He enters the nursery, surveying the room. He takes the legal pen out from under his arm, and pulls the ink pen out of his pocket. He hears footsteps smacking against the hardwood floor. He turns towards them. Sarah appears in the doorway, wearing her pajamas. She shoots him a questioning look.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a list," he answers.

"A list of what?"

"What we still need."

"What we still need for what?"

"Before the babies get here."

"You don't have any idea what they need."

"I didn't come up with the list on my own. I had help from a reputable source."

"When did you talk to Harriet?"

"A little while ago."

"Why are you still here? I thought that you went home."

"I did."

"Then why are you here?"

"I came back to make a list," he answers.

"How did you get in?"

"I used a key," he answers.

"What key?"

"The one that you gave me. I am beginning to think that you're getting senile."

She shakes her head, "I just have a lot on my mind."

"I know. Other than some clothes, and a stroller, you really don't have anything for them. Why is that?"

She furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"

"You love shopping for baby things."

"Not as much as you think."

"I've gone shopping with you before. Remember? Whose baby shower did we go to before I left last time?"

"One of the petty officers at JAG."

"Emily," he recalls, "she had a girl."

"It is not as enjoyable as I expected it to be."

"What makes you say that?"

"The sales people ask too many questions."

"What questions?"

"They want to know when I'm due, and what I'm having."

"Don't they need to know in order to help you?"

"I don't want help."

"Oh."

"Then they ask where the father is, and…" she trails off.

"You feel overwhelmed."

"Then I mention that I'm having twins, and they get too excited."

"I will go shopping with you."

"I don't think that is a good idea."

"You don't have much time left," he reminds her.

"I know."

"Do you have bedding for the cribs?"

"No."

"I saw a few blankets, but not that many."

"I know."

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Let's see… I am going to get up, and waddle around in the closet until I can find something to wear. After my jog I'll come back and take a shower. Then, the rest of my day is free. I am retired," she reminds him.

"I'll pick you up at nine."

"I don't think that I have agreed."

"So then you want me to go without you? I can't make any promises about what I bring back for a little girl."

"No, I don't want you to go without me."

"From the sounds of things you don't really want to go."

"I guess that I don't have much of a choice."

May 6th—

She wakes up to the sound of expletives coming from down the hall. She opens her eyes, and looks around. It's not even seven o'clock yet. She rolls out of bed, and makes a beeline for the bathroom. After she empties her bladder she heads down the hallway to the sound of Harm's voice. She enters her son's nursery.

"What is the problem?" She questions.

"I am trying to get this thing to go back together. The instructions are in Chinese," he gripes.

She looks at the stroller, and rolls her eyes.

"May I?"

He nods in frustration. She pushes a single button, and the stroller collapses. He stands beside her, looking at her in disbelief.

"You didn't even look at the directions."

"Let me get this straight, you can assemble a plane, but you can't figure out how to use a stroller?"

"Apparently not," he admits.

"That really inspires confidence."

"So…"

"I'm fine," she insists.

"What time is your appointment?"

"Nine thirty."

"We should start getting ready."

"It is six forty five. I think that we have plenty of time. The doctor's office is only ten minutes away."

"Today is supposed to be the day," he reminds her.

"Today is not the day," she argues.

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"What if she says that…"

"Today is not the day."

"Do you have everything ready if it is?"

"You know that I do. The car seats were installed weeks ago, and my bag is already in the car."

"What about the diaper bags?"

"They are already in the car."

"Are you sure?"

"Harm I put them in the car myself. Why are you being such a basket case?"

"I'm nervous," he admits.

"You're nervous? You don't get to be nervous."

"Why not?"

"I am the one who has to do all of the work."

He grins, "That's why they call it labor."

"Do you think that at any point in the near future you are actually going to sleep at your own house?"

"I doubt that I'll be sleeping at all anytime in the near future."

"You are aware that you have your own house."

"Don't you get lonely?"

"Why would I get lonely?"

"It's just you in a four bedroom house."

She looks down at her stomach. His glances shifts there, too. He wonders if her skin can stretch any further. He doesn't allow that thought to be verbalized. She wears a USMC t-shirt, and a pair of pajama bottoms. He can see the impression of a foot through her t-shirt.

"I haven't been alone in quite a while," she reminds him.