Sorry for the delay on this! But, they're finally here! Thank you all for the love and reviews for this story! And since it's Easter weekend you can re-visit the chapters The Wizard of Paas and Who's Your Bunny, if you want, for holiday fun. xox
Mutiny. It's all the word I have to describe what's happening on this boat as Ana's contractions threaten to deliver our bounty on the planks of the deck our guests are delivering the contents of their stomachs on. I'd imagine something like this did go on in revolutionary America. Like when passengers set sail for the new world and there was an outbreak of small pox or big pox or whatever sized pox were in fashion in the day. This is like some post theatrical apocalyptic nightmare—a new dead president vomiting around every corner.
And the Irish fireworks are still going off! I thought the Irish brought luck!
"Ana!" I call out as I run back to her, with Taylor on my heels. I find her tucked away in the corner I left her in, surrounded by the parental booze cruise quartet and my grandparents, and they're all staring at her like she's a bomb timed and set to explode. "Ana, come with me. I need to get you to our bedroom."
"Christian, I told you!" Grace says.
"Mother, please. For the last time, your son is not a sex maniac!"
Everyone stops and stares, like who are you fooling. Yes, even my mother. And especially Carla... and Bob. How embarrassing.
"We haven't started moving yet." Ana motions to shore as I try to lift her up. Try being the operative word. It's so operative it did surgery on itself and declared the time of death.
"I know, that's why you need to help me." I grunt, my lower back spasming. "We need to go down below."
"Why?"
I need to get her away from this mess while we wait for help, but I don't want to stress her out that her best friend poisoned the entire ship.
"It's more comfortable in bed," I say.
"But, I'm comfortable here. It's a quiet corner," she says.
Not once the traveling plague finds out there are three plants back here with deep pots.
"She had another contraction while you stepped away," Grace says. "We really need to get her to shore."
"Trust me, it's happening," I say. "Once things get moving nothing will stop us."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Grace says.
"Hey Christian, Annie Girl, there's an awful long line at the bathroom," Ray says, clutching his stomach as he approaches. "Is there a private one I can get to real quick?"
"Oh God, has it hit you, too?" I ask, my panic ill contained as I run a hand through my hair and pull. Then I realize it's my wig and I've pulled the flesh of my eye. Fuck that glue is strong!
"Yeah, pretty bad. All of a sudden I felt it."
"I'm so sorry, Ray," I say.
"That's okay," he says. "I mean, I expected it, but a little later."
"A little later?" I ask, confusion furrowed in my brow.
"I guess that fancy lemonade was just too good. I sure surprised my bladder." He laughs
He's not sick?
"You're just urinating?" I ask. "Nothing else? You're sure?"
"Yeah, I guess," Ray says. "I mean, sometimes number two surprises me."
"You and me both!" my grandfather says with a laugh.
"Christian, what do you mean?" Ana asks. "What did you think hit him? And why are you asking my father about his bathroom habits?"
"Uh... All the alcohol out here on the water. With the sun beating down and the waves... I just want to make sure he's not feeling the effects from all that."
"I didn't drink alcohol today," Ray says.
"We did," Grace and Carla say in unison and giggle like school girls.
"But, we don't feel a thing," Carla says.
"I kind of feel like I'm riding a wave," my father says, mimicking either a surfer or a hula dancer, or probably both.
"Did any of you enjoy the buffet we had? The seafood, per chance?" I ask, trying to sound casual. But, from a guy who thinks dressing for casual Fridays is taking off his jacket at lunch, it's not going well.
"I had two hot dogs..." Ray says. "Maybe four."
"Nuts," Bob says. "I love cashews." He complimented me on the cashews on the jet, too. Weird. He has an odd predilection for my nuts.
"We forgot to eat," Grace says.
"Oh no we didn't," Carla says. "We had the salad bar." She shows off her half empty Bloody Mary.
"Oh that's right," Grace says. "Lettuce and tomato." She points to the stalk sticking out the top.
"That's celery, Mom," I say and they all laugh.
"So, for polling purposes, nobody enjoyed crab or shrimp or clams?" I ask and the group shakes their heads.
"The last time I ate a clam was on my wedding night," my grandfather says with a cackle. My grandmother immediately swats him.
