The shopping trip had been a success, though not without its complications.
Franz had worn a disguise—baseball cap pulled low, casual clothes, the kind of nondescript outfit that allowed him to move through public spaces without attracting attention. It wasn’t a perfect solution, and he’d been recognized twice, but both times the fans had been respectful enough to keep their distance after a quick wave. The twins had been fascinated by this. They rarely went out in public with Franz, and the experience of watching strangers recognize their uncle while he pretended to be ordinary was, in Lily’s words, "extremely interesting and also a little bit weird."
The grocery store had been their primary destination, but it had expanded into something larger. They needed to restock the pantry and the refrigerator in preparation for the baby’s arrival—the weeks following the birth would be hectic, and Aunt Estella wanted to make sure they had everything they needed without having to send someone out for supplies. The twins had been given their own cart, which they had filled with items they deemed essential for their soon-to-arrive sibling.
"Babies need snacks," Lily had explained, placing a box of animal crackers into the cart. "Not these snacks. Different snacks. But snacks."
"Soft snacks," Leo had typed, and Lily had nodded solemnly and added a package of teething biscuits.
By the time they reached the checkout, four carts were filled to capacity. One of them, the twins’ cart, contained a mix of baby toys, picture books, a package of dinosaur-patterned socks, and enough snacks to feed a small army of infants. The cashier had looked at the haul with something between amusement and bewilderment.
"Are you stocking a nursery or a daycare?" she’d asked.
"Both," Lily had replied. "We’re being prepared."
Now, hours later, the groceries were unpacked and the pantry was full and the refrigerator hummed with the deep satisfaction of being completely stocked. The twins had insisted on helping put everything away, which meant the process had taken three times as long as it should have but had been considerably more entertaining. Arianne had watched from her seat at the kitchen counter, her hand resting on the massive curve of her belly, unable to do much more than offer occasional directions.
At thirty-eight weeks, she had entered the final stretch. The baby could come any day now—or he could wait another two weeks, stubborn and comfortable and in no hurry to enter the world. Dr. Johnson had said everything looked good. The baby was in position. The nursery was ready. The birth plan was in place. The hospital bag had been packed and repacked twice. All that remained was the waiting, and Arianne had never been good at waiting.
Now it was late afternoon, and the house had settled into its familiar rhythm. Aunt Estella was in the kitchen, discussing the meal plan she had prepared for Arianne’s postpartum recovery with Franz. The television in the sitting room was playing some nature documentary that no one was really watching, the volume turned low. And on the couch, Arianne sat with the twins on either side of her.
Leo was holding the Lion.
The whale was currently drying after a thorough bath—Aunt Estella had declared it in desperate need of cleaning after months of being carried everywhere, and Leo had reluctantly surrendered it on the condition that it be returned to him as soon as it was dry. In its absence, he had retrieved the Lion from the nursery, where it had been keeping watch over the baby’s empty crib. The doll was worn and faded, its mended arm a visible reminder of the fight that had torn it apart and the careful restoration that had put it back together.
Lily was studying Arianne’s belly with fixed attention, her brow pulled in, as if she expected it to do something new.
"The baby got so big," she said. "Really big. How did he get so big?"
"He’s been growing for a long time. Whatever I eat and drink, he gets too."
Leo’s eyes widened. He reached for his tablet, balanced on the arm of the couch, and typed quickly: CAN BABY TELL IF FOOD IS YUMMY?
"I read somewhere that they can. They can taste flavors through the amniotic fluid. But I’m not certain if it’s true."
Leo considered this. Then he typed: SO IF YOU EAT BROCCOLI, BABY EATS BROCCOLI?
"Yes."
DOES BABY LIKE BROCCOLI?
"I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him when he’s born."
Leo nodded, tucking the information away. Lily, meanwhile, had been eyeing Arianne’s belly with a new expression—something between curiosity and reverence.
"Can I touch it?" she asked. "Your belly. I want to see if the baby is awake."
Arianne nodded. Lily reached out and placed her small hand very gently on the top of Arianne’s stomach. Her palm was warm through the fabric of Arianne’s dress.
"Hi, baby," Lily said, her voice soft and serious. "I’m your Big Sister Lily. Are you awake?"
Nothing happened. Then the baby moved—a slow, rolling pressure against Lily’s palm, as if he was turning toward the sound of her voice.
Lily squealed. "He moved! He heard me! The baby knows I’m his big sister!"
Leo immediately pushed forward. "Me too," he said. The words were clear. "I want to. Say hi. Too."
Lily withdrew her hand, and Leo replaced it with his own. He pressed his palm against Arianne’s belly, his dark eyes wide and serious. "Hi," he said, the word careful and precise. "Lil brother." There was a small slip on the second word, the L sound blurring, but the meaning was unmistakable.
The baby moved again. A strong, definite kick this time, right against Leo’s palm.
Leo’s face broke into the widest smile Arianne had ever seen on him. It transformed his whole expression—the watchful boy replaced, for an instant, by someone purely happy. She hadn’t known, until that moment, how much she’d needed to see it.
"He knows," Leo said. "He knows. Me."
"Yes," Arianne said. "He knows you."