Chapter 17 (Snow's Perspective)

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 "You're what?!" Rain yells from downstairs. I am sitting at the top of the stairs, clutching the banister to remain hidden. I guess she is the first to hear about this, because I don't understand. I look out the window---raining...again. Let winter come soon please. I want it to snow. I want to see the flakes land on the window, and slowly fade away, as if they were never there. I want to be capable of what snowflakes are. I wish I could be one.

I know I shouldn't be listening in on this conversation, but I'm nosy, and if I don't hear it now, it will drive me crazy until I do.

"I'm pregnant." mama whispers, almost inaudibly. "Twins," this time she speaks a little bit louder. Pregnant? Twins? That means I will have two more siblings. Six kids? I know we can afford it, but that doesn't sound like it will be 'fun times', as mama would say.

Rain intakes an enormous gulp of air, and puts her hands through hair nervously. "Twins! You're having twins!" she sounds confused. Yes Rain, she has already said it. She is having twins.

"Girl and a boy," she lowers her voice again. "I'm due in February." I shake my head to no one in particular.

"You kept this from me four months!" Rain pauses, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Four months!"

"I wanted to be sure it would be okay," mama says, quietly.

"You should have at least told me! I'm older, I would've been better off knowing, mama." Rain sits in a dining chair, cupping a hand around her cheek, and resting her elbow on the table.

"You're right. I should have. I'm sorry." she speaks very softly and slowly, making it difficult for me to understand.

"Does dad even know?" she asks, desperate.

"Of course he does, he came with me for my first ultrasound last week." after an extensive silence mama adds, "This is new for me, Rain."

"New? After four kids? This is new?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like, mama?"

"Most of your friends had kids when they were my age. This is my first time becoming a mother when it's normal." she puts her head in her hands. I inch away from the edge of the top step. So when all of us were born it was different. How could she say that? We aren't different just because mama had us when she was younger. I cringe a little, fighting back tears that threaten to spill.

"Where are we going to live? There isn't enough space in this house." I tell her. She looks at me painfully.

"That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."   

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