Page 35 of Return
“Tell me my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest.
Shamus looked up and smiled.
Sylvia’s head snapped up.
Slowly, the rest of the family turned, taking in the sight of Sophie and Liam together, standing close, fingers intertwined.
Aunt Nan was the first to move. She strode forward, cupped Sophie’s cheek in one hand, and Liam’s in the other. “About time too. You feckin’ eejits,” she said, her eyes misty, and voice ready to crack. “This family needed some good news.”
A small, teary-eyed sigh rippled through the group, a tiny moment of warmth cutting through the worry. And for a moment, hope filled the room.
The waiting room was a suffocating mix of silence and restless movement. Sylvia hadn’t stopped praying the rosary for even a moment while Shamus paced back and forth.
Then the door swung open.
A nurse stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, eyes scanning the room.
“The O’Brian family?” she asked, her voice steady, professional.
The room stilled. No one breathed.
The nurse didn’t rush, didn’t soften. She gave nothing away. Her face was an impenetrable mask as she stepped forward and clasped her hands. And then she said it. “Mother and babies are doing just fine.”
For a beat, no one moved. No one spoke. Had she really said what she just said? Darcie and the twins were all fine? Sylvia collapsed into her chair, whispering a prayer of gratitude.
The room exploded with a collective breath of relief. Darcie was alive. The babies were safe.
Of course, everyone wanted to rush in at once, but the stone-faced nurse put a firm stop to that. Only a few visitors at a time. Sophie squeezed Liam’s hand and nodded toward the exit. She needed to call her brother and tell him the good news!
It had been a whole of thirty-five seconds from the waiting room to Darcie’s but they were the longest seconds in the world to the happy grandparents. Henry and Sylvia moved carefully, but their excitement was impossible to contain. They pushed open the door with more restraint than they felt, stepping inside as though they were entering sacred ground. And in a way, they were.
Darcie lay in the hospital bed, looking pale and utterly exhausted, but her smile was the brightest thing in the room. Connor was perched beside her with one arm around her shoulders while his other hand laid over one of the tiny babies she held in her arms. He pressed a soft kiss to his wife’s forehead. His expression so full of love that it stole Sylvia’s breath.
Connor looked up as they entered, his voice quiet but brimming with warmth. “Come in. Would you like to meet your granddaughter and grandson?”
Sylvia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “One of each?”
Not able to contain his excitement, Henry let out a joyous, disbelieving laugh, but before he woke up the sleeping babies, he lowered his voice.
They approached the bed reverently. Henry’s eyes went straight to the little girl, while Sylvia reached instinctively for the boy. They were both so small and so perfect.
Sylvia ran her fingers over the baby’s tiny hand. “What is your name, my precious?” she cooed.
Darcie and Connor exchanged a look, something deep and knowing passing between them. Then Connor cleared his throat. “We wanted to name them after the people who mean the most to us,” he said. “But that meant… well, we’ll sort out nicknames later.”
Darcie smiled down at her red-haired daughter in her pink cap and adjusted the blanket gently. “This is Sylvia Sondra Nanette O’Brian. And this,” she nodded toward the dark-haired baby boy in a blue cap, “is Henry Simon Shamus O’Brian.”
With Darcie’s say so, Connor lifted his daughter from her arms and handed her over to Henry, then handed his son to Sylvia.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then Henry let out a choked breath, and Sylvia’s eyes shimmered with tears as she tried desperately not to break down.
“You named them after us?” Henry whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
Connor and Darcie both nodded.
“I wouldn’t be here without you and neither would they. You’re as much a part of them as we are,” Darcie said.
Sylvia let out a half-laugh, half-sob, clutching her grandson to her chest.