Thank God! Never have I been so grateful that Ray only eats processed meat and Ana's mother is practically an alcoholic with peer pressure leadership skills.
"Christian, is there something wrong with the seafood?" Ana asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Yes, terrible mercury levels." I work to get her up again. "Taylor come help me!"
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't I be sure?"
"Because I'd have to touch her, sir."
I stop. Suddenly, I'm not so sure.
Fuck it. Desperate times.
"Above the elbows and below the neck and nothing in the middle," I order and he scrambles over. He works on her left while I work on her right, and already I don't like the sound of where this thought train is headed.
"Dad, Uncle Elliot just puked into your popcorn bowl," Teddy says, as he and Phoebe run up with Gail following close behind.
Fuck. Movie night will never be the same again.
"And Miss Tilly says that she's never ever ever gonna eat again," Phoebe says. "Ever."
I stop my efforts and look to the sky to check for pigs flying, but it's just more Irish fireworks.
"Elliot's sick?" my mother asks.
"Christian, did he eat rotten fish?" Ana asks, brow raised.
"On a nightly basis," I say and she gives me a glare of reprimand. "Oh, you know Elliot. He just had a little too much."
"Too much what?" Teddy asks.
"Fun," I say.
"You barfy if you have too much fun?" Phoebe asks and the kids look horrified.
"Only if you don't listen to your father."
"It's true," Carrick says. "Elliot never listens to me." He chuckles.
"I thought you guys were in the entertainment room," I say to Gail.
"We were, sir. Until your brother ran in and grabbed your bowl."
Oh my God.
Thank Mary, Joseph and the angels on high that Gail is allergic to shellfish and Taylor rarely enjoys food.
"Okay, take them and Ava to the kids' playroom and lock it."
"Yes, sir," she says.
"I don't wanna go play. I wanna watch the action," Teddy says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them like I do when I'm ready to rip apart a company.
"Yeah, me too!" Phoebe says, doing the same clap. My children mimicking my cutthroat business mannerisms really touches me.
"There's plenty of action in those video games of yours," I say.
"Yeah, but they skip in weird parts and they say funny things nobody else in my class has heard them say," Teddy says. He's right. I had Barney have someone re-do the games so all violence is removed and message statements are added, like: stay in school, math is fun and don't hit your sister. Although, now that Phoebe's older, I really need to add: don't use closed fists on your brother.
"It's because it's the special version straight from Mario at Nintendo," I say.
"You know Mario?" Phoebe asks, awed.
"Who do you think I visited in Tokyo last fall?" I say with a smile.
"What about Fritzy?" Teddy asks.
"What about him?"
"Can he come to our playroom if Phoebe gets to bring a friend?"
"Who's her friend?"
"Ava."
"That's your cousin!"
"But, she's not my friend."
"Fine. Get Fritzy."
"I don't want to miss my brothers being born," Phoebe says. "I made glitter crowns so we could make them real princes right away." Chester pops up out of her pocket wearing one. He looks like Biggie Smalls on that album cover.
"I promise you won't miss anything, Princess." I pet her head. "But, Mommy needs to rest first."
"I love you guys," Ana says and kisses them both. Even in the throes of labor she still combs their hair with her fingers and wipes some smudge off of Teddy's cheek before Gail wrangles them up and off they go. She's always a mother. And that still moves me like nothing else.
"What's wrong?" Ana asks. She must see the emotion in my eyes.
"Not a thing," I say, and smile. "Except you're not downstairs. Come on, Mrs. Grey." After some effort, Taylor and I finally get her to standing. "I'll take you while Taylor goes to check on something."
"What something, sir?"
"Everything!"
"Right away, sir. I'll keep you abreast." He takes off. Talk about abreast, her right one is gloriously pillowing my rib cage.
Concentrate Grey! Six more weeks!
"Oh God!" Ana cries out, clutching her belly.
"Don't worry. Just breathe, baby." I mimic the Lamaze techniques. She attempts them, but then moans out again. We've gone through this twice before and every time it's proven to me that breathing is bullshit.
I'm doing my best navigating attempt to get her through all this mess, but it's getting harder and harder to hide the carnage.
"Where's Kate?" she asks, now wrapping an arm so snug around my neck I fear asphyxiation, but also sort of welcome it.
"Probably tending to Elliot." After tending to herself.
