He looks through the lens of the camera at his family. As he sets the timer on the camera he catches a glimpse of his exhausted wife. He joins them on the couch just in the nick of time. He gets up to review the picture. Zara stares back at him from the couch, in irritation.
"Dad! That's at least a dozen of them, can we be done now?"
Nick looks at the picture on the camera. He turns his attention to the people sitting on the couch before him. His oldest son pulls at his tie. Zara twirls her long dark hair. Isaac squirms on his brother's lap despite Gil's best efforts to keep him still. Nick steps away from the camera and moves towards the couch. He stops in front of his son, and reaches for the squirmy baby.
"You guys are free to go, we're done here."
Gil, and Zara race out of the room as if they've just endured an afternoon of torture. He takes a seat on the couch next to his wife, and places Isaac on the floor. Isaac smiles up at him with dark eyes, curly hair, and chubby cheeks. He smirks, and then turns towards his wife. She wears a look of relief.
"Was this too much? I know that you said you wanted to wait, but I thought we should do it when we were all together."
"I look like a beached whale, but I am glad you wanted to commemorate that."
"I agree not to take pictures of you for months."
"And for the past two weeks that has been all you have done."
"I can't help it. I just want us to document our family."
"I know," she breaks eye contact, and looks down.
In her right arm a little girl with long fingers, and a frilly pink dress, and matching tights sleeps in her arms. In her left arm a sweet little boy, with dark hair, and tiny little suit on stares up at her with dark eyes. He sucks on his pacifier. She exhales, and catches her husband's glance.
"Can you take one of them, my arms are falling asleep?"
He simply nods, and slips the little girl out of her arm. He places her on his shoulder, and begins to pat her back.
"Are you happy?" He questions.
"I am completely exhausted, sleep deprived, and slightly stir crazy. We have had five kids under one roof all weekend. We have three kids under eight months old. I have been consistently covered in drool, snot, spit up, or urine for most of the last seven and a half months..."
He cuts her off, "So no?"
"She kisses him."
"I'm happier than I've ever been," she admits.
"You're sure?"
"What more could I want? I have an amazing husband..."
"You forgot handsome."
She smirks, "And beautiful, well behaved kids."
"A pile of mail with a stack of bills," he adds.
"Did you go through the mail yet?"
"No, you want it?"
"Can you go through it, I'm about ready to bust."
"Okay," he agrees.
She exits the room with the little boy in her arms. With his free arm he lifts Isaac off the floor, and places him in the play pen, with his toys so he won't crawl away. He carries his two week old little girl into the kitchen, stopping at the table. With his free hand he starts to sort through three days worth of mail. Bills, bills, junk mail, magazines, his heart skips a beat when he sees the envelope at the bottom of the pile. He takes a deep breath, and pulls out a chair. He places his daughter in the bouncy seat located in the center of the kitchen table, and fastens her in. He holds the envelope in his hands, just staring at it for several minutes.
He shakes his head reminding himself that he already knows the truth. A couple pieces of paper don't change anything. In his mind, and under that law their are his. Two babies born after their wedding. A small wedding in the Captain's backyard with only their closest friends, and family present, just weeks before the birth of their twins. He looks at the ring on his finger, and smiles. He hadn't realized he could be this happy. She was right. Their life is complete chaos, and neither of them have ever been happier.
He swallows hard, and rips open the envelope. He removes the papers from inside, and pauses for a moment. He looks up at the precious baby sitting in the center of the table. Her dark eyes stare up at him.
"Mija," he grins.
She coos.
"Sophie Elizabeth, mi amor, como estas?"
She stuffs her thumb in her mouth. He grabs her pacifier off the table, and swaps it for her finger. She spits it at him in disgust.
In the nursery Olivia sits in the glider, feeding her son. He stares up at her with dark eyes. His hair is thick, and dark, just like she expected. Her daughter on the other hand has a perfectly shaped, bald head. He presses the palm of his hand against her heart.
"Hi, Nicolas Benson Amaro."
He unfolds the papers contained within the envelope. He begins to read. He memorizes each detail, each word. His eyes flutter to the line near the bottom of the page. He stares at the percentage, and moves on to the next piece of paper. Just a couple of pieces of paper with a potential to change their whole lives.
She's finished feeding Nicolas, burped him, and laid him down, several minutes later. She heads into the kitchen, and finds her husband sitting at the table, with a blank look on his face. Their daughter sucks her thumb.
"Are you okay?" She quizzes.
He makes no response.
"I came to get Sophie to put her down for her nap."
He tugs on her arm, "Have a seat."
"What's wrong?" She stares at him with a look of concern.
He points to the seat next to him. She nods, and pulls out the chair. She doesn't take her eyes off of him.
"What's going on?"
"It finally came."
"The hospital bill?"
As he shakes his head the solemn look remains on his face.
"What finally came?"
"The DNA tests."
"Nick you told me that it doesn't matter."
"It doesn't. I told you that it doesn't a million times, why did you insist on having the test done?"
"I didn't want you to spend the next eighteen years raising two babies that I told you might not be yours."
"I understand that."
"So open it."
"Olivia I told you that it didn't matter. I told you that I didn't want to know. I was certain. You seemed pretty certain yourself."
"Nick, if you don't want to know, if you truly don't care, then give me the envelope. I have to know. I will read it, and when I'm finished I'll burn the evidence."