Forever mason, p.30
Forever Mason, page 30
Katelyn settles in the recliner with Elle, and I relax on the couch with Peyton. I have my shirt off, and she’s only wearing a diaper. I read that this type of bonding is essential, especially since I can’t feed them right now. I keep a light blanket over her back even though her body temperature feels normal. I thought the girls showed me a new level of love when they were born but holding Peyton like this gives love a whole new definition. Katelyn hands Elle to me while she goes to use the bathroom. I undress Elle and lay her next to her sister. They gravitate toward each other, showing me that they’ll have an unbreakable bond their entire lives.
Elle fuses. I rub my hand down her back and tell her everything will be okay. “Everything will always be okay because I’ve got you, and so does your mommy. She’s never going to let you down. She’s pretty extraordinary. You girls are lucky to have her. I can’t wait to take you to school with me. All the teachers are excited to meet you and so are the kids from the football team. They’re all your big brothers, and that’s all they’ll ever be—big brothers—because you don’t want to date someone who plays football. Boys are stinky, and football players are the worst. But football is my favorite sport, and you’re going to grow up around it, so I hope you learn about the game. I don’t know how I feel about you girls playing football, but maybe I can change my mind if one of you wants to play. I guess we’ll see when the time comes.”
Katelyn returns and crawls next to me. “I heard everything you said to them. You know, we could try for a boy in a couple of years.”
I glance down at their dark hair and shake my head. “We’ll see.”
Forty-Two
For the past few months, all I’ve heard is, “I can’t wait for the girls’ first Christmas.” My mom, Katelyn, and Josie have gone on and on about how special this Christmas is going to be . . . that is until now. Now that the tree is up and there are presents under the tree, all I hear is, “No, Elle,” and “No, Peyton.”
No.
No.
No.
This word is said so much. The girls crawl around saying it. Not mama or dada. My precious, sweet angels say no. I’m beyond thrilled, of course. I mean, who wouldn’t be. Every baby's first words should be no.
“Do you love daddy?”
“No”
“Do you love mommy?”
“No”
However, if I ask either of them if they’re cute, they also say no. So, it’s a win-win in some abstract way, I suppose.
Noah thinks it’s funny. Nick says the girls are advanced for their age. Katelyn is beside herself, thinking she’s failed as a parent. If she’s failed, then I definitely have. And my parents stand in the corner and giggle, muttering something about payback.
Katelyn comes into the living room. I mute the television and wait for her to set the girls down. Peyton’s arms reach for me while Elle clings to her mom. The girls definitely have their favorites. It’s like one girl for each of us.
Peyton stands on my legs, bouncing up and down while drooling buckets, and making the cutest baby sounds. Her tiny hands are on my cheeks, and she keeps trying to bite me. Every time I move away from her shark teeth, she squeals and takes this as a challenge. Teething is fun.
“Can you take Elle? I’m going to be late.” It’s Saturday, Katelyn’s day at Whimsicality. She’s not really going to be late because Josie hasn’t dropped Noah off yet, but Katelyn worries a lot when it comes to helping Josie out. The shop is busy. It doesn’t matter if nothing is going on in town or if the holidays are over, people come in and buy. Josie was so smart for opening when she did.
Without trying to interrupt Peyton’s playtime on Daddy, I reach for Elle. Once I have her in my hands, she starts to whine until I fly her through the air. The girls are like night and day. Peyton is happy all the time, talks to anyone who wants to listen to her gibberish, and is happy to be held by anyone. Elle is moody, only wants to talk to her mommy and sometimes her daddy, but doesn’t want anyone to hold her. However, wherever Peyton is, Elle wants to be, but only on her terms.
With Elle sitting on one leg, I adjust Peyton to the other. I don’t make her stop the assault on my face. It makes her happy, and believe me when I say this, there is nothing better than baby giggles. I turn the television volume up and flip the channel to Sesame Street. This gets Peyton’s attention. She doesn’t sit, though. Instead, she leans into me and keeps her hand on my cheek. Elle fusses because she doesn’t like the Cookie Monster, and Peyton grunts at her. This seems to be their thing. If Elle isn’t happy, Peyton isn’t happy with Elle, and she lets her sister know about it. Peyton gives Elle a wicked side-eye when she cries unless Peyton thinks her sister needs something and she soothes her. The twin thing is freaky. I don’t understand it and I know I’m not meant to.
