“Two girls,” Adair repeated, like he still couldn’t believe it. “Three pounds each, but healthy and strong…and so beautiful.”
“She okay?” Narri asked softly.
Adair nodded, his voice catching again. “She’s perfect. Tired. Emotional but perfect.”
“She’s ready for y’all,” a nurse peeked in, her smile kind. “Only one at a time, for now.”
Adair looked to his mother first. Pam was already halfway to her feet before he even nodded. “Come on, Ma. You first.”
Narri let out a fake sob. “Of course. Take the old people first,” she mumbled jokingly, and Pam threatened to kick her ass.
“Girl,” Aunt Terry waved her off. “Let that woman go meet her grandbabies. You next, damn.”
Adair smiled as Pam hurried to his side, holding tight to his arm like her knees were jelly. Together, they walked the short hallway and pushed through the door.
Sabine was sitting up slightly in the bed, hair pulled back in a soft puff, a pale pink blanket draped over her lap. Her eyes were swollen but bright, glowing with something more than just motherhood—peace.And in each of her arms was a baby, swaddled tight in matching cream blankets with the tiniest hats on their heads.
Pam gasped. Covered her mouth. Then cried like she was trying to hold it in but couldn’t. “Oh God. Oh God, baby, look at them. Look at them.”
“Come meet your granddaughters, Momma.”
Pam came close like she was approaching royalty. “Lord, look at these beautiful angels. I—” she stopped, voice breaking again. “Lord have mercy, they here. Thank you, God.”
Adair sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Sabine too much, and looked down at both girls. One yawned, her little mouth puckering like a kiss. The other squirmed slightly, hand twitching free of her blanket, grazing her mommy’s wrist.
“They already got lil attitudes,” Sabine smiled. “You see that?”
“I see it,” Pam whispered, still crying. “They gon’ run y’all ragged. And I can’t wait to help.”
Adair reached carefully, slipping his hands beneath the baby in Sabine’s right arm, the one who’d yawned, then clenched her tiny fist like she was already tired of everybody’s shit.
“Hold on,” Pam said, already walking toward the sink in the corner. She pulled paper towels down with quick hands and washed thoroughly, scrubbing like she was about to enter surgery.
Sabine and Adair both smiled at one another. Once Pam dried her hands and came back over, arms open and trembling, Adair gently placed the baby into them.
It was like passing off a blessing.
Pam cradled her close, already rocking. “Oh, baby girl,” she whispered, overwhelmed. “You don’t even know how much you were prayed for.”
The baby made a small sound—soft, breathy. Almost like she recognized the voice.
Pam melted. “That’s right,” she cooed. “You know your Granny. You know me.”
Adair glanced back at Sabine, and the look she gave him cracked something open inside his chest. It was the same look she wore in the delivery room. That look that said:We did it.
And they had.
Twice.
Pam was still whispering blessings to the baby in her arms, rocking gently and humming something that sounded like a lullaby, when the door creaked open again.
Not a nurse.
Just Narri.
Poking her head in like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to but very muchwasn’tsorry about.
“I couldn’t wait,” she whispered, eyes wide with awe and already brimming with tears. “I tried. I really did.”