It was her therapist’s idea and I supported her no matter what she chose.
Small fact I did not know: that pendant contained some of both Maggie and Eric’s ashes, which is why she clung to it. Even though that did creep me out a little—sorry, I’m only human—I understood her desire to have it. The pendant didn’t go far, though; it sits in a fireproof case in her nightstand.
We also flew to Boston—with me heavily sedated—after the engagement, so she could tell Eric in person and talk with him about it.
It was emotional as hell, and even I got in on the action by asking his permission to take his wife as my own. I half-expected him to reach out from beyond the grave and grip my balls in a vise, but he didn’t.
He was very understanding.
At least that’s what Katie said when I told her my concerns.
So I married her and we ended up buying the house I was renting because it’s an awesome house with a good-sized backyard and has three bedrooms, which we’re going to need very, very soon.
My software hit the market and my company has grown exponentially. I put Luke in charge of its release, including dealing with the press. When our company makes a public statement, it comes from him. We have some of the biggest corporations in the world as our clients, and I’ve even had to occupy an entire building since we now have over two thousand employees and are still growing with a shit-ton of hardware to house.
Luke and I also single-handedly saved Tommy’s company.
He had been hacked hard and didn’t even notice it.
Loser.
We still don’t know who was behind it, and that’s a bit of a concern. But we fixed it and locked his shit down with my new, very expensive software, and since then, he’s been good. So good in fact, that the measly twenty percent he gave Luke and me is now worth a quarter of a billion dollars.
And that’s not even cracking the shell of what my company is pulling in.
But none of that means anything without Katie and our family that’s about to begin.
She’s my world, they’re my world, and I’ve never been happier or felt more complete in my life.
Adding to that, my brother Kyle, my newest corporate lawyer, moved out here around the time Katie and I found out we were expecting twins. Unfortunately, I think he’s got a thing for my little redheaded assistant, but I’m not going there right now.
I pull into the emergency room turnaround, slam the car to a stop and press that stupid parking button. Racing around to the other side, I yank open the door. Katie can barely walk or move, that’s how much pain she’s in.
Thankfully, a doctor taking a smoke break outside—really?—comes to our aid and grabs a wheelchair. The security guard runs over, yelling at me to move my car, but I toss him the keys and tell him that either he can have it towed or I’ll give him a hundred dollars right now to park it for me.
He shuts up and gets in the car.
Like there was any chance I was leaving my wife right now.
“Take me upstairs,” Katie is yelling and crying. “I don’t want to deliver where I work.”
“Kate, you’re delivering these babies now,” Dr. Clarkson, her boss and chief of the ED, says. “You’re fully dilated, and I’m afraid if I try to bring you up, you’ll deliver in the elevator.”
“This is so humiliating,” Katie covers her face in between contractions as she props herself up on the gurney in the trauma room. “Everyone I work with is going to not only know what my vagina looks like, but what the inside of it looks like as well.”
“Then they’ll all be jealous it’s not theirs,” I add, running a hand down her sweaty blonde head.
She looks up at me with wide, tired eyes. “They will, won’t they?” God, I love her.
“Okay, Kate, I feel a contraction coming.” Dr. Clarkson is shielded head to toe in protective gear like she’s going into a hazmat situation, and is poised at the foot of the gurney between Katie’s open legs. We’ve also got two nurses in here who are friends of Katie’s, so it’s all good. “Get ready to push, Kate, we’ve only got a small window to get these babies out. I’ve got the NICU on standby and Peds is on their way down.”
Katie nods, looking up to me quickly with tears glassing-over her beautiful eyes.
“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart.” I lean down to kiss her forehead.
Katie cries out, and Clarkson yells push, and then everything goes into fast motion. More doctors and nurses come rolling in with machines and incubators, all wearing masks and hats.
I’m suddenly terrified.
I need my babies to be okay. I need my Katie to be okay.
I position my body behind hers, helping her to sit up to better improve her pushing angle or some bullshit like that, and I hold her to me, vowing never to let go.
Katie screams and yells, and seconds later, the smallest slimiest human being I’ve ever seen is pulled from her. The baby is a gray-bluish color, and before I know what’s happening, everyone is rushing around again. The baby—whose gender I couldn’t even see—was passed off to the doctors in masks with machines.
“Is it breathing? Oh god, I can’t hear it,” Katie cries out.
“It’s a boy, Kate. You have a son,” Dr. Clarkson says calmly, looking both of us in the eye in turn.
I sob and so does Katie, my body covering hers as we embrace. I’m shaking and crying like I never have before, so completely overwhelmed by everything. We whisper words of love to each other.
I have a son, but the fact that he’s not crying and has six people working on him is not good.
“What’s going on?” Katie yells out, trying to see around the doctors. So am I, but I’m being held back by someone who tells me I have to let them work. I’m about to pummel the rather large woman when a small pissed off wail pierces the chaos, and everyone freezes before they sigh in relief.
“Five minute Apgar is seven, Kate,” one of the doctors says to her. “He looks good. His weight is excellent for a thirty-four weeker.”
“That’s because he’s got a large penis like his father,” I whisper to Katie, but apparently not quietly enough because others around us laugh. She smacks at me playfully before arching her back and crying out in another contraction.
“You’re at ten centimeters again, Kate. You ready to push out baby number two?” Clarkson asks.
She nods as tears stream down her face.
“You’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much,” I whisper into her ear, watching the doctors continue to work on our son.
“Push, Kate. Now,” Clarkson demands and Kate complies, but the baby doesn’t come out as quickly as the last one did. It takes her three more contractions and three pushes with each one before our little girl comes out.
Unlike with our son, she cries instantly, and so does Katie as she whispers something about giving Maggie siblings. I can’t begin to imagine just how emotional this moment is for her.
Both an extreme high and extreme low.
A few minutes later, our perfect babies are placed on Katie’s chest, and both immediately latch onto her beautiful full breasts—who can blame them really?
The staff gives us privacy for a few minutes now that our son seems to be out of the woods, but they’re still taking both of them up to the NICU for a few days at least.