During a commercial break, I set them down in their playpen, much to Elle’s disapproval. Peyton agrees with her this time and cries out even though I’ve told them I’ll be right back with breakfast, but they don’t care. In the kitchen, I pour Cheerios into two bowls, fix their juice bottles, and grab a couple of bananas that we’ll share. Since they started eating solids, we share everything they’re allowed to eat.
“Okay, Daddy’s back,” I say when I get back to the living room. I roll out their playmat and set their breakfast down. Katelyn doesn’t like it when I do this, but it’s Saturday, and not everything needs to be so structured. Sometimes, the girls need a little freedom, and if that means we eat breakfast on the floor while watching cartoons one day a week, so be it.
The front door opens, and Noah walks in. “Morning,” he says as he takes his coat off and goes right to the babies. With him here, I catch Katelyn before she heads out the door. I kiss her goodbye and rush off to use the bathroom. Noah is amazing with the girls especially given their five-year age difference. I didn’t think he’d really bother with them or find them a nuisance, but it’s the opposite, and the girls love him. He lets them climb all over him, pull his hair, steal his food, and do whatever they want. The best part, in an hour or so when it’s time to take a nap, he’ll lie down, and they’ll lay on top of him.
“Did you eat, bud?” I ask when I get back to the living room.
“Nah, mom overslept.”
I head back to the kitchen and make Noah’s breakfast. It’s similar to the twins’, but his cereal will have milk. When I get back to the living room, he has them on their playmat, playing with cars.
“All right, let’s eat.” I sit down and put a bowl of Cheerios in front of each girl and open my banana. After one bite, both girls are heading in my direction to get theirs. Peyton crawls toward me with cereal in her hand. She sits back on her knees and opens her little hand to show me her offering. I take it and then give her a small piece of the fruit. The girls like to try and bite off their own piece, but they haven’t figured out that they can get a piece if they bite hard enough, like when they bite us. It’s an ongoing battle of telling them not to bite but then encouraging it. It must be so confusing to be a baby.
After breakfast, with Noah here to watch the girls, it gives me time to clean up, take one at a time to get a diaper change, and make sure their hands and face are clean. Then I make their bottles because it’s almost naptime.
With their bottles in hand, I sit down on the couch and wait. Elle uses Noah as a jungle gym to get to me. When she settles in the crook of my arm, I lay her blanket over her. Peyton’s too busy to care about naptime, although I can see the tiredness creeping in. If Noah moves her toys, she fusses at him and starts rubbing her eyes. She’d rather play, at least with Noah, than take a nap.
“Bud, do you want to sit on the couch with her?”
He nods, scoops Peyton up, even though she doesn’t want him to, and sets her on the couch. He then situates himself so Peyton can’t roll off. I hand him her bottle, but she intercepts it and sticks it in her mouth. She sits there for a minute or two, watching TV and drinking before she finally lays down, using Noah’s leg as a pillow. He doesn’t seem to care.
I flip the channel to football, and now it’s a guy’s morning. We have a full day of watching games, eating junk food, and playing with the girls. When Notre Dame’s coach comes on the screen, Noah perks up.
“He’s going to be my coach.”
“You’re only six, bud. You have a long time to figure out where you want to go.”
“I know, but Holtz wins a lot of games.”
“Beaumont wins a lot of games. Are you going to play for me?”
Noah nods. “Starting QB all four years.”
Just like your dad.
