Chapter 19 – Plans and Preparations
"You need to fold the corners in," Esme directs me. "You'll get a neater finish…don't just scrunch the wrapping paper at the ends."
"The scotch tape sticks it all together," I say defensively. "And the kids are going to rip it all off in about thirty seconds anyway."
I tape down the final crumpled corner and slap on one of the sticky labels I filled in with the kids' names earlier, using the most elf-like handwriting font I could create. I then place the wrapped package into the big cardboard box on the floor and reach for the next thing to wrap, a Lego set. "Whose is this? The treehouse Lego?"
Esme consults her list. "That one is for Noah." She finishes wrapping another gift and sticks on a Holly label, then adds it to the box of wrapped packages and selects another thing to wrap.
I measure the paper and cut what I hope is a big enough piece to wrap the treehouse Lego set, trying not to think about how much I wish Rosalie was here to do this like she always has before. It's just the way we did things – I was the one who cleaned the gutters and brushed the kids' teeth, and Rosalie read the chapter books and did all the gift wrapping. But Christmas is coming ever closer, and with no Rosalie to do it the presents weren't going to wrap themselves so Esme came over this morning and set about teaching me how to do it. Fortunately she's also stayed to help by doing everything that's awkwardly or oddly shaped, leaving me the supposedly easy boxes and books. 'Supposedly' easy…my skills here are somewhat lacking.
And for the hundredth time since Rosalie died I am feeling the biting loss of her absence, and my own painful inadequacy at doing everything she did. I'm a good dad and I know there are a lot of things I do well when it comes to the kids, but I'm not made to do this on my own. Wrapping presents, doing Daisy's hair in the perfectly smooth, tightly pulled back bun she needs for gymnastics meets, remembering to sign homework diaries and take Holly for her well-baby visits…these are just some of the things that Rosalie took care of so easily, and that I'm now floundering to deal with on my own.
I miss you so much, Rosa-girl.
"I heard back from the childcare centre over on Sycamore Street, but unfortunately they've only got one place available," Esme says, deftly wrapping up some hairbows for Daisy. "They said they'll take Holly, but would really prefer it if it were one of the twins since they're older. They were the last place we were waiting to hear from, so we're out of luck in finding a childcare that can take three babies."
I frown. "Well, that sucks." After making the decision to go back to work in the new year, I've been looking into my options for childcare which are as depressingly difficult as I had expected. "So what's the best way to work it? Have one of them at the Sycamore Street place and then the other two…the childcare near the football field said they could take Bram and Zeke, didn't they? We didn't like them that much, but they were the only place that could take the two of them full-time. They couldn't take Holly though, so if the twins go there Sycamore will have to take her. Then Mac and Noah will be covered by the after-hours care program at the school and Daisy can do that too, on days she doesn't walk down to the gym." I grimace at the thought of coordinating it all. "Hell, on gymnastics days I'm going to have to pick up kids at four different places…that'll be fun."
"It's not ideal," Esme agrees. "Sycamore Street said if you enrol one of them and put the other two on the wait list they'll prioritise your application, but they can't make any guarantees about how long it would take to get all three of them in there."
I shrug, "What else can I do? Bram and Zeke are still four and a half years away from starting school, so even if it takes months for a place to open up I'm still going to need it. Until then…I guess I'll just do a lot of driving around and begging you and Carlisle to help me." I give Esme a weak smile.
"We can do that, but I also think you should take a second look at the option of private care," Esme says. "I've given it a lot of thought since I realised we couldn't get the three younger ones into the same day care at this point and I think it could be an ideal solution."
"The nanny thing? It's just so expensive," I say. "I mean, at the moment my income is just kind of…theoretical. My inbox is full of emails from people wanting to talk about pieces, but I don't have any actual appointments booked or anything. And I haven't worked full time in years – I've got a good reputation as far as it goes, but it's going to take time to build up my client base and get my name out there again as someone who's worth the big money. My income is going to be pretty erratic for a while."
"Carlisle and I have run the numbers, and with a little help I don't think private care is completely out of reach," Esme says. "What you'll pay in day care fees for three infants, plus after school care for three elementary schoolers, comes quite close to what an in-home carer would cost and Carlisle and I, or even Jack and Lily, can help make up the shortfall."
"You already do so much for us," I mumble. "I don't want to take your money too."
