Page 138 of Heartfelt Pain
“Dad,” Carden says. He’s the less shy of the two.
We moan under our breath. Not sweet, little noises caught in the back of our throats type of moans. More likeholy shit, kids could you give us five more minutes of sleep, please?
The boys are five and started kindergarten this year.
I never really had an opinion on motherhood. It was one of those, if it happens I think I could manage. But likewise, if it didn’t I’d have been more than happy to spend my money however I wanted.
But I can say with certainty I never expected twins. Until Roma knocked me up.
“It runs in the family?” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck at our first ultrasound. The poor technician had stayed quiet when she saw my look of horror.
Not because I don’t love my kids. Even as two tiny little beans, I felt a spark of something. Nerves, love, worry, and something likehow am I going to manage two at once?
It can still be a struggle, I’ll admit. But I love getting to know both of them.
Davis is really into cooking and it’s quite useful being able to drop him off at Russet’s. Carden has a thing going about mice and toads. Roma’s encouraging him to become a vet and hopefully, it’s his love of science that has him trapping small animals and not any psychopath tendencies.
They are quite clingy, though.
I elbow Roma off me, emphasizing the point.
Groaning, he stretches, his cock dislodging. I pull my knees into my chest, sorry for the loss and sad I have to get up.
Knowing I need to clean up, Roma wanders out of the bed. “Give us a sec, guys,” he calls out.
They keep trying to turn the doorknob anyway.
“Hellcat?” Roma asks, coming out of the bathroom where he’s quickly washed and tucked himself into sweats. He pulls the duvet back slightly, offering me a warm, wet cloth. “Are you okay?”
I nod, taking the offering. As long as he deals with the minions outside, I’m more than satisfied with the aftercare situation.
“Step back,” he orders, opening the door.
“Is Mom in there?” Davis asks.
“Move away from the door,” Roma says in an authoritative voice. As if the boys don’t already know he’s the pushover.
“When is Mom coming out?” The voices taper off as Roma steers them away.
In fifteen minutes flat, I’ve peed, showered,and brushed my teeth. I’m pulling on leggings and a crewneck. Comfy clothes for the day.
“Boys,” I holler as I come out of the bedroom. “Are your backpacks packed?”
The living room is painted a warm yellow and there are photos along the mantle. The TV is playing soccer, Carden’s favorite. Roma kisses my cheek before going back into the room to get ready for the day.
“We need to leave in the next thirty minutes,” I tell them. They’ve got bowls of cereal, but we will stop for snacks. It’s road trip rules.
“If we leave now,” Davis says, “we can get there in exactly three hours.”
“If we leave in two hours,” Carden replies, “it’ll still only take us three hours to get there.”
“Go change,” I tell them. “Were you planning on wearing your pj’s?”
“It’s called comfy clothes for the car,” Carden grumbles.
He’s the one I’m most worried about when we get to the teen years, but Roma assures me Davis is the one we need to watch out for.
There are a lot of last-minute instructions: go to the bathroom, grab your tablets, no hamsters allowed in the car.
