“I’m always so thankful you’re the one who does the backing on,” Linda said. “I stink at that.”
“I gotcha, love. We wouldn’t want you backing into the water, now would we?”
“Haha, like that’s even possible.”
He kept an eye in the mirror as he smoothly backed the truck onto the ferry. “You’d find a way.” Seamus had arranged it so they’d be the last ones on and the first ones off.
Island life had few disadvantages as far as Big Mac McCarthy was concerned. But at a time like this, when his son and daughter-in-law had welcomed quadruplets on the mainland, he was chafing at the drawn-out process of getting from point A to point B. If he’d had his way, they would’ve been with the kids the night before, but that hadn’t been possible.
Abby’s parents were also heading over today, on a later boat, and similarly eager to get there.
He and Linda left the truck on the lower level and took the stairs to get more coffee and a breakfast sandwich at the snack bar. They had their pick of the tables this time of year, when it would often be standing room only in the summer. As they cleared the breakwater to leave South Harbor, the boat bobbed in the late autumn seas.
Linda cast a wary look out the window at the rolling waves and pushed the rest of her sandwich across the table to him. “I hope I don’t regret eating that.”
“You’ll be fine. You’re an old hand at this by now.”
“Who you calling old?”
He smiled. “Not my gorgeous wife. She’s timeless.”
“Right, but that was a good recovery.”
“Besides, nothing can ever be worse than your first ride to the island.”
“That is very true. You’re lucky I came back a second time.”
“As you certainly know, you coming back and deciding to live on my island with me was the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“As if it was ever a decision. I wanted to be where you were. Still do, for some strange reason.”
The seas got rougher when they cleared the island’s northern shore.
Big Mac reached a hand across to his wife, who held on tightly. “Remember, four babies at the other end of this ride.”
“That’s all I’m thinking about. I can’t wait to kiss those little faces.”
* * *
Adam and Abby had quickly discovered that caring for four newborns along with a cranky two-year-old in the mix was a nonstop process. They’d get one baby changed and fed, only to repeat the process three more times while trying to keep Liam entertained and safe—all without so much as fifteen minutes of sleep for any of them—except Liam—all night long. Upon the advice of the lactation specialist, Abby was attempting to combine breastfeeding with formula, since she wouldn’t be able to keep up with four breastfeeding babies.
“Holy shit,” Adam said to Abby in a brief lull around eight o’clock in the morning when Liam was settled in a recliner chair with cereal and Bluey on TV and all four babies were pacified—for the moment, anyway.
“Literally.”
They quietly cracked up laughing as Adam stretched out on the bed next to her.
“I had no idea that brand-new babies could produce that much poo,” she said. “They haven’t even eaten much of anything yet.”
“I think they came preloaded.”
That led to more quiet laughter, because God forbid they should disturb any of their five children during this moment of peace and quiet.
Liam had been unimpressed with his brothers since all they did was lie there and cry—and he said they were stinky. He’d complained about the noise they made when he was trying to watch his show. His parents were counting the minutes until the grandparents arrived to provide some much-needed relief for Liam and them.
They’d told him Grammy and Pop were coming in the morning and Nana and Papa in the afternoon. He couldn’t wait to get out of baby central.
“How many of the nurses do we get to take home with us?” Adam asked.
