Because Monday was the day her new dental practice opened.
She woke up extra early that morning, mostly due to nerves, and spent more time than usual perfecting her hair and makeup. She and her partners still had plenty of details to finalize about the practice—and even more kinks to unravel—but the practice was ready for patients, and they were putting their collective best foot forward. The plan was to open the clinic part time until their clientele was established and then grow from there.
All in all, Jill was bright-eyed and ready for this new chapter of her life. She practically floated into the office that morning, looking at all their design touches—from the yellow- and white-accented waiting room, walls covered with big decals of giraffes and monkeys, to the ample greenery that dotted the halls—with fresh eyes. Her partners, Diana and Shanice, were already there, hanging balloons at the reception desk and passing out coffees. Their small staff consisted of just a receptionist and a hygienist for now, but that would soon be expanding as well.
“Hellooo, ladies,” Jill sang as she grabbed a coffee and a celebratory donut at the front desk. “We’re here! We made it!”
All the ladies cheered, sharing conversation over their drinks and breakfasts. Shanice unlocked the door right at eight, and when their first patients passed through the doors, Jill fought to keep the grin from cracking her cheeks.
Jill alternated between helping troubleshoot scheduling system issues, meeting her new patients, and getting her own office in order that morning. But around 1 p.m., the texts from Maxwell began.
“Hey, Jill—have you seen Shelley’s rag doll?”
And then, about five minutes later: “And Kevin’s stuffed turtle.”
Jill paused in her paperwork to reply. “They should both be in their bedrooms, why?”
No more texts came through, so Jill re-immersed herself in her paperwork. After two back-to-back new patient appointments, she returned to find two missed calls from Maxwell. She hurried to call him back.
“Hey, Maxwell, is everything okay?” she asked, wedging her cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she settled in front of her laptop to record patient notes.
“Cameron is coloring all over the walls,” he said, sounding more than exasperated.
Jill frowned. “Uh oh. With what?”
“Crayons. And markers. I don’t even know where he found the markers.”
Jill tutted. “I brought them last week, but they were hidden. How did he find them?”
“No idea. I’ve taken them all away, though.”
A soft knock on her office door made her twist. The receptionist poked her head in to tell her that her next patient was early.
“I have to run, Maxwell. My next appointment is here. Let’s touch base later.”
“Okay. Shit, that’s right. Good luck on the first day!”
She smiled to herself as she hung up. He’d wished her the same the night before, but she recognized the triplet-fried brain that he had. Because she’d had it the entire previous week.
Jill saw her next patient, a five-year-old with early tooth decay, and returned to her office more than ready for a break. Yet again, texts from Maxwell filled her screen.
“The kids won’t take their naps!” he wrote, accompanied by a picture of Cameron with a stink face. It made her laugh—but also, she could sense the underlying cry for help.
The texts continued, dotting her workday with updates about recovering lost toys and the exact nature of Kevin’s diaper rash. It made her head spin—not only because this was yanking her attention from her big day at her new practice, but because they were all small fires that Maxwell himself could put out without her help. She hadn’t updated him incessantly throughout the last week when she was on triplet duty—so why was he giving her the play-by-play?
Monday was her long day at the practice, so Jill ate both lunch and dinner in her office. By the time she was ready to head home, it was eight o’clock. But she figured she might as well stop in and see everyone on her way—after so many updates, it seemed like Maxwell needed the check-in.
She figured he would already have the kids bathed and ready for bed by the time she got there, but what greeted her when Maxwell pulled open the front door was not that.
No, he had Shelley in his arms, Kevin crying on the floor behind him, and Cameron was nowhere to be seen.
And the two visible kids were covered in a suspicious brown goo.
“Oh my god. I didn’t think you’d be coming over tonight. Could you hear my cries for help?” he joked as she came inside. She blinked incredulously, trying to figure out what was happening.
“What…what is this…?”
Kevin wiggled his fingers, wanting to be held by her, but she was hesitant to insert herself into this messy business without knowing what it was first.
“Chocolate sauce,” he explained, heading deeper into the house. “It’s not poop. Though we had our fair share of poop explosions today too.”
“Oh my lord.” She scooped Kevin up, and then they found Cameron crawling down the hallway, something white in his hair.
“Oh, Cam.” Maxwell groaned. He bent down to scoop him up, carrying both him and Shelley in his arms at the same time. It was a maneuver that struck Jill as extra hot, though she wished she didn’t notice. “I told you to leave the flour alone.”
In the dining room and kitchen, evidence of chaos was everywhere. The crayons were scattered across the floor, and snack wrappers dotted the dining room table, the floor, the countertops. An applesauce pouch lay on its side, half the contents squirted out onto the floor.
And then there was chocolate sauce. Squirted along the cabinets, across the floor, and part of the fridge. Her eyes got wide as she took it all in.
“What the heck happened here today?” she asked with a laugh.
“You don’t want to know,” Maxwell said. “It’s been the day from hell.”
“Let’s get them straight into the bath,” she suggested. “That way, they can lie down and sleep—and then we’ll tackle this.”
Maxwell nodded, drawing a deep breath. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”
“I think it’s better I did. This sort of chaos is better solved by two.”
“But it’s your workday,” Maxwell said, the strain of his biceps snagging Jill’s attention. He’d been holding both kids in his arms and showed no sign of needing to put one down. Damn if it didn’t make her a little hot under the collar. “I should have been able to handle everything.”
“Kids have their insane days,” Jill reassured him. “They might be going through a growth spurt or something. Or maybe it’s a full moon.”
Maxwell snorted as he headed for the staircase. Jill followed, hoisting Kevin in her arms before following him up the carpeted wooden steps. “Is that a thing?”
“Oh, yes. We see it in the office like clockwork. Everyone gets a little wild come the full moon. Especially the kids.”
“I can’t tell if you’re lying just to make me feel better.” Maxwell groaned. His honesty made her smile—there was something incredibly sweet—and sexy—about his attempts to do this new parenting thing right.
“I’m not,” she teased as they all filed down the wide hallway upstairs, headed for the big guest bathroom that had officially become the triplet’s bathroom. “At least not this time.”