april, age 17
 There was nothing quite like a lie-in on a Saturday morning after a busy week. Halfway through the fortnight off for the Easter holiday, Lucas had spent the first week down on the peaceful island of Stowe-on-Sea with his father and that side of his family and although his A2 exams were coming up at the end of May, less than two months away, he had found the time away surprisingly relaxing. His sisters were growing up now: Isabella had almost finished her first year of high school while Matilda was just a year behind, coming to the end of her last year at primary school. With Lucas a few months away from heading off to university, it was a big year for the family.
That Saturday, the day after returning from the island after a painstakingly long journey, Lucas felt like he deserved the rest. The three hour ferry to the mainland had been ok, plenty of space to walk about and breath in the fresh sea air on the deck, but the five hours in the car had been hell. Cramped in the back seat between the window and Matilda, he’d had to have the window rolled down the whole way though the cool breeze hadn’t stopped Isabella’s car sickness. Halfway back, she had thrown up on the verge of the road and switched places with her mother. The backseat had been a lot more squashed with Lucas and Cora sandwiching Matilda.
The journey had been broken up by several stops thanks to Matilda’s small bladder and Floyd’s need for caffeine to get him through the drive, as well a longer break for something to eat, and it had been close to midnight before they had got home. As lovely as the holiday had been, that journey had spoiled it a little. They had enjoyed six and a half days of surprisingly mild weather, playing games on the beach and paddling in the cold sea. Lucas wasn’t much of a fan of the sand or the water but he had enjoyed being with his family.
The forecast had said that Farnleigh would wake up to a torrential downpour on Saturday morning, the heavens opening above to throw down buckets of rain. The forecast had been perfectly accurate. The sky was a rainbow of grey, the rain sheeting down so hard and fast that Lucas couldn’t see the individual droplets amongst the flood. Rivulets scurried down his window, the streaks of water chasing each other down the pane.
Lucas sighed. It was about time the April showers kicked in. The going had been too good so far after the balmy weather down south. Reluctantly rolling out of bed, he straightened his glasses on his nose and stuffed his feet into a pair of slippers. They were too small really, supposedly one size fits all though they were a little tight. Pulling on a dressing gown over his pyjamas, he headed out of his bedroom and down the narrow hallway that separated the rooms from the rest of the house.
His parents were already up. Cora was holding a load of bread up to the light to see if the mould was bad enough that she shouldn’t eat it while Floyd sat with a cup of tea and the paper.
“Morning, sleepy butt,” Cora said with a smile. “It’s not like you to sleep in so late. I bet you really needed that.”
“I did,” Lucas said with a yawn. “What time is it?”
Floyd checked his watch. “Just gone eleven,” he said. “Actually, I should get the girls up soon. What time’s Tilly’s dance practice?”
“Twelve forty-five” Cora said. “And Issy has cello at one, which is just about perfect. We’ll leave in the next ninety minutes or so, I reckon.” She untwisted the loaf, taking out a couple of slices that she picked the odd spot of mould off before dropping them in the toaster. “They’re probably absolutely pooped, babe. The more they sleep, the better. Otherwise they’ll just be cranky all day and dance tires Tilly out enough already.”
She took a seat, a faint grimace on her face. “Maybe she shouldn’t go today,” she mused, glancing at the calendar. Still eight weeks to go until Matilda was due to showcase her talents in her dance recital. “She can afford to miss one or two, can’t she? We got back so late.”
“She won’t want to miss it,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “If she misses dance then she’ll be even more cranky and you’ll have to deal with it for longer.”
Cora chuckled. “Well, there we go,” she said. “Decision made. You know, it’s been so wonderful having you around, Lucas.”
It wasn’t often that he spent a whole week at his father’s house, naturally spending more time with his mother when that had been his arrangement growing up, but as he got older and more independent, he felt less guilty when he floated between the two.
“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me over the next couple of months, I think,” he said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Do you mind if stay here a bit more until my exams?”
“Of course we don’t mind,” Floyd said. “Lucas, this is just as much your home as ours, you’re always welcome. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded. He had only really asked to be polite when he didn’t usually spend so much time there. “Cheers, Dad. It’s just, you know, Mum’s going to have the babies soon and I don’t mean to sound selfish, but I won’t be able to concentrate at home.”
