THREE

CHRISSY, STEPHEN, AND THE BABIES WERE TO ARRIVE around dinnertime. Susan had spent the past three weeks reorganizing, cleaning, and childproofing her home and she was showing the results of this hard work to Nadine Baines, her new next-door neighbor.

“… Chrissy and Stephen will stay in her old room as they always do. I had it redecorated right after they were married, so all I had to do in there was empty the closet. I’ve been using it to store clothing that I… well, that I wasn’t wearing.” Susan decided not to explain that she wouldn’t be wearing those clothes again until she lost the ten pounds she had gained in the past two years. She didn’t want that particular information spread all over town and Nadine Baines did love to gossip.

“I turned our guest room into a nursery.” Susan opened a door farther down the hallway and stood back so the other woman could peer in. “Fortunately it’s large enough for two babies and all their stuff.”

“This is absolutely adorable!”

“Do you think so?” Actually, Susan thought so, too. After many hours of indecision, she had chosen a fairy-tale theme. Wanting lots of bright colors and animals, she had found a local artist to paint a room-sized mural depicting her favorites. Little Red Riding Hood was strolling through the woods, carrying an impossibly large straw basket to the right of the doorway. After a few feet, the mossy forest path to grandmother’s house became a cobblestone road leading up a flowery peak to Cinderella’s castle. Knights leaving that castle continued down the path on the other side, their horses clad in chamfrons and poitrels, and their banners spread out across a lapis blue sky as they paraded toward a gleaming sword embedded in a large gray stone. Right behind the stone, three houses, each with a pig lounging nearby, lined the dirt path that led to a thatched roof dwelling. A lovely young woman leaned out of the top of the dwelling’s Dutch door, waving to seven dwarfs as they marched off to greet two children on their way to a house fashioned from candy and cookies. At the far side of the witch’s house of sweets, the path turned into a stream where a scruffy looking baby bird tailed a flock of geese. A little mermaid watched from a rock nearby.

The room’s two windows had been hung with white muslin which Susan herself had stenciled with a fantasy collection of animals, flowers, stars, suns, and moons. Two white cribs were covered with quilts, now appropriately personalized, as well as matching sheets, blankets, and see-through crib bumpers. A pair of changing tables stood nearby. Deep wall-to-wall mossy green carpeting covered the floor. The alcove between the windows was Susan’s favorite spot in the room. A carefully chosen selection of children’s books shared a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf with a new CD player and a collection of CDs appropriate for children’s listening. Two rocking chairs, lined with plush pillows, were ready for late night feedings. Susan couldn’t wait.

“You have so many closets,” Nadine said, looking at the three doors.

“Only two. The other door leads to a bathroom. And the bathroom is connected to what used to be my sewing room. I turned it into a place for the baby nurse to sleep… just temporarily,” Susan added, leading her guest into that room.

Susan’s sewing machine had been pushed into the far corner of the room and covered with a flowered sheet. A narrow single bed was made up with matching sheets. Susan had emptied the top two drawers of the dresser and half of the small closet. She didn’t understand why Rosie and Ethan needed a baby nurse when they were going to have a grandmother available twenty-four hours a day and this room showed it.

“This should be comfortable,” Nadine said.

“I’d better get back downstairs. I have to take the leg of lamb out of the refrigerator…”

“Yum. Leg of lamb. My favorite.” Nadine followed Susan out into the hallway. “Are you going to roast it with garlic and rosemary?”

“Not this time. It’s marinating in a mixture of raspberry vinegar, whole grain mustard, and herbs. Chrissy loves it. I’ll give you the recipe if you would like,” Susan offered.

“Oh, I don’t have time to fuss with fancy meals. You can just ask us over for dinner the next time you make it.”

Susan laughed, although she wasn’t absolutely sure Nadine was kidding. “I suppose I’d better get started in the kitchen,” she said, hoping Nadine would take the hint and leave.

“I’ll keep you company.”

“Oh… great.” Susan was too polite to say anything else. Maybe Nadine would get bored and go home. Nadine, however, discovered the real estate section of the local paper occupying the middle of Susan’s large pine kitchen table and sat down to enjoy herself.

“Are you planning on moving?” Nadine asked, flipping through the pages.

“No, I thought that Chrissy and her husband might want to look at what’s available locally.”

“Oh… We looked at this house. Gorgeous outside, but a real dump inside. You should have seen the bathrooms. Tacky linoleum on the floor, old square tiles on the walls and the original fixtures.” She shuddered as though describing the bleakest buildings in an urban slum rather than a spacious ranch built in the late 1950s and standing on land now worth more than a million dollars without improvements. “And you wouldn’t believe what they wanted for it.”

“I would,” Susan said. She had been shocked to find herself on the other side of the real estate game Connecticut style. After decades of being thrilled by the growing worth of her own home, she had come face-to-face with the reality of young couples looking for their first home-prices way beyond their budgets.

“Well, remember Donald if you’re seriously looking in the area. No one knows more about real estate in Connecticut than Donald. He’s got a lot of inside info and I’m sure he’d be happy to find a real deal for your daughter.”

“If we start looking seriously, I’m sure having a real estate broker living next door will come in handy,” Susan agreed.

Nadine continued to comment on the homes for sale and the real estate market in general while Susan prepared dinner. She was making a leek tart and garlic mashed potatoes to go with the lamb and she was rummaging through the cabinet where she stored her baking pans when Clue began to bark.

