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With the stress andanxiety of the last few days, along with Einar officially naming me and Seff as the twins’ adoptive parents, I had nothing left inside to hold back the flood of tears that burst forth the second Einar walked out the door.
Seff carried me into my bedroom and tucked me into bed, where we lay wrapped in each other’s arms. I’d missed his touch, the feel of his skin, and the sound of his voice. Every word he whispered, every soft kiss to my temple, was a comfort I hadn't realized I'd needed so badly.
“Go ahead, cry it all out, darlin’, I can take it.”
His love and compassion shined a light into the darkest places inside me. His unconditional love gave me peace and joy and the freedom to feel everything—to share everything.
Crying was not what I wanted to do in my bed with mysakana, but it was what I needed.
––––––––
Iwoke to the soundof quiet voices out in the living room.
“What’s her favorite flower?”
“Lupines,” Arteisma said.
“Not the pink ones, the purple ones,” Nereida added. “What’s your favorite flower, Seff?”
“Hmm...I never thought about it before.”
I slid from the warm bed and slipped on my robe. My eyes felt swollen and scratchy, but my soul had a unique lightness.
“So, her favorite color is purple?” Seff asked.
“Nope, it’s brown,” the twins answered together.
I stood leaning against my doorway, gazing at the most beautiful sight—mysakanaand two little females wrapped up in crocheted afghans, cuddling on the futon.
“Did Seff tell you the good news?”
“What good news?” the twins asked at the same time.
“Nope.” Seff gave me a nod and a wink. “Since you two were sleeping, you didn’t get to hear.”
“Well...” I strolled into the room and stood a few feet from where they all sat. “Your Grandpa Einar said, if Seff and I wish it, we can keep you.”
They both stared at me, their brown eyes big and round.
Nereida was the first to blink and the first to speak. “Do you wish it?”
“You betcha!” Seff answered.
I tapped my bottom lip as if I needed to think before answering. Then, I pulled a funny face. “Absolutely. I wish it so hard.”
The twins shared a look, then big grins. And then, shared a pair of high-pitched squeals.
Through tears, hugs, and dancing around the yurt, they conveyed they chose us, too.
“Who wants breakfast?” Seff asked.
More happy, high-pitched squeals.
“Get on some warm clothes, and we'll go.”
And that was incentive enough for more squealing as the twins raced up the spiral staircase to dress.
“Remember when I said I had a plan?” Seff asked as he wrapped an arm around my waist.
