“Misha’s very busy,” I said, but I choked on my words. Thankfully, my mom was nearby.
“We’re off to see the wizard!” she sang, coaxing the triplets away from me.
“THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ!” they belted back at her, chasing her into the living room so they could watch what had quickly become their favorite movie.
All because of Mikhail.
“Did something happen?” my mom asked once the kids were settled in front of Dorothy and Scarecrow and the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. “Are you okay?”
I told her everything. Everything. About always loving Mikhail. About him being the father of her grandchildren. About telling him the truth. About what he’d said the last time I’d seen him. I poured out my heart and soul. My mom, God bless her, took it all in stride, listening until I was done, and offering me the clean tissue she had in her pocket, probably to mop up accidents with my kids throughout the day.
After I’d dried my tears, she gave me a big hug.
“I think I always knew it was him,” my mom said, stroking my hair. “I’m just sorry it couldn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry too,” I murmured. “He was good with the kids. Especially Coop.”
“I was going to see if you had noticed Coop coming out of his shell,” my mom said. “It’s remarkable, really. I knew he was a late bloomer, but I didn’t expect him to bloom so suddenly — or so vibrantly.”
“It was Misha,” I said, tearing up again. “It’s like they gravitated toward each other. Like they knew.”
“Oh, Sadie…”
I tried to get a hold of myself, but it was a losing battle. I opted to sit in the darkened living room with everyone to try to distract myself with the movie. The kids dropped off to sleep one by one — it was a long movie, after all, and I wasn’t sure if any of them had actually seen it from start to finish.
We tucked them into bed and then my mom and I just sat on the couch in comfortable — and comforting — silence. She didn’t ask me any questions. She just sat with me in case I needed anything.
“What’s going on?” My brother stepped into the room, a couple of shopping bags hanging from his arm. “I brought a few — wait. Why are you crying?”
There wasn’t any use in hiding it anymore. My secret was out. “It’s Misha.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Jonathan demanded. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“It’s not like that,” I said. “I’m trying to tell you that he’s the one. I was — am — in love with him. He’s the father of the triplets.”
“Unbelievable,” my brother said with a faint whistle. “Are you serious?”
“This isn’t something your sister would joke about,” my mom said.
“And does Misha even know?” Jonathan asked, dumbfounded.
“He does now,” I said with a sigh. “I just told him. He didn’t take it well.”
“The hell he didn’t.” My brother abruptly dropped the bags he was carrying and stalked back out the way he’d come in.
“Jon, what are you doing?” my mom called after him, but I already knew.
My twin was going to go confront Mikhail. Part of me wished I could witness it.
The rest of me just wanted to figure out how this was ever going to work out.