Cora chuckled, squeezing his shoulder as she reached for a plate for her toast. “You’re not being selfish, hun,” she said. “It must be a bit of a madhouse at home. How’s your mum doing?”
Lucas nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “It is,” he said, “and she’s ok. Relatively, anyway. I haven’t spoken to her for a few days, actually, but she was fine. Just very tired and quite immobile.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s such a trooper,” Cora. “I was tearing my hair out just with one, I’ve not idea how she’s coping with three.”
Lucas wasn’t sure either. He had worried that his mother’s fears would grip her, that she would overwhelm herself with the worries that consumed her whenever she thought about having three extra mouths to feed, but she seemed to have accepted the inevitable.
The pregnancy had been the opposite of easy, though. From the start, Sarah and Truman had been advised that she would likely have to give birth at thirty-two weeks and watch her babies spend their first couple of months in intensive care. Her fears had only worsened when she had been put on enforced bed rest at twenty-eight weeks, struggling to carry out the simplest of tasks. Halfway through her pregnancy, she had already been as big as she had at the point of giving birth to her older children and now, thirty-seven weeks in, she was as big as a house with a caesarean section booked for a few days time.
“I think it’s just one day at a time, really,” Lucas said, sipping his drink. It killed him to see his mother in such discomfort, hardly able to move, and she had spent the past couple of months constantly frustrated that she couldn’t do anything around the house and that no-one could do a thing to help her.
“She really is a trooper,” Cora murmured, her mind blown at what Sarah was going through. She looked up with a beam when she heard footsteps and her two bed-headed daughters came into the kitchen in their nighties. “Morning, dozy daisies,” she said. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” Isabella said. “I’m still tired though, and it’s so late! You should’ve woken me up, Mum. I’ve got cello today, I have to get ready and I need to practise!”
“You’ve got plenty of time, babes,” Cora said. “Just have a bite to eat and relax.”
“We had a big day yesterday,” Floyd said. “You’ll be fine by tomorrow, sweetie.” He kissed Isabella’s forehead when he stood to refill the kettle, slipping his arm around Matilda for a morning hug. “Hey, Tilly. How about you? Good night?”
She yawned and nodded, sleepily hugging her father. “I need to get a red leotard,” she said in place of a greeting. “I need one for the recital and I only have a red one and a black one.”
“We can sort that out later, babes,” Cora said. “We’ll go shopping after practice. You two just need to have a bite to eat.” She stood, dropping her toast into the bin. Picking off the mould hadn’t stopped it from tasting a little off.
Lucas looked around at his family, part two. He remembered so clearly the day that he had first met Isabella, just a few hours after she had been born in that very flat, and now she was a cellist in her high school orchestra. Matilda was about to leave primary school forever, switching St Mary’s for St Matthew’s. “Crazy,” he said out loud.
“What is?” Isabella asked, looking up at him.
“How grown up you are,” he said, nodding at both of them. “Dance and cello and high school.”
Floyd chuckled. “Says the one who’s about to leave us for Cambridge.”
Lucas gave him a look. “If I get in.”
His application had made it to interview stage; his interview seemed to have gone well, and he had received an offer the following month. As long as he got three A*s when the results came out in August after the exams he was due to take in less than a couple of months, he would start his degree in English literature at the University of Cambridge in September. He just needed to get those grades.
When he was on track to get four A*s, more than they asked for, his goal seemed within reach.
*
Lucas didn’t have breakfast. Instead, he waited until Cora took the girls to their various activities and he and his father headed into town. Although the centre wasn’t too far, less than a mile away that they usually walked, the weather necessitated the car. The rain was still pounding down so hard that it bounced off the tarmac, Floyd’s windscreen wipers working tirelessly to make no difference.
“Well, this is nice,” he said with a snort, pulling into the multi-storey car park in town. “Good thing we missed this weather last week. That would’ve been miserable if it had tipped down like this when we were on the beach.”
Lucas shrugged. “It might’ve been fun,” he said. “Storms can be fun.”
“Maybe. Maybe not at the beach, though. There’s enough water already.” He grabbed a ticket before the barrier opened, pulling into the nearest spot. The weather seemed to have persuaded people to stay at home, the car park a little emptier than usual.
Town was much the same, the high street virtually abandoned as shoppers huddled in doorways and inside shops to wait for the weather to pass. Judging by the forecast, they would be waiting for a while. The rain was set to fall all week.
