Married...With Twins! Read online

  “The second panda found a bed,” Irene suddenly announced, appearing in the doorway and looking pleased that she’d made progress with Brooke. “I hope they’ll call me Grandma someday. I didn’t want to mention that today, but since they never knew grandparents, it shouldn’t be confusing to them to give me that name.”

  Losing a child had a rippling effect, Luke mused. His mother had been nearly as devastated as he and Val had been. “Everything will take time, Mom.”

  “Yes, of course. Even instant parenthood. You look frazzled, Valerie.”

  Val laughed, thinking that was a mild description.

  “But how lucky for them to have both of you. Everyone always believed you’d make wonderful par-” She cut off the last word, her eyes darting to Luke with a look as if she wanted to cut out her tongue.

  Val felt both of them staring at her and delivered her most convincing smile to ease the worry away from Irene’s face. Neither Luke nor his mother needed to be concerned. Though it had taken Val months, she’d finally come to terms with the loss of their baby. It was the shock of losing good friends that had made her realize that she couldn’t fold up emotionally forever, even if she’d wanted to.

  As if anxious to fill the silence, Irene rambled on about the difficulties of moving the twins into their house. “There’s always so much to do during a move. You’re not still considering one to Houston, are you?” she asked, sounding anxious about the idea.

  Val acknowledged she hadn’t thought about that decision since the night she’d announced it to Luke. She’d felt then that she needed a fresh start. She needed to go somewhere, anywhere. She’d wanted to get away from New Hope, where her hopes for the future had ended seven months ago. But neither the move nor the divorce mattered at the moment. “After their loss, the girls need security and love. It wouldn’t be good to move them right now too far away from what they’re familiar with.”

  “Oh, good.” Irene’s pleased expression lingered even when her gaze wandered to the unpacked cartons. “Would you like any help?”

  “No, we’re making headway.” Val could have used help, but the pretense between Luke and her would be difficult under Irene’s perceptive eye. “But thank you, Irene.”

  “Oh, any time.” She moved to the door. “Just in case, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  As the door closed behind her, Val eyed empty cartons that needed to go in the garage. She stood but paused. “I’m glad she doesn’t know about us,” she said before leaving him.

  So was he. Luke remembered the worry in his mother’s eyes when she’d mentioned their moving. She’d be distraught if she learned of their plans to divorce.

  * * *

  Within an hour, loud childish singing, an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday,” drifted to Val from the room upstairs, signaling the end of the twins’ naptime. She got them up, fed them a light snack, then sought out Luke and suggested a trip to the store for another toy box.

  The outing proved more of a feat than Val had anticipated.

  By Luke’s exasperated expression, he was just as baffled as she was that they were being bamboozled by two-year-olds.

  For the third time since they’d entered the store, Luke went after Brooke while Val chased down Traci. Seconds later, he appeared at the end of the aisle that Val had cornered Traci in. “I’ve got mine,” he announced proudly, carrying Brooke on his shoulders.

  With Traci perched on her hip, Val heaved a sigh.

  “Go home,” Traci chanted.

  Val kissed her cheek. “A wonderful idea.”

  “What are we having to eat?” Luke asked almost within seconds after they entered the house.

  Val had given dinner no thought. Toys, not food, had been on her mind. After last night’s greasy hamburgers, she had planned to serve the twins healthy fare. “Salad and…”

  “Pizza,” the girls yelled.

  Mr. Junk Food was no help. “Sounds good to me.”

  They cheered.

  Tying Traci’s sneaker, Val suddenly felt like the only adult in the room. “You should lose your medical license. If any of your patients ever knew what a junk food addict you are, they’d never take any of your advice.” With some maternal guilt rising, she admitted, “I gave them hamburgers and French fries last night.”

  “Tomorrow we’ll whip up-”

  He grew silent. Val knew why. How long had it been since they’d thought in terms of we? “Okay, pizza. But I’m making a salad.”

  “Yeah, pizza!” The girls dashed into the living room and raced for a small plastic wagon.

