Expectations

[shmeep]

Expectations
Chapter 16

“Perfect Friday,” Marty said, sounding like he had just stuffed his mouth with a sizable bite of pizza. “That’s the way to do it.”

They almost never had a chance to take their lunches together, but the case the four of them had been working for a week had suddenly been cleared by a stroke of genius on Karen’s part and they found themselves together at a pizzeria for lunch, celebrating.

“So, babies are coming soon now, aren’t they, Jim?” Tom asked.

Jim shrugged, his face forming the expression of feigned nonchalance he sometimes adopted for comedic purposes. “Oh, they were born a week ago. Healthy. No complications.”

“What?” Tom asked, his voice going shrill. “Are you serious?”

Jim set his pizza down on his plate and faced Tom. “No.”

Marty howled with laughter. “It never gets old!”

“Does the boss know when you’re going to take your leave?” Karen asked Jim.

“How can the boss know if I don’t even know?” Jim counter-questioned.

“She’s how far along now?”

Jim paused to think about it for a moment and was startled when Marty beat him to the answer.

“Thirty-six weeks, isn’t she, Jim?”

“Just about.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Tom cleared his throat. “Why do you know that, Marty?” he asked.

“I-I just…do.”

Jim turned his face away, smiling to himself. The others were bound to find out about Marty and Shannon before too long, but until they did, Jim was enjoying being the only person to know why Marty knew so much about the Dunbars.

“They could come at any time, then,” Karen said.

Jim nodded. “They’re almost full term for twins. Last week we were told they’re already well over six pounds each.”

Karen groaned. “Poor Christie!”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “But it’s really good. We were afraid they’d come early.”

“What are you up to this weekend, Marty?” Karen asked.

“I have Jordan, so I’m going to introduce him to Sha-to the girl I’ve been seeing.”

Jim lifted his head and turned toward Marty. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Jim said, keeping his voice bland. “You meet her at church?”

Marty set his drink down hard on the table, but Jim guessed he was trying not to smile. “You love this, don’t you, Jim?”

Jim blinked. “I do?”

“What’s going on?” Karen asked.

“Nothing is going on,” Marty insisted.

They were just heading out when Jim’s cell rang. Christie’s ring.

“Yeah?” he asked, sucking in the thrill of panic that hit whenever he heard her ring coming through his phone these days.

She was talking fast, saying things that couldn’t quite register all at once. Jim stopped walking and stood on the sidewalk, vaguely aware that the others were stopped beside him.

“How far apart are they?” he finally broke in to ask.

“I don’t know,” Christie said, sounding like she was trying not to cry. “I’ve been having contractions for several hours, but I thought I still had a lot of time. But now they’re pretty close together and Cara isn’t home and I-I don’t know how I’m going to get there. I guess I can take a cab, but…”

“We’re not too far away,” Jim said.

“I’ll take you, Jim,” Marty offered. “You might need help getting her down to the car with all her stuff.”

“I can do it, Marty,” Karen broke in. “You’re not going to be carrying her.”

“Let’s just all get over there and make sure everything is under control,” Tom said calmly. “Or does she need an ambulance?”

“Do you need an ambulance?” Jim asked Christie. “Or can you wait five minutes for us to get there?”

“I can wait. But hurry!”

She didn’t need to tell him to hurry. Nearly running, Tom and Marty went for Marty’s car while Jim got in with Karen. Sirens on, they tore through the streets, pulling up in front of Jim’s building within minutes.

“I’ll run up and get her,” Marty said, approaching Karen’s double-parked car as Jim was opening the door.

“I’m going up,” Jim said.

“Fine. Fine. Just leave Hank and I’ll take you. It’ll be quicker.”

“It’ll only be quicker if you don’t bash him into anything!” Karen called after them.

But Marty already had Jim up the steps and through the front door before Jim could even start to worry about being bashed. He didn’t think of how strange it was to be holding onto Marty’s arm, although it struck him later that Marty didn’t seem to be thinking about it either. By the time they reached his floor, he broke free of Marty altogether and ran straight to his own door, propelled by some instinct that only kicked in when he wasn’t thinking about it.

“Christie!” he called, unlocking the door and rushing inside. “Christie!”

“That was fast!” she said, her voice coming from the living room. “Marty! What are you doing here?”

“We’re taking you to the hospital,” Marty said. “Where’s your stuff?”

