I waddled through the kitchen and towards the stair, halfway up, someone rang the doorbell, "who is it?"

"It's Paul's mom Carla." The woman's voice answered, "you must be Stephanie, I'm Carla, or if you want, call me Mrs. Levesque. How are you?" She stared at my belly.

"Fat. And hungry, but we have nothing to eat." I smiled, "come in, Paul is asleep upstairs with Mikey, they're just taking their naps."

"And then Gracie is at school." She nodded, "you've definitely made this place, more feminine." She looked around approvingly.

"Hey mom." Paul sleepily stumbled down the stairs, "how was the plane ride?" He pretendedly smiled down at my stomach.

"Ugh." I put my hand over my stomach, four months, the baby sure is a kicker." I slowly made my way to the couch, "I have to relax here for a little bit."

Mikey screamed from upstairs, "Steph, I'm hungry, can you go and get him?" Paul yelled from the kitchen.

"Paul, I cannot climb those stairs." I yelled back to the kitchen, "I deal with him enough don't you think?"

"Fine, goddamnit." He ran up the stairs and Mikey quieted, "hey little guy."

"Does that happen often?" Carla asked, exiting the bathroom, "he knows you're pregnant, and he should know that kind of stuff is hard for you to do."

"Ah, oww, Stephanie! Help me!" Paul screamed, "Steph, come here please!"

I got up and ran as fast as I could carry myself, "are you alright?" I got in the room and laughed. Mikey had both of his hands clenched in his father's blonde hair, "Michael, honey, let go of daddy." I picked him up, "sorry Paul, he likes to pull hair."

"The day he doesn't cry when I puck him up, he pulls a handful of hair out. I actually thought he was starting to like me."

"Baddy." Mikey yelled, pointed at Paul, who looked at me and gulped, "mommy and baddy."

Carla was behind me, with wide eyes, "what is he saying, baddy, what the hell does that mean?"

"I think he's trying to say daddy." I reassured her, "you know little kids, they can't pronounce things right."

Mikey pulled at my hair too, "well, alright, let me see my favorite little grandson!" Carla took him from my arms and coddled him.

"Mom, he's you only grandson. How is he your favorite?" Paul stuttered, glancing nervously at me every few seconds.

"Shut up." Carla sneered, "he can be my favorite, only grandson." She took him towards the staircase.

"Did you pick between Joe and I? Who was your favorite son? Jesus goddamn Christ." He followed us down the stairs and into the living room.

"Paul, go away." Carla then turned to me, looking at Paul, "Stephanie, you are getting enough rest, right?"

I glanced at Paul, "oh, yeah, I get plenty of rest. Sometimes."

"Well doesn't he help out?" She sat on the couch and played with Mikey on her lap, "Paul, why don;t you help her out?"

"I usually can't. I have football, remember, I'm been playing for what, like, nine years!" He sat next to me with an apple and a banana.

"You don't help me anyway, You clean this house of food and complain. That's it." I pushed the banana down his throat as he attempted to take a bite.

Carla was here for a few days and as I was brushing my teeth one night, she came into the master bathroom and stood in the doorway, watching me intently, "Steph, can I talk to you?"

"I guess so. Yeah." I spit toothpaste out and continued brushing , "is everything okay?"

"Does Paul hurt you, in any way?" She quickly questioned. I stared down the sink, "Steph, does he?"

I nodded, and she shut the door, "I'm not going to say anything, he'll hurt me again. But I guess I can nod, that's not telling."

"That's perfectly fine. How does he hurt you? Does he hit you? Like, beat you up?"

I shook my head vigorously, "does slapping like a girl count?" I asked, quietly.

"So, he slaps you." She closed her eyes angrily, "does he do anything else?" I hesitantly nodded, "okay, I can tell you're holding back, what else does he do to you?"

"I can't say it Mr. Levesque. I can't say it." I whispered, "trust me, you'd rather not..."

"Rape? Does he, rape, you? Or have sex with you unconsentually?" She asked, her eyes still closed, "please tell me, you're shaking..."

I was nodded, on the verge of tears, "but I didn't say anything. It's how we got Mikey, and...this one, I mean, these two."

"Two? You're having twins?" She glanced at my stomach, "no wonder you're so big. I didn't believe you when you said you were only four months."

I've been afraid of him for eight months. I got him to stop once by showing him my tunny two months ago. That was it." I opened the door, "I need to get some sleep. Goodnight." I watched as she smiled and walked out the bedroom door.