I move fast past Mrs. Norman who has her head halfway down a sixteen quart pot.
"And what's wrong with Mrs. Norman?" Ana asks.
"She's got the personality of a short stemmed mushroom and embezzles PTA prizes." That auction last spring was a disgrace. Seventeen spa certificates that she was just "babysitting" for the night. Yeah, well, some "kids" were missing for role call in the morning.
"Her head is stuck in a pot," Ana says.
"I told you that months ago."
We pass a bathroom. It looks like a line at a nightclub. Except if everyone had to line up the next morning.
I finally get her to the mouth of the stairway unscathed. Hell, helping a woman nine months pregnant with twins down the stairs in a boat while wearing colonial underwear is no easy task.
And of course I'm all lit up again. But, I think half my right sleeve blew out.
"Christian, I told you I don't want to lie down," Ana says as I finally get her to the bed in the master suite and sit her down on it.
"You need peace and quiet. Zen deliveries yield infants with better sleep schedules and a more relaxed outlook on life."
"Where did you read that?"
"Zen Twins. It's a favorite new title of mine."
"I want you to tell me the truth," she says.
"It is the truth. Zen Twins was written by actual twin brain surgeons who are masters in Tai Chi."
"Not about the book," she says with an eye roll off the charts of the Richter scale. "People got food poisoning from that seafood tower, didn't they?"
"Who told you?"
"It doesn't take a brain surgeon who does Tai Chi to figure it out."
"Ok, yes, but they'll all be fine."
"I feel terrible people are sick. What can we do?"
"You can do nothing but lie here, Mrs. Grey. Help is on the way. Taylor's making sure of it."
Where the fuck is he with my update? I've been waiting nearly six minutes. Maybe six and a half.
"Why are we still not moving, Christian?" It kills me that I can't stop her worry.
I take her hand and stroke it as I sit next to her on the bed. "I told you. They're just fixing a little electrical problem. We'll be headed for the dock and you'll be at the hospital before you know it."
"You keep telling me this—"
"And I keep believing it." With angsty desperation, I sigh. "Ana, you know I'm trying everything."
"I know... but what if we don't get off in time?"
"Don't think like that! We need to think positively." And keep our minds busy on tasks. Yes, tasks distract. I lived twenty-seven years with that as my mantra. Until a girl who had fallen on her knees at my office door had distracted me more.
I eye her dress and think of a task. "You need to get changed out of your costume. You can't very well have the babies dressed as Dolly Madison."
I reach into Ana's drawers. Her actual drawers, not her panties, and I grab a change of clothing for her.
"Here," I say, handing her the sweatsuit I bought her a month or so back. Why has she kept it out here on the boat? She should be wearing this ensemble regularly, and out in public.
"I'm not putting these on," she says, looking at them with a scowl.
"Why not?"
She holds the shirt up over her belly. It reads: Property of Grey Enterprises Holdings, with the GEH logo and two rattles, plus an arrow pointing down.
"It's cute," I say. "Lets everyone know the babies belong to me."
"It lets everyone know something else belongs to you, too." She points to the arrow at the bottom of her belly. "It's pointed straight at my good girl."
She's right. That arrow is awfully low.
"Your good girl?" I smirk. "Yes, she's a very good girl. I miss her already."
"I'm serious!"
"So am I! Everyone will know that belongs to me, too."
"Honestly, Christian."
"It's either that or this." I hold up a see-thru red lace ensemble. "Now, I would definitely enjoy this. But, Doctor Greene and the hospital staff might not—"
"You are unreal!" She shakes her head as she grabs the sweats from me.
I help her stand and unlace her from her corset. No wonder she went into labor. This thing is entirely too snug. It's like serving our babies with an eviction notice.
"Oh God!" Ana cries out, clutching her belly again as she finishes putting on the shirt.
"It's okay baby, just breathe." I hold to her, wrapping my arms around her from behind and stroking her stomach.
"Christian, I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Do this," she pants.
"You're okay baby. I've got you." I hold her until it's over and then lead her back onto the bed, where I prop us both into a cuddle.
"Do you remember the first time you brought me here?" she asks after she finally relaxes into me.
"I believe you had your wicked way with me."