Being where he needed to be and knowing he wasn’t going to be missing out on this moment calmed Jim, making him smile because Marty seemed more panicked than he was all of a sudden.

“Were those sirens for me?” Christie asked.

Jim had reached her and was beside her on the couch, his arms around her. “Of course,” he answered. “You okay?”

She sighed. “I am now. I was so scared when Cara didn’t answer her phone. She’s just always there and so it never occurred to me that-”

“You should have called me first,” Jim said, realizing as spoke that he was scolding, which was probably not what Christie needed at the moment. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here and we’re going to get you to the hospital. See? I told you it would all work out.”

“Do you have a suitcase packed?” Marty asked.

Christie laughed. “A little I Love Lucy suitcase? Not really. There’s a bag by the door.”

“You want me to help you out?” he asked next.

“Thanks, but Jimmy’s got me. Ready?”

Jim stood and then helped Christie to her feet. “You have the camera in the bag?” he asked Christie.

“Everything is there.”

The trip down was slow and methodical. Christie walked carefully, her arm around Jim’s waist, stopping once and gasping as a contraction hit.

“I think you should go in Karen’s car,” Marty told them when they had made it to the street. “More room-and Hank’s already in there. Me and Tom will be right ahead of you. Belleview, right?”

“You don’t have to do th-” Jim began.

“We’ll clear the way for you!”

“Now he has to go,” Christie muttered as Jim helped her into the front seat. “He still has my bag.”

“You okay if I drive a little fast?” Karen asked Christie. “Looks like Marty and Tom want to give you a nice police escort.”

“Do whatever you think is best,” Christie said, breaking off to gasp as another contraction hit. “Whoa!”

Jim sat behind Christie, one hand on her shoulder from behind, the other grasping the loose folds of fur around Hank’s neck. A handful of Hank fur always had a soothing effect on Jim.

“Wait a minute!” he said suddenly. “Hank can’t be in the delivery room with us.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Karen offered.

“It may be a while,” Christie warned.

“No worries, okay? If it gets to be too late, I’ll either leave him with a family member in the waiting room or just drop him off at the apartment. Don’t worry about Hank. You’re about to be parents, you two!”

“Parents of poor little nameless girls!” Christie said, her laugh verging on hysterical. “What are we gonna do, Jimmy?”

“There’s no rush,” he said, speaking low to try and calm her. “We’ll name them when it seems right. It’ll come to us.”

“Addison,” Christie said suddenly. “Okay, that’s mine. Give her a middle name.”

The name barely registered, but he would have agreed to almost anything at that moment. “Grace,” he said without thinking. “Addison Grace. That-that’s not bad. What do you think?”

“I love it! Do you love it, Karen?”

“Me? Uh-yeah. I like it. It’s pretty. Your turn, Jim.”

“Katherine,” he said without hesitation. “We’ll call her Katie.”

“Katherine…I don’t even care about the middle name. I’m so excited that you’re going for Addison! Um…Katherine Mattea.”

Jim found himself laughing and squeezing Christie from behind. “Okay! We did it. Hard part’s over!”

Christie’s fingers closed over Jim’s, growing uncomfortably tight. “You can say that after you’ve squeezed two people out of your vagina. Until then…”

“Noted.”

“We’re here,” Karen said, pulling over and shutting off the ignition.

“Okay,” Marty said, running up to the car, sounding winded. “I spoke to admission and they say you guys have to fill out some paperwork first and…”

“We’re fine,” Jim assured, opening Christie’s door and helping her out.

“I’ve got a wheelchair here!” Tom said, sounding like he was rapidly approaching as well. “You can just sit right here, Christie.”

“What service,” she said. Jim could tell she was touched and amused by all the attention.

After that came a blur that Jim never could decipher in retrospect. Karen filling out the paperwork for them, a quick examination by Dr. Nelson and a rush into the delivery room. People talking. Marty calling Shannon so she could call more family. Someone helping Jim into papery scrubs, complete with a hat, mask, and little booties held in place with elastic. The anesthetic smell of soap as he scrubbed in. The delivery room itself, noisy and confusing. Jim just stayed at his post near Christie’s head, muttering encouragements to her between contractions and holding her hand. He lost all track of time at this point. It could have been fifteen minutes or fifteen hours for all he could tell. And all the worry about cords being tangled and babies being in distress and needing a c-section turned out to be for nothing. Christie delivered the girls naturally.

