The Long and Winding Road (The Seafare Chronicles 4)

Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, that was just a joke. I’m not going to keep them. I swear! These twins are yours. I’m just an incubator.”

“Twins,” Otter says faintly.

“I have powerful sperm,” I announce to no one in particular. “Super sperm. I am so damn fertile. Why did I never know that about myself?”

“Okay,” Megan says slowly. “Let’s move this inside. I wasn’t kidding about the boob sweat.” And with that, she shoves her way between us, both of us recoiling with a hiss as we accidentally brush against her stomach. “Oh boy. This is going to be hysterical. I wish I hadn’t left my phone in the car so I could record this.”

Otter shuts the door, and we both trail after her as she starts prodding and poking at everything she can get her hands on.

I try to remember my manners. “Can I take your coat?” I ask.

“She’s not wearing a coat,” Otter whispers fiercely. “It’s summer.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to say! It was either that or offer her salmon, because I read it’s good for pregnant women, but we don’t have any salmon. And whose fault is that, hmm? Oh, I don’t know, maybe yours? You were just at the store yesterday. You couldn’t have picked some up to prepare for situations just like this?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to buy salmon! You made the damn shopping list for this party, not me! And who the hell prepares for situations like this? Name one other person you know who has gotten a phone call that their unborn child has magically turned into two unborn children.”

“Jesus, Otter, it’s not magical. It’s science. Even I know that.”

“It was a figure of speech!”

“Magical babies is a figure of speech? That doesn’t even make sense. Who do you think you are? Me? Because I would have gotten the salmon!”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Megan says easily. “The smell of fish is not doing anything for me right now. Believe me, you don’t want to see projectile vomiting. It’s… disgustingly athletic. And I’m mostly past the morning sickness, so I’d like to keep it that way. I wouldn’t say no to some yogurt right now. Maybe some walnuts, if you have them. And what party are you having? I like balloons. You guys have a lot of balloons.” She squints adorably up at the banner stretched out across the living room. “Welcome Home, Tyson! Oh! That’s right. He’s coming home today. Oh shoot. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just thought—”

I hadn’t even seen Otter disappear, but suddenly he’s standing next to me with a handful of walnuts and a container of Greek yogurt. “Here,” he says dumbly, thrusting them out at her.

She cocks her head at him. “Thank you.” She holds out her hand and doesn’t even flinch when he drops the walnuts onto it, some of them sticking to Otter’s palm. She takes the yogurt from him with her other hand and frowns down at it. “No spoon?”

“You forgot the spoon?” I ask, horrified. “How dare you! She is giving us two magical babies and you can’t even get her a spoon!”

Otter pales again. “I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot the spoon. We’re having twins, and I just grabbed nuts and yogurt and didn’t even bring a spoon. I’m going to be a terrible father.”

“Okay,” Megan says. “It’s fine. I have fingers. And a handful of walnuts. This is good for now. Why don’t we all just take a seat? My ankles are sore, and that couch looks comfortable.”

“I can rub your ankles!” I say. “Like, massage them and stuff. I learned how!”

“On the internet,” Otter tells her. “He looked it up on the internet. He’s learning how to use it.”

“You two are so cute,” she says with a grunt as she sinks down on the couch.

We trail after her helplessly. Once she’s seated, we stand above her. She sighs and nods toward the other couch. “Sit. Hovering isn’t going to help.”

We sit immediately on either side of her, crowding in as close as we can.

She sighs. “Other couch, guys. Boob sweat.”

We scramble to the other couch, and I feel a savage satisfaction as Otter trips on the rug. Serves him right for knocking me into the wall when going for the door earlier, the bastard.

We stare at her as we sit down.

She daintily dips her finger into the yogurt and then into her mouth before she groans. “God, that’s so good. Like, so good. It’s weird, you know? I hate yogurt, except for when I’m pregnant. Babies make your body do the strangest things.”

“Babies,” Otter says weakly.

“As in plural,” I whisper.

“Plural,” she agrees, munching on a walnut. “This didn’t happen the first pregnancy. That would have been hysterical, though. That couple was a little more… high-strung, than the two of you.”