Spiralling Skywards: Fading (Contradictions, #2)(51)

I set the pasta I was just rinsing in the sink, turned around, took one look at my husband’s handsome face, and burst into tears.

“Sarah, what the fuck? What’s wrong? Did the doctor say something?”

He took both my hands and led me over to the dining table. Before he could ask me again, Carter came running from the playroom.

“Daddy. I’ve been good and mummy let me have purples and Isabella wants to be my friend really but I still want the new bubby in Mummy’s belly to be a brother not a sister.”

Liam’s features flicked through different emotions as he tried to make sense of what Carter was telling him.

“Hey, bud. Come here and give me a love. Then, I want you to go and play with your purples again for a bit while I talk to Mummy.”

Carter climbed across me to reach Liam as he shouted, “Nosey!” before rubbing his nose against Liam’s.

Climbing down he pressed his face into my belly and shouted, “Bye, brother, when you come out, you can play with my purples, too.” Then he ran back to the playroom.

“What the fuck is he on? What did you feed him today?”

I sucked in my cheeks and tried to hold in my sob, but I just ended up making a squeaking kind of noise.

“Okay, bub, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”

I wiped my eyes on the sleeves of my hoodie so that I could see him clearly.

“Carter just told you.”

“Carter just came out here and rambled a whole load of things. Which particular thing has made you cry like this?”

Liam held out his fist and uncurled a finger as he went through his list. “Purples, Isawotsit, brother—” He got halfway through a shrug when it clicked.

“No? No fucking way?”

I nodded. He grinned.

“Fuck, my sperm are supersonic. You’re pregnant?”

I nodded again. “That’s why you’re crying?”

Another nod.

“But we said we’d have one more.”

“The twins are only just over three months old, they won’t even be one when this new baby’s born.”

“Babe, Carter’ll be at school full time. You’ll be fine. We’ve got this. We’ve got this like we’ve got everything else that’s been thrown our way.”

“I’m scared.”

“What have I told you, pretty girl? Don’t be scared, don’t ever be scared. There’s you, and there’s me, and now there’s our babies. It’s all gonna be good.”

And it was. I had a textbook pregnancy. No sickness. No high blood pressure, and no C-section. After a four-hour labour with just gas, air, and a whole lot of swear words, Lucas Jackson Delaney was born ten days after his due date and weighed a healthy six pounds eight ounces. Our family was complete.

***

Having four children all under the age of five was exhausting, especially as Carter had started school in the September, which meant I had to have four children up and out by eight thirty every morning.

Liam had taken two weeks off after Lucas was born which had been a massive help. Because everything had been straightforward that time around, we were allowed home after just twelve hours and had soon all settled into a routine quickly. Liam had gone back to work the day before, which was the last time I had seen him. I was in bed when he got home and still sleeping when he went back out that morning. I also knew he was going to be late that night because he had a meeting in the city. It was my first full day alone with all four of my children, but I felt good about things. The morning had gone well, with no dramas and Carter had been dropped off in plenty of time to start his day.

We had figured out a routine for loading and unloading a car full of children, and after returning from the school pick up, I took Carter and the baby into the house first and then went back for the twins.

I had left a sleeping Lucas in his car seat on the kitchen floor and asked Carter to be a big boy and watch him for me. I managed to get both twins out of the car, but as I was trying to shut the car door without dropping anything or anyone, Lucas started to scream.

He was hysterical in his car seat by the time I got into the house, and Carter was in the pantry, looking for food as was normal when he first got home from school.

“What happened, little man?”

I undid the harness and lifted him out. “Carter what happened, big man? Why’s the bubby crying?”

“I don’t know. Can I have a narna?”

“Did you eat the one in your lunch box?”

He nodded.

“No, then. I have some grapes in the fridge, want those?” He nodded again.

With a now calming Lucas cradled in one arm, I used my free hand to slice grapes into quarters and divided them into three bowls. I then had to put the baby back into his car seat, listen to him scream blue bloody murder, wrangle the twins into their high chairs, and sit Carter at the table. When the twins and Carter were situated with their grapes, I bent to pick Lucas up again. It was as I was taking his coat off that I found the bite mark across two of his knuckles. A couple of the indentations had broken the skin, and the rest looked purple and very sore.

“Carter!” I never shouted at the kids, but the mumma bear inside me was raging. It didn’t matter in that single red-tinged moment that Carter was one of my own, my instinct was to defend the baby. So yeah, I shouted out his name, which made all the kids jump and the youngest three started to cry.