Noah’s a natural when it comes to football, but he’s also very good at baseball. Last year, Nick gave him a mitt and taught him how to throw. Within weeks, he fired a fastball into Nick’s glove. Noah has his mother’s grace and his father’s talent. And honestly, it scares us all. We see a lot of Liam in him, and while we don’t want to discourage him in any way, there’s a nagging voice in our heads telling us to steer him in any direction other than the path his dad took. It’s only a matter of time when someone brings Liam Westbury up to Noah, and it’s a day, I fear. I’ve begged Josie to tell Noah about Liam, but she won’t. She thinks no one knows he’s Liam’s son, and I say that everyone does. When the truth comes out, if it’s not from Josie, Noah will resent her, and that’s the last thing I want to happen to either of them.
At some point in the middle of the night, the girls end up in our bed. I don’t remember them crying or Katelyn going to get them. But here they are, and here we are with feet in our face and barely any room. I don’t know how two pint-sized humans can take up so much space.
I yawn, stretch, and when I open my eyes, my wife is staring at me. I roll onto my side and tuck my arm under my pillow. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” she says and then yawns.
“What time did they get up?”
“Three hours ago. Elle had a bad dream, and when I went to get her, Peyton was glaring at her. So, I brought them both in here.”
“She probably dreamed that Santa didn’t bring her anything because of her sunny disposition on life.”
Katelyn laughs. In a sense, it is funny that Elle acts like she hates life, but her attitude scares me. I don’t know if I’m prepared for a teenage Elle. Or even a preteen one.
I scoot over, trying to get as close to Katelyn as I can. She does the same and reaches for my hand. “This is the first Christmas since we’ve been together that we haven’t exchanged presents. I’m not sure how I feel about this.”
“I know, but money’s tight, and I want to make sure the girls have a good Christmas.”
“They won’t remember this one. It’s more for us than them. Their grandparents spoil them. Who is going to spoil you?”
“You do, every day, with how much you love me.” Katelyn rises onto her arm, leans over, and kisses me. I’d love to deepen this and make love to my wife on Christmas morning, but these munchkins make it impossible sometimes. Katelyn and I are back to sneaking around and having sex wherever we can. We’ve mastered the art of being quick and quiet, and we rejoice when my parents volunteer to take the girls to the store. And like usual, my mom gives me a warning shot about unprotected sex, reminding me that Katelyn and I don’t need any more babies right now. Not that Katelyn is even thinking of getting pregnant. I honestly think she’s content with the twins and also fearful we’d have another set.
“What do you think about taking the girls to Disney for their sixth birthday?”
“I don’t like rides. You know this,” Katelyn says.
“I know, but they’ll be kiddie rides. Nothing scary, I promise.”
Katelyn looks at the girls and nods. “I think they’d like that.”
“It’ll be our first family vacation. The four of us, in the land of magic.”
“As long as the Cookie Monster isn’t there.” Katelyn laughs. “I can’t imagine what kind of tantrum Elle would throw.”
“She’s going to be a handful.”
“Going to be?” Katelyn pops her eyebrow. “She scares me, Mason. She’s me on my worst day times ten.”
I laugh, but Katelyn’s right. “She’ll grow out of it.” I have a feeling I’m lying to myself.
The girls start to stir. First, Peyton, who happily takes all the morning kisses and snuggles before her sister wakes up, and then my little miss grumpy pants finally opens her eyes. She molds herself to her mother and ignores the rest of us.
When I tell them Santa came, Peyton claps even though she has no idea who Santa is, and when we took them to the mall, he scared the ever-loving shit out of them. Still, being parents, we did exactly what every parent has done and made sure to get a picture of a very horrified man in a Santa suit, holding two screaming babies. We’re horrible people.
We get out of bed and make our way downstairs. The tree is lit, Christmas music plays, and my parents sit on the couch together, drinking coffee. As soon as my mom sees Peyton, she stands and reaches out to take her granddaughter. She then waits for Elle, who happily goes to her grandma. My mom shows them the tree, much like she’s done over and over again since we put it up. Once Katelyn and I have our coffee and we’ve made the girls their bottles, we gather in the living room.
My dad puts on a Santa hat and hands out one present at a time. At this rate, it will take four hours for us to open all the gifts, but I think that’s the idea. My parents want to prolong the day because we aren’t due at the Prestons’ until later.