  “Traci, ride,” she yelled.

  Val stood still, waiting for the battle to begin. With a peek around the doorjamb, she saw Brooke struggling to pull her sister who was sitting like a queen in her coach. “I don’t believe it. They didn’t argue,” she said while taking plates from a cabinet. “Do you think that once they feel comfortable here, they’ll calm down?”

  In fascination, Luke watched late-afternoon sunshine dance across Val’s hair with her movement between the refrigerator and the counter. “We hope.”

  “Yes, we hope,” she answered. Again the we.

  If her pulse scrambled a little when he was near, that was natural, Val told herself. She knew so much about him. The way he peppered eggs until a layer of black specks covered them, his weakness for sci-fi movies, his interest in documentaries about animals.

  Behind her, he talked on the phone and ordered the pizza. For more times than she could count, she’d listened to his chuckling when he read the comics in the Sunday newspaper, had heard his earthy frustrations when he lost a patient, had melted beneath his caresses and whispered words during lovemaking. All that was him was a part of her. It would be impossible to believe she’d ever forget any of that. But just as she wasn’t the same woman he’d married, the man she remembered didn’t really exist anymore. Both of those people had gotten lost in a sea of tragedy.

  Luke hung the receiver back in its cradle, then pulled out a cutting board and joined her at the counter.

  “What was the idea you were going to tell me when Irene came in?” Val asked over the water rushing onto the tomato in her hand.

  “The biggest problem we’re having is finding a place for all of the twins’ toys. Right?”

  Val turned off the water and began shredding carrots. “I’d say that was part of the problem.”

  “Okay, so why don’t I give up my den for a playroom?”

  She stopped shredding the carrot in her hand. “It’s always been a quiet place for you to do work at home. I don’t know where you’d go to do that.”

  “I’ll leave my desk there, but we’ll set up the rest of the room for the girls. We talked about doing that when you…”

  “When I was expecting Kelly.” She tried to keep sadness at bay, but a hint of it crept into her voice. “I forgot we were going to do that.”

  Luke had forgotten nothing of her pregnancy, not the morning sickness or her joy in shopping for baby things, or the difficult labor. Nothing.

  Val fought the pressure crowding her throat. She wouldn’t dwell on any of that now. “I think it would be a really good idea.”

  Though her eyes remained solemn, her lips curved in a slim, uncertain smile. There was a strength emerging from her that he hadn’t seen in months.

  Glancing at the girls seated on the floor and thumbing through picture books, Val visualized the rest of the house returning to normal. This is a big adjustment for all of us, she realized.

  “Were you telling my mother the truth about not moving?”

  “Yes. Everything has changed. I couldn’t go to Houston right now.”

  “So no move?”

  “No move,” she answered.

  Through dinner, the girls picked at their salads but consumed the pizza with gusto. While tomato sauce only smudged the edges of Brooke’s lips, Traci wore it.

  Squinching up her nose, Traci peeled an olive off her pizza and handed it to Brooke. “Yucky,” she decla
red.

  For no more than a second, Brooke eyed the olive in her hand with pure disgust. “Yucky.” Her blond head tipped to the side as she watched the olive’s descent to the floor.

  Val bent to retrieve the olive while Traci tugged on Luke’s sleeve. “Milk, pease.” Impatient as usual, she reached for it just as Luke did. The glass tipped, sloshing milk onto the table. “You did it,” she scolded him.

  Luke couldn’t stop a grin.

  “Stop that,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Not funny.”

  In his whole life, he’d never pictured an evening like this, with him being chastised by a two year old.

  “Wanna get down,” Traci insisted, lifting herself from the high chair seat.

  “Awl done,” Brooke sang out, raising her arms to Luke.

  “You have to wash up before you can play,” Val said, picking up Traci.

  Already crawling under the table, Brooke noisily dumped blocks.

  Val held her arm open to her. “Brooke, come on.”

