Glass Shard Beach: 1950. A hospital waiting room.
Filbrick Pines sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, tapping his foot against the shiny, white linoleum floor impatiently. He glanced at his watch for the sixth time in ten minutes, saw it was 11:39, and sighed irritably, mustache bristling slightly. He'd been in the hospital for five and a half more hours than he would have liked, and it was really starting to get on his nerves.
How long did it take to have a baby, anyway?
His wife had gone into labor at about 5:30 that afternoon, announcing the sudden development by dropping the phone and letting out a loud curse. It had been about time, really; the little bastard had kept them waiting a week longer than he was supposed to. And Filbrick Pines hated waiting.
He hated anything non-productive. After all, time was money, and money was what motivated the world to keep spinning on its axis.
He looked up expectantly (though it was hard to tell through the sunglasses) as a young, sunny woman in a nurse's cap bounded into the room, grinning. She was the same nurse that had tried to convince him to stay with his wife while she gave birth.
"Sir, don't you want to see your baby enter the world? Don't you want to be one of the first things he or she sees?"
"Will the baby still get born if I'm not here to watch it happen?"
"W-Well, yes, but—"
"Then no thanks. I'll be in the waiting room."
Despite his brush-off of her earlier, the nurse couldn't look happier.
"Sir, I am very excited to announce that you are officially a father!"
"Finally. I was wondering if the damn thing was stuck."
The nurse's smile faltered.
"Ha. Uh, sir, we don't really appreciate that sort of language—"
"You were saying? 'Bout me being a father?"
She grinned again.
"Sir, you are now the lucky father of two beautiful baby girls! Oh, you should come and see them, they're both so precious, and—"
"Wait." His tone was dark, commanding. The nurse shrunk in on herself a little. "First off: there's two of 'em?"
"Uh, w-why yes, sir, they're twins. Identical twins. And they're beautiful, both of them, absolutely—"
"Second: They're girls?"
"Why, yes, sir. Two adorable, wonderful little—"
"Damn it all…" Filbrick Pines muttered, pulling a cigar from his pocket.
"Sir, you should be happy, they're both healthy and—"
He shot her a look that shut her up immediately; even through the sunglasses, she knew to be intimidated.
"What did I do to get cursed with a daughter? Not just one, but two!" He lit the cigar. "Here I was, thinkin' I'd get a boy to carry the family legacy, and what do I get? Two good for nothin' girls…"
The nurse cleared her throat nervously. "Um…sir? Do you…do you want to see your babies?"
Filbrick took a long drag from the cigar and puffed it out quickly, efficiently. "I'll be lookin' at 'em for at least eighteen more years. I got time to see 'em."
The previously sunny nurse, mouth slightly open in horrified awe, turned and left the room without another word.
Filbrick Pines sat there, smoking his cigar, staring out the window into darkness of night. He was stuck with two girls for eighteen more years. He would have to wait for eighteen years.
And Filbrick Pines hated waiting.