Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
My phone buzzes.
Justine Floyd
Any baby news yet?
Still waiting. They just took her back.
She sends back a laughing emoji and a series of baby-related GIFs that make me smile. Elle notices.
“Who’s got you grinning like that?” she asks, trying to peek at my phone.
I tilt the screen away. “Band stuff.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly skeptical. “Since when does ‘band stuff’ make you smile like that?”
“Since always. I love my job.”
“Right.”
We take turns pacing the halls and making coffee runs. I text with Justine intermittently through it all. She sends me jokes and song lyrics and random thoughts to keep me distracted.
Justine Floyd
If the babies are born on beat, does that make them a rhythm section?
I snort loudly enough that Josie looks up from her magazine.
Noah finally appears in the doorway, looking exhausted. I can tell he’s been crying and pray those tears were out of happiness. Josie stands first, then my mom and I help Elle stand. Slowly, we gather.
“The boys are tiny,” Noah says after clearing his throat. “They weigh just over three pounds. The girl is a bit bigger at four and a half. They’re NICI, which as you know is standard.”
“And my daughter?” Mom’s voice breaks before she can finish her sentence. “How’s my baby?
“Peyton’s in recovery. She’s seen and held her babies.” Noah pulls his phone out, taps on the screen and then shows it to my mom.
Mom covers her mouth. “She looks like my girls.”
“She does,” Noah says. “I know you can’t see her hair, but it’s dark. The boys are a bit bald, but hopefully that changes soon.” Noah laughs.
Mom turns the phone to Josie. “Look at what our babies did,” she says in a hushed tone. Both grandma’s start to cry. Liam takes the phone, he and my dad huddle together. But it’s my sister who grabs my attention before I can look at my nephews and niece.
“Is my sister okay?”
Noah grins. “She’s perfect.”
Elle awkwardly hugs Noah.
“This calls for a celebration,” Liam says as he opens a box of cigars. Each of us step up to him and take one. The labels are blue and pink with “Babies Westbury” written on each one. While we can’t light up in the hospital, something tells me the men will head outside shortly and enjoy a puff.
“Names, yet?” Josie asks.
“No, not yet. Once we get a chance to spend time with the babies, we’ll name them. We have a list of finalists,” Noah tells us.
“All I know is my niece has my name as her middle name,” my sister says proudly.
“She does; at least she has a middle name,” Noah says.
Everyone laughs.
Noah leaves, telling us he’ll update us as we can. As I suspected, Liam proposed the guys step out for a bit. I follow, taking a reprieve from all the baby talk. Outside, Liam holds the lighter for each of us to use. We take a few puffs, blow smoke in the air, and relax.
It’s the next morning before we’re allowed to officially see the babies, aside from looking through the window of the nursery, but that only happened once when Noah allowed it. After, the babies were kept behind a curtain so no one could see them.
Instead of going to my grandpa’s house, I stayed in the waiting room all night, in hopes I could see my sister. I know it was stupid, considering I could really use a bed, but something deep down told me to stay.
My sore back and the kink in my neck pays off when my dad wakes me early and tells me to follow him and Liam. We go to the nursery, where a nurse tells us to take our shirts off and to scrub, like we’ve never scrubbed before. I’m utterly confused until we go into the nursery and slip behind the curtain. There are three, somewhat comfortable looking chairs, and my niece and nephews.
“We’re going to do some skin-on-skin bonding,” my dad says as he sits down. He holds his arms out and helps guide Baby A to his chest. He reclines and closes his eyes. Liam follows with Baby B.
“I believe you’re the uncle?” the nurse says to me.
“I am.” I step forward and look at my niece. Saying she’s perfect is such a cliché, but it’s the truth. I’ve seen pictures of the twins when they were babies, and my mom was right when she said earlier that Peyton’s daughter looks like her and Elle. My niece is so small, with tiny wisps of dark hair peeking out from her pink beanie. I want to give her a high-five for her stylish attire, but that’ll have to be for later.
“Well then, this little princess would like to bond with you.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I sit, like an expected kid at Christmas, and wait. As soon as my niece is pressed to my chest, I let out the biggest, most satisfying sigh. It’s almost as if I needed this moment to clear everything away, to make my future somehow brighter and more in living color than the dark, drab gray it’s been.