Peter laughed and sipped his wine, leaning his head back.
“Isn’t that cute?” Mary asked. “I swear; with her imagination, she’s going places. I won’t be surprised if she turns out to become an author one day or a screenwriter or something like that. She’s got what it takes. And Blake?” Mary shook her head, smiling from ear to ear. “That boy is adorable. He took my hand just yesterday and told me he wanted to live in our backyard when he grew older, to be able always to be close to me, and protect me when I got old. Isn’t that the sweetest thing? He’s going to make some girl very happy one day.”
Peter nodded slowly, then ordered more wine. Mary sipped her glass and peeked at her watch.
“It’s been half an hour. I should go check on them.”
She felt Peter’s hand on her arm. “Let me do it.”
She tried to hide her disappointment behind a smile. She had wanted to see them and had actually looked forward to it. But Peter believed he was helping her out. She couldn’t really get angry at that.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind.”
He gave her a look. He rose to his feet and bent over and kissed the top of her hair, a gesture that felt both protective and gentle. “You take care of those kids all day long, twenty-four-seven. You need a break. I will go. You stay here, and I’ll check on them. You can go next time, okay?”
She forced another smile, then nodded. “O-okay.”
He leaned down and kissed her lips, then left with the keycard in his hand. The minutes felt like hours while Mary waited, and when he finally returned, her wine glass was empty. She looked up at him expectantly. She almost gasped as she spoke: “How were they? Is everything okay?”
He exhaled, then ran a hand through his hair. He sat down with a sigh. “They’re fine, Mary. Just like I told you they would be. Now, let’s get back to our dinner. I’m starving.”
Prologue
She had the Alaskan Halibut, and he had the New Zealand Elk Chop. They ate in silence, except for Peter’s groans of delight as he chewed. The food was beyond excellent; there was no doubt about it, but for some reason, Mary seemed to have lost her appetite. The more she put in her mouth, the more it seemed to grow in her throat and made it hard to swallow. She didn’t know why she was feeling this way, nor did she understand why the earlier so soft chairs felt hard to sit in or why the walls in the restaurant felt like they were closing in on her. It was like the anxiousness that had crept up on her all day grew larger than anything else, and she could no longer escape it.
Something was wrong, and she had no idea what to do about it.
You’re being silly. Peter was just up there with the children, and they were fine. They were sleeping, he said. They won’t even notice you’ve been gone.
“And you’re sure they were sleeping, right?” she asked. “Both of them?”
She looked up at him. The look on her face changed to uncertainty. A real smile spread across his, and it miraculously eased the tension—at least for a second or two. Then it was back…the deep, strange fear. His hand crept across the tablecloth and grasped hers in his. He rubbed his thumb on top of her hand.
“Relax, Mary. You’re going to drive yourself crazy with worry. They were fine. Sleeping like babies. Trust me.”
She smiled nervously. “Of course, I trust you. It’s just…”
His eyes caught hers, and they locked. “Let it go; will you, Mary? We need to be able to go out as a couple now and then. We have to be more than just parents. We’re also a married couple, remember?”
She nodded, biting her lip gently. He was right, of course, he was. It was just that she had never had that same desire to be alone with him as he had with her. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him or enjoy being with him anymore; it was just…well, it was like something was missing when they were alone. A part of her was missing. They were missing…the twins. It was like she wasn’t complete when they weren’t there.
But she never could get Peter to understand how she felt because he didn’t feel the same way.
She just wished they could all be together all the time, all four of them.
“Maybe I should go check on them,” she said, swallowing another bite that she barely tasted because her mind was elsewhere.
“What? But I just went fifteen minutes ago?” Peter protested.
Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I just…I feel so anxious.”
“I was literally just up there, and I told you they were fine. I stood in the doorway, and they were both asleep. You don’t trust me, do you?”
“Of course, I do,” she said.
But it was a lie, and they both knew it. She hadn’t trusted him since the twins arrived. She wanted to explain that it had nothing to do with him; it was her. She didn’t trust anyone when it came to her children. It was just because he didn’t feel the same responsibility as she did. His entire life wasn’t about their every need like hers was. It was hard to let go and trust others when it came to your children. Peter hadn’t been there much. She always took care of them…even at night. He didn’t know that sometimes Blake would forget to go to the bathroom if he woke up at night. Sometimes, he would not go because he was too scared of the monsters in the closet to get out of the bed. Then he’d end up wetting himself. Peter didn’t know about these things, and she hadn’t told him to walk in there and look closely at Blake to be sure he wasn’t awake. Sometimes, he’d lie in there, too scared to say anything. You’d have to stand by his bed and look into his face to know for sure. You’d have to check if his eyes were closed.
Now, suddenly, she was obsessed with the thought. He could be up there right now, trying to hold it in, or maybe he had already wet the bed?
“I just need to make sure Blake doesn’t need to pee. I forgot to ask him before bedtime if he needed to go again. I’m scared he might wet the bed.”
Peter exhaled again, then sipped his wine. “I can’t believe you. Well, if it’ll make you feel better, then, by all means, you should go.”
She shot to her feet, then grabbed the key card from the table. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
“I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Prologue
The keycard slid through the reader with a click, and the small light turned green. Mary pushed the door open with a relieved sigh. In a few seconds, she’d get to see for herself. In a few seconds, she’d see her babies again and know that they were all right. She’d finally feel the sense of peace she had lacked all night long. She’d finally be able to relax.
Babies, Mommy is here.
The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside was a draft. It struck her as odd that there would be one as she closed the door and it disappeared. Next, she noticed the open door. The door to the children’s bedroom was left fully open and not just slightly ajar to let in some light. It was probably from Peter when he went to check on them, she decided, then moved closer when she realized there was a light on inside the twins’ bedroom. More light than she expected. This filled her with an unease that was hard to explain away. It could, of course, be that Peter had left some sort of light on, but why would he do that? The kids slept with the door slightly ajar, not a nightlight.