“Mommy’s home,” I announced needlessly as I got out of the car, but the triplets abandoned their ball and squealed all the same. They wound themselves around my legs like cats, trying to trip me up as I attempted to deliver a to-go box dinner to my mom, who was sitting on the front porch supervising the madness.
“What’s in the box?” Tristan asked, jumping up with an arm outstretched to see if he could bat it from my grasp.
“That’s for Grandma,” I said as sternly as I could muster. “I know for a fact that you three have already eaten.”
“No,” Tristan wheedled. “I’m starving.”
“That’s lying,” Fern said, her little voice reedy and thin with accusation. “We ate hotdogs.”
“Mm, hotdogs,” I repeated encouragingly, straining to walk as Cooper clamped on to one of my legs and simply sat down. “Can I have my leg back, Coop?”
He stared up at me and solemnly shook his head.
“Okay,” I sighed, continuing my slow progress to the porch. “Mom, I swear this was warm when I left Tides.”
“Oh, I believe you,” she said with a chuckle. “Excuse me if I don’t get up. They have been highly energetic today.”
I finally reached her, straining to pass the box over to her and keep it out of Tristan’s wingspan. “Sorry about that. Must be a full moon or something.”
“Or something,” my mom agreed. “And don’t apologize for toddlers. It’s useless. How was work?”
“You know how work was,” I said, shaking my head at her. “You do it every Saturday and Sunday.”
“I could come in on the evenings — or do mornings, at least,” she said, popping open the box and inhaling deeply. “This smells heavenly, Sadie. I’m afraid your talents are probably wasted on teenage palates.”
“I don’t get very many complaints,” I protested. “And those complaints would be at zero if I just gave in and served pizza with every meal — breakfast included.”
“There’s something big coming your way,” my mom said. She’d said the same thing before, time and time again. “You just wait and see.” She said that a lot too. But I couldn’t spend my life waiting. I had to make something of it right now, for my kids. And for myself too.
“I like where I’m at,” I assured her, watching her dig in to the roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and steamed veggies with the disposable utensils I’d brought. I didn’t want her to do any more dishes than she already had today. “And I wanted to talk to you about retiring — officially, this time. And permanently.”
She shook her head, her mouth full. “The extra money helps. You know that.”
Guilt flooded my veins, and I looked away under the guise of watching the children play. Fern was trying her very best to boss her two brothers around in a game that involved large fallen branches. I was probably going to have to step in soon before somebody lost an eye.
“I’ve got a handle on things,” I said. “You deserve to have a little fun.”
“If you would just let me, I’d get another job somewhere,” my mom said. “Full-time. Then we could afford to get the triplets in daycare. The nice one, so they can get a good educational foundation.”
“They’ll get a good education when they enroll in kindergarten,” I said, my heart squeezing at the thought of them wearing backpacks the size of their little bodies and boarding a bus to take them to the public school thirty minutes away. “If you’re tired of watching your grandchildren, just come right out and say it.”
“You know that’s not it,” my mom protested. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for everyone. You can’t keep working the hours that you’re working. And I’m not an old cow who needs to be put out to pasture.”
“I prefer to think of you as a dignified and stately mare, living out the rest of her days in rolling fields.” I sat down on the porch steps at my mom’s feet and leaned against her legs. “Finish your dinner, or I’ll send you to a glue factory instead of that field.”
“Listen. I didn’t want to startle you right as you were getting home.” My mom paused a moment to dab her lips with the thin little napkin that came in the bag of utensils. “But we’ve had a pretty big surprise today.”
I sucked air through my teeth and quickly looked up to survey my triplets. None of them looked worse for wear at first glance, but maybe there was some scrape or sprain beneath their fleece pants and puffy coats. Or perhaps the branch game was a holdover from earlier in the day, and someone had already lost an eye that I hadn’t noticed.
“The kids are fine,” my mom said quickly. “Sorry. But see? You panic.”
“The triplets inspire a lot of panic,” I reasoned, trying to will my heart rate back down to normal. “What’s the surprise? It doesn’t sound like a fun one from the way you’ve set it up.”
“It’s an … interesting surprise,” she said, hesitating as she chose her words. “Exciting, even.”
“I can see Jon’s car parked right there,” I said. “There’s nothing exciting about his visits. He comes and pretends he’s better than everyone and doesn’t leave until he picks a fight. I thought he’d be gone before I got back. That’s what he usually does.”
“I wish the two of you could get along,” my mom sighed. “But no. He’s not the surprise. Not necessarily.”