Page 105 of Beautiful Life

“Baby?” I ask. Needing to make sure, I reiterate, “You’re sure there’s only one?”

I hear Leigh giggle as the smiling sonographer assures me, “Yes, there’s only one this time.”

“You knew there was only one, Tony. We heard two heartbeats from the beginning last time.”

I look to my wife. “Just making sure.”

“You want to find out the sex?” the sonographer asks.

I look down at Leigh, raising my eyebrows in question. She smiles small and nods back up to me.

“Yeah, we want to know,” I answer.

She moves the wand and jelly around Leigh’s belly again, pushes more buttons on the keyboard and finally settles on one spot, clicking more buttons making the screen come to a standstill.

“There,” she says pointing at the screen. “Surely you two recognize that.”

I huff one single chuckle and look down at Leigh. She’s grinning and I ask her, “Are you disappointed?”

“He’s healthy. How could I be disappointed? And I get to spend my life surrounded by Carpino men. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I lean down to kiss her and say against her lips, “Another boy.”

“Another boy,” she agrees happily. However, she instantly raises her eyebrows and with a serious face warns, “But if they ever get married on the sly, there’ll be hell to pay and you’ll be the one paying it.”

I grin down at my wife.

*****

Leigh

I watch the boys play in the backyard with Finny from the deck. They start to climb the rock wall of their new playset they got for their second birthday a couple months ago. This makes me cringe because I know they’re going to get hurt. I wanted to wait one more year to get it, but Tony insisted they should have it now. He said they’d be more than ready for it before they were three, but we’ve already had plenty of scraped knees and bruises, thus the reason for making me cringe. I bandage them up, cover them in kisses, and send them back on their way, praying they don’t break a bone. They’re all boy, just like their dad, and nothing slows them down.

Our twins. Tony was on a mission to get me pregnant back in the beginning and he sure did a bang-up job of it. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.

With their dark hair, almost black eyes and, despite coming six weeks early, they’ve grown big and strong. But their personalities couldn’t be more different. Jack, who is seven minutes older than Gabe, is the definite leader. Gabe is quieter, more observant in most situations, but keeps up with his big brother without a problem when it’s just the two of them.

They jump off the rock wall, making me cringe. Running around to the swings, they dive head first onto their tummies with their arms and legs flailing. Finny is running around them barking, not knowing which boy to run after since they keep coming back and forth. Finny loves his boys and they wear him out, but he’s still my dog through and through.

I hear the deck door slide open and without looking, I greet my husband. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey.” When I look up at Tony, he’s lost the suit jacket, tie, and his sleeves are already rolled with his top two buttons unbuttoned. Oh, and his over longish hair is rumpled like he’s been running his hand through it again. As hot as my husband is in a suit, I prefer him this way. Home from work, relaxed and half-rumpled, ready to spend time with us.

He smiles down at me. “Sit up.”

I sit up and scooch forward enough for him to straddle the lounge in back of me. He doesn’t pull me back but starts to rub my lower back and makes a suggestion that I know is more like a plea, “Since you’re halfway, you should reduce your shifts at the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

During my pregnancy with the twins, I had a lot of swelling and finally had to go on bed rest for the last month. Tony blames it on me being on my feet too much with my job, but I know it would have happened anyway. So far, this pregnancy has been easy and I don’t see that happening again.

“It is official, Tony. We’re not having twins. I’m fine to work and I’m down to two shifts every other week. How much more can I cut it down?”

“How about one shift every other week?” he strongly suggests.

I smirk and turn slightly, not wanting to disrupt my backrub because I love his hands on me. “Sorry. Not gonna happen.”

He sighs and finally pulls my back to his front and his big hands come around to cup our baby. We sit here for many long peaceful moments watching the boys play, who have yet to see their dad home, otherwise the moments wouldn’t be so peaceful. But I love every minute of it—our busy family and constant noise in our home. It will be busier in a few months when our third little guy arrives, but he’ll only complete the picture, making it even more perfect.

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