Chapter 6
Of course I want to be happy. Who doesn’t want to be happy?
Buffy sat in the living room, under a blanket as the fireplace burned. She looked towards the Christmas tree, deep in thought until she heard a tiny cough.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, Jamie?”
He climbed on the sofa and wiggled his way into her lap. Like Sarah and Joy, he was dressed for bed in a set of pajamas and matching slippers. Hugged against his chest was a white oversized book.
“What do you have there, honey?” Buffy whispered, experimenting with the term of endearment. She knew William couldn’t overhear her words as he washed their dishes from dinner, but she was still nervous, wondering if it would feel natural on her tongue. “Can I see, sweetie?”
“It’s the photo album,” he answered, mimicking her soft voice.
“Do you like looking at the pictures?”
He nodded, leaning his back comfortably against Buffy’s chest. “Daddy said we should look at it together.”
“Did he?” she asked, looking over her shoulder to find William still at the sink. “Well, that sounds like a good idea.”
“Wait! Wait for me!” Sarah’s slippers pounded down the stairs and she scrambled to her favorite spot, nuzzling Buffy’s side. She slipped under the blanket and peeked over her arm. “I want to look too, mommy.”
Drops of moisture gathered in Buffy’s eyes, and she blinked them away, not sure why they had appeared. She quietly cleared her throat and opened the book.
***
Buffy hoped the kids didn’t notice her trembling fingers. She tried to keep her cool, but felt more overwhelmed with each turn of the page. The album started with their honeymoon. Buffy saw herself barefoot on a beach, smiling as she clung to her new, sun-burnt husband. Snapshots from other vacations acted as filler until she noticed images of her growing belly. The house that she was currently sitting in was nearly empty and it acted as the backdrop to the grins and frowns that she made for the camera.
“You were royally pissed off when we moved in. Apparently when you’re pregnant with twins, the last thing that you want to do is move into a new house.”
“But we didn’t have a choice,” William continued from over Buffy’s shoulder. “My apartment could barely hold the two of us.”
“I moved in with you?”
“Well, I did refuse to move in with you and Captain Cardboard. Thought it’d get a little cramped.”
“Funny,” she said, looking up to give him a glare. By the time she raised her head, he was already moving to sit on the couch.
“Mind if I take your spot, my princess?” He gave Sarah a charming wink before picking her up, sitting next to Buffy and cradling the toddler in his arms. “What you waiting for? Turn the page. These are my most favorite photos, you know.”
“When I’m as big as a beached whale?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, you might’ve looked adorable with the waddle and heaving bosom, but underneath it all, you were one moody pregnant woman. You think we fought today? God, we nearly had a divorce with the twins and when you were carrying Joy I believe a call to a lawyer was made.”
“If I was that hard to live with, why were we trying again?”
“What does a lot of stupid fights equal?” He didn’t wait for Buffy to come up with an answer before whispering in her ear. “Lots and lots of make-up sex.”
“Oh, now that’s a valid reason to bring another life into the world.”
“Isn’t it?”
Buffy snorted, turning the page. The next pictures were of her exhausted form with two prune-y newborn babies. From that point, a quarter of the album was of Jamie and Sarah. Birthdays and other holidays were the most common moments captured on film.
“It’s hard to tell, but that’s Jamie taking his first step… There’s Sarah after she saw her first giraffe at the zoo.”
“She looks terrified.”
“She was. We still avoid the giraffe exhibit to this day. It’s the neck, she says. Oh, and that,” he reached across Buffy’s body to point at another photograph, “that’s when we had a road trip to the Grand Canyon. It was boring as hell; the kids can’t remember a lick of it. The best part was that it gave us our Joy.”
“It did what? Oh, God, never mind.”
William chuckled and he continued to narrate the rest of the photo album from Joy’s birth to the Thanksgiving that they celebrated a month earlier.
“And that’s the end.”
“It is,” he said.
“It’s too bad I forgot all that stuff.”
“It is. It’s a bloody shame.”
“Should we put the kids to bed? I’m not even sure when they fell asleep.”
“They’re just resting up for tomorrow, love. They won’t want to sleep tomorrow night ‘cause they’ll miss taking a peep at the man in red. Then on Christmas morning, God, I have no idea when they’ll get us up. It’s been getting earlier and earlier each year. And about tomorrow night, I may have to ask you for a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Buffy asked, trying to hold Jamie as she extracted herself from the couch.
“Santa’s bringing them a…swing set,” he whispered. “We decided to have it put together before they wake on Christmas.”
“You’re going to put it together in dark?”
He nodded, and Buffy followed him upstairs. “You’ll need to hold the flashlight for me. It shouldn’t take long, an hour or two should do it.”
“So, you’re, ah, good at putting stuff together? Do you follow the instructions?”
“I do my best.” He lowered Sarah carefully onto her bed and tucked the sheets around her dozing body. “Goodnight, lamb,” he mumbled, kissing her temple.
“I don’t know about this, William. You shouldn’t hammer things in the dark.”
“Afraid I’ll whack my thumb?”
“Well…yes, among other things.”
“Don’t worry. I looked at the box. I’ll need a screwdriver, not a hammer.”
“But still…”
“I appreciate the concern, pet, but really, nothing’ll happen.”
“Oh, now you’ve jinxed it.”
“You really worried about me?”
Buffy’s mouth straightened to a line and she put Jamie to bed. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“It was your idea.”
“I’m sure it was,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.
“It was.” He bent to say goodnight to Jamie and ushered Buffy out of the room with a hand on her elbow. “I can do it, but if you’re really against it…”
“No, never mind. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t explain why the thought of him getting hurt sent a chill through her body.
“I promise to be extra careful.”
She nodded again. “So, it’s, um, eight… Is it our bedtime, too? I know you were tired, but--.”
“But what? Want to do something? We can’t leave the house… We can watch TV or play a video game—a, a board game. I hate to admit it, but all of our sources of entertainment have been kid-tested and—you want to just talk?”
“William, you wouldn’t happen to still have that flask, would you? Maybe some bourbon?”
***
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Since this is a short chapter, I'll make you all an offer: if I get at least 25 comments on this chapter, you will get the next chapter tomorrow (it'll be my first time actually posting on the promised Thursday instead of the night before).
Yes, this is a shameless scam to get more comments. The decline is really making me sad people. It doesn't even have to be good reviews and you can review more than once if you want. I just want to know if you like it, you know?
~~Jennifer
Yes, this is a shameless scam to get more comments. The decline is really making me sad people. It doesn't even have to be good reviews and you can review more than once if you want. I just want to know if you like it, you know?
~~Jennifer