“Disgusting,” Floyd said as he shook off his coat when the two of them made it to Coofee. Lucas pushed off his hood, which had done little to stop his glasses getting smeared with the rain when the wind had pushed the droplets into his face.
“Looks it,” the owner, Gaia, said with a grimace, leaning on the counter and looking out of the window. She and her husband had owned the coffee shop for decades now and their children – now grown, the youngest two just a month away from thirty – helped out when they could. “What can I get you guys?”
“I’ll have an Earl Grey,” Floyd said. “Lucas? Hot chocolate?”
He nodded. He didn’t care if the drink was childish – it was his favourite. He didn’t yet have a taste for coffee and tea was too weak and flavourless: he didn’t see the point of ordering it out when as far as he was concerned, it was no more than slightly coloured hot water. “Thanks, Dad.”
“What’ll you have to eat? I think I’m going to go for the tuna melt and … ooh, one of those cookies.”
“I’ll have the ham and cheese,” Lucas said. He peeled off his raincoat and headed round the corner to find a table. That wouldn’t be difficult when the cafe was half empty. Ordinarily thriving at lunchtime on a Saturday, the rain had driven customers away.
Floyd came over a few minutes later with two steaming drinks in his hand, the hot chocolate topped with all the trimmings that Gaia had ensured wouldn’t spill over the edge. She always took extra care when she made a drink for Lucas, having known him – and his mother – since birth.
“I’m going to miss this,” Floyd said as he sat down, pushing the elaborate drink across the table.
“What?”
“Just this. You know, having lunch with you. I can’t believe my son’s almost off to university,” he said, his lips pressed together. There was a hint of a sad smile behind his eyes. “When did you do all your growing up?”
Lucas didn’t say anything to that when the answer was that for the most part, he had grown up under his mother’s watch. “Cambridge isn’t too far away, Dad. It’s only about three hours.”
“I know, I know. But I’ve got used to you being fifteen minutes away, max. I’ll have to come and visit you.” He dunked his teabag a few times, watching the water turn brown before he added a splash of milk. Lucas smiled.
“You should. That’d be nice. But I haven’t even got in yet, Dad. It all depends on these exams. If I don’t get the grades, I don’t get in.”
“I believe in you, Lucas. You’ve got one ridiculously smart head on your shoulders and you know how to reach your goals. But hey, it’s not the end of the world if you end up somewhere else.”
He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “It would be,” he said. “It’s the only place I want to go.” He had ignored all instructions and every adage, throwing all of his eggs into one basket by applying to one university, which just happened to be one of the top in the world. Though he had passed every stage so far with flying colours, there was no knowing how his exams would go.
“You’ll flourish,” Floyd said. “I think it’s going to be an amazing experience for you.” He grinned and thanked Gaia when she brought over their toasted sandwiches, cheese oozing out of Lucas’s. He opened the toastie and used his knife to push the mozzarella back inside. “How’re you feeling about it all?”
“Excited,” Lucas said. “Nervous. I don’t know what it’s going to be like being away from home. And from my friends.” And from Asher, he thought, though he didn’t add that specifically. His father already knew.
“You’ll be alright. It’s scary at first but you get used to it – remember how scared you were about going to high school? Now look at you – you’ve got Asher and Tom and you’ve met Mika and Mawar.”
“Mawar,” Lucas said, automatically correcting his father. He always got that wrong. “It rhymes with car like the vehicle, not war like the battle.”
Floyd nodded, making a mental note to remember that. “How are they all?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
For almost seven months, Lucas had been the fifth in a group of five. He wasn’t part of a couple, standing out on his own like a sore thumb when they were all together. Tom and Mika had called each other boyfriend and girlfriend ever since that October night that they had shared their first kiss; Asher and Mawar had had their first date a week later and had used the same labels by the end of their first month together.
None of them treated him any differently. They didn’t exclude him when they were together but were times that he found himself alone when both couples were busy doing something. There was the constant niggle at the back of his mind that they had each other: he was nobody’s priority. Not even his parents’: his mother couldn’t focus on anyone but the three babies growing inside her, Truman’s every spare moment occupied by his daughters who needed him more than Lucas did.
“What if I don’t make any friends at uni? What if I just end up alone and hating it?”