"Yes, I believe I did." She grins up at me. "I was so surprised by how pretty everything was. You had all those flowers and seashells. The wooden apples... I think Phoebe took a few to play grocery store."
"Yes, you're right. She charged me fifty bucks a pop. And when I said that's too expensive for apples, she told me they were organic and from Whole Foods."
"She's a smart business woman." Ana giggles.
"She is. She wouldn't let me give her play money, either." I laugh. "She's going to run things one day."
"I think she already does."
"True, Mrs. Grey. Like her mother." I smile and my lips press against the side of her forehead.
"I do love that you're mine, baby," I murmur against her temple as I stroke her belly. "That you've always been only mine."
"I know." She pets my arm that is wrapped around her. "I love that you're mine, too."
"No, I don't think I tell you enough. The fact that it's only ever been me for you isn't a privilege I take lightly." I kiss her hair.
She cocks her head up. "Christian..."
"It's true. You don't know how much it's done for me knowing that, after all these years, I've been the only one and I've been enough for you."
"Enough?" she asks, perplexed. "You've been so much more than enough."
"You gave me more, Ana. You have given me absolutely everything." She leans up and I kiss her.
There's a knock at the door. I get up to answer it.
"Who is it?" I call out. I'm not letting any drifters in to use our John.
"Sir, good news," Taylor says through the door and I immediately open it, just poking my head out so Ana won't hear anything that could stress her.
"You've fixed the boat?" I whisper.
"No, the hospital who has Tidwiler says the food poisoning isn't that bad. Should clear up within hours," Taylor whispers back.
"Well, that's good. But, I've got dozens of people out there hacking their guts up who got sick way after him." Tidwiler must've swiped an early bite. I saw him lurking around the roped off buffet before the show.
"Yes, but none that will require serious medical attention."
"I need the attention for my wife!"
"Argh!" Ana cries out again. I slam the door and race to hold her through another contraction. She needs my limbs to squeeze and I willingly provide, but I tell you, afternoons with Elena were less excruciating than this. Once she's finished, I flex my hand to make sure it still has blood flow and mobility, and then run to open the door again. Taylor's in the same position I left him in. As if there was any doubt.
"We've alerted the authorities and emergency medical services that we're in distress, sir," Taylor says, not missing a beat. "They're on their way."
"When will they be here?"
"That's the bad news."
"Bad news? You didn't tell me there was bad news! You just said you had good news."
"Well, good news usually comes with bad, I find."
"Well, I find people ask if you want to hear the bad or the good first. I wasn't given options!"
"I am sorry, sir."
"Well, what is it?"
"The bad or the good?"
"The bad, then the good. Always the good last!"
"There was a pleasure cruise incident. A firework from a show misfired at quite a length, hit the deck and caused a fire. No one was seriously hurt, but they had to evacuate."
"That's the bad news?"
"Not quite. It turns out it could've been one of our fireworks that hit. They haven't confirmed it, but partiers saw a streak of orange light the sky."
Damn Irish fireworks! They're getting their revenge.
"So, that's the bad news?"
"Not quite. Emergency services are all backed up and unable to get here right away."
"Well, when will they get here?"
"Unforeseen, sir. That's the bad news."
I clench my fist and tap my foot.
"Where the fuck is Sawyer?" I ask.
"Driving back. But it's holiday traffic, sir. There's a parade downtown."
"Get my mother, Carla and Ray," I say.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"To sit with Ana while we work."
"Work, sir?"
"I'm sick of this bull shit. I'm taking matters into my own hands. Someone needs to jump ship, swim back to shore and bring the rescue boat back so we can take Ana back to shore and get her to the hospital."
"You can't do that, sir."
"Of course I can't. But, I know someone who can."
"Who, sir?"
########
"Sir, I'm not sure this is the best laid plan," Taylor says as he climbs down the side in a pair of my swim trunks I had stashed away here. I'm secretly delighted the crotch is way too loose for him. It's tight for me.
"It's right fucking there, Taylor." I point to the dock. You've swam more in your bathtub." It's true. He and Gail have a really big and aggressively bubbly jacuzzi bath.
"Oh my god!" a dad yells out and I turn. "Someone's going to jump!"
The people that aren't too sick or inebriated gather around. Actually, I take that back, they're all too sick or inebriated, but no one wants to miss the show.
