. I should have worn one of those items tonight.
“Next Christmas, they will be with us,” Julian beams, his eyes on my stomach as he pushes open the front door.
I smile and grasp his hand tighter.
We’re having a boy and a girl. We’re naming our girl Emma after Julian’s mother. We’re going to tell his dad that tonight. I think he’ll take it well. I hope. And we’re naming our boy Peter. I debated this for months, unsure if calling my son Peter would too often bring up memories of my brother. Would it continually dredge up the past? I discussed it with Dr. Peterson and concluded that some memories are okay to keep in the present, like my brother's memory. I know my son will be an amazing older brother to his sister. He will protect her and watch over her just as Peter did for me. It’s my job as their mother to teach them to listen to each other. Sometimes, we can’t trust our own judgment; we have to rely on others to sense things we're blind to.
I want them to be able to lean on each other and trust each other.
I rub my stomach and start to dream about next Christmas with our twins. I've had a lot of family members taken from me, but just like Julian vowed, we're going to make new memories, start a family, rejoice, and live. This new chapter in my life is going to outshine every bad one.
***
“Here, try this!” Harper beams, her voice so peppy that it's as if she's a cheerleader trying to coax me into winning the game. I eye the pink—or is it violet?—drink. And is that green at the bottom? It looks like swamp water in a fantasy land.
“I made it,” Harper adds.
That's what I was scared of. No bottled, FDA-approved drink has that many shades. If I drink that, I might turn into a leprechaun and be bouncing over a rainbow.
Kent covers his mouth as he chuckles, and Elsie starts to laugh as well. Harper glances over her shoulder, silencing them with a harsh look.
I look for Julian, knowing he wouldn’t want me to consume anything Harper has made, but he’s nowhere in sight.
“I can’t,” I rub my stomach. "No alcohol when preggers."
“Poppy!” Harper pouts,“Obviously, I know your condition. I found a mock-tail recipe for pregnant women. This is filled with peptides and vitamins you and the babies need. And look,” she points at the rim of the glass,“that’s sugar, not salt. Too much salt is bad for babies.” She pushes the drink closer to me.
“It’s good. I swear. I tried it.” She adds.
I accept the glass,“Tried it, or was it so good you drank one too?”
What we do for family.I sigh and slowly raise the glass to my lips. It has a somewhat fruity smell.
“I tried it. I’m not pregnant, so no need to waste those yummy vitamins on me when you need them more.”
"Well, that sold it." I chide.
“Not yet,” Kent winks as he looks at Harper's flat stomach.
Harper rolls her eyes. "My vagina will never be stretched, Kent."
Kent has had baby fever since I got pregnant. That terrifies me because I don't want his desire to make Harper run for the hills. I also don't want him to give up his dream of marriage and kids. I hope they find a middle ground.
"I stretch it all the time," he replies with a cheeky grin.
"Oh my god!" I glare at them to stop. Elsie clams up, looking as out of place as a nun at a bachelor party.
Kent is suddenly bashful, "Shit, sorry, Elsie."