Floyd pursed his lips. “I think being alone and hating it are two separate things, to be honest. There’s nothing wrong with not making a ton of friends at uni. Especially for you, and at a place like Cambridge. You’re all there to learn and because you love to learn, and you’re good at it. If you do want to make a friend or two, there are plenty of like-minded people there, I bet.”
“Mmm.” Lucas cut his sandwich up with his knife and fork. He couldn’t bear to eat with his hands, hating to get great and crumbs all over his fingers. “I’ve always had Asher,” he said. The words jumped out without permission, his thoughts voicing themselves. “He’s always been with me and I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”
Floyd gave him a soft smile. “I know. It’s going to be a big adjustment. But when Audrie was at uni, you still video called her all the time, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You can do the same with Asher, can’t you? You may not be right there next to him but you don’t have to be completely cut off. And he can drive. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your friends are there for good. They’re not going anywhere.”
Lucas hoped so. He couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing Asher almost every day, the friendship that he had come to rely on in so many ways. His best friend had become the person who occupied every thought, the person who sprung to his mind when he thought about love.
“Anyway,” Floyd said, a dollop of tuna dropping onto his plate when he bit into the sandwich, “uni is for finding yourself.” He shrugged and smiled. “”Maybe you’ll even meet a guy.”
That wasn’t a thought Lucas had ever entertained. Romance had never entered his mind when he had thought about university. “I don’t intend to.”
His father shrugged. “I didn’t intend to meet your mother but look what happened. You can’t control these things.”
“But you and Mum didn’t stay together.”
Floyd laughed. He had a warm laugh, a comforting sound. “I didn’t say you need to meet the one,” he said. “I’m not saying you need to come out of uni engaged with plans to move to the city and buy a house – you don’t need to do anything at all, of course – but university is a really good time to figure yourself out and have a bit of fun. Your mum and I may not have lasted, but we had fun.”
“You had a baby,” Lucas added. “I certainly don’t want to have a baby in my second year.”
His father laughed, his eyes creasing. “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” he said, biting into his sandwich. “I just want you to have a good time, really. Whether that’s by taking advantage of the library or meeting some new people, all I care about is you being happy.”
“What if I’m not happy?” Lucas asked. It was a question that weight on his mind, the fear that he would get to this place he had dreamed of for so many years and it wouldn’t be what he had wanted it to be, that he wouldn’t fit in and he wouldn’t be happy.
“Then you come home,” Floyd said as though it was the simplest thing in the world. “There’s no point sticking with something that’s making you miserable and look, Lucas, you know you can always ring me. If you need anything, or you just need a bit of company, you can call me and I can always come down. Whatever you need.
Lucas’s cheeks warmed and he smiled, nodding to himself before he lifted his eyes to his father. “Thanks, Dad.”
*
The rain eased up by the time they left the cafe, puddles dotted around town in the aftermath of the morning’s downpour. As Lucas left the warmth, he held open the door for the couple walking in before he realised the hoods were covering Asher’s and Mawar’s faces.
“Hey!” he said with a smile. Floyd kept walking, heading to the car to give Lucas a moment to chat to his friends. He hadn’t seen them for over a week, the longest he had gone without meeting up with at least one of them.
As hard as it was for Lucas to see them together, to see how happy they were, it was harder to feel anything but love towards Mawar. She had never done a thing to hurt him and he couldn’t hold it against her that she and Asher both liked each other. They were good together.
“Lucas, hi!” Mawar cried out, pulling him into a damp hug. He was wearing his raincoat; it didn’t bother him too much. “God, it’s gross today, isn’t it?”
“Really horrible,” he said, lifting his eyes to Asher. “Hey.”
Asher smiled, his expression gentle. “Hey,” he said, holding Lucas’s gaze for a moment, his eyes as deep as they were dark. His smile widened a fraction. “How was your holiday?”
“Really good,” Lucas said. “It was great. We just got back last night.”
“Hey, if you’re around tomorrow, we should go to brunch or something,” Asher said.
“The three of us?”
Mawar shook her head. “I’m off to Indonesia for the week with my parents; we fly out tomorrow.”
“Lucky sod,” Asher added with a laugh. A bag rustled in his hand when he pushed back his hood. Lucas cast his eyes down at the supermarket plastic bag, his heart sinking a little when he caught sight of what was inside. A pink and purple box with a few easily distinguishable words visible through the plastic: Extra Thin XL – 24 pack. He averted his eyes, trying to make it a little less obvious that he had seen the condoms.