  Engrossed in stacking the blocks, Brooke fell back on the floor, indicating she had no intention of doing anything. As if sensing power in unity, Traci copied her sister’s actions and howled.

  With little choice, Val picked up Brooke. She didn’t look back. She heard Traci’s wail intensifying and knew Luke had grabbed her.

  The bathroom resounded with their blood-curdling cries. But the minute the water rushed from the spigot, both girls quieted and play began. Four little hands floated in the washbasin at the same time. Enthusiastically, the twins lathered soap all over their arms, splashing the sink and the wall.

  Her shirt drenched, Val dried their hands and watched them merrily race out of the bathroom as if they’d never caused a ruckus.

  “I love a challenge,” Luke murmured, yanking off his wet shirt.

  Val laughed with him before she stepped into the hallway. “Expect a lot of them,” she said, and looked back. Instantly she wished she hadn’t. Her gaze shifted to his broad, masculine chest. Smooth and toned and well-muscled. God, he looked wonderful. It had been so long since she’d seen so much of his flesh.

  Her heart pounding, her throat suddenly dry, she watched his eyes flicker from hers to her mouth. Stop this. Don’t complicate everything. She moved away quickly. That her pulse was beating faster was easy to explain. Reflex, she told herself. Nothing more. He was her husband, almost her ex. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that he was only playing happy husband.

  Luke followed her out, flicking off the light and wandering through the darkening hallway. In passing, he glanced at the bed in their bedroom. By her reaction a minute ago, he had a distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to enjoy that soft mattress tonight.

  Val decided the smart thing was to keep her distance from him. With the girls, she curled up on the sofa to watch a Disney movie. To her relief, when Luke came down the steps, he disappeared into his den to call Fred Henderson about patients. They wouldn’t even be together now if it weren’t for the twins, she reminded herself more than once while she watched the cartoon characters.

  When the movie came to an end, she kissed the top of each girl’s head. She’d been trying to keep close to the schedule Carrie had for them. “It’s time for bed. As soon as we pick up the toys.”

  Traci resisted, snuggling closer. Brooke scrambled off the sofa and plopped down beside the miniature tea set. Instead of putting toys together, she pulled out another doll.

  “Brooke,” Val said softly. “Let’s put the toys away.”

  Intent now on talking to her doll, Brooke shook her head as she scurried across the room to retrieve another doll. “Lu-cas do it,” she said the moment she spotted him coming out of his den.

  Whatever she was volunteering him for, he wasn’t interested. “No, you do it,” he said firmly.

  In a huff, clearly feeling put upon, she plopped onto the floor. Pushing out her lower lip, she lifted each toy in the manner of an octogenarian afflicted with severe and painful arthritis.

  “This is going to take all night,” Luke muttered, aware now what she’d been trying to hustle him into doing for her.

  Val discerned some kind of compromise was needed. “Okay, tonight we’ll help.”

  Raising her face, Brooke rewarded her with a lipsplitting grin.

  Luke sidled close. “You know what that look means,” he mumbled in Val’s ear. “Sucker.”

  The heat of his breath so close was unsettling. Val took a step away. She’d heard amusement more than criticism in his voice and relied on humor to keep the mood casual. “Speak for yourself.” Smiling, she dropped to the floor with an enticement. “I bet I can put more away than either of you can,” she said to both of the girls.

  Traci shook her head. “Uh-uh.”

  “Bet I can.”

  “Me can.” Brooke scooped up several blocks and let them clamor to the bottom of the box. Across from her, Traci raced to grab some.

  Val did her best not to look too smug.

  Half an hour later the twins were bathed and dressed in pajamas. Timing was everything, Val believed. If she waited too long, they might get their second wind. After urging them into bed, she started reading the books they’d chosen. With the sound of Traci’s yawn, Val skipped a line to speed up the story.

  “No, Vali,” Brooke countered, shaking her head.

  Carrie had told Val the girls knew the stories word for word and wouldn’t accept even a slight change in the reading. Val backed up several lines to read the story as it was written.