Esme smiles gently. "We want to do it. I think you'll be happier if you're working, and…I really want you to be happy Em." Her voice wobbles for a moment, and she takes a deep breath. "Having the children taken care of here at home will make some things a lot easier. You won't have to organise drop-offs and pick-ups at multiple places, start and finish times can be a little more flexible, and you also won't be scrambling to arrange care at the last minute because one of the children has a cold. And believe me, the first year they're in care they're going to get sick! A nanny won't do heavy housework – I was thinking we might look into a cleaning service – but they'll make sure there are clean bottles and help out with the babies' laundry. The twins have each other to play with, but a nanny can take them to library story time and baby gym for some extra socialisation as well…basically do all the things that you would have done if you stayed home with them."
"You think we'll find someone who wants to look after three kids twelve months old and under by themselves?" I say a little doubtfully. "Plus the older kids after school…that's six kids for one babysitter."
Esme laughs. "You do it," she points out, although she does go on to concede, "It is asking quite a lot, but we'll pay well and hopefully find the right person."
"How do I find someone like that?" I ask worriedly.
"Word of mouth, employment agency, Craigslist…I'll look into the best way to find someone," Esme says briskly, selecting another roll of wrapping paper.
"But is it safe?" I venture. "I mean, they're just babies. They can't even talk to tell me if something is wrong. At least at a childcare centre there's some oversight."
I have always fought against letting my past define my present. I never wanted to let what happened to me as a child and teenager make me bitter or angry or abusive in turn, and I like to think that it hasn't. But it left a mark, and trusting my children to anyone who isn't my immediate family is something I have more trouble with than most people.
"We'll look for someone qualified and experienced, and we'll check references very carefully," Esme says. "You know I would never risk the children's safety. We'll be very particular! I'll try and arrange interviews with potential carers as soon as possible, so perhaps you'll be able to start back at work after the winter break."
"I'll talk to Jonah about it. Go through my emails, see what people are looking for…" The idea of getting back to work, of drawing and creating once again, makes me suddenly feel lighter.
"Hello!" The front door bangs open. "We're here!"
I leap to my feet and bolt into the hallway, whispering frantically, "No! Shhh! I swear to god, if you've woken those twins…aww, shit." From behind the baby gate to my right I hear the disgruntled noises of two boys woken up too early.
"I'm sorry!" Alice says contritely.
"Ah, whatever." I step forward and give her a hug. "It's good to see you Monkey-face."
"You too." She squeezes me hard. "I'm sorry I woke them."
"Hey," I say to Jasper, who is coming up the front steps behind Alice, hauling a canvas kit bag and Alice's enormous red suitcase. "How are you doing? You can just put all your junk in the spare room."
I open the baby gate for Bram and Zeke, who seem bright eyed and cheerful despite their truncated nap as they come toddling out. Since they took their first steps a couple of weeks ago, just before their birthday, they haven't looked back.
"Oh look, they're on two feet like real people!" Alice says admiringly. "That's so cute! Look at them Jas, they're like tiny little drunks tottering along!"
"Tiny little drunks who are just about to destroy my afternoon's gift-wrapping work," I say, hastily sidling past them and going into the kitchen so I can lift the box of presents well out of their reach.
Esme is quickly adding name labels to the last two presents. "Perfect timing," she says in satisfaction. "These are the last ones…hello sweetheart! It's lovely to have you both home for Christmas." She hugs Alice and Jasper.
"Ga-a!" Bram lurches in and clutches onto her leg.
"Oh my gosh, they're even talking," Alice says, shaking her head. "How many things can they say? How about Alice boys? Can you say Alice? They just change so fast…I was only here last month! What about Holly? She's probably crawling or something, getting ready for college, I don't know…"
I laugh. "Not quite. But she's a lot bigger than she was." I lift the little twins into their high chairs and fill sippy cups with water. "They both say Dada, and that Ga-a word means Grandma or Grandpa depending on who they say it to, and of course they both say NO." I give them their cups, and toss a handful of raisins onto each tray. "And Bram says MowMow, which is what he calls that stuffed cat they sleep with – I think he means Meow – and Zeke says Bam for Bram."
Esme puts the scissors and scotch tape away in the junk drawer, and gathers up the what's left of the rolls of wrapping paper. "You should go and hide this box of gifts away in the basement before the older ones get back from school."
"Oh, are these Christmas presents for the kids?" Alice cranes her neck to look into the box. "They all still believe in Santa, right? I can just imagine how excited they all must be…it's going to be so much fun to be here for Christmas!"