Jim was vaguely aware of someone-a nurse?-taking pictures of what was going on. He had always imagined himself doing that, but there was no time to sigh over being blind. Again. What good would it do anyone anyway? From what he could tell, Addison Grace was healthy and so, fifteen minutes later, was Katherine Mattea. Someone carefully guided Jim into position to cut the first cord and then, the second. And still he hadn’t touched his girls.

“They’re beautiful,” Christie said, tears in her voice. “Jimmy, they’re absolutely perfect.”

“Are you okay?” Jim asked, feeling for Christie’s hand again.

“She’s doing great,” Dr. Nelson assured them both. “And so are your girls. Listen to those lungs!”

There wasn’t a way around listening to those lungs. Jim smiled fondly and turned his head toward the sound of two babies crying.

When Christie was taken to her room and the babies were cleaned up, bundled, and placed in her waiting arms, Jim snuggled up against his wife on the side of the bed and gently reached over to “see” his daughters for the first time.

“This one’s Katie,” Christie whispered, then she guided Jim’s hand across her to where Addison was. “And Addison is the big one. Seven pounds. Not bad, at all, little twins.”

Jim couldn’t speak. He wanted to do too much all at once. He wanted privacy to explore the faces of his little ones, to find their fuzzy hair and play with their tiny ears. He wanted to hold Christie and kiss her. He wanted to hold all three of them at once. More than anything in the world, he wanted to see them in Christie’s arms. He knew someone had snapped a photo of him with his family. He wanted to see what such a picture would look like. Nothing felt complete without a visual image to hold inside himself. Warmth rushed to his eyes as each of his hands traced the cheek of one of his daughters.

The room seemed quiet. “Jimmy?” Christie asked. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but couldn’t speak. Suddenly he brought his hand up to whisk away a tear that was running down his cheek. He never cried, not even when a doctor had told him he would never see again. But too much was wrapped up in this moment for him to resist that warmth in his eyes.

“Can I?” he asked, starting to lift Katie from Christie’s arms because she was closer.

“Of course,” Christie said. “There’s a chair just behind you, if you want to sit down with her.”

He did. Only her tiny head stuck out from her blankets, but Jim traced her newborn features and noticed that she had more hair than Dunbars usually had at birth.

“What color is her hair?” he asked Christie.

“It seems to be light brown, but that could always change.”

He nodded. “Can you tell an eye color yet?”

“Blue? Hard to tell right now, but I’m sure they’ll be blue. You want to hold Addison too?”

A nurse was on hand in a moment, gently placing the other baby in Jim’s arms.

“You know which is which?” he asked Christie. “How are we going to tell?”

“Right now they have their names on their wristbands. Later, we’ll just have to come up with a way. They look exactly alike. I mean, exactly.”

“But Addison is bigger, right?”

“By a few ounces. Not enough to be able to tell by looking at her.”

Jim raised Katie a couple of inches in one hand, then did the same to Addison in the other and then he went back and forth a moment, seeming to weigh them in his hands. “I think we’ll be able to find a way to tell them apart,” he said, a smile making the warmth in his eyes recede just a little.

[shmeep]

Expectations

Chapter 17


“Aren’t they precious?”

Jim lifted his head, turning toward the sound of people entering Christie’s room. He could make out the voices of his parents, Christie’s mom, Marissa, Shannon, and even Marty, but the buzz of confusion made him want to huddle in the corner with his girls.

“Look at them! They’re exactly alike!”

Unfortunately, the girls were the main attraction.

Someone was going nuts with a camera and people posed around Jim, getting into shots with him and the babies in his arms. Before too long, Addison and Katie were passed around so they could be photographed in different groupings of family members. Jim didn’t know which way to turn, so he sighed.

Then he heard it. A distinctly doggy kind of breathing.

“Hank?” he said, patting his leg.

That beloved muzzle was in his hands a moment later as Hank begged for attention and gently chastised Jim for having neglected him so.

“I took him out a little while ago,” an unfamiliar voice said. A child’s voice.

“You must be Jordan,” Jim said, smiling.

Jordan gasped. “How did you know that?”

“Who else could you be?”

“I hope it’s okay that he walked Hank,” Marty said. “My ex dropped him off here and Karen had to leave a couple of hours ago so Jordan said he’d watch Hank.”

