At long last, after a nearly twelve-hour workday, Iris makes it back home, amazed at her endurance. This week had proven the extent of her stamina, which had likely improved after carrying twins and subsequently mothering them, but while she had transitioned smoothly back into working full-time once Don and Dawn began pre-school, she hadn't been this swamped in a long while. Today's agenda had included lengthy meetings with several representatives of mainstream news publications regarding potential collaboration with the Central City Citizen. Iris never anticipated that what once started as a simple blog could evolve into an award-winning news source that had large media hubs vying for association, but she wouldn't change a thing, busier workdays and all.
Well, she supposes that isn't entirely true. She would without doubt love more time with her children and with Barry, but considering the partnership she and Barry had skillfully navigated together thus far in parenting their twins and in building their family, she recognizes her blessings: one being her incredibly selfless (and speedy) husband, the other being her bright and (mostly) behaved sweethearts.
Iris smiles as she takes in the polished kitchen that was Barry's doing as well as the picked flowers awkwardly propped into a water glass that was surely the doing of her four-year-olds. Perhaps she's right in that she wouldn't change a thing.
As she climbs the stairs however, she realizes that no level of contentedness is a match for how exhausted she is, and she heads toward the master bedroom wearily, ready to collapse into a much-needed slumber.
Barry sounding from the other end of the hallway however takes her by surprise. If he was in the twins' room at this hour that could only mean they were still awake, despite the clock indicating that it was past their regular bedtime.
Sure enough, she makes out his charged tone as she approaches.
"Come on, Sluggers," Barry instructs. "It's time to go to bed."
"Do we have to?" Iris hears a small voice nag. She chuckles lightly to herself: Dawn always questioned whether anything she was asked to do was necessary.
"Yes, you have to," Barry replies, his own amusement apparent. "How will you have the energy to play tomorrow if you don't sleep now?"
Iris manages a slight peek into the room to see that this question clearly had her daughter stumped. She stifles her laughter at the confused expression her tiny face scrunches into as she ponders the validity of her father's words.
"Can we have five more minutes?"
Now Don chimes in, bouncing on Dawn's bed, always the appeaser with half the cheek of his sister.
From her vantage point, Iris notes Barry breathing inward, ready to issue a veto until-
"You can read us a bedtime story."
Barry's shoulders relax, and Iris can tell he's considering this request.
Not without grasping what exactly his mischievous twosome had in mind though.
"You're hoping to stay up for just a bit longer, aren't you?" he quips. Iris doesn't need to see his face to know he's grinning.
"No," the twins shake their heads simultaneously, trying to suppress their giggles. As much as she missed them and their smiles today, Iris fights the urge to burst into the room and shower them with kisses, knowing they needed to wind down at this hour and that they would resist bedtime even further if they saw her. Besides, she'll shamelessly admit she loves watching Barry father them and confirming what she always knew: whenever she was gone, her babies were in the best hands.
"You think you can trick your old man," Barry jests. "But I used to do the same thing when I was your age and wasn't ready to go to bed yet."
"Did it work?" Dawn asks innocently, the twinkle in her eye and the swing of her short legs off the side of the bed betraying her.
"Sometimes," Barry allows.
"I think it's working now," Don whispers loudly to his twin, who whispers back with the same lack of subtlety.
"Fine," Barry concedes with a chuckle. "Let's read a story."
"Yay!" the twins cheer.
"We should read one of the books we got from the library with Mommy!" Dawn chirps.
"I wanna pick!" Don pouts.
"You always pick!"
Instantly, they transition from allies to enemies, this abrupt shuffling between the two dynamics characteristic of their relationship from their breastfeeding days, such that Iris and Barry had to learn to mediate early on.
Sure enough, Barry steps in: "I'm choosing. It's only fair since you two should be asleep now anyways."
It only takes a few slight groans, and suddenly, once their dad retrieves a book from the shelf, it's as if they had never clashed at all, each of them cuddling on either side of Barry, squeezing onto the same bed, clutching the same oversized pillow, sharing the same blanket, eager to hear the same story. Iris marvels, as always, at the wonder of children.
"What A Treasure, by Jane Hillenbrand," Barry recites.
"I picked this one at the library," Dawn boasts, and Iris muses that maybe kids are just as petty as adults after all.
"Dawny," Barry warns, one corner of his lips quirking upward even in his attempt to reproach her. The sight warms Iris: Barry was too gentle to ever scold them harshly for anything. In fact, his kinder demeanor seemed more effective, because most of the time, the twins themselves could discern that they had made a mistake and would feel remorseful.
Just as Iris expects, Dawn buries a cheek into Barry's shoulder bashfully and mutters an apology. He tousles her hair affectionately before commencing once more:
The day Mole got his new shovel, he started to dig for treasure.
"Good luck," said his father. "Have fun," said his mother. "I bet you won't find any treasure worth keeping," said his brother.
"That's not nice," Don remarks.