"Don't do it!" Haskell yells out. "Life's too precious." Haskell is both sick and inebriated, in addition to ass flesh stupid.
"He's not jumping!" I say. "Why would he change into a swimsuit before he off's himself."
"To leave his good clothes to family," Haskell says.
"He's getting the boat over there!" I say and point.
"Why?" Haskell asks.
"Haskell, go to the bathroom, look in the mirror and ask yourself that question while thinking of your mother's choice to have sex with your father nine months before you were born."
"I can't. It's jammed."
I shake my head. Idiot.
"So there's no chance he'll jump?" some other dad asks.
"No."
"Turn the channel, this show's a dud," he says and the rest of the crowd dissipates.
Reality television has destroyed humanity.
Taylor jumps from the ladder and laps across the sound. I'm quite impressed with his skill and ease in the water. He's making record time.
"Good going, Taylor!" I call out as he reaches the boat and grabs onto the edges. He waves in acknowledgement and then climbs up and inside where he spends a considerable length of time looking around.
"Taylor, come on!" I say and motion with my hands for him to return.
I think he's about to drive the boat back, when instead he dives back into the water and starts swimming toward me again.
"You forgot the boat!" I yell. But, he keeps on swimming.
"What the hell are you doing? Why didn't you get the boat?" I ask when he arrives to the side again and climbs up the ladder.
"Sir, I couldn't." He shakes his mop and inadvertently sprays me.
"Why, what's wrong with it? Don't tell me it's not working, too."
"Oh, it's working perfectly, sir."
"Then what the fuck is the problem?"
"The problem is that your staff is excellent and follows protocol and orders to a T, sir."
"Oh yeah, then why didn't you?"
"Sawyer locked it up. There's no key. I'm sure he has it, Mr. Grey."
I throw a palm to my forehead and wipe it slowly down my face. As if to erase everything in front of me.
"Okay," I breath out, dragging my lip down to what feels like my ankles and eventually the pit of hell. "We just have to wait for Sawyer to get back. That won't be forever, right?"
"Forty-five minutes, maybe."
Fuck.
"Well that's... manageable in some universe. Labor can go on for awhile."
And as if this universe wants to remind me that I have no control over anything in any universe anymore, I see Yankee Doodle Dandy running my way. Only it's not Mr. Doodle Dandy himself, it's Ray.
"Christian!" he calls out as he approaches, waving his arms. He stops in front of me, completely out of breath. "Annie's doing it."
"Doing it? Doing what?"
"Having..." Gasp. "The..." Gasp. "Babies." Gasp. Gasp.
"I know this. We're still working on things. It'll all be fine. We'll get her to the hospital—"
"No, I mean now. Your mother says she's at eight, almost nine centimeters."
"My mother's drunk!"
"She's not joking."
"Neither am I. She's really drunk!"
"No, Annie's definitely having contractions fast and hard now. She asked me to get you."
He doesn't have to utter another word. My girl needs me...
"Ana!" I call out as I take off running for the bedroom and again as I round through the door and to the bed to get to her.
"Oh Christian!" she says, out of breath and sweaty, as I climb up onto the bed and hold her.
"She's going to be ready soon," Grace says.
"Okay, help is coming shortly." I stroke Ana's hair. "There's still time."
"No, there's not," Ana pants, shaking her head. "I don't think I could leave this room if I wanted to. This is happening and this is happening now." She cries out in pain again.
"Okay, baby." I struggle for breath. "I'll make sure it's okay."
Damn it.
"I'll do this!" I say.
"Do what?" Ana asks.
"I'm delivering our boys." I stand and take my jacket off and throw it on the chair. It lights up. I was right my sleeve is blown. "What do we do? Boil some water?"
"Christian, I can do it," Grace says. "It may not be my expertise, but I am a doctor."
"Mother, I love you and you are an excellent physician, but there is no way, no how, under any set of circumstances my children will be delivered by anyone who spent the afternoon at the Bloody Mary bar."
"I'm sober now."
"Mother, I'm serious. I won't risk it. You can give me directions."
"Oh I feel terrible I drank," she says.
"Me, too," Carla says. Yeah right.
"Don't worry, you couldn't have known hell would descend upon us."