“I’m very grateful to you, Jordan,” Jim said, feeling the corners of his mouth turning down so the smile he felt forming wouldn’t seem condescending. “Did Hank behave himself?”

“Yeah,” Jordan answered in his high little boy voice. Jim thought he sounded like he could be anywhere from seven to ten years old.

Christie’s mom’s voice broke through the din of baby-gushing chatter. “…Christie’s forehead,” she was saying. “and Jimmy’s ears and eyelashes. Christie’s nose. Jim’s chin …”

“How can she tell?” Jim muttered, thinking of how squashed-up he remembered newborn babies looking.

“They look like a couple of aliens to me,” Marty muttered back.

Jim jumped, startled that anyone had heard him, but then he laughed. “That’s how I’m picturing them,” he admitted.

“That’s not nice,” Shannon said, placing one of the babies back in Jim’s arms. “They are beautiful. Perhaps not at their best just yet, but give them a few weeks and they’ll be stunning.

Jim cradled the baby, kissing the top of her downy head, wondering which one she was. “I’m not in any hurry for them to be stunning,” he said, shocked that the warmth was behind his eyes again. What was going on with him? Why did he feel so close to the edge each time he held one of his babies?

“Which one is that?” Marissa asked.

“Their names are on their little wristbands,” Christie said, “but give them both to Jimmy. He can tell them apart.”

Jim felt himself blush at the pride in Christie’s voice.

The room grew silent.

“Really?” Jim’s mom asked. “How do you do that, Jimmy?”

He shrugged, not really confident of his weighing abilities yet, but a moment later someone handed him the other baby. He held them both, one in each arm with his palms gently cupping the backs of their heads, and raised first one and then the other. It was a slight movement, but enough for him to make the distinction he needed.

“This is Addison,” he said, nodding toward the heavier baby in his right hand.

Someone fumbled through Addison’s blanket for a moment, apparently going for her wrist.

“He’s right,” Shannon said, sounding excited.

“I’m sure you could all do that,” Jim said, happy to be handing the babies off to the relatives again as the chatter rose to its former level. He didn’t like being the center of attention in this group.

“Hey,” a gruff voice said as someone sat in the chair next to Jim’s.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Congratulations.” The word seemed awkward on his father’s lips. “You’ve got your hands full now, I’m guessing.”

Jim laughed, noticing that it was the nervous too-loud laugh he emitted sometimes when he didn’t know what else to do. “I guess I do,” he replied.

“Pretty babies.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

With the Dunbar groan Jim knew he’d develop a little later in life, his father stood and walked away.

“The man just never shuts up,” Marty said under his breath, sounding like he was leaning in so only Jim could hear him.

Jim smiled, realizing with surprise that Marty’s presence at this family gathering was somehow right and comforting. If Jim could see, he knew he and Marty would be exchanging knowing looks and gently mocking everyone—and somehow Marty was enough of an insider to mock without causing any offense.

“How’d it go?” Jim asked Marty, keeping his voice low. “You know. The meeting? My sister and the kid?”

“It’s going just fine, I think,” Marty said back. He took the seat beside Jim, probably so he could get in closer with less chance of being overheard. “He seems to like her, but who wouldn’t like Shannon?”

“Where’s Bradley?” Jim asked next.

“He’s here. Sleeping in his stroller. Jordan seems to like him too. Played with him until Karen gave him Hank. It’s a little eerie, really, having my son here in the middle of this throng of Dunbars. That’s a little more than I had in mind when I planned this weekend.”

“Well, hopefully the rest of your weekend won’t revolve around us,” Jim said. “He seems like a nice kid, Marty.”

“Yeah,” Marty said with a husky laugh. “He really is. Thanks.”

Jim turned toward his wife’s bed. “How are you feeling, Christie?” he asked, hoping his question, spoken above his usual volume, would thin the crowd a little. He was glad everyone was getting to see the babies so soon, but all he wanted was to be alone with his new family for a while.

“I’m okay,” she said, but her voice sounded tired. Jim felt cut off, unable to look at her and sum up for himself how she was doing so he could know how to control this crowd.

“It’s pretty late,” Marissa said.

You could always count on Marissa to take a hint, Jim thought. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

Everyone started saying their goodbyes.

“You should go home and get some sleep,” Christie told Jim.

