⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮-𝙏𝙬𝙤 ➪ 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙙...

ꕥ September 20, 1969 ꕥ
23 weeks

The news that we were having twins took quite a while to sink in. We spent the next week modifying our plans and making a lot more purchases than we ever dreamed we would need a few weeks ago.

Everyone else had been just as shocked as us when we revealed that we were having twins. Arabella hadn't believed us. It took her a good twenty minutes to decide that we weren't lying. Mine and Paul's parents were both very happy for us, and Paul's step-sister, Ruth, was overjoyed.

The band had pretty much finished their album by now and Paul had only been called into a meeting about signing a new contract today.

Mary and I were in the kitchen, making some chocolate chip cookies while we waited for him to get back—our favorite. Mary had rolled a few cookies and put them on the cookie sheet, but no she was only stealing little pinches of the dough and putting them into her mouth when I wasn't looking. It was getting a lot later than Paul had told me he would be back, and I was starting to get quite suspicious, but I didn't show it. Mary had a funny way of figuring out when something was wrong, and I'm pretty sure I was just thinking too hard into it. Maybe one of the boys had invited him out for drinks or something. You never knew with them. One day it seemed they didn't want anything to do with each other, and the next they're downing bevvies together like there was no tomorrow. They were just like bloody siblings.

"Mary, stop eating the dough," I said to her for the umpteenth time, causing her to giggle.

"I'm not," she said, but the bit of cookie dough in the corner of her mouth said otherwise.

I raised my eyebrows, placing my hands on my hips. "Are you lying to me?" I asked her.

Her little cheek turned red. "No," she said carefully.

I reached for a hand towel and wiped her mouth, giving her as stern a look as I could manage. "Stop eating the dough," I repeated.

"Alright," she said with a frown, crossing her arms in protest.

I took the cookie sheet that was full of little balls of dough and carefully put it into the oven. Then, I turned to Mary. "What do you think we should do while we wait?" I asked her, picking her up off of the countertop and setting her down on the floor. She began to go towards the stairs, pulling me by the hand with her. She led me up to her bedroom and sat me down on her bed. I watched as she went over to her play tea set and got two cups with the teapot. Then, she returned to me and handed me one of the cups.

"Now," she said as she pretended to pour some tea into my cup before filling her own. Then, she hopped up next to me. "We wait!" I smiled gleefully.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

"Mmm, it smells so good," I said to Mary as we made our way back downstairs to take the cookies out of the oven. Paul still wasn't home and I was beginning to get quite irritated. He was never late. Especially this late. He could have at least called and said he was gonna be out late.

Mary got a whiff of the cookies as I took them out of the oven and set them on the counter, and her face lit up in delight.

"Yum!" she exclaimed, looking pleased with the work we had done.

I heard the front door open and she immediately turned to go see Paul. I looked at my watch. A whole bloody hour-and-a-half late.

"Daddy! We made cookies!" Mary told him, but he didn't respond. I went into the hallway and glared at him, making sure he knew that I was cross with him. He looked at me and I noticed a strangely strained look in his eyes and he stumbled forward, completely brushing Mary aside, causing the little girl's face to fall in sorrow. My blood began to boil.