Another Heart to Hold
Late March 2024
"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." - Theodore M. Hesbaugh
Wyatt had just pulled a pan of bacon from the oven and was standing at the stove deftly plating a stack of blueberry pancakes when the twins skipped and twirled into the kitchen like miniature whirlwinds. "Morning, Daddy," Flynn chirped with a cheerful grin, climbing into her booster seat at the table while Amy made a beeline for her father, wrapping tiny hands around his leg and hugging tightly. It was the day before Easter, and the Preston-Logans were invited to Denise and Michelle Christopher's home for an egg hunt this afternoon followed by a cookout. His daughters had talked about nothing else all week.
Taking a second to lovingly run a hand over Amy's soft raven hair before she took a seat beside her sister, Wyatt smiled and replied, "Morning, sweet girls. You sleep okay last night?" setting the platter of pancakes in the middle of the table. Grinning at their fervent nods, he filled another platter high with crispy strips of bacon and placed it beside the pancakes, both far enough away to discourage sneaky little fingers.
After helping the girls place napkins over their laps, he took their Elsa and Anna sippy cups from the cupboard and opened the fridge to retrieve a frosty bottle of apple juice. Expecting to see Lucy following closely behind the twins, Wyatt glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Where's Mommy? Her breakfast is gonna get cold." As was his habit, he very much enjoyed making a big breakfast for their family on the weekends; this morning, however, Lucy was sleeping so soundly when he got out of bed, he didn't have the heart to wake her, merely pressed a kiss on the top of her messy curls before leaving the room.
In the middle of filling the colorful cups, his steady grip on the juice bottle slipped for a half second at Flynn's innocent reply. Her pert nose scrunched in disgust, she declared, "Mommy gots an upset tummy, Daddy. We saw her barfing in your bathroom...it was gross, right, Sissy?" Her wide-eyed twin nodded gravely in agreement. What?
"Hey, Daddy? If Mommy is sick, can we have her bacon, please?" An alarmed frown creasing his brow, Wyatt ignored the hopeful expression on Flynn's face and hastily set the cups in front of the girls, intent on getting to his wife. He looked up at her sudden appearance in the doorway, wobbling maybe just a little, her normally creamy skin bleached of color.
Rushing to Lucy's side, Wyatt wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. Carefully pressing his lips to her forehead, he was relieved at the lack of fever, although her skin did seem a little clammy. "Sweetheart, are you alright? Flynn said you were throwing up."
With a shuddering sigh, Lucy tucked her cheek on Wyatt's chest and mumbled something about a virus going around campus. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked anxiously, running a gentle finger down her soft cheek. "If you're not feeling up to it, I'll call Denise to cancel and we can hide some eggs for the girls around the back yard," Wyatt offered, pretending not to hear the disappointed protests from the twins.
Pulling away from his embrace, Lucy gave him a shaky smile and answered lightly, "You're sweet to ask, but don't fuss, Wyatt. I'm fine, just a little queasy. I'm sure it will pass soon enough, and anyway, we promised Amy and Flynn a visit to see DeeDee and Mimi this afternoon, right girls?" Barely aware of the twins' exuberant response to their mother's intentionally cheerful response, Wyatt reluctantly tamped down his misgivings (for now). Keeping a protective eye on his wife during breakfast, he couldn't help but notice Lucy barely swallowed a couple sips of apple juice as she slowly ate a single piece of bacon...quite deliberately avoiding the cup of her favorite coffee he'd prepared. Something was not quite right here.
As soon as they finished eating, the satisfied but syrup-sticky twins dutifully followed their mother upstairs for a quick bath while Wyatt volunteered to clear the table and load the dishwasher. By the time he finished in the kitchen and headed up the steps to change his clothes, the girls were out of the tub and dressed and his wife was braiding Flynn's hair while her sister waited patiently. Pausing unseen just outside the twins' room, Wyatt smiled at the sweet picture his three girls made. Despite worrying unnecessarily at times during her difficult pregnancy about what kind of mother she would be (Thanks, Rittenhouse "Mom of the Year," Carol Preston, for that), from the day they brought the twins home, Lucy was a complete natural-so patient and loving–it was little wonder their daughters adored her.
Ducking into the master bedroom, he shed his tee shirt and flannel pants in favor of a thick navy sweater worn over a white tee with dark jeans. Perched on the side of their bed to put on his boots, Wyatt looked up when his wife walked into the room. It seemed to him Lucy still looked a little peaked, but he wisely held his tongue until she unexpectedly dropped down on the bed beside him and sighing wearily, rested her head against Wyatt's shoulder. He didn't care how much she protested, someone was definitely not her usual lively self...
"I'm probably taking my life in my own hands here, but sweetheart, are you sure about this afternoon? It's gonna be a long day if you're not feeling all that great," Wyatt asked, bracing himself for a sharp set down that surprisingly enough, never materialized.