"It's not," Barry pauses his reading to agree.
Mole dug. He dug until he found a twig. Bird flew down."Oh, what a treasure!" he chirped.
"A treasure?!" Dawn perplexes. "It's a stick. Sticks are everywhere."
"But look," Barry points to what Iris presumes is an illustration in the book before continuing: "It's just what I need for a sturdy nest."
The twins look thoughtful at that, and Iris beams at their matching expressions. Their resemblance as twins was so conspicuous in this moment, as was especially their similarity to Barry as they sandwiched him, the attention of all three of them fully focused on the same thing.
"Why don't you keep it?" said Mole. And he began to dig some more.
Mole dug and dug. He dug until he found a shell. Snail crept over. "Oh, what a treasure!" she exclaimed. "It's just what I need for a cozy house."
"Why don't you keep it?" said Mole. And he began to dig some more.
Mole dug and dug and dug. He dug until he found an acorn. Squirrel scampered near her.
"Oh, what a treasure!" he chattered. "It's just what I need for a delicious dinner."
"Why don't you keep it?" said Mole and he began to dig some more.
Mole dug and dug and dug and dug. He dug until he found another hole."Oh, what a treasure!" he shouted as up popped a little mole. "You're just what I need and want: a friend."
"What luck!" said his father. "How fun," said his mother. "I'll bet you're wanting to keep this treasure," said his brother.
"Of course. Why not?" asked Mole.
"Of course," answered Mole's new friend.
And Mole and his friend began to dig some more.
"The End," Barry declares, closing the book, glancing over at each twin to gauge their reactions.
"I like the pictures," Dawn proclaims, climbing over Barry to better reach the book to flip through its pages again.
"He didn't find any treasure," Don blinks.
"But he did," Barry insists, grinning widely, and Iris rolls her eyes fondly, knowing that Barry of all fathers was ecstatic for the opportunity to present a life lesson.
"There's a famous saying, 'One man's trash is another man's treasure'," he starts.
"Huh?" the twins puzzle. Iris hangs her head at her husband's tendency to forget he was addressing children under five.
"A twig, shell, or acorn might not seem like a treasure to you, but they are to a bird, snail and squirrel," Barry clarifies, and Iris nods to herself, proud of him for this simplification. "Mole went digging for treasure and all he seemed to find were gifts that all the other animals around him would like, until he finds the best treasure of all: another mole friend to share the fun of digging."
"That's his treasure?" Dawn questions, intrigued.
"A treasure means something different to everyone," Barry explains patiently. "It just has to be special to you." Barry taps Dawn on the nose teasingly.
"Like my toys!" Don shouts, evidently excited at finally having grasped the story's message.
"And my bike," Dawn adds.
"And the cookie jar!"
"And Mommy's iPad!"
Iris sighs with exasperated endearment at that, but with endearment nonetheless.
"What's your treasure, Daddy?" Don poses.
"You guys are my treasure," Barry answers with soft reverence, the glimmer in his eyes as he looks upon his children visible even from where Iris stands, and her heart swells so tremendously that she feels it might burst.
"What?!" the twins exclaim, positively shrieking with laughter at this prospect.
"Daddy, that's weird," Dawn states flatly once she's calmed down, Don nodding along.
Barry only brings his arms around the both of them to hold them closer to him.
"It's true," he affirms simply with a shrug, seemingly accepting that they still have a ways to go before understanding what he means, but stroking each of their cheeks anyway, the tenderness still plain in his gaze as he looks at them.
It only lessens slightly as he straightens up again: "Alright, you two, we read a story. Now it's really time for bed."
"Awww," Dawn grumbles.
"Ok-ay," Don gives in.
He slides off his sister's mattress and hops to the opposite end of the room where his bed is situated against the wall. Barry tucks Dawn in first and plants a kiss on her forehead before moving to do the same with Don.
"Goodnight, Kiddos," Barry announces, making his way to switch off the overhead lamp and turn on their nightlight. "I love you."
"Goodnight, Daddy," Dawn replies the same time Don responds, "Love you, too."
Iris waits in the hallway quietly while Barry shuts the twins' door so that it remains only slightly open. Once he's safely out of earshot of their room she emerges to wrap her arms around him from behind.
"Hey," Barry marvels, his voice slightly hushed, taken aback by her sudden appearance, twisting in her grip so that he faces her and squeezes her back. "I didn't think you were home yet."
Iris glances up at him, resting her chin atop his heartbeat.
"You're my treasure, you know that?" she murmurs, clutching him more tightly.
His beaming in response is instant as he recognizes that she's been home all along, and he slides an arm down her back to tug her close to him while they head to their bedroom together. Yup, Iris thinks to herself as she leans her head against her husband's shoulder, upholding what she always believed. I wouldn't change a thing.
Disclaimer: This story contains text from the children's book "What A Treasure!" by Jane Hillenbrand. The part in italics is NOT my original work.