There was something in the way she said it that made her Dad and I both laugh. “Actually, Muffin,” I told her, “It was really quite grotty!”

“It’s always grotty, you!” Oliver gave her a poke. “Grotty babies!”

About that same time Natalie came running into the room, “Gran!” She shouted, “I got you a pee-an-nut butter cup!” She turned the corner too sharply, however, and slammed into a potted plant, which fell over and spilled Spanish moss everywhere. Ana let out a surprised scream and Gryffin, who was toddling in with his Granddad, immediately toppled over.

“Blimey,” Nigel slapped his little hand against his chest, “Everything all at once and you lot will give me a stroke!”

Oliver and I decided to make sure that Lucy was resting comfortably in her recovery room before we went home. We wanted to make sure Alexander was doing all right as well. Alex never said much about how he felt, but he was easily upset when someone he loved was hurt. And when Alexander got upset, it wasn’t always a simple thing for him to calm down. We’d seen him go on for days in misery.

When we entered the room, Ana was leaned over Alexander in his chair. Her chin was on his shoulder and her arms were around his chest. She held him for a long time, rocking him like he was a child, even though he was probably twice her size. He patted her arm gently in return.

“Are you all right, Dear?” She whispered, “Is there anything you need?”

“No, Mum. Thank you.”

“Supper?”

“No, they said they’d bring me something to eat from downstairs.”

She kissed the top of his head and stood.

Edmond stroked a piece of hair away from Lucy’s forehead, “She’s white as a ghost.”

“She lost a lot of blood, so she’s pale. They gave her something after,” Alexander whispered, “Something to bring down her blood pressure. They said she’d rest for a good while.” He glanced at his brother and then at me, “That was bloody terrifying. I don’t think we ought to do that again.”

“Maybe not,” I said honestly, “But it’s over now.”

He nodded.

“Well, we’re taking the children home with us,” Ana announced, “So Silvia can get some sleep. She doesn’t need any more excitement in her condition,” Everyone was worried that I’d go into labour and being ridiculously pregnant, I did not pass up the chance to agree to some quiet time. Ana smiled suddenly, “Two girls, Alexander! I’m so happy!”

“Yes,” Edmond mussed Alex’s hair, “We both are!”

We hugged and kissed the parents and children goodbye and left Alexander alone with his wife, but Oliver and I didn’t leave the hospital for a while. Instead we stood in front of the nursery window and stared in at our new nieces.

“I thought twins skipped generations,” I rested my cheek against the rough wool of Oliver’s sweater.

“They usually do,” He responded quietly, “Which is which?”

“I have no idea.”

“I asked Mum once how she kept Alex and me separate. She said she kept the tag on our wrists as long as she could. Then she put an O and an A on the bottoms of our feet with magic marker. After that, she made sure she dressed us different, but she lost track when we started switching clothes on her. Eventually, she just knew. Nobody’s identical. There’s always something that tells us apart.”

“I thought I was going to lose my sister in there,” I said softly, “I was so scared for her.”

“I knew she was in trouble. I could hear her. I was worried, but you Cotton girls, you’re fiery.” Oliver put his hand on my swollen belly, “Too bad we didn’t have the twins.”

“What would we have called them?”

“Certainly not Antonia and Elizabeth! Awful names, those are! Now Heloise and Gertrude, I’d have named them!”

“Oh, yes, Antonia and Elizabeth are just terrible! But I like Helga and Euphemia much better than your choices.”

“Oh, can’t we have Euphemia and Heloise, Love? If we have twins?”

“Definitely!”

We laughed quietly.

“I can’t see them well enough,” Oliver said. “I’m too tired.”

“Me, too. This is boring. Let’s go home and have sex. Maybe I’ll go into labour.”

“Excellent! I’m all for that! Sex is what got us into this predicament and it’s what’ll get us out!”

“With any luck! My back is killing me!”

“At least I can’t get you pregnant, yeah?”

“No more than you already have.”

Oliver wrapped his arm around my shoulder for support as we began to walk away. “Maybe we ought to find a linen closet and try it here. We won’t have to come back if you do go into labour.”

Oliver could always make me laugh, even when my back was in knots and I was exhausted.

We went home, but any ideas of fooling about were gone as soon as we saw the bed. Once on it, we were both immediately asleep.

It was one in the morning three weeks later when I shook Oliver awake, “Sweetheart! Sweetheart!” He was never easy to wake up even on his best day. I licked my finger and stuck it in his ear, “Oliver, wake up!”

“W-what?” He sat straight up, “Is it Duncan? Did he win?”

“Oh, wake up!” I popped him on the side of his head, “Your mum’s on her way over. I’m contracting. They’re twenty minutes apart, let’s go.”

I was hot and cranky and not at all in the mood to have a baby.

Oliver shook himself to full consciousness. “I was dreaming about the dog,” He said absently, “He was driving a car in the Grand Prix.”

I was hot and cranky and not at all in the mood for him to make me laugh, either, but I couldn’t help it at that one, “Come on let’s get going then! Get up!”

Ana arrived ten minutes later as if it were noon, hair done and dressed to the nines. “You go on now and have your baby!” She said like she was sending us off for a private supper, “I’ll pop by in the morning to check on you!”

I knew it wouldn’t be long by the time we made it to the hospital, “Take me straight to delivery,” I told the nurse as soon as they put me in a bed, “This is my third child and I’m not playing about this!”

“Let me check your…”

“Now, you listen to me, Miss!” I reached out to grab her by the jacket, but I stopped myself, “I’m telling you, you can check whatever you like, but if I miss my epidural because you want to argue, I’ll do you for it!”

“All right,” She slipped on a glove, “Lie back, please. Well,” She yanked off the glove, “You’re right! It’s off to delivery for you!”

“I want my epidural.”

“That should not be a problem.” She unlocked the bed and gave it a shove.

Oliver was grinning as we hurried down the hall. I tried to glare at him, but it was impossible, “A baby, Sil!” He was dancing around like a kid, “Want to bet a quid it’s another boy?”

“You’re on,” I smiled quickly and looked away as another contraction washed over me.

I remember what I was thinking more during that delivery than the other two. I was thinking about my poor sister believing that she killed our mother and practically killing herself out of guilt during the birth of her own babies. I was thinking about Carolena and Natalie and Antonia and Elizabeth and how they’d all be doing this one day. I was thinking about the Lord and the Lady and wondering how many boon they’d had over the years. And I was thinking how odd it was that I somehow knew without question that this was the last baby Oliver and I would ever have and how that was perfectly fine with me. I had this feeling that this little baby was going to make our family complete. I remembered the Lady’s words when she asked the wind to make me sleep, “By the power of three!” Three was a magical number and I knew in my heart that our number of babies was up.

“Oliver, I love you,” I gave a great push.

“I love you, too, Sil.”

“This is it,” I grunted, “Muffin Magic, Sweetheart!”

“You’re the best!” He swore.

I put my chin to my chest and pushed with all I had. A few seconds later, a baby cried.

“You owe me a quid!” Oliver jumped up and down in place, “I can see! It’s a boy!”