Leaving had never entered Jim’s mind. “I’m staying here.”

“Jim.” Now her voice was firm. “I need sleep too, and so do the girls. There’s nothing to see here!”

Jim’s laugh felt bitter as it came out. “I know what you mean.”

She sighed, sounding like she was verging on annoyed. “Really, you can come right back in the morning and we’ll all still be here.”

The room had an almost empty feel to it, but Jim sensed at least a couple of people lurking in the doorway.

“I was hoping to get some more time alone with you. With them.”

Her hand covered his. “You’ll have plenty of time for that. I’d rather you left now while you can still get a ride.”

He nodded, setting his lips grimly. “Okay. But I’ll be back early.”

“Good.”

He leaned in and kissed her, finding her cheek and then her mouth by an instinct that always seemed to guide him at such moments. Hadn’t he always closed his eyes when he kissed her before? Each time he held her in his arms, his lips brushing against her skin, he felt, for a moment, that he was the same man he had always been in Christie’s eyes.

“I love you,” he said, straightening.

“I love you too!”

He turned toward the door. “Where’s Hank?” he asked.

“Right here!” Jordan said, rushing back into the room. “Here he is. You got him?”

Jim’s fingers closed over the handle of the harness. “Got him. And who has my daughters? I can hear one of them.”

It felt weird to call anyone his daughter. His face grew warm at the thought and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of that word.

“We’ve got them,” Marty said. “Me and Shannon.”

“Thanks.”

Someone moved into his space, holding something up to him.

“Say goodnight to Katie,” Shannon said, gently guiding Jim’s hand to Katie’s head so he could lean in and kiss her. “She’s being so good! Now Addison.”

Marty stepped in and Jim said goodnight to his other daughter, who was working herself into a good cry. Marty didn’t need to do any guiding for Jim to find this one.

“I’ll take you home,” Marissa offered.

He was unusually quiet on the way home, dwelling on all that happened that day and wishing he could have had a little more time with just his little family.

“You’re really lucky,” Marissa told him.

“I know.”

“I mean, what if they had been early or if there had been complications? You’ll have your babies home in no time, but imagine if you had to leave them in the NICU for weeks until they were big enough. I’m so glad nothing like that happened.”

Jim nearly shuddered at the thought of having to leave his babies at the hospital. How did people do it?

He thanked Marissa as she pulled up in front of his building and then took the elevator up to his floor. How had it never occurred to him that, after this enormous day, he would be returning home, alone and empty-handed?

“THERE you are!”

“Cara?”

Her door slammed shut and she rushed toward him—wearing her slippers, if his ears were not deceiving him.

“I went to a movie today and then to see a friend and when I got back, Christie was gone so I called the hospital and they told me…is everything okay?”

Jim unlocked his door and held it open for her, smiling. “Come in, Cara. Yes, Christie is fine and the babies are healthy.”

“And I wasn’t here to take her! I know she was so worried about getting to the hospital when her time came and—of course, the one day I made plans…”

“It’s okay, Cara,” he said, going to the refrigerator for a beer. “We got her to the hospital just fine. You want one?”

“Yes, please,” she said meekly.

They sat together at the bar, drinking their beer as Cara continued to talk .

“…and when I tried to get you on your cell phone…”

Jim’s conscience twinged. “I turned it off and never remembered to turn it on again.”

“Well, you had a lot going on. So, what are they like?”

A wall of blankness came to mind as he thought of his daughters. How was he ever to describe them to someone else when he would never see them? But then he thought about holding them and a smile spread across his face.

“Addison is a little bigger,” he began. “She came in at seven pounds. Cries louder, too. Katie just kind of whimpers. They have a lot of hair—light brown for now. Apparently, they have Christie’s forehead, my ears and eyelashes, Christie’s nose, my chin…and some people are of the opinion that they look like aliens…”

[shmeep]

Expectations

Chapter 18


“Do you think two weeks off is too much?” Jim asked from his chair in the living room.

He could hear occasional grunts and slurps from the couch as Christie fed the babies. To Jim, his daughters weren’t instantly the cherubic bundles of love everyone else saw. He experienced them through cries and wet diapers and razor sharp nails that scratched no matter how Christie clipped them. But he smiled as he thought of the indescribable smell of baby and of the way he felt when he held them and took a deep breath through his nose. He was even beginning to think they didn’t smell exactly alike, although it would take time to test that theory.