  Retreating into themselves, their eyes grew dreamylooking. Val finished the story, then descended the steps and motioned upward to Luke. “They’re waiting for your good-night.” As he passed her on the stairs, she offered advice. “Don’t get conned. I already read them a book.”

  In the kitchen, she poured a glass of juice. Though exhausted, she snatched a book from the top of the refrigerator. As good as the story was, Val had doubts she’d make it through one chapter before falling asleep. With the book tucked under her arm and the glass of juice in her hand, she strolled from the kitchen toward the steps.

  Already slouched on a chair in the living room, Luke was dawdling over a last cup of coffee.

  Val detoured and dropped to the sofa. “Are the twins asleep?”

  “After I read the ending of one book.” As her hand fluttered across the book she’d laid in her lap, his gaze fixed on her fingers and the rings he’d slid on one of them four years ago.

  “The one with the baby giraffe?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “No wonder they know it word for word.” She sipped her juice. “Did the guys at the office interview anyone yet for the receptionist’s job?”

  “Tomorrow.” The conversation didn’t interest him. He wanted to know where he was sleeping tonight. “They’re going to talk to Jolene Rizer. She seems like a good candidate.”

  Their choice pleased her. Jolene, a young, single mother, was trying to start over after a messy divorce. Val wiggled her toes in her sneakers, wishing she was already in bed. Feeling lazy and too content just sitting still, she had to force herself to a stand. She reached the stairs and looked over her shoulder to say good-night to Luke.

  He hadn’t moved, but he was staring at her, studying her. “Since I’m sleeping here, where am I supposed to do that?”

  Another problem, Val mused. This one was monumental. They hadn’t shared a bed in weeks. Even before that, contact had stopped. They definitely needed to talk-again. “It seems easier to me-well, it’s best if we keep everything platonic.”

  A half grin cut a deep crease into his cheek. “’Platonic’?”

  “Yes. I thought that was understood,” she said, nervous suddenly as he stood and moved so only inches separated them.

  Though he wanted to, Luke didn’t pull her closer, didn’t lower his head, but desire taunted him. It had been so damn long since they’d kissed. Her skin tempting him, he stroked a knuckle across her throat.

/>   “I know this isn’t an easy situation.” She could barely think with his eyes, dark and restless, on her and the warmth of his breath fanning her face. As he continued to caress her, she placed a hand on his forearm to stop him and felt his muscle tense beneath her fingers. “I thought it would be best if you slept in your den,” she said a little breathless and nudged his hand away.

  “My den?” Luke wasn’t sure if he was amused, frustrated or furious. “What about appearances’ sake, that kind of stuff?”

  “We’re in our own home. In here, we’re getting a divorce.” She was amazed she was actually making sense.

  “And out there,” he asked, his voice quiet and smooth, almost lulling, “we’re madly in love?”

  Her skin warm, she struggled to remind him, “We’ve been married four years.” Quit looking at me like that. “People don’t expect us to act like honeymooners.”

  Fooling them wouldn’t be hard, Luke decided. But could they fool themselves? Before he said more, Val squeezed by him to hike up the steps. For a seconda breathtaking one-she’d nearly swayed against him.

  She changed clothes then tumbled into bed. Three times she shifted to find a comfortable position.

  Fluffing her pillow, she stretched her legs. She was overtired. That’s all that was wrong. She’d kept pace with the twins, fueled by caffeine. That explained, too, why she couldn’t sleep now. Why she kept imagining Luke’s long legs and sturdy frame cramped on the settee in his den.

  Chapter Four

  On a groan, Luke eased himself upright on the settee and glanced toward the French windows in his den. No light. Not even the hint of dawn. Yawning, he didn’t consider sleep. A foot too short for him, the settee had already gotten the best of him. Standing, he yanked on his jeans, buttoning them as he ambled out of the den.

  Before he padded up the dark stairway to the bathroom, he called his service. A message from Fred Henderson about him having an emergency meant telling Val that they’d have to postpone moving the furniture out of his den until later.