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The cry startled Wes into a state of alertness he didn’t realize he could obtain. He’d been distracted all morning and somehow he’d misplaced the girls. Until the screech of pain brought him back into reality, showing him exactly where the two of them had gotten to.
Getting to his feet, he searched the living room, playroom, bedroom, and finally, he found them both, stuffed in the hall closet, clinging to one another and crying. Sighing with relief, he pulled each girl out of the tangle of blankets and toys and body parts and set them upright on the floor behind him.
Wes shook his head and berated himself for allowing his thoughts to take over his common sense. One or both of the kids could have gotten hurt and not just stuck inside a mostly empty closet. Travis wasn’t going to let him live this down anytime soon.
“Okay you two,” he said, turning to face them both. “I think it is about naptime.”
Violet sat on the floor, holding one miniature foot in her hand, tears still filled her blue eyes. Her little sister, Bryony, sat on the floor next to her, holding her foot in a similar fashion. Noting the absence of tears on the little one’s face, Wes figured she was miming Vi like she had a habit of doing.
“What’s the matter, you two,” Wes asked. Checking Bri’s toes first before reaching for Vi’s little piggies.
She jerked her foot away from Wes’ fingers, frowning. “I hurt my toe, Mama.”
He took her pint-sized foot gently into his hand and inspected each toe in turn, finding the big one a little red and swollen. “Did you kick your sister again?” It had become a growing problem now that Bryony was exerting her own independence and challenging Violet’s self-proclaimed authority.
“No, Mama,” she insisted in a way that the lawyer in Wes was inclined to believe. Although, he’d been known to fall for that wide-eyed innocence before.
“Did your sister kick you, Bri?” Bryony shook her head and that he definitely believed. The kid didn’t waste a second in ratting out her sister if she could. Pulling Violet into his lap, he lifted her toe to his mouth and gave it a shower of kisses. “Better?”
“Yeah,” she giggled, cuddling into Wes’ embrace. Minutes later, Bryony joined them, hogging the other side of Wes’ lap. They were still there forty minutes later when Travis returned from his errand.
“Did I miss the memo about a floor-side pow-wow?” Grinning, he lowered himself to the ground and held out his arms. Both kids leaped from Wes’ lap and ran to their papa, piling onto his for a change of scenery. “And wasn’t Dakota supposed to watch the kids?”
Wes picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants. “I sent her home when I got back from the doctor.”
Frowning, Travis lifted both kids off his lap and patted Vi on her backside. “Take your sister and go play in your room for a bit, okay?”
Vi gave a curt nod, taking her sister’s hand. “’Kay, Papa.”
He waited until they’d disappeared into the toy room before turning his attention back onto Wes. “Did something happen at the doctor? Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
Wes shrugged, unable to form the words he needed. “I was wrong,” he finally said.
“Wrong? What do you mean ‘wrong’?” Travis frowned when the realization dawned on him. “Oh god, you mean the baby, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Wes sighed, sneaking a look at Travis’ crestfallen face.
“But…” Travis waved a hand at Wes that he took to encompass all his symptoms of the past few weeks.
“Apparently, I have a bacterial infection of some kind. One that causes fatigue and nausea and many other symptoms often found in a person with morning sickness.” His voice sounded flat, defeated, but then, he rather felt that way too.
“Well,” Travis said, obviously searching for a positive spin on the whole situation. “Things could be worse. Did the doctor give you something for this infection?”
He nodded. “I dropped it off at the pharmacy on my way home. It should be ready to pick up soon.”
“Good. We’ll get your stuff, put you to bed, get you healthy and then…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Wes laughed, he couldn’t help it. Why wasn’t he surprised that baby making was the first thing Travis had planned for when he was healthy again? “Yeah, and then,” he chuckled. “So, you’re not upset?”
“Hell no,” Travis said, tugging Wes into his arms. “I was more worried that there was a… problem than anything else. That you weren’t actually pregnant sucks, but it’s better than the alternative.”
Travis was right on the nose with that one. Thankful that he’d managed to keep Travis from announcing the pregnancy to anyone who’d listen, Wes leaned into Travis’ hug and sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why on earth are you apologizing, baby? You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.” Travis kissed the top of Wes’ blond head, nuzzling his nose in that little floof at the front.
“I don’t know,” he said, honestly. “I just feel like I should be. Like I’ve let you –us –down or something. I know it’s not true but, I can’t help it.”
“Mama,” a demanding little voice intervened before Travis could say a word. “Sissy stinks.”
Bryony came waddling up and Wes made a face. “Yes, she does. But is there a reason you’re telling me and not your papa?”
Violet’s face morphed into a very Marks-like look of disbelief. “Are ya kiddin’ me, Mama?” Shaking her head, she held her hands up in surrender and walked away.
“She is so your child,” Wes muttered into Travis’ ear. “She doesn’t get that shit from me.”
Travis laughed, startling Bryony. She made a face and said, “Papa nuts.”
“Yes, baby, he sure is,” Wes agreed, pulling himself to his feet. “Come on, child. Let’s go change you before you drive us all out of the house.” To himself, he muttered, “About damn time we potty trained you, too.”
Violet met Wes and Bri at the door to their bedroom, diaper and wipes in hand. “You’ll need these,” she said, so matter-of-fact that Travis launched into another gust of raucous laughter.
“You know,” Wes said, turning to face his husband. “You keep laughing like this and you can change the little rascal.”
The laughter abruptly stopped.
“Thought so,” Wes said, hiding his smile from the two very Marks-like members of his household.
Taking the proffered items from Violet, Wes carried Bri in and laid her down on the changing table. Big blue eyes stared up at him, watching his every move. She was the complete opposite of her sister, fair and even-tempered where Violet was dusky and impulsive. They made for a good pair and would be each other’s go-to in the years to come.
It made him wonder how a third child would fit into the family dynamic.
And good god, what if they had a son? How would that even work? He had no idea, but between himself, Travis, and Violet, the Girl with All the Answers, they’d figure it out.
Bryony would go along for the ride, she pretty much always did.
Attaching the last adhesive strip to Bri’s diaper, Wes put her onto the ground and watched her toddle out of the room in search of her sister. Cleaning his fingers off on a baby wipe, he wandered into the bedroom to see if Travis was up for ordering some dinner. An oddly familiar noise coming from the bathroom stopped him in his tracks.
“Travis?” He knocked on the door and listened for what felt like forever and a day. “You okay in there?”
“Yeah,” he murmured before retching into the toilet, verifying what Wes had thought he’d heard before. “Just dandy.”
The toilet flushed and Travis exited the bathroom, forcing Wes to backpedal. “You look pale,” he said, frowning. “Oh god, I really hope you didn’t catch whatever I have.”
“Unfortunately, buttercup, I’m afraid I did.” Travis washed his hands, and splashed some water on his face. “I love you, always, but right now, you’re so not my favorite person.”
Wes’ mouth kicked up in a half-smile. “Maybe if you were nicer, I wouldn’t get you sick.”
“Maybe,” Travis said, grinning back at the little blond. “But maybe – oh god.”
Travis pushed past Wes and ran into the bathroom, making it barely in time. Wes cocked his head, concerned. But then, he’d been feeling nearly that bad, too, back when he thought he was –
Oh no.
Travis…