“Why do you ask?” Christie said, her voice deceptively light. Jim heard the suspicion in there somewhere. She was preparing to be annoyed.

He didn’t know if he could explain it. Taking time off felt weird. Wrong. Like he was newly blind and off the job again, getting his bearings around the apartment. He should have had his bearings, but somehow the presence of two needy beings filled his head, distracting him as he went about his business. Addison cried and suddenly Jim was bumping into pillars or stubbing his toes on barstools. Both of them cried and Jim was forgetting which room he was in. And all the stuff! Christie said the place was still clean and organized, so it must have been a coincidence that whatever was left out always happened to be where Jim wanted to step.

He arranged his features into something he hoped looked clueless and winsome. “No reason. I just—well, I haven’t had any time off since I got shot and I’m not used to just being…home.”

Christie sighed. “I understand, Jimmy. I really do. This is a weird time. Beautiful, hard. Just weird, right?”

The weird part for Jim was trying to picture what Christie was doing at that moment. The breastfeeding was going surprisingly well and the thought of her, with her special nursing pillows, feeding both of them at once the way she had been shown, was more than Jim could grasp. He tried to help her situate herself at feeding time, but once that was done, it was out of his hands and he would wander around the apartment or out in the park with Hank, longing to be back at work where he felt useful. How had taking two weeks off ever seemed like a good idea?

“Jim?” Christie prodded. “You okay?”

He sighed and shook his head. “It’s just…two weeks is a long time.”

“But I need you here. You’ve been a life saver. I don’t know how you ever got so good at changing diapers, but…”

Jim put his hand to his mouth so she couldn’t tell he was trying not to laugh. Christie didn’t know about some of his clumsy early attempts at diaper changing and Cara had been nice enough not to tell.

“Don’t you like being home with your babies, Jimmy?”

He dropped his hand and straightened, his smile fading. “Of course I do. I just—I get antsy.”

“Katie seems to be done,” she said. “Would you mind taking her?”

“Sure.”

He walked to the couch and leaned over Christie, placing a hand on the head of each daughter. Some sort of instinct always seemed to guide his hands straight to them.

“Which one?” he asked.

“The left.”

“Your left?”

“Sorry. Your left.”

Gently, he lifted Katie, situating her comfortably in his arms.

“Here’s a receiving blanket,” Christie said, thrusting it into Jim’s hand. “You may need it.”

He sat back down in his chair, blanket draped over his shoulder, Katie in burping position as he patted her back, rocking her the way she liked.

“You’re a natural,” Christie said.

He smiled and kissed Katie’s head. He always allowed his face to linger close after a kiss, picking up things about his babies his hands missed; the fuzz of their heads, their smell, the satiny warmth of their cheeks. They looked different when seen with his face. “I’m just a dad,” he said.

“Do you feel like you’re bonding with them?” Christie asked. “I mean, you look like you are, but some of the stuff I read about blind parents…I know it can be hard when they’re really young.”

Jim had to think about it before he could respond. “I don’t have anything to compare it with,” he finally said. “But in a way, I think I may be even closer to these babies than I would have been. You know. Otherwise.”

Did he even want a response to that? Did he like the idea of Christie thinking about how things had been before? How they could have been now?

“Otherwise,” she repeated. The hard sound in her voice told Jim how she had decided to interpret that word. She wasn’t thinking about how nice it would have been to have had a sighted daddy for her babies. She was thinking about that other Jim Dunbar. The one who had cheated on her. The one who wouldn’t have still even been her husband had the healing power of blindness not intervened, inexplicably saving their marriage.

It was that trade-off he had discussed with Dr. Galloway. For the vision lost, he had regained his marriage. And now he had two daughters. He remembered how he had felt when Dr. Galloway had asked him if it was worth the trade. At that time, he had been hard pressed to come up with any answer that could remain consistent from one moment to the next. Now, however, something inside him stirred as he wondered if he would have willingly made that trade, had he known what was to come as a result.

Katie hiccupped and then started cooing against his shoulder. She sometimes seemed to be singing, but only when he was the one holding her. She didn’t even sing for Christie. She was so warm. So real. So alive. So dependent. It hit him at that moment that he now had an answer for Dr. Galloway. He didn’t even need to think about it any longer. Trade his vision for the life of his daughters? In a heartbeat. He smiled, realizing that, in a way, he had already done that.

