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“Sweetheart…what is this.”
The ‘this’ Tommy was referring to was the one tonne pile of top soil currently occupying his parking space on the driveway. Evan turned towards him, pout locked firmly in place, arms covered in dirt, dead leaves tangled in his curls.
“It’s for the flower beds - obviously - they’re a complete mess Tommy-look!” Evan grabbed his hand, dragging all 220 pounds of him into the utter state of chaos that was now their front yard. The raised beds that once contained a host of assorted dead plants now lay empty, a pile of weeds and roots and soil covering the flagstone path across their front lawn.
“I can’t believe we let it get this bad-that you let it get this bad while I was visiting TK and Carlos and the boys” Tommy heard it in the inflection of Evan’s voice before the words even really registered, the slightly pitchy whine combined with an accusation that lacked any real heat if it wasn’t fuelled by hormones. He chose to remain quiet on the fact that the flower beds looked like that because it was nearly midwinter, and it had not infact happened in the week - three months ago - that Evan had been away.
Evan continued his little rant, one hand placed gently on his bump, the other gesticulating wildly. Tommy listened as he went on, smiling to himself as Evan reached the inevitable crescendo of his argument.
“And so I had to order the top soil, the babies said so.” He finished with a huff, head tilted slightly to the side as if daring Tommy to argue.
Tommy let his head fall back as he let out a laugh “Baby, the twins did not tell you to order a metric tonne of top soil two days before your due date, how are you even-”
“How would you know? They’re not inside you. They’re inside me. And they told me to sort the flower beds out because they look ridiculous.” Tommy nodded along as his husband ran himself out of steam, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around his middle, lips pressed to the sun kissed skin of his neck.
“We missed you today” Evan said quietly, argument about the flower beds already forgotten, head tilted towards Tommy’s until his nose pressed up against him.
“I know sweetheart, but I’m all signed off from work for the forseeable. Now, are there any objections to spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread for dinner?” Tommy said, thumbs running gently over the fabric of his favourite patagonia t-shirt, a little more stretched across his husbands stomach then the last time it was worn. Two little kicks came in reply and he felt the breath hitch in his lungs, the same wonder and amazement that had slammed into him as he stood at Evan’s hospital bed all those months ago, still pure and present in the final days before the girls arrived.
“I think that’s a yes” Evan murmured “But the real question is, did you bring us the Nutella?”
Tommy grimaced as they entered the house. The discovery of Nutella slathered over garlic bread was one Evan had made early into his pregnancy, and to this day Tommy still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
—
He spent the following day shovelling top soil into the raised beds as Evan swapped between standing anxiously at the door to oversee the project and napping on the couch. He was just about finished when he heard a yell from inside the house.
“Tommy!” Evan whined again as he rounded the corner. He stopped short at the sight in front of him, affection and laughter bubbling up inside with equal measure. The seemingly hundreds of baby clothes they’d bought were in a state of disarray on the floor, in the middle of the chaos sat his husband, limbs contorted at odd angles as he struggled to get up from his position.
“If you laugh, I will divorce you and you will never see your daughters.” Evan’s eyebrows scrunched as he said it, lips crinkling as he let out a huff of annoyance. Tommy raised his hands in mock surrender, reaching down to lift him up off the floor.
“I thought you put all of their clothes away in the nursery last week, sweetheart?” Tommy asked gently, cautious of the line of questioning and Evan’s heightened emotions. They’d been warned, god - everyone had warned them - but the emotional high’s and low’s of being pregnant had still taken them both by surprise. About four months in, Evan had woken him up in the middle of the night sobbing, stuttered apologies pouring out of his mouth as he confessed he felt like he was losing his mind. He’d consoled him, held him close and whispered reassurances into his ear into the early hours of the morning, but that conversation framed the rest of the pregnancy, made him careful of what he said so Evan never felt like he was crazy again.
“I know but then I started packing the hospital bag and I couldn’t find the onesies we said we’d bring them home in and I still can’t find them and they’re coming tomorrow Tommy and they’ve got nothing to wear!”
Tommy held his husbands face in his hands, thumb’s smoothing back the curls from his face. “Maybe they’re in the drier? I thought you said you were washing your pyjamas for the hospital so maybe you put them in with that load?” Evan’s eyes lit up as he listened, an internal light bulb going off as he quickly turned and made his way to the laundry room.
Tommy smiled to himself before going to pick up the babygrows and socks almost to small to believe off the floor, folding the soft cotton into neat little piles according to size. He was folding the last ones when he felt hands slide around his waist, a warm but firm bump pressed to his lower back as Evan whispered “This is why I love you.” against the shell of his ear.
—
“We need to have sex.” Evan said in between shovelling cream cheese filled jalapenos into his mouth. Tommy choked on his milk, wheezing as the burn from the extra hot tacos Evan was insisting they eat and the milk in his windpipe combined.
“Angel-” Tommy hesitated “We do not need to have sex, they’ll come out when they’re ready.”
The due date had come and gone two days ago, and with every extra hour Evan remained pregnant, a new idea to get them out was voiced, Tommy doing the same in solidarity.
“When they’re ready? They’re ready now! They’re cooked! The timer has gone off! Thirty seven weeks and two days! I want them out.” Evan moaned as he slid his empty plate across the dinner table and leant back in his chair.