“Brunch sounds good,” he said. Just him and Asher. That would be nice. “I’ll see you then.”
“Awesome. See you!”
“Have a good time in Indonesia, Mawar,” he said. She beamed and hugged him again before she slipped into the shop.
“Have a great weekend,” Asher said. He smiled and he hugged Lucas, his embrace warm and gentle. More than just a goodbye hug, more than just the hug of a couple of friends bumping into each other in the street. Or so Lucas told himself. He hoped, that blind hope firmly lodged in the pit of his stomach.
*
There was little to do in that kind of weather but hang out and read. Lucas couldn’t face his textbooks right now, staying away from his required reading and the books he would need to read to prepare for the course he hoped he would be accepted onto. He had all summer for that. When he got home, the rain starting up again with the addition of thunder and lightning, he took old his ultimate home comfort: the copy of the first Harry Potter book, the same copy he’d had for a decade.
He read it on the sofa, lying down to turn the pages while his sisters watched a film when they got home from their various practices. Floyd started to work on cooking something for supper while Cora tidied her daughter’s bedrooms, throwing together a couple of loads of laundry for something to do on the dreary day. The five of them slipped into a comfortable routine, a sense of peace in the flat despite the raging storm outside.
The tranquillity was disrupted by a knock on the door, louder and heavier when no-one responded immediately. Cora darted over to the front door and when she opened it, it was Audrie who poured herself into the flat with her umbrella in her hand.
“Audrie, hi,” Cora said. “Are you alright?”
She nodded fiercely, a bright grin on her lips. “Is Lucas here?”
He lifted his head when he heard his name around the corner. Marking his page with his memory, he headed over to the door and Audrie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around.
“Long time no see!” she cried out.
“Hi, Audrie,” he said. “How come you’re here?”
After graduating back in July, Audrie had been a little nervous about where her life would take her but she was on her feet. She and Cooper had moved back to Farnleigh with their degrees, each spending a little time at home before they had rented a flat together in town. She didn’t live far from home, but it was somewhere she could call her own.
“Dad just called me. We need to go to the hospital – Mum had the babies.” Her grin was out of control. “We have to go.”
“She had them? Today? I thought she was supposed to have them next week?”
“Nature calls,” Audrie said with a laugh. “He said she went into labour this morning and she had a caesarean before lunch.”
“Oh my goodness.” Lucas went quiet, his eyes wide. He turned to his father and Cora, who were listening in on every word. “I need to go,” he said.
“Of course, hun,” Cora said. “How are they, Audrie? Do you know?”
“Dad said thirty fingers and thirty toes,” Audrie said. “He said they’re all fine. God, I can’t wait. Come on, Lucas. We need to go.”
He didn’t stop to collect anything, only pulling on his raincoat before he hurriedly hugged his parents and followed his sister downstairs. She ran to the car without bothering to put up her umbrella and he chased after her, almost skidding on the soaked pathway outside.
“Is Mum ok?” he asked when he got in beside Audrie, whose erratic movements slowed once she was behind the wheel, carefully reversing out of her spot.
“I think she’s about as ok as you can be six hours after you’ve had three fully grown babies yanked out of a holy in your stomach.”
Lucas grimaced at her description. “But she’s ok? You know what I mean. They’re all ok?”
Audrie grinned, almost in tears. “They’re all fine. Apparently the doctor said it was a bit of a miracle, delivering full-term triplets. Made his week, I think. God, Lucas, I’m so excited.”
“Do you know what they are? Boys or girls?”
She shook her head. Sarah had wanted to find out at her twenty week scan but the sonographer had been unable to get a clear picture when the three babies had refused to budge into an easier position. Everything had been so hectic since then that she had never found out: it would be a surprise. Before they were even born, the triplets were already surprising her at every turn.
“This is crazy,” Lucas said. “This is really crazy.”
“I know, right?” Audrie shook her head, driving carefully in the rain. The hospital wasn’t too far from Floyd’s flat, about twenty minutes on a good day, but that distance seemed so much further when the weather obscured the road. “I can’t believe there are three. I can’t believe there are eight of us.” She laughed. “Oh my God. That’s just ridiculous. It’s so ridiculous.”