Maybe Tilly put a curse on us for changing her play! No, she said she's not eating again, so she's under the curse deep, too.
Ana cries out again and I give her my hand to squeeze. I'm terrified. What if what happened when she had Teddy happens here and we can't get her to the ER in time?
I can't think like that. I have to stay focused.
"What first?" I ask.
"We need towels," Grace says. "And some supplies. You have a first aid kit?"
"A kit? It's more like a first aid studio apartment. It's in a closet off the kitchen."
"Good, Ray will you help Carla and I gather everything?"
"Right away," he says and they leave.
"Boil some water, Taylor!"
"What for, sir?"
"I don't know. But, it's what's done!"
"Right away, sir. How much?"
"I don't know. Enough to do whatever we have to do with it with."
We both try and process what I just said.
"Yes, sir. I'll get it."
"And don't use the pot Mrs. Norman had her head in!" I call out after him before he shuts the door.
"Ana, baby, everything is going to be okay," I say.
"Mother fucking double cock up the ass shit wiper!" Ana calls out as she clutches her belly.
Yeah, the boys are almost here.
I sit by Ana on the bed and dial up Dr. Greene.
"I've been waiting at the hospital for over two hours," she says.
"You're longest shift to date," I mutter. "We're still stuck out here. She's having the babies now."
"How do you know?"
Ana cries out again and clamps down on my knee. Well, forget golf for awhile—or walking.
"Trust me, I know." I try to pry her fingers off me before I lose all circulation and my lower leg has to be amputated. Thankfully for us both, her pain subsides. "My mother said she was almost nine centimeters."
"Look again," she says.
"I never looked before."
"Oh God!" Ana cries.
"I'll instruct you. Prop her knees up and get between them."
I lift up the covers preparing the take Ana's sweats off when I see she's already naked down below. I gasp. Taylor was in here while she was exposed under the comforter!
"What am I looking for?" I ask as my mother and Carla and Ray come back.
"We have supplies," Grace says and starts unloading.
"Do you have a sterile medical glove?" Dr. Greene asks.
"Do we have a sterile medical glove?" I call out.
"Yes, here," Ray says and hands me box of a hundred. I had these in my closet?
"Okay, I just put it on." I straighten and snap the fingers.
"What are you doing with it?" Grace asks.
"What am I doing with it?" I ask Dr. Greene.
"Checking her dilation," she says.
"Checking her dilation," I repeat to my mother.
"I can do that," Grace says.
"Mom, it's fine. I'm wearing the glove." My attention back to Dr. Greene. "Now what?"
"Ahhhhhhh!" Ana screams out. "I have to push."
"No! Not yet, baby. I need to do something with the glove first." Back to Greene. "What do I do?"
"Do you have a lubricant?"
"Yes, in the side drawer. I think it's pineapple, but it won't eat away at latex."
"Medical lube, Mr. Grey."
"Oh, right. 'Mom, do we have any lube?" I can't believe I just asked my mother that question.
"I microwaved a bowl of water!" Taylor says as he rushes to set it on the table.
"What's that for?" my mother asks.
"I don't have a clue," Taylor says.
"I found the sanitized lube!" Carla says and gives me a squirt and I squish it all around my hand.
"Now, using your fingers push inside of her all the way up."
"How far up and how many fingers?"
"You should be able to fit them all."
"You mean you want me to fist her?" I say under my breath, since Ray is right there. I guess he'd be okay witnessing this as opposed to when we did it last time in Fiji.
"Not exactly, but it is effectively the same hand positioning," Dr. Greene says. "Go all the way until you feel where her cervix is. It should be at the end of—"
"Trust me, I know where her cervix is." Ray gives me a look. "I mean, I've seen pictures."
"Good," Dr. Greene says. "Go for it."
I put the phone on speaker and set it on the edge of the bed.
I look around. "Taylor, get on this side of the sheet, please." I point to the corner of the room by the nightstand.
"Yes, sir." He moves to where there's no view of Ana's lower regions.
I can't remember a time more oddly uncomfortable than me sticking my hand up my wife's vagina while her father and mother, my mother and my driver watch.
"What do you feel?" Dr. Greene asks.
"There's no cervix. It's wide open. But, I feel... It's strange." I move my fingers around and there's something firm. "There's some sort of large obstruction. Like a large domed mass with a fleshy covering."
