Never Truly Living

Chapter 19

Vesper threw a little birthday party for Vera and Oliver that weekend, allowing then to demolish a couple of cupcakes and open a few gifts each. Sam was the only guest, but more than made up for the absence of any other in her infectious enthusiasm.

It was amazing how quickly time began to pass as she adjusted to this new life as working mother. Sam was rising to the occasion, and had become an absolute godsend to her. The young woman and the children got along famously during the day, and Sam was imaginative and playful, and had endless patience and enthusiasm.

She still took the weekends off, allowing Vesper some time with her son and daughter alone, but the young woman was starting to become like part of the family.

Soon it was summer again, and now that Vera and Oliver were more mobile and able to stay awake longer, Vesper was more inclined to take them out for the day. She and Sam took them down to the beach a few times and let them play in the sand and surf.

She took them to the library often, as they were beginning to love books. They loved being read to, their vocabularies growing by the day, and she often spent her evenings and weekends sitting on the sofa reading to them, their little eyes starring at the pages.

As fall crept in and their eighteenth month of life arrived, they became more dextrous, and could now scribble with a crayon, and hold and throw things quite well. Sam and Vesper had to keep very close eyes on them when they were playing now, out of fear that they would hurt each other. They now both had an almost full set of baby teeth, which had come in with quite a bit of complaining from Oliver, and they both liked to talk a lot. Little mumbles that weren't really words to Sam and Vesper, but seemed to hold some meaning and understanding to the children.

Their second Christmas was much more eventful than the first, as they were much more aware of everything that was going on. They still found wrapping paper and boxes much more interesting than the actual gifts he received, but she and Sam still had fun helping them unwrap the books and toys, and seeing the look on their faces when shiny new present emerged.

Vesper found that as her son and daughter grew, time seemed to speed up. As they became more aware of their world and more active, more in need of attention as they plunged into toddlerhood, there was just so little time to sit and reflect that her life seemed almost to move along at warp speed.

Her job kept her busy enough, with very little time to relax and very high demands on her. She spent the majority of the day on the phone or in meetings, directing and managing funds, or advising lenders and investors.

And evenings and weekends were filled with reading stories, feeding two very picky eaters, and bathing and changing and putting to bed. She took them to swimming lessons, to the park, to the museum and the library, every day another adventure for her.

Her children were soon two years old and was becoming more eloquent by the day, able to point out things and name them, able to hold at least somewhat intelligible conversations, and were becoming more agile as well, running and jumping and filling her with anxiety as they tried to climb anything and everything.

Sam kept up with them fine, the girl still young and sprightly, able to chase the boy and girl around the park for hours while Vesper watched from the sidelines, exhausted by their endless vigour.

Vera and Oliver's third summer was spent in the park and at the beach. They loved playing at the playground daily, and had integrated into toddler society quite well.
Oliver was growing into a handsome boy, with long wispy blond hair that she had to get cut quite often. Vera had inherited her thick and slightly curly, dark hair. It was now long enough for Vesper to braid and style. Both twins had eyes that seemed to have gotten bigger and more expressive, and were now the colour of the afternoon sky. Oliver's ears stuck out just a little, which she found incredibly endearing, but he didn't much like them, and she suspected that some of his little friends may have made fun of them. But, they were joys, and exhausting, but both becoming more like little people and less of a baby each day. She lamented at how quickly they were growing, cried sometimes when she looked at pictures of how small they'd been. But she never despaired for long, because there was a book to be read, or a picture to colour, or food to prepare.