*
Lucas hated hospitals but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he followed Audrie, who seemed to know exactly where they were going. She pulled him into a lift, impatient now that they were so close, and tapped her foot as she waited for the doors to close once she had hit the button for the maternity ward.
It probably only took two minutes to find it, from entering the door to locating Sarah’s room, but those two minutes felt like a lifetime. Lucas tripped over his feet when the two of them pushed through the door, his heart thudding a million miles a minute in his throat.
Sarah was lying in bed, hardly enough energy to lift her head, let alone persuade her lips into a smile or force her voice into use. Truman sat on the edge of her bed, his arm around her shoulders and his lips pressed to her forehead. There was no sight of Liliana, Felicity or Charlotte: Lucas imagined that might be a little too intense, to suddenly have the whole family in the room.
“Hey,” he said to his mother. She gave him a weak smile, struggling to return his hug when he bent over her. “How are you?”
“Dead,” she said.
“Hopped up on paid meds,” Truman said. He had tears on his eyes, dried streaks down his cheeks, and a smile on his lips. “Your mum is phenomenal.”
“I know,” Lucas said. His eyes fell on the cot beside the bed, his heart jumping to see three tiny babies wrapped in identical blankets, each wearing a white cap. “Oh my goodness. They’re really here.”
“You don’t say,” Sarah said, half laughing. She was shattered, the IV of medication the only thing keeping her from screaming out in agony. Every inch of her body felt broken, her stomach sliced open and stitched back up after her three babies had been pulled out of her like victims of a car wreck.
“They’re ok?” Lucas asked, staring at the babies. He had spent too many hours on the internet once he had heard his mother was expecting triplets, working himself up into a panic about all the things that could go wrong, every tiny risk with the pregnancy. But three babies lay in front of him, two sleeping while one stared up at him.
“They’re ok,” Truman said. “They went straight to NICU but they were given the all-clear. Combined weight of seventeen pounds and six ounces. It’s … it’s beyond amazing. We’re so lucky. We are so, so lucky.” He squeezed his wife’s hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Lucas looked over at his stepfather.
“Are they all girls?” he asked. They had spent the past couple of months shortlisting names for the babies, coming up with their top choices for every combination. Lucas had no doubt that he would soon be introduced to three more sisters: Cecelia, Alice and Rosanna. He liked the names, picturing the girls they would belong to. It was hard not to picture the three girls he lived with.
Truman stood, letting go of Sarah to introduce his youngest children to his oldest. Audrie stood so close to Lucas that their arms touched, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the babies, speechless. Three perfect, tiny little people.
Truman stroked the first baby’s cheek, on the cusp of tears again just looking down at the cot. “This is Harvey,” he said, moving to the next baby. “This is Freddie.” He picked up the third, the only one with the darkest open eyes. “And this is Julian.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. Audrie gasped. Truman laughed.
“Oh my God!” Audrie cried, hushing herself. “Three boys? They’re all boys?”
“Three boys,” her father said, swaying Julian.
“Three boys? Seriously? They’re boys?” Lucas asked. Truman nodded.
“We balanced out the family in one fell swoop,” he said, nestling his face in Julian’s dark hair and inhaling deeply. He had that intoxicating scent. Although the three were fraternal, they all looked exactly the same to Lucas. He couldn’t tell a single difference between the three babies, tiny little wrinkled things with black hair and scrunched-up noses.
“I’m afraid you’re not quite the only boy anymore,” Sarah said from her bed, where she would remain for a couple more days. After nine weeks of bedrest, she wasn’t ready to move but now there were three tiny boys who would demand her undivided attention every waking minute. The only peace she’d had was the hour that the triplets had spent in NICU before they had been given the all-clear. Full-term healthy triplets were rare and she had Truman had spent the past few months preparing themselves for the worst. They hadn’t dared to hope for the best.
“I’ll get used to it,” Lucas said. He tore his eyes from the babies to join his mother’s side. He took her hand and hugged her again. She made an effort to hug him back this time, though she winced when the effort of moving tugged at her aching skin. “Congratulations, Mum.”
“Thank you, baby,” she said.
“I think maybe this is enough kids now,” he said with a laugh. She nodded, sighing heavily.
