Quadruplets Make Six

“I told her she needed to get help. I hired a nanny to help with the kids, but she took it as an invitation to keep drinking. We had fight after fight about it, and the kids were paying the price for it. I rescinded the engagement because I told her I wasn’t marrying the person she had turned into and she accused me of trying to manipulate her into something she wasn’t. She stormed out and I changed the locks on the house, then took her to court for custody of the kids. She hardly even fought me.”

“You mentioned something about a restraining order at lunch that day. Why do you have that against her?”

“A few days after the judge awarded me custody of the kids, she broke into the house and tried to take our sons. She was beyond intoxicated and stumbling around everywhere. She really hurt herself and it ended with three traumatized kids and a trip to the hospital. I had my lawyer take one out on her before she left the hospital four days later.”

I felt the bed shift and I looked up from my hands. Libby was sitting beside me on the bed, her hand rubbing my back. Here was this woman, whose heart I had hurt so much it made her sick, and she was consoling me. I was here to answer her questions, yet she was the one pouring her heart out for me.

It was unimaginable, the patience Libby had.

“I’ve moved three separate times with the kids, and every time we move she finds us and it’s horrible for everyone. That’s why I don’t tell anyone about them. I’m paranoid that I’ll tell someone about them and they’ll, you know… know her or something.”

“I get it,” Libby said. “You’re protecting your children. I can’t fault you for that. If anything, I think you’re a greater man for it.”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you for the past couple of weeks. I came home to both of my boys having the flu, and they just started getting better.”

“My god, Graham. I mean, I get why you don’t tell people about them, but I would’ve understood.”

“I know, I know. It’s just, there are many reasons I keep them separated from other aspects of my life. Their mother is one, but I also don’t want a revolving door of women walking in and out of the house. They’ve been through enough and they need stability. My three kids need stability.”

I felt Libby tense as her hand fell from my back.

“Libby?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Your three kids,” she said.

“Yeah. My daughter and my two sons,” I said.

“Would you… be willing to change that statement to ‘your four kids’?” she asked.

My eyes connected with Libby’s as the blood drained from my heart. Four kids? Was this… was Libby pregnant?

“Four kids,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“You’re… you’re pregnant.”

“Yes,” she said with a whisper.

“That’s why you came to the house.”

“It is,” she said.

“How did you know where I lived?” I asked.

“I um… I was in the cafe across town when you… when you walked in.”

“Coffee Cupz?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you approach me then?”

“Honestly? I didn’t think you’d talk to me. So, I… got in my car and followed you.”

I watched a tear drip down Libby’s cheek. She was shaking, and I didn’t want her feeling this way any longer. She was the kindest, freest, most incredible woman I had ever met. She was timid and soft spoken, and her light-hearted nature touched a part of me only my kids had touched. I cupped my hand against her cheek as her tears died on my skin, and when she nuzzled into my touch I felt my heart explode with happiness.

This beautiful, soft, intelligent, soft-spoken woman was carrying my child.