Next year, things will be different. Katelyn and I have enough saved to put a down payment on a house. We’ve found a few that we’ll go and see tomorrow and hopefully move into our own place in a few months. The thought of leaving my parents’ place makes me sad, but I like the idea of finally living with my wife without any other adults around. It’s weird to think that we’ve never actually lived with just each other after all these years.
Forty-Three
The directions on the box seem easy enough. Two cups of the pancake mix, add some milk and a couple of eggs, and then turn on . . . and silently curse. Spitting out the powdery substance coating my face, I take in the mess on the cupboard in front of me, and the counter and set the mixer aside. I blame my thumb for moving the red speed dial to five when I meant for it to stay on one.
Behind me, laughter rings out. I turn and find the three loves of my life standing behind me. The twins are giggling with my beautiful and sexy wife, Katelyn, right in the middle. She’s dressed in dark jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, while Peyton and Elle wear matching dresses, just in different colors. Peyton doesn’t have a preference, but Elle. . . if it’s not pink, she’s not wearing it.
“Daddy, dirty,” Peyton says as she points at me. She’s right. Although I can’t see myself, I can feel the wet, pasty batter sticking to my skin.
“You made a mess!” Elle exclaims loudly, just in case her sister and mother hadn’t put the scene in front of them together.
“What happened?” Katelyn asks. She seems concerned but does not attempt to come toward me and offer me any aid whatsoever.
“My thumb slipped on the mixer.”
Katelyn covers her laugh, but not until after she snorts. She makes cooking look so easy and seamless; I don’t get it. We both took home economics. I passed the class and didn’t even cheat or have her do my homework for me. So, why is cooking so difficult for me?
My wife sets the girls down at the table and then comes over to me. She gently moves me away from the mess I created and tells me to go clean up. When I get to the bathroom, I have to traverse through bath toys and step stools until I can get to the sink to wash my face. It takes a couple of good washings until I’ve removed all the batter. I even found some behind my ear, which doesn’t make sense. How does the batter manage to get everywhere?
Back in the kitchen, the girls are eating cereal, something I wanted to avoid on their first day of preschool, hence attempting to make pancakes to make it a little special. I kiss Katelyn on the cheek and thank her for cleaning up my mess, and then I go to sit with the girls. I’m not excited about today, and that’s probably why I malfunctioned when it came to making them pancakes.
I have a lot of apprehensions about them going to school. First, they’re only three, and while advanced for their age (because hello, their mother is perfect), I think they’re too young. Second, as Peyton puts it, they’re going to big kid school, meaning they’ll be in the same building as kids that are five to seven years older than them. I don’t worry about the younger kids because I think Elle can handle them. Granted, the school keeps the little tykes away from the bigger kids, but I remember asking to use the “bathroom” only to end up wandering the halls. As long as you have the magic bathroom pass, teachers never take a second look at you. Third, they’re my babies, and while it makes financial sense for them to go to school because this allows Katelyn to pick up more hours at the bank, I don’t like it. I’d rather eat spaghetti every day for weeks on end than have them at school right now. And fourth, I feel like if they start school, then they’re going up too fast. I’m not ready for them not to need me.
Katelyn argues that we need the extra money. When we bought this house, right after the girls’ first Christmas, it was with the idea that we’d expand. The only “construction” I’ve done on this place is down in the basement. When we moved in, it was concrete walls and floorings. With my dad’s help, we’ve added insulation and walls and installed new flooring. We ran electricity and plumbing, which gave us a laundry room, and then I converted a portion of the downstairs space into what I call the “Doghouse.” It’s where I go when Katelyn’s had enough of me. She wasn’t impressed when I actually made the wall look like the outside of a doghouse, but I thought it was funny. This is where Nick, Peyton, and I hang out and watch football.
Peyton’s my little tomboy. She’s going to be the first female NFL coach. I know she’s only three, but she’s a sponge and listens to everything I tell her. Last season, she came to every practice and sat on the bench, barking orders to the boys. The funny thing is, the boys did exactly what she told them, even when it was wrong because they love her. The twins have fifty awesome brothers looking after them.