“Trust me, there won’t be any more. I made sure of that,” she said. She had signed a form to allow the doctor to tie her tubes during the Caesarean section, which hadn’t been questioned when the triplets brought her total number of children to eight. A couple of the midwives were amazed she hadn’t had it done after Charlotte’s birth.
“When were they born?”
“I … I don’t know, to be honest. Tru? I don’t know the times.” She rubbed her forehead with her hand, looking over at her husband.
“Julian was born at eleven oh three; Freddie came out at eleven oh five, and Harvey got a bit comfortable.” He grinned at his wife, for whom it was no laughing matter, and looked at Lucas. “It took the doctor a good five minutes to get him out – he lodged himself under your mum’s ribs. He was born at eleven eleven.”
“Felt like more than five minutes,” she muttered. Although the anaesthesia had taken away the pain of the procedure, she had still been able to feel the movement in her uterus, the doctor’s hands in her body as though he had been doing the washing up inside her.
“They’re so perfect,” Audrie gushed, gazing down at her baby brothers. “They’re so freaking perfect, oh my God.”
There was a sudden flurry of noise when the door opened again and Maddie and Nick came into the room with Liliana, Felicity and Charlotte in tow. The girls had already met their brothers, their grandparents taking them downstairs to give Sarah a bit of peace. Liliana raced over to the cot, she and Felicity staring at the two sleeping babies, while Charlotte headed for Lucas instead and she hugged him. Of all her siblings, she was closest to him: he was the best at communicating with her, constantly teaching her rather than trying to oversimplify everything. At five years old, she was an inquisitive creature, desperate to understand her own language more.
“I can’t believe this is one family,” Maddie said with a laugh, looking around the room from her daughter to her son-in-law and the eight children they shared. “You just had to beat us, didn’t you?”
“My only goal in life,” Sarah wearily said. Her mother had choked on her tea when she and Truman had announced that they were having triplets. She hadn’t been able to keep it quiet for long, not when her bump had popped out a little after eight weeks and it had become impossible to hide by ten. With Lucas, she hadn’t looked pregnant until she was almost six months gone.
“Congratulations, bug,” Nick said, kissing his daughter’s forehead. “I know I’ve said that a lot but God, I can’t tell you how proud of you I am. You never fail to amaze us, Sar.” He hugged her, holding his daughter in his strong arms. “I know this is all pretty scary right now, but you are so incredibly lucky.”
“We are,” Truman said, laying Julian back down in the cot. When Charlotte reached up for his hand, he lifted her onto his hip even though she was too old for that now. She buried her face against his chest, her arms around his neck. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. “We’re so lucky.” He grazed his fingers over his wife’s hand. “I love you so much, Sarah.”
“I love you too,” she said quietly. She had lashed out at him a lot over the past few months, yelling at him for getting her pregnant when she hit a low point, thrashing out at him. He had demonstrated his immeasurable patience, letting her yell and cry at him until she exhausted herself and he soothed her.
Lucas sidled over to Audrie, who was quietly crying with joy as she looked down at the babies. One of them gripped her finger in his tiny hand and she cooed down at him.
“Audrie?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you have any idea which one’s which?” he whispered. She shook her head, laughing.
“Not a clue. I’ve got a sharpie in my bag, though,” she said. “Maybe we should label them.”
“Don’t you dare put a permanent marker anywhere near my baby,” Sarah suddenly snapped, trying and failing to prop herself up on her elbows to glare at the two schemers. “Tru, don’t let them write on the babies.”
Truman laughed. He put his hand on Audrie’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t even joke if I were you,” he said. “And that’s Harvey.”
“How are we supposed to know if this is really Harvey, though?” Audrie said. “What if you got them mixed up? How would you know?”
Truman looked up, pursing his lips. “I … good question. I guess we’d never really know.”
“Oh my God,” Audrie muttered.
Lucas laughed. He put one arm around Liliana’s shoulders and the other around Felicity when the two girls gravitated towards him, and he gazed down at his new brothers. “Welcome to a life of identity crises, little ditties.”
“What’s a ditty?” Liliana asked, tipping her head back to look up at him. Audrie rolled her eyes and laughed when she caught on.
“It’s a short song.”
+ – + – +
i hope you liked this! i had a feeling it might not get posted when i had to have a power nap at 1:45am with about 3k still left to write, but here we are! Â welcome to the last of the songs! (the encore, if you will)
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