"I love you for worrying, Wyatt, but it's alright-I'm probably just run down or something. Things have been hectic at school the past couple of weeks with so many of the faculty out with this nasty virus that's going around," Lucy reasoned. "Listen, if I'm still feeling blah by Monday morning, I promise I'll go see the doctor, alright?" Unwilling to further upset his wife, Wyatt made a sincere effort to quiet the uneasy feeling that whatever was wrong with Lucy might be more than just an ordinary virus.
It was a real bunker family reunion that afternoon. Under a pale early spring sky, Wyatt, Lucy and the twins congregated in Denise and Michelle's spacious back yard, along with their kids Mark and Olivia, plus Rufus and Jiya, as well as Connor and his guest, a pleasant, very attractive woman he'd been dating the past year, a pediatric specialist named Rachel Johnson who practiced at UCSF Medical Center. It was always fun for them to spend time with their extended family, and the adults thoroughly enjoyed watching an enthusiastic Amy and Flynn run around hunting for the eggs Olivia hid that morning.
As the afternoon shadows began to lengthen across the yard, it was time to start supper. Mark, who was home this week on spring break from Lucy's alma mater, Stanford University, excused himself to meet up with some friends, but only after patiently promising to be home by curfew. Privately, Wyatt was impressed by how respectful the 18-year-old college freshman was with his moms, especially considering he physically towered over Denise by about a foot.
While the women carried heaping bowls of various side dishes out to the family-sized picnic table on the back deck, the guys took turns manning the grill loaded with marinated chicken breasts, hamburgers and hot dogs. Casually talking baseball with Rufus, Wyatt managed to surreptitiously watch over his wife. Even though he knew full well Lucy would be pissed if she caught him, he just couldn't help himself. Despite personally witnessing her carefully apply a light coat of makeup this morning, to his critical eye, her complexion remained somewhat washed out, and he caught a couple of yawns she tried to cover up.
Connor and Rachel left not too long after supper since she was on call at the hospital early in the morning. The others pitched in to clean up the mess while Olivia offered to keep the twins occupied with a DVD. Once the deck and Michelle's kitchen were squared away, Wyatt walked into the family room to retrieve his daughters, not surprised in the least to see them curled up sound asleep on either side of Olivia. "How far into Frozen 2 did they get?" he dryly asked the teen, who shrugged and with a shy grin, guessed maybe five minutes. The little girls had worn themselves out earlier today egg hunting and romping around the yard, and would probably sleep all night once he and Lucy got them home and tucked into bed.
In spite of proceeding with caution, the overtired twins were predictably cranky at being woke up, but fortunately, the tears were kept to a minimum thanks to Uncle Rufus skillfully distracting them with corny knock-knock jokes. After several goodbye kisses and hugs, at last they were securely buckled into their booster car seats. Wyatt and Lucy exchanged knowing glances when the first whine came from the back seat mere seconds after their SUV pulled away from the curb. "Mommy, me and Flynnie wanna stay with 'Livia at DeeDee's house...Mimi said it was okay," Amy fussed, her lower lip trembling unhappily.
"Yeah, Mommy, we don't wanna go home," Flynn declared sleepily in solidarity with her sister, rubbing a small fist against one eye.
Deliberately keeping his expression blank and both eyes on the road, Wyatt murmured, "You wanna take this one, Mommy?" smirking inwardly at the slight frown he sensed his wife was sending his way-along with a warning pinch of his thigh-before turning her attention to their daughters.
"Well, girls, Daddy and I know how much you love Olivia, and it's very nice of Mimi to invite you to spend the night, but since tomorrow is Easter, I'm afraid if you aren't in your beds at home with us, Mr. Bunny might not know where to leave your baskets when he visits in the morning," Lucy advised solemnly. For a few moments, there was complete silence in the back seat as the girls seriously considered their mother's response.
Chancing a peek in the rearview mirror, Wyatt was charmed by the brief wordless discussion the twins shared before a little voice piped up from behind them. "Hey, Mommy?" Flynn asked hesitantly, taking the lead, "Maybe we better stay with you and Daddy tonight so Mr. Bunny can find us, right, Sissy?" It was too adorable the way their devious four-year-old minds worked and Wyatt coughed gruffly to cover his chuckle.
Once their daughters were fast asleep, he and Lucy finished putting together simple gift baskets from "Mr. Bunny" that would mysteriously appear on the dining room table before the girls woke in the morning. Sending his weary wife to bed, Wyatt locked up and turned out the lights before heading upstairs. To his pleased surprise, he discovered a now wide-awake Lucy propped against the pillows of their king-size bed wearing little more than a few scraps of silky material and a very inviting smile.
