He pauses. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“What does that mean?”
“I left at halftime.”
“YOU WHAT?”
He chuckles. “I heard my woman was in labor and took off in a private jet.”
The nurse hands me a towel that’s connected to the birthing bar. I push and groan and grunt and scream for the next two hours. I’m miserable and everything hurts. In between pushes, I make Olly give me the rundown of his game. As he describes that killer touchdown he made in the second quarter, I’m smiling even though my guts feel like they might shoot out my ass.
“For the love of God, get your phone and find out what happened.”
He has dozens of messages, which he scrolls through to read one from Cam. You turned the game around for us, bro! After that TD, we were unstoppable. Tell Maggie we beat Northwestern for her! When we land, a bunch of us are headed for the hospital waiting room. See you soon!
Olly turns to me. “One win down and one more to go. Let’s do this.” He sits next to me and wraps his arms around my back. “Push back against me if you need to. I got you.”
Teary-eyed, I smile, my heart suddenly full. “I know you do.”
And that’s when Jude and Levi Oliver decide to join us.
70
MAGGIE
Somewhere, a baby cries.
Crap. That’s my baby.
Bleary-eyed, I try to drag myself out of bed, but Michael beats me to it. “I got him. Go back to sleep.”
“The milk… it’s in the fridge. Next to…” I’m so tired, I can’t think straight.
“Next to the juice. Got it.”
Olly reaches down to the mini-fridge Bash gave us and pulls out a bottle he pops into the warmer. I mostly breastfeed, but my mom encouraged me to pump extra so I can get a break sometimes.
I glance at the clock. It’s almost three in the morning. My attention returns to Olly, who pads to the small cribs we set up next to the bed. He bends over and lifts out our son. “Hungry, little man? Let’s take care of that diaper first.”
I’m not sure when he became an expert on babies, but Olly can do it all—diapers, feedings, burping. If it can be expelled from a child, he can deal with it. And without the squeamishness I get from Bash, who gags if he smells a dirty diaper.
Honestly, Michael’s amazed me. Sienna told me he babysat for his teammates. I guess I didn’t believe it until I saw him in action with my own eyes.
He and I haven’t talked about the billboard yet. I’ve been hesitant to break this spell, the one where we just deal with the boys and try to get a handle on life. His professors are letting him do remote learning for the next two weeks, as long as he checks in with them daily online. And Santos said Olly can weight-train from home for a few days. He still has to attend practice in the afternoons, but it’s been a huge relief to have him around more until I get my bearings.
“How are we going to repay Sienna?” I whisper as I stare at all the baby gear.
“When I get drafted, I’ll write her a check,” he says, not skipping a beat as he swaddles one of the twins. “Although she might fight us on that.”
We came home from the hospital to find our living room filled with all the things we would need—cribs, bottles, diapers, wipes, a breast pump, and dozens of the cutest onesies you’ve ever seen.
Olly has just gotten settled on the rocker when another squawk comes from the other crib. “Sorry, babe. I was hoping to get you some sleep.”
“It’s okay. Appreciate the effort.” Cautiously, I slide out of bed. My parts are still sore, but it’s getting better. “Who’s this baby?” I can’t really tell them apart unless I look at their outfits. We dress Jude in solids and Levi in prints so we can keep them straight.
I peer over the crib to find a pair of big blue eyes staring back at me. It’s like staring at a baby Olly, except his hair is dark like mine. It’s too early to tell if the boys’ eyes will darken or if they’ll stay light. Regardless, I’m in love with them.
Picking up Levi, I kiss his precious cheek. “How’s my snugglebug?”