That other Jim Dunbar, the one who now only existed in the realm of “otherwise,” may not have even appreciated the gift of the life he now held in his arms. Why couldn’t he have had it all? That was something else he had asked Dr. Galloway. Who said he couldn’t have found a way to keep his marriage alive while keeping his sight? But he knew. Everything was too easy for that other Jim. He might not have realized what he had with Christie or how miraculous his girls were. He would have loved them, of course. He hadn’t been a complete dick back when he could see. But…something told him the twins had been born for a reason. He considered them his reward for the adjustment he had made and the work he had put into his marriage. And now there was his newfound tenderness for Christie. The way he cherished their relationship. The way her feelings mattered to him. His sighted self hadn’t had any of this to offer his family. He probably would have found a way to screw everything up.

“I like the look on your face right now,” Christie said, speaking softly.

“What does it look like?” he asked.

“Like peace. That’s not a look I’ve seen you do very often. So two weeks is really seeming long to you?”

It was jarring, trying to jump back into that other mindset. His mind had wandered far in a short time.

“I’ve never been good at not working,” he explained. “You know that. All that time I spent, waiting for my reinstatement to go through…”

“I know. That’s why I got on board when you started trying to get your job back. Not working was killing you.”

“So that’s all this is, Christie. You know that, right?”

“I do know that, but I also know you won’t get this kind of time with them very often, so I want you to enjoy it.”

“Want me to take them out for a while?” he asked. “Hank needs some exercise and I’d like to give you some time to yourself.”

“Or I could go with you.”

Jim’s mouth tightened at the corners. “You’re not ready for me to be out with them alone yet, are you? You don’t think I can keep them safe.”

“That never even entered my mind. Honestly, Jim, I just thought I could use the exercise too. But a little time to myself also sounds good. Maybe I’ll take a bath and then cook us up a nice lunch. Sound good?”

“Sounds great. So, stroller or that kid backpack thing? I’ve been wanting to try that out.”

“How would you manage the carriers?”

“I can wear them both. One in front and one in back.”

“That’s silly.”

“At this age, it will be easier for me than the stroller. I need a little practice with that.”

“Okay. Addison’s just about done. Once they’re changed and ready, we’ll figure out the carriers.”

They were harder to figure out than Jim had expected, but he wouldn’t let Christie just put them on him. He needed to understand how they worked so he could do it himself the next time. Christie had grown used to this and was patient as she explained how everything was worn and allowed Jim’s hands to go over each step until he felt competent.

“Which one is this?” Jim asked, pointing to the baby he wore in front.

“Um…Addison.”

“Why’d it take you so long? You can see her.”

“I had to check her left pinky nail. I put a little spot of nail polish on Katie just to be safe. What if their weight changed and you couldn’t do that baby-juggling thing you do to tell them apart?”

“We’d never get them mixed up for long, no matter what. They’re just—different. I can always tell which one I’m holding within a couple minutes…the noises she makes, the way she reacts to things. I just know.”

“I know Addison is louder,” Christie said. “She’s fussier.”

“And Katie really seems to like me. Have you noticed?”

“Yeah,” Christie admitted, a grudging smile in her voice. “I guess you’re right. We’d never get them mixed up for long. They’ve tricked my eyes into believing they’re exactly alike, and I guess I don’t trust my other senses to tell me otherwise, yet.”

“So if the nail polish makes you feel better…”

“It really does.”

Jim felt like a spectacle as he walked through the park. With Addison up front, Katie on his back, and Hank leading the way, he wondered how Marty would react to such a sight.

Still, being out alone with his girls felt good. Christie really trusted him to be able to take care of their daughters.

“Jim?”

The woman’s voice came from straight ahead. Jim stopped short, drawing in his breath sharply. He couldn’t help it.

The voice brought an image to mind. Something forbidden. He used to imagine he heard that voice after the shooting, back in those early days of blindness when Christie’s justifiable hurt, even when paired with her staunch support, had made her difficult to confide in. He used to wonder how things would have been if Christie hadn’t stayed—and if Anne had.

“Anne,” he said, facing the voice.

There had been no closure. No chance to explain. To say good-bye. Everything had happened at once and then it was over. Jim was blind, Christie had stayed, and Anne was no longer a part of their lives. To go from the complication of having two lives hidden from each other to barely having one life hidden from himself had been a shock.

