Quadruplets Make Six

“Didn’t you use mother’s intuition to explain why you thought your child had cancer instead of colic?” I asked.

“Okay, don’t always trust your intuition. But it’s good sometimes.”

I giggled at my friend as I grabbed my water to drink.

“You’re going to be a fabulous mom, Libby.”

“I don’t know about all that,” I said. “But I can tell you I’m ready for the journey.”

“Then brace yourself, because it’s gonna be a doozy.”

Nineteen

Graham

Every time I saw her my heart filled with joy. Libby had just hit her six-month mark, and she looked fabulous. Officially into her third trimester with the most incredible baby bump, I loved taking care of her. She was still insistent on staying in her apartment even though I was vehemently against it, but she stayed over on the weekends and came over every night for dinner. I was beginning to see how fiercely independent she was despite her quiet demeanor, and there was something incredibly alluring about that. Never once had she ever asked me for money, though I knew she was struggling. She wasn’t tutoring the further along she got in her pregnancy, and I knew it was taking a chunk out of her monthly finances.

So every once in a while, I’d draw cash out of the ATM and stick it in her wallet without her noticing.

Every day was a new experience with her. Lizzie was bouncing off the walls and constantly asking when her newest sibling was coming. She was convinced it was going to be a girl. That she was going to have a younger sister to go along with her two younger brothers. And sometimes, I caught Libby saying ‘she’ instead of ‘it’. Whenever we went for our ultrasounds we tried to figure out the gender, so we would know how to plan things out for a nursery, shower, and clothes. But every time the ultrasound technician went to zoom in on our little one’s body parts, that kid would burrow so far back into Libby’s spine it would bring tears to her eyes.

I didn’t have the heart to let the ultrasound technician press any harder into Libby, so we always stopped the process there.

Whenever I was lucky enough to wake up with her in my arms, I couldn't stop staring at her. The way the light streamed through the windows of my home and bounced off her luscious features was something that set my veins on fire for her. More than once, I’d woken her up with my kisses on her beautiful skin.

I loved mornings like that.

Mornings where the kids slept in and I could have her properly.

But every time I fell asleep without her there, my heart ached. Every time I walked into my home and didn’t see her smiling face waddling around, it chipped at a piece of my heart. I wanted her there. Needed her there. After a long day at work, she was the first person I wanted to call. If we hit a milestone with one of the kids, she was the first person I wanted to celebrate with. She was the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind before I went to bed, and I wasn’t willing to live another second of my life without her.

So, I started planning.

“Where are we going?” Libby asked.

“You’ll see. I thought it would be a nice surprise,” I said.

“Why are the kids with the nanny again? They could’ve come with us. It’s Friday night. We always go out on Friday nights.”

“Don’t worry. I ran it by Lizzie and she said it was just fine,” I said with a grin.

“She’s the one that really runs that house, isn’t she?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

I pulled up into the parking lot of the Stan Mansion and Libby gasped. She whipped her head over at me and I took her hand within mine. Bringing her knuckles to my lips, I kissed every single one of them. She looked beautiful in the dress she had picked out to wear, and I couldn’t wait to get it off her.

But first there was something I had to do.

“Come on. Dinner’s waiting for us,” I said.

“I didn’t know the mansion did dinner service like that,” Libby said.

“They don’t, but I called them up and they made an exception for us. Come on. I think you’re going to like what we’re eating.”

I helped Libby from the car and held her hand as we walked in. There was a line of waitstaff and cooks waiting to greet us as we walked in. I led her to one of the reception rooms and it was dark. The only source of light was a spotlight on a table in the middle of the room.

“Graham? What is all this?” Libby asked.