Oh God, it's cancer!
"That, Mr. Grey, would be your son's head," Dr. Greene says.
I pull back and out fast. "Oh my God, it's his head!"
"Oh Christian! They're coming!" my mother squeals and everyone gets excited.
"I need to push," Ana says, throwing her head back in agony against the pillow.
"Can she push?"
"She can push," Dr. Greene says.
"Okay baby, let's do this. Push!"
She pushes down so hard I fear I may need a catcher's mitt.
"You're doing great baby," I say as she pants and then pushes again.
"Oh God," she screams.
"I can see the head!" I say.
"I know you're doing great, Mrs. Grey," Dr. Greene says. "I want you to bear down like we did with Phoebe."
"I need Christian's hand," Ana says and I reach over to hold hers as she pushes down long and hard.
"That's it baby!" I say and let go just in time to see my son's little head come out. "Oh Ana, I see him. He's beautiful." I am absolutely in awe, but I have a job to do.
"Hold to him and have her push, then you gently pull," my mother says.
I cup him softly. "Okay, push!" She pushes, I pull and out comes the most glorious creature.
"It's a boy," I say as I hold him in my arms, stunned and awestruck.
"Oh Christian," Ana says, tearing up.
"Put him in the towel," my mother says and I see she's got it open in her arms. I lay him in it, she rubs his back and then I hear him cry.
"He's here. He's really here," I say. "He's magnificent."
"You did so good, Annie." Ray says and then turns to me and pats me on the back. "You, too!"
My mother and Carla are fawning all over him. Everyone is celebrating.
"You have another one!" Dr. Greene yells.
"Oh right!" I rush back to my place between Ana's legs as she starts panting and whimpering. This exact same scene played out in this room three weeks ago, but entirely different.
"Okay Ana, push," I say. Two more and I can see a head.
"I can't." She pants. "Let me rest. So tired."
"You're almost there, baby. You can do this. Stay with me and then you can rest." I reach around so she can take my hand again. "I love you so much. You're so strong, Mrs. Grey. Give me that big push."
She bears down again and out comes the crown. She screams as she's being stretched to the outer limits. Another push and I'm able to pull him out, too.
"We've got twin boys!" I say as our second little man squirms in my arms. Everyone cheers, and I place him in a fresh towel my mother is holding open. Soon I hear the tears of new life from both my boys. And there's new life being shed from my eyes as well.
#######
"They have the most beautiful ginger hair," Ana says as she brushes a soft lock on Baby #1 whom she's cradling in her arms. I'm holding Baby #2 as we both lie in the bed tucked together.
"It's the copper that's in mine." I touch his face. "But, they have their mommy's big blue eyes. "They're so perfect." I look to Ana. "You are so perfect." I kiss her, and I have so much love for her in this moment, the kiss deepens.
"Father here in the room," Ray says, laughing. He effectively breaks us apart. I forgot we were being watched.
"Oh Christian, Ana, I'm so proud," my mother says.
"They're little angels," Carla says.
Bob, my dad and grandparents have joined us now.
"You got two little redheads, Christian! They're going to be the death of you!" my grandfather says.
"I know this already. But, it's okay, as I'm dead twice before."
"Good news, sir," Taylor says, getting off his phone. "The medics should be here shortly."
"Now, they come." I shake my head. "Hey, I just thought of something. I didn't think it was possible for her to be even more lazy and greedy, but Dr. Greene actually phoned in a childbirth today for top dollar."
"Stop!" Ana laughs.
"Wait, I just thought of something else! What time were they born?! I didn't look." Ten minutes in and I've already fucked up documentation for their entire lives.
"8:21 and 8:26 pm," Taylor says. "I took notes and recorded everything on my phone."
"You're a lifesaver, Taylor!"
"I know, sir." He grins.
"Oh, and you can come out of the corner now."
"Thank you, sir." He steps away from the night stand.
"Elliot, Kate and Mia are feeling a bit better," Carrick says. "Thankfully it was a quick one."
"Poor Jose," Bob says. "I guess he really went to town on the bluefin tuna. He's still hacking up."
"And he couldn't take pictures of the babies, what a shame," Grace says.
"Yeah, what a shame." I smile.