Her footsteps approached. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d recognize my voice.”

He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Yeah? Well, I’ve got a good memory…”

Her laugh sounded nervous. “I know. So…you look good.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s a good look for you.”

“What is?”

“Jeans, dog, wedding band, and baby.”

He laughed. “Try ‘babies.’” He turned so Anne could see Katie behind him.

She was close to him now. “Karen told me you had twin girls.”

Karen hadn’t mentioned Anne once since that first day they were partnered. Jim appreciated her tact, but he often longed for the topic to reemerge in some innocuous way so he could find out a few of the little things he had always wanted to know. Had Anne forgiven him? How did she feel about his blindness? Had she moved on with someone else? These were things Jim couldn’t ask Karen and that he wouldn’t be able to ask even now, face to face with Anne.

Face to face. It hit Jim that, in the confusion of getting ready to take the girls out for the first time by himself, he had forgotten his sunglasses. If ever there was a time to hide his eyes, to keep up that barrier, it was now.

“So…how are you?” he asked lamely.

“I’m doing great. I’m—I’m engaged. Has Karen…?”

“No. We don’t—”

“That’s right. She told me you don’t talk about me.”

“It’s better that way.”

“I know.”

Through the silence, Anne was making friendly advances toward Addison. From the movement he felt in front, he could tell Addison was gripping Anne’s finger and that they were having a mini tug-of-war.

“She’s got a firm grip,” Jim observed. “She’s pretty feisty.”

Anne’s laugh no longer sounded nervous. “How did you…?”

“I can feel you playing with her.”

“How old are they?”

“One week today.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Jim pointed at Addison. “You and Addison have already met. And this is Katie in the back—we’ll have to let her ride up front next time. Oh, and this is Hank. Can’t forget Hank.”

“Hello, Hank. Jim, your girls are beautiful.”

He nodded. “So I’ve been told. Well, everyone says that except for Marty. He says they look like aliens.”

“Marty Russo?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve met him. I can’t picture you working with him. How is that going? Karen says you’re great on the job, but Russo…”

“He’s okay. Better, since he started dating my sister.”

His longing for some kind of closure with this woman was growing as their talk edged politely along the surface. Jim didn’t know if he could take leaving without her knowing a thing or two, but how did such things get brought up after such a long time?

“You ready to have Russo as a brother-in-law?”

Jim laughed, but then fell silent as fragmented memories of Anne, her smell, the shine of her hair, her easy conversation, the lie he had lived, filled his head.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re zoning a little.”

“I’m sorry, Anne. This is just—unexpected. It’s really good to see you again and you seem—happy. I’m glad you’re happy.”

He had just crossed into a more somber place and was sure it showed on his face.

Her hand rested on his arm for a moment and then she gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I am happy. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you’re happy. You know, that you smoothed things over with your wife. That you—recovered. Karen says things are going well with your marriage. I won’t say you deserve it, but…”

He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve you, either. I just—I wish I could explain what happened. I can’t, so I’ll just say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you and put you in that position. It was wrong and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

He heard a slow inhale and then an even slower exhale from Anne before she spoke again. “It’s nice to hear you say that, Jimmy. I know in the end we just didn’t get a chance to—to talk. I wanted to be mad for a long time but it’s hard to stay mad at a hero. Someone who—”

“Someone who’s blind,” he finished for her.

“That thought was in there somewhere. When Karen told me she had been partnered with you, I was just…I can’t even tell you what went through my mind. Then, after everything I had told her about you, you won her over in just a couple of weeks. Soon I wasn’t allowed to say a word against you.”

“That must have been annoying,” he said dryly.

“It was. But her admiration—it was so innocent. She trusts you and you’ve never crossed the line. I don’t know if you know this, but Karen is gorgeous.”

“I know.”

“But you never even tried anything. I’m impressed. That was what showed me you really have changed.”

“I’ve tried. Christie and I have worked hard to fix our marriage.”

“Good. Don’t fuck it up, Jimmy.”

“I don’t intend to. Hey, Anne? Thanks. I’m glad we got to talk. I always felt weird about the way we left things.”

“Me too. It’s really good to see you healthy and happy—and behaving yourself.” She laughed teasingly at that. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Jim headed back to the apartment. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell Mommy about that,” he suggested to the girls. “You too, Hank.”