I grin at her. I don't have the words to express how grateful I am that she and Jasper are going to be here to help me through this brutal first Christmas without Rosalie. Even as I feigned interest and excitement for the kids' sakes, I had been dreading the upcoming holiday, and Alice's cheerful announcement that she and Jasper would spend their Christmas break staying in my spare room had felt like a lifeline. I want so badly for it to be everything the kids are dreaming of, and I know that Alice's boundless enthusiasm and Jasper's quiet, solid strength are going to go a long way to keeping me going to do it for them.
"They're getting a trampoline too," I say. "I had it delivered to the shop though so they wouldn't accidently discover it. Jonah's going to bring it round Christmas Eve, after they're all in bed."
Jasper raises an eyebrow. "A trampoline? How long until Mac's in the ER?"
"Oh, by the new year probably," I snort. "I did get the springless kind with a net though, so hopefully the risk of damage is minimised. I'm just going to take all these down to the basement." I carry the box of presents down to the basement and hoist it up onto the top of the storage shelf. It's the box Daisy's car seat came in and it's lived in the basement hiding presents for the past eight years and none of the kids have looked in it yet.
Having Alice and Jasper around immediately makes the house feel more festive. They play with the twins and Alice gives Holly her bottle when she wakes up, and they're there to greet Mac and Noah when they get off the bus, stuffed full of cupcakes from class parties and excited for the Christmas break.
Late in the afternoon I leave Alice playing with Bram and Zeke in the tub while Esme makes dinner, and I drive to the gym to collect Daisy with Jasper coming along for the ride.
"The kids seem like they're doing okay?" he questions.
I shrug. "The babies are all doing fine. They don't know anything really, so it's pretty much just feeding, sleeping, and playing for them. Daisy's doing okay. She gets sad, but she's busy with gymnastics and school and she's really close to Esme, which helps I think. She really loves taking care of Holly too. Mac and Noah…eh, it could be better. Mac's in trouble at school and Noah's so anxious he's probably going to give himself an ulcer, so…" My voice fades.
"They'll come round," Jasper says. "They're going to counselling, right?"
"Yeah, they both see the school counsellor and she seems really good. Mac's hanging out with the principal a lot too, but that's mostly about keeping him out of trouble – people are understanding, but there are only so many times he can punch kids before someone's parent is going to kick up. Leo wants to avoid that."
"At least the school is on his side." Jasper grimaces and then glances at me sideways. "What about you?"
"I haven't been punching anyone," I joke. "I'm sometimes tempted by the asshole in a two-seater sports car who parks in the 'mom and baby' parking spot at the grocery store when I'm wrangling three babies, but so far I've restrained myself."
Jasper laughs. "I don't know how you get around with three of them."
"I can't go anywhere without the double stroller for the twins and the baby carrier for Holly," I say with a sigh. "Once they're steadier on their feet I might leash them. Like a dog walker, tie them to my belt, see how that goes."
We're a little early to the gym, and as we lean against the wall I point out where Daisy's group is clustered on the floor mats to Jasper. She sees us and waves, frantically mouthing, "Watch me! Watch me!" as she bounces over to the corner of the mat to begin her routine.
I always like watching Daisy at gymnastics. She's a tiny scrap of a thing, the smallest kid in her group, but the things she can do amazes me. She has always merged Alice's enthusiasm with Rosalie's determination, and her obvious joy in what she's doing makes her magnetising.
Jasper leans forward to watch her, smiling. "She's good, isn't she?" he comments, as Daisy completes her first tumbling run.
"She really is." Daisy looks over at us to check that we're paying attention, flashing a quick grin before she continues.
Jasper and I watch Daisy finish her routine and her group do their final cool-down and stretches. It's their last training session before the break, so when they're done all the girls run back to their bags and start handing around Christmas cards and candy canes and the ubiquitous friendship bracelets. By the time she comes skipping over to us Daisy has so much string knotted around her wrists she can barely pull the sleeves of her jacket over it all.
I give her a thumbs up. "Great routine."
She smiles shyly at Jasper as she quickly tugs her leggings and socks on. "Did you see me?"
He grins back at her. "You were phenomenal."
I feel the same brief quirk of nameless emotion I often do when I see Daisy and Jasper together, and see the inescapable fact of their likeness. It's not exactly jealousy, although there's maybe a part of that – he fathered her and that's a connection she and I will never have, but she has been mine from the day she was born. But it's more a profound feeling of love, and gratitude, and beyond that a breathtaking sense of luck because somehow everything in the world lined up in just such a way that this little girl became my daughter. It doesn't feel like it now, but sometimes…life really did go my way.
"Come on," I say, holding out a hand. "Let's go home. It's Christmastime!"
