"Mummy, can I go play outside?"
Sophia's face was pressed against a window in the living room, voice excited as she watched snowflakes flutter down from the sky, her tiny frame bouncing up and down while her breath fogged up the window.
Mary sat on the sofa, feet up to keep them from swelling further, as recommended by the doctor. The sixth month of this pregnancy was slightly more trying than the first had been, for multiple reasons, a three year old being one of them.
The fact that she carried twins was the other.
"No, darling, it's too cold. Daddy will be home from the store soon, he'll play with you inside."
Mary was very firm at the last word. She could already feel a tantrum coming on as a high-pitched whine issued from Sophia.
"But Mummy," Sophia complained, turning from the window, tears welling up in her brown eyes. "I want to go outside."
"Sophie, you have plenty to do in here," Mary said, shifting so she looked less like a beached whale and more like an authority figure. "Wait for your father."
"Do you think Daddy will let me play outside?"
"Darling, it's very cold out," Mary repeated, exhausted as Sophia whined again. Her morning sickness had woken her early that day, as though it didn't appreciate the fact that she needed all the rest she could get before the twins came.
"Mum-my," Sophia wailed, an all-out tantrum coming on that Mary was in no way prepared for.
Mary started to get up, a difficult feat considering the size of her stomach and the heaviness of her ankles, but the front door flew open, as Matthew entered with a few paper bags. She remained seated, perched on the end of the cushion, hand resting on her large stomach.
"It's a cold one out there," he said, setting the bags on the floor in the hall before poking his head into the living room. "How are my girls?"
"Daddy! I want to play outside!" Sophia fussed at him, running into the hall as Matthew took off his coat and boots. "Your hair's got snow in it," the little girl observed. "No, Daddy!" Sophia squealed, and Mary watched as Matthew came into view, scooping their daughter off the floor as he shook his snow-covered hair onto her.
"I don't think you'll be going out in that, Soph," Mathew said, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. "It's nearly knee deep for you and getting higher, love."
"But Daddy-" Sophia began, but Matthew spun her in a circle and Sophia broke into a fit of giggles.
"How about you help me make some cocoa?" Matthew asked after setting Sophia back on her feet.
"With marshmallows?" Sophia asked, excited.
"Go look in the grocery bag," Matthew told her and the three-year-old cheered before hurrying out into the hall.
Matthew smiled at Mary as he finally turned to her.
"Hello, my love," he said, taking a seat beside her on the sofa. Mary relaxed against her pillows again.
"Did you get everything on the list?" she asked as Matthew pressed a kiss against her cheek while she stroked his hair.
"Quite a strange list you gave me," he said, fetching a blanket and laying it over Mary's legs. "Sauerkraut, bacon, banana peppers, papaya, white chocolate, and lamb."
"It's the babies," Mary said, hand on her overlarge stomach again. "They don't like what I normally eat."
Matthew covered her fingers with his palm. "Whatever you need, I'll supply. But hopefully their tastes don't change for a few days. We're about to be snowed in and I'm only walking down to Sainsbury's if it's an absolute must," he insisted, brushing his thumb across her belly. "I stocked up on everything else I thought we might be low on, which wasn't much since you were just at the store last weekend."
"Daddy! Daddy, I found the marshmallows!" Sophia said with enthusiasm, running into the room with the big bag of fluffy white sugar puffs.
"Find the cocoa, Soph," Matthew insisted.
"You better put that lamb and bacon away before it turns," Mary reminded him.
"As you command, my lady," Matthew agreed, pressing a kiss to Mary's forehead.
"The cocoa!" Sophia said, to the room with the canister of Cadbury's best.
"Help me put the groceries away and then we'll warm up the milk, eh?" Matthew asked, standing and herding Sophia out of the hall and to the kitchen.
Mary remained on the sofa, her feet propped up as she listened to the ambiance created by her loving husband and daughter as they put away food and started in on the hot cocoa.
"Soph, here stand up here and stir, sweetie," Matthew said. The sounds of a kitchen chair against the floor indicated Sophia was stirring the milk on the stove.
"Be careful in there," Mary called to them.
"We are, Mummy," Sophia said. "Daddy bought biscuits that we can eat with our cocoa!"
"Mm, I don't think that was on the list," Mary replied and Matthew poked his head around the corner.
"They go better with the cocoa than sauerkraut or lamb," he said. Mary stuck out her tongue in response before he disappeared back into the kitchen.
Mary tried to ignore the clattering in the other room, reaching for a magazine but unable to due to the distracting noises.
"Oops!" Sophia said, giggling as Matthew hushed her.
"What's going on?" Mary asked, almost tempted to get up from her resting place on the sofa.
"Nothing, nothing," Matthew said, "just a little spill with the cocoa. Nothing to worry you with, love."
Mary was not reassured.
"Soph, take the biscuits into Mummy, alright?" she heard Matthew say. "I'll be right in."
"Okay, Daddy," Sophia said, appearing a few moments later with a plate of shortbread biscuits. "These are for you, Mummy," the little girl said, setting the biscuits on the coffee table.
"Come sit up here with me, sweetie," Mary said, holding out her arms for Sophia who quickly climbed up beside Mary and snuggled into her side. Mary tucked a corner of the blanket over Sophia.
"Hot cocoa, anyone?" Matthew asked, entering the living room with a tray holding three mugs of steaming cocoa.
"How sweet you both are," Mary said, not really craving sweet things, but appreciating their thoughtfulness. She pressed a kiss into Sophia's hair as Matthew too set the cocoa down before seating himself on Mary's other side.
"Look at all the pretty snow, Soph," he said, draping his arm around Mary's shoulders.
"Can we play outside tomorrow, Daddy?" Sophia asked, clearly too warm and comfortable under the blanket to put up a fight about it any longer.
"As long as I can clear enough space for you, squirt," he replied picking up a mug and taking a sip before setting it aside. "Still a little warm."
Mary turned slightly to get a better look at him. "Thank you for taking such good care of me," she murmured as Sophia continued to be enthralled by the snow.
"Anything for you, darling," he said, leaning his forehead down to rest on hers. He kissed the end of her nose and Mary smiled.
"Well, I love you for it," Mary told him, taking his hand before turning away and relaxing against his shoulder.
"Is that the only reason?" Matthew questioned, his cheek resting on the top of her head.
"You know there are others," she retorted, slightly incredulous that he even had to ask.
"Maybe you could list them for me later," he suggested, his tone cheeky as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
She laughed, her thoughts dancing.
"Perhaps I won't need to say anything at all," she whispered and Matthew growled softly in her ear before kissing her hair.
"Cocoa, my love?" he asked, leaning forward for her mug.
Mary laughed, taking the cup from his hand.
"I want a sip," Sophia said, looking away from the front window in order to take a drink of the cocoa.
Mary slowly tilted the cup, with Sophia pulling back after a moment in order to give her mother a rather sticky, chocolatey kiss on the cheek before returning to gazing out at the snow.
"Tomorrow we should build a snowlady," the little girl suggested, to the chuckles of her parents. "And a snow dog since I'm not allowed a real one."
"Maybe when you're older," Mary said, hoping she'd never have to make good on that half-promise.
"Or a kitten," Sophia suggested, snuggling into Mary's side and laying her head on her mother's stomach. "They're so cute."
Mary looked at Matthew, who raised his eyebrows hopefully. She rolled her eyes, willing to argue against that addition another day.