“I wonder who…?” It was a question Susan didn’t have to complete. Two large bullmastiffs plunged into the kitchen, followed by a hysterical golden retriever. Nadine’s startled scream then joined the wails of an exhausted baby-or two-from the hallway. Susan rushed to open the door into her backyard so the dogs could become reacquainted without destroying the house just as Chrissy and Stephen, each with a baby tucked into a baby carrier, entered the room. They looked so tired. The baby nurse, whose name Susan could not remember at the moment, brought up the rear. Bags and boxes were slipping from her arms and Susan hurried over to clean off a spot on the counter-and realized that the lamb roast had disappeared.

“Shit!”

“Mother!” Chrissy was clearly outraged. “We don’t talk like that in front of our children.”

Susan, stunned by the mayhem of the past few minutes as well as the fact that her daughter had just corrected her language, explained. “One of your dogs seems to have stolen our main course.”

“No. It was about to fall on the floor when they ran past, so I grabbed it,” Nadine explained. She was standing in the corner, holding the ceramic bowl in the air and frowning.

“Oh, thank you, Nadine. Let me introduce you to the rest of my family,” Susan began.

“Is there someplace I can put these things?” The baby nurse spoke up.

“Of course,” Susan said, not looking away from her grandchildren. “The babies are sleeping in the nursery-I redid our old guest room.”

“The third door on the left at the top of the stairs,” Chrissy explained.

Susan was still staring at the twins. “They’ve grown! In just two weeks, they’ve grown!”

“The pediatrician says they’re the healthiest twins she’s ever seen.” Chrissy leaned over her children with a proud smile.

“I think Ethan has more hair, too,” his grandmother continued.

“But Rosie’s blonder,” Chrissy pointed out.

“Yes-”

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Nadine said. “Susan, will you be home later?”

“I… I guess so.” The question surprised her.

“I’ll call you then… a bit later. Okay?”

“Sure. Whenever you want.”

“Who was that?” Stephen asked, as the door closed behind Nadine.

“Nadine Baines. She and her husband Donald moved in next door a few months ago,” Susan explained. “I meant to introduce you, but in the confusion-”

“You’re going to have to learn to ignore the confusion. There seems to be a lot of it wherever we go,” Stephen said, bending down to pick up the bootie that Ethan had just managed to pull off his foot.

“Oh, look, he can undress himself already,” said the proud grandmother.

“I don’t think he actually intended to do that,” Stephen, a literal young man, explained earnestly.

Susan, remembering one of the reasons she loved her son-in-law, smiled. “Why don’t we take the babies upstairs and I can show you their room?”

“Good idea. I’m sure Ethan needs changing. It’s been over an hour since we stopped on the turnpike and his diaper was dry then so it won’t be now. Did you call a diaper service, Mom?”

“I thought you’d be using disposables-”

“No way! We’d be broke in a week. Besides, disposable diapers aren’t at all ecological. You know there’s very little room left in most landfills.”

“Oh. Why don’t I show you the nursery and then we can get the phone book and make some calls? You won’t mind using Pampers for a few days until we can get a service organized, will you?”

“Of course not. We’re using disposables now. We didn’t want to carry dirty diapers with us.” Chrissy turned to her husband. “Maybe you should start unloading the car. Mother and I better get the babies changed or we’ll never eat.”

“Where do you want everything to go?” he asked.

“Bring our suitcases and the baby things upstairs and…” Chrissy looked at her mother.

“If you have household stuff with you, we can store it in the garage or the basement,” she offered.

“I was thinking about our computers…,” Chrissy began.

“Put them in your father’s study. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“And I brought along some art supplies. I’ve gotten very interested in watercolor since my pregnancy. I’ve been try-ing to paint some while the twins nap, but it can be sort of messy.”

Susan was a firm believer in mothers pursuing their own interests. “Do you think you could work in your brother’s room? He won’t be home from Cornell for five weeks.”

“I’ll set up an easel on his desk. There’s even good light from his window,” Chrissy said enthusiastically. “Take my stuff up there,” she told Stephen. “Come on, Mom. Shannon can help Stephen with the baby stuff.”

Susan started to undo the strap holding Rosie in her carrier.

“What are you doing?” Chrissy cried.

“I thought we should carry them upstairs and leave these down here.”

“We can, but this is a safe way of carrying them both at once. And it will get the carriers out of your way.”

“Oh, I don’t mind having their things around,” Susan assured Chrissy, lifting Rosie up to snuggle against her chest. “I’d forgotten how small babies are,” she said to herself.

“By the end of the day they sometimes seem pretty heavy,” Chrissy said, picking up her son.

Susan looked at her daughter. “You look tired. Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I’m fine. It’s just that having twins and then packing up the apartment in two weeks and then driving up here-it’s tiring.”

“Isn’t Shannon working out?” Susan asked.

“We can’t imagine going through this without her. She’s a godsend.” Chrissy hefted Ethan’s carrier up on her hip. “We’d better remember to get water for Rock and Roll when we come back down.”

“They’ll be fine. I already filled three large bowls and placed them outside on the patio,” Susan explained, feeling very organized.

“Then let’s go see the nursery.”

“I-” The phone’s ring interrupted Susan before she could say more. Rosie began to wail again, but Ethan dozed on. “I’ll get that and be right up.”

“Great.” Chrissy continued on upstairs as Susan grabbed the receiver off the phone on the hall table. When she joined her daughter and grandchildren, a frown was on her face.

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