The strong winds rustled the leaves and branches on the oak tree outside of Number 7 Manchester Road. Mr. And Mrs. Evans were sitting in the small kitchen inside their petite yet lovely home. The walls were stone, the roof was thatched, and the chimney was of red brick. Mr. Evans had lit a fire in the wood stove just that morning, and now he and his wife were enjoying the warmth it gave off. Looking up at the clock on the mantel, Mr. Evans softly exclaimed "Oh my! I'm late for work. I'll be home at three dear. Call me if you need anything." Mrs Evans kissed her husband on the cheek, then heard the door click as he shut it behind him. Well, she thought, there is still work to be done before the baby arrives.
For you see, Mrs. Evans was pregnant. She was due to have a child any day now. She set about fussing over the state of the sitting room, making sure everything would be just so when her family came to see the new baby. She swept, she dusted, she vacuumed, and she polished all the silver. When she could find nothing more to fix, she absentmindedly wandered into the soon-to-be nursery and began rearranging the closet for what must have been the hundredth time. Suddenly, she felt very ill and decided to call a doctor. She picked up the phone and dialed the number lethargically, almost as though in slow motion. It rang once, twice, three times. On the fourth ring, the doctor picked up.
"Hello?" said a voice on the other end.
"Oh, thank goodness! Doctor Davison! I suddenly feel very achey and dizzy."
"Alright," said Dr. Davison, "Lie down." Mrs. Evans did. She called Mr. Evans at work, and her promised to come rushing home.
At half past eleven, the heard a knock on her bedroom door.
"Come in" she said. It was Dr. Davison. He was a portly man, with wide blue eyes, a light gray combover, and a bushy mustache. When he spoke, he spoke as though he was speaking to a small child, slowly and calmly. Within 5 minutes, Mr. Evans burst and and panted
"Is it time?" The doctor seemed to think so.
Within an hour, a baby girl had been delivered. She was pretty, but not exquisitely gorgeous. She had black hair and brown eyes, just like her mother. She was called Petunia. As soon as Petunia was cleaned up and on her mother's chest, Dr. Davison cried "Oh my! Twins!" For a second baby had just popped out of her own accord. She was the most beautiful little girl the doctor had ever seen. She had gorgeous red hair, and deep set emerald green eyes. Without having thought about it, her parents knew she would be called Lily. And so, Mr. And Mrs. Evans and their daughters, Lily and Petunia, lived together in the small cottage, a perfect family.