To her credit, the dark-haired temptress didn't laugh when a distracted Wyatt possibly stubbed a toe on the dresser in his haste to shed his clothes before approaching the bed. "See something you like, cowboy?" Lucy purred, her earlier fatigue and nausea apparently gone. I sure as hell do-thank you, God, he thought gratefully, trying and failing to hold onto his dignity-like it even mattered.
"Yes, Ma'am," Wyatt answered in a husky undertone before climbing on the end of the bed and lowering himself on top of her lithe body, effectively putting a satisfying end–twice-to a rather pointless (in his opinion) conversation before they fell asleep. Slender threads of muted early morning light were just starting to filter through the drapes when he woke at a hasty knock on the door that sounded seconds before the twins burst into their parents' bedroom. "Mommy! Daddy! Wake up, it's Easter now! Can we go downstairs and see if Mr. Bunny was here, please? Please?" they shrieked, wide awake and practically beside themselves with anticipation.
Rolling over, Wyatt stretched hastily and rubbed his bleary eyes, amused when he heard a low groan from the Lucy-shaped mound of covers behind him. Taking pity on his clearly exhausted wife, he gently patted her hip and rumbled, "I got this–why don't you go back to sleep, sweetheart. Come downstairs when you're awake."
Smirking at the mumbled "best husband ever" Lucy tossed over her shoulder before snuggling down into the covers and drifting off, Wyatt swung long legs over the side of the bed and keeping a sheet over his lap, scrubbed his hands over his face. Damn, maybe he was getting too old for staying up half the night making love to his beautiful wife...
Drawing the excited four-year-olds to him and smoothing back dark tumbled curls, Wyatt kissed their soft, rosy cheeks and whispered, "Hey, girls, why don't we let Mommy sleep for a little bit longer. She's pretty tired this morning, alright?"
Amy nodded obediently, but he felt his cheeks warm when Flynn cocked her head to one side and regarding her father with a surprisingly thoughtful expression, asked, "Why is Mommy tired?" Since he personally knew exactly why Lucy might still be tired after being in bed all night, Wyatt took a deep breath and resolutely ignored the muffled snort behind him. It was way too early in the morning for questions like this, he thought ruefully. Suggesting the twins wait for him at the top of the steps, he grabbed a tee shirt and flannel pants and made a quick pit stop in the bathroom.
Promising the girls they could check the dining room table where Mr. Bunny usually left their Easter baskets as soon as they ate after Mommy woke up, Wyatt led them downstairs and put them to work helping him prepare breakfast. While Amy painstakingly set the table, at his request, Flynn cautiously retrieved a carton of eggs from the fridge, beaming proudly when she set them on the counter. "Thank you, girls, you're definitely Daddy's best helpers today," Wyatt praised, tickled when the twins proudly high-fived each other.
Fortunately, before his daughters' patience was completely maxxed out, their mother wandered into the kitchen looking deliciously rumpled-at least to her husband. With delighted shouts of "Mommy," the twins jumped up from the table, throwing chubby arms around her waist. Smothering a delicate yawn, she bent and affectionately ruffled their dark curls before bestowing a tender kiss on Wyatt's cheek. Busy at the stove, he still noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lucy bypassed the coffee he'd brewed and poured orange juice for herself and the girls. At least her appetite was a little improved this morning, Wyatt was relieved to see, although she ate sparingly of the scrambled eggs and buttered toast he made.
After their casual meal was finished, Lucy began clearing the table and stacking dirty dishes in the sink as Wyatt wiped their impatient little girls' hands and faces before they descended on the dining room with happy shrieks while Mommy and Daddy settled on the sofa to relax. Wrapping his arm around his wife's narrow shoulder and leaning in to inhale the sweet fragrance of her soft skin, he asked how she was feeling this morning. Faintly disappointed but not too surprised when Lucy shrugged and said she was fine, he let it slide. Wyatt trusted she'd keep her word about going to the doctor tomorrow-he just hoped it wasn't necessary...
Up by dawn and out the door the next morning before his girls were awake, Wyatt was in Denise's office going over staff scheduling for the week when his phone chimed softly. Seeing a text from Lucy, he politely excused himself, grinning inwardly when his superior waved him away without taking her attention from the paperwork on the desk in front of her. Once Wyatt was inside his office, all traces of amusement disappeared, however, and his heart skipped a beat when he read his wife's terse message:
Can you take an early lunch and come home? It's important...
A/N: Oops! It's a cliffhanger-although unlike Wyatt, I think we all have a pretty good idea what's wrong with Lucy, lol...Hope you enjoy this return visit to the "Holding Their Hearts Forever" universe as much as I loved writing it. And good news! I've already started on the next chapter. As always, I sincerely appreciate everyone's favorites, follows and kind reviews of my stories–thank you so much! :))