“How about we have a cuddle on the couch, theres a new episode of Life on Earth that we could watch?” Evan huffed but ultimately acquiesced and dragged himself to the living room while Tommy cleared away their plates. He poured some juice for them both as he eyed the kitchen countertops, the space that once held a Magimix and an airfryer now taken up by bottle sanitisers and baby formula.
When he made it to the living room Evan was half asleep already, eyes drooping as David Attenboroughs voice played quietly on the TV. Tommy settled down next to him, placing a hand on Evan’s belly while the other stroked gently through his curls. Quietly - as to not to add more pressure to his husband - he was just as desperate to meet the girls, two perfect little combinations of him and the man he loved. He prayed to whoever was listening that they’d inherit Evan’s curls, finding himself watching youtube videos between calls on how to care for curly hair.
Evan’s little snores filtered through the noise from the TV, mouth parted slightly while he shuffled around, subconsciously holding his stomach - protective even in sleep. So Tommy started talking to them, just like he did everynight when Evan was restless, quiet little stories about their fathers nesting escapades, snippets of memories from their adventures together, declarations of love for faces he had yet to see but felt like he knew.
—
It was the following afternoon when it happened, Evan was rummaging around in the freezer, intent on finishing his tub of mango sorbet along with his pretzels when he yelled for Tommy.
“It’s happening.” Two words, and Tommy briefly thought he was going to throw up. And then he was helping Evan into the truck and driving to the hospital, hand clamped between sweaty fingers as he weaved through traffic.
By the time they made it to labour and delivery the contractions were still 18 minutes apart and he felt a sense of calm wash over him when the midwife finally came in to speak to them. Evan seemed to be handling them well, still intent on no pain relief even as the first few hours ticked by. Nurses came by every so often to check the girls’ heart rates, smiling encouragingly as his husband asked question after question about what they were doing. He knew Evan was anxious, even if he didn’t appear it on the outside. It was two in the morning when Evan went suddenly very quiet.
“Sweetheart, you’re doing so well, you know that?” Tommy murmured, pressing a kiss to his slightly damp forehead as another contraction abated. Evan didn’t reply, only shutting his eyes with a gentle nod as a sharp intake of breath rocked his body.
“Hey-hey. Evan, you’ve got this okay? You’re doing such a good job alre-”
“What if I’m not a good dad? What if-what if I can’t do it?” tears slipped down his husbands face as he uttered the terrified words.
Tommy felt his heart clench, sitting down on the side of the bed and grabbing Evan’s hands, finger monitor and all.
“Sweetheart listen to me. You don’t need to wonder if you’ll be a good dad, you already are a good dad. For thirty seven weeks and three days you have been a good dad. You have grown them and nourished them and protected them from the minute they were conceived, you, you did that, and I know from the bottom of my heart that you will continue to do so for the rest of our lives.”
He worried for a moment that he’d made things worse as the tears streamed down Evan’s face at an accelerated rate, but then his husband was reaching forward, Tommy’s body twisting a slightly uncomfortable angle so their lips could join.
“I love you so much-we love you so much. I’m so glad we’re doing this together.” Evan muttered between kisses, tears making Tommy’s lips feel salty.
—
“This is your fault, you’ve done this to me. Why did we think this was a good idea?” the question came as the midwife paused between requests to push, Evan’s grip tight enough to crush bone as he alternated between panting and screaming. Tommy held back his laugh, instead choosing to nod in agreement “I know baby, I’m sorry, but you’re doing so well, and you’re so nearly there.” They locked eyes, Evan’s red rimmed, Tommy’s filled with love and understanding.
“Okay Evan, time for the biggest push of your life.”
The next part went in a blur of screaming and anguish, until suddenly he was being called to cut the cord, scissors placed in gloved hands as a wailing pink baby girl entered the world. Tommy didn’t think he remembered to breath as his daughter was placed in his arms, this tiny fragile bundle with a crop of dark hair and pursed lips was theirs.
They’d agreed - and Evan had been very specific - about Tommy holding their daughter while the second one was born, and he watched in amazement as his husband gripped the sides of the bed and yelled through the birth of twin number two.
When all was said and done, the girls came in at six pounds two ounces respectively. Evan had layed back in all his post birth glory and cried at the sight of his girls, sobbing as Tommy placed them gently into his arms, tiny little yellow hats adorning their perfect heads.
—
After a few days in the hospital they were finally allowed to take the girls home, two matching white baby grows covered in ducks emerging from the hospital bag at long last. Tommy thanked god that he’d installed the car seats the minute they got to the truck, only to be stumped on how to actually strap them in. In the end, they’d made a slightly panicked phone call to Maddie which turned into a slightly hysterical facetime before they finally got them strapped in.
When they pulled into the driveway at home their friends and family were waiting for them, lights on and house filled with warmth and love. Tommy carried the girls inside as Evan brought up the rear, realising he’d never been more attracted to his husband than when he was carrying two baby carriers through the door to their house.
Once all the hello’s and congratulations had been exchanged, Tommy stood and surveyed the scene, heart overflowing with love and tenderness at what his life now looked like. Walking over to his husband and his girls, he placed a kiss on each of their heads before addressing the room.
“Well we’ve kept you waiting for long enough, so, everyone…I’d like to formally introduce you to Esme and Eva Buckley-Kinard, our daughters.”