Stalking His Assassin

two

CHRISTOS—SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Today is the day we meet our babies.

That’s right, babies, plural. Turns out we’re those lucky people who end up with multiples when doing IVF treatment. Not that we aren’t thrilled. We’re not having just one baby, but three. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little panicky over it. Being a new father to one baby seemed like a lot… three feels insurmountable.

While I quietly freaked out over having triplets, Grace was calm and collected. She saw those three little beans and heard the three little heartbeats and that was that. When the doctor left the room, she burst into happy tears, and there wasn’t any room for freaking out. Not when my wife was so damn happy.

A knock on the door announces yet another person coming to check on Grace and the babies. It feels like there has been a constant stream of nurses and doctors since we got here an hour ago. This time, when the door opens, I can relax because it’s just Harper.

“Hey, momma. How are you doing?” she asks before hugging Grace.

“I’m good. Just got the epidural a few minutes ago, and it’s lovely. All the back pain and pressure is gone. I feel like I could sleep comfortably for a week.”

Harper chuckles. “Don’t think that’s going to happen, babe. My nieces and nephew are about to make their great debut, and sleep will be a long-lost friend you think of fondly between dirty diapers and bottles.”

Grace’s happy smile is damn near blinding. “I can’t wait.”

There’s another knock before the doctor walks in. “Are we ready to have a few babies?”

“Absolutely, Doc,” Grace says, still smiling.

Harper kisses Grace’s cheek. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

“See you soon, Auntie Harper,” Grace singsongs.

The c-section doesn’t take long. It’s crazy how one minute having a baby is just an idea, and in the next, I have a screaming little girl in my arms. Each baby is checked over by a neonatal doctor before they are cleaned up by a nurse. I watch as each one is declared healthy and well. It’s nearly unheard of for triplets to not have some complications upon birth.

“Everyone looks good. Baby C is a little on the small side but still within the range we like to see. I have no doubt she’ll catch up with her brother and sister in no time now that she’s not fighting for space.”

“Thank you, Dr. Robertson.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be by later today to check on the triplets again. If you need anything, have one of the nurses call me.”

One of the nurses helps Grace hold our son while I’m holding Baby C, who looks impossibly tiny in my big arms. I carry her over to Grace so she can meet her second daughter. Grace hasn’t lost her smile once since she heard our first daughter cry.

“Look how beautiful she is,” Grace coos. “They’re all so beautiful.”

“They’re perfect, love.”

Getting Grace and the babies into a room in the maternity ward takes over two hours. A lactation specialist just left after helping Grace figure out how to nurse two babies at once. She repeatedly expressed how important it was to not get overwhelmed and stay relaxed while breastfeeding. It was unnecessary because Grace looks like she’s done this a hundred times already. Both babies are tucked in like little footballs as they suckle.

“How’s our boy?”

I look up from his sweet face and see my wife smiling at me, even though I can see how tired she is. “He’s hungry.”

“Apparently, being born is hungry work.”

A quiet knock on the door announces Harper’s arrival. She comes in carrying three stuffed cats, each with a pink or blue balloon attached and a gift bag.

“Is there room for one more?” she asks.

“Come meet your nieces and nephew, Auntie Harper,” Grace answers.

Harper lets out a quiet squeal of excitement. She comes to me first and coos over how handsome our little boy is, then turns to Grace. “Oh, my goodness, Grace. They are so precious.”

“They really are. Would you like to hold one? Baby A needs to be burped.”

Harper doesn’t hesitate to do so. She cuddles the baby to her like a professional, even though I know she’s never been around a baby in her life. She rubs gentle circles over her back, then lightly pats her until the baby lets out a little burp. She sees me staring at her in awe at how naturally she did that.

“What? I watched about fifty videos online on how to take care of babies. I’m going to be the best damn auntie ever.”

“They are very lucky to have you, Harp. I’m so glad our babies will grow up surrounded by love,” Grace says.

“So much love. Now, tell me their names. This Baby A, Baby B, and Baby C business stops now.”

Grace smirks because Harper is only sort of right. “Well, Baby A is Amelie, Baby B is Bastian, and Baby C is Carlie.”

“Those names are perfect, even if it’s a little lame that you kept the whole A, B, C thing.”

Grace lets out a huge yawn, and even though she’s still smiling, she’s exhausted. Harper notices, too, and takes her leave. I settle the babies in their shared crib to sleep. Grace has scooted to the edge of the bed to make room for me.

“The nurses won’t like me in bed with you.”

“Don’t care. I want to cuddle.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she insists.

“If anything hurts, tell me.”

“Just get over here. I’m tired.”

I carefully lay beside her and thread my fingers through hers because there’s no way to hold her without hurting her incision site.

“I love you, Christos.”

“I love you too, little wolf.”

THE END AGAIN