"I have two special visitors," Gail says as she opens the door and Phoebe and Teddy rush in.
"We'll give you all a moment alone and check on the others," Grace says and they all step out.
"Come here and meet your brothers," Ana says and the kids run to us.
"Careful," I say as they climb up. "You must be gentle with them and with Mommy."
"My brothers have hair that was dipped in strawberries," Phoebe says. "It's the most beautifulest hair I ever saw."
"Was I that small? " Teddy asks as he tucks into me and looks at his new brother.
"It's hard to believe, but yes." I kiss his head.
"Me, too?" Phoebe asks as she mimics Ana by gently petting the baby's hair.
"Yes, the tiniest angel." I smile. "You know, we never had our baby naming family meeting." They came too fast.
"Your father and I each picked a name and agreed on them. But, we need to hear your choices for the middle names," Ana says.
"I was gonna have the names of Bluebird or Diamond, but I changed it now that they have the prettiest hair."
"Okay..." I say.
"I want this brother..." She points to the one whose hair she's petting. "I want him to be called Strawberry or Carrot."
Ana and I both look at her and then to each other. That won't give him a complex or anything. I have to put on my best fatherly thinking cap to get out of this one. I mean, Bluebird and Diamond would at least ensure him a singing career.
"You know Grandpa's name is Carrick," I say. "Which in some translations is Carrot." Ana giggles. "And he'd love it if his favorite granddaughter picked his name."
"What about Ava?" Ana whispers to me. "She's his granddaughter, too."
"Trust me, Phoebe's the favorite."
"Yay, I choose Grandpa Carrot!" Phoebe says.
"Then it's settled," I say. "Middle name is Carrick known as Carrot."
I do have mad fathering skills.
"What about you Teddy?" Ana asks.
I've been preparing for Stan. A newer one he was throwing around was Lyle. Does he secretly hang out with a fraternity of plumbers I don't know about?
"Well, I was gonna pick Al," he says. "But, then I thought I could call it after a really great guy that I know."
"Who's that?" I ask.
"Taylor," he says.
"Taylor?" I ask and he nods. "Why Taylor?"
"He's like our Uncle and your best friend."
"My best friend? Well, I'm not sure he's my best friend..." I mean we do spend all our time together, but I don't guard his body and I always sit in the back seat.
"Teddy, that is so sweet," Ana says. "I love it!"
"Me, too!" Phoebe says.
"Yes, that is a very thoughtful idea," I say. "But, I'm not sure—" Ana cuts me a look. "Fine, it'll be Taylor."
The kids cheer. I hope Taylor doesn't get all soft when he finds out. I fear I'll never be able to deflate his head after this.
"I got their crowns!" Phoebe says and pulls out two tiny soft glitter crowns from her sweater pocket.
"Where's Chester?" I ask.
"Watching TV," she says.
"Oh, right."
"Okay, let's do the ceremonial naming of the new princes," Ana says.
"Wait, Ana. You have the athlete. I have the poet."
"What does that mean?"
"Their personalities. You give the baby in your arms my name I chose and I'll give this one yours." I chose a more athletic first name, Ana went the English Literature route.
"How do you know which one has which personality?"
"Trust me, after all my early morning talks with them, I know."
She's confused, but smiles and goes with it.
"Ok, this new baby boy in my arms will forever be known as Archer Carrick Grey, Archie for short," Ana says. I actually chose Archer because it sounded strong. Ana likes to add cute nicknames.
"Prince Archie Carrot!" Phoebe says and Ana helps her gently lay the crown on his head.
"And this little guy will forever be known as Oliver Taylor Grey, Olly for short," I say.
"Prince Olly Taylor!" Phoebe says and I help her lay the crown on his head.
"I think we need to capture this moment," I say and grab my phone to take a picture of my big, beautiful family. "Lean in close and say Chester." Phoebe giggles as we say his name and I snap a few shots.
They're a bit blurred, the kids squirm all over and one baby is crying. Ana's hushing him and I look like I've been through a windstorm that slammed me against a wall. This is my life and it's perfect.
"Look Daddy," Phoebe says, pointing to my phone and the last picture I took. "That's our family!"
"Yes Princess, it certainly is." I smile. And I never stop.
There's more to this when they introduce the babies to the family, and they go home. But, they are finally born! :) xox