I immediately felt old insecurity.
“What?”
He said,
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
He smiled.
“You look beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Nice save.”
“No.”
He leaned against the doorway.
“I mean it.”
I looked at him.
Then said,
“You used to be really stupid.”
He laughed.
“Yes.”
“Very.”
“Yes.”
“Painfully.”
He nodded.
“Can I still say beautiful?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
He kissed my forehead.
Then went downstairs to burn pancakes.
That was our life.
Imperfect.
Loud.
Sometimes ridiculous.
Respectful.
Mostly.
One Thanksgiving, David raised a toast.
Richard immediately groaned.
David smiled.
“To triplets.”
Everyone laughed.
Then he continued.
“To Claire.”
My eyes widened.
“And to Richard.”
Richard looked suspicious.
David said,
“For proving a grown man can survive being told he’s wrong.”
Everyone laughed.
Richard raised his glass.
“Barely.”
Then David looked at me.
“And for proving nobody should be ashamed of a body that carried three people.”
The room softened.
I looked at my children.
They were old enough now to understand some things.
Not everything.
Grace asked,
“What is he talking about?”
Richard answered.
“Your mom had some health problems after you three were born.”
Lily frowned.
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