⇾𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Chapter Sixty-One: Responding to Me

April 15, 1967

"John? Come help me."

John closed the front door behind himself and looked to see me struggling with one of our bags. It was 9 AM and we were unloading the car so we could go and get the house clean enough to be presentable before everyone else got here.

"Here, I'll get it," he said, rushing over to me. "You can get the box with the baby stuff in it," he said with a grin, giving me a quick peck on the lips.

"Well, alright," I replied, feeling utterly useless now that I was incapable of carrying so much as a bag of clothes. I did as I was told. I went over to the passenger side of the car and opened the back door. As I was reaching down to get the box, I felt one of the babies kick, much more intensely than I'd grown used to in recent weeks.

"Jesus," I hissed, leaning my head against the roof of the car and running my hand along my stomach. As if responding to my hand, I felt another kick. Surprised, I lowered myself down onto the seat of the car and did it again, hoping for the same result.

"What are you doing, love?"

I looked up and saw John staring down at me with a perplexed look on his face.

"Oh, I—." I looked back down, then stood up. "Nothing. Baby just kicked."

"Did it hurt?" he asked confusedly.

"Just a little. I'm fine now."

He grinned and crossed his arms as he eyed me up and down. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked suspiciously.

My lips broke into a wide, excited smile. "When I touched my belly, they kicked! It was like they were just responding to me."

His face lit up in joy. "Really?" he asked. I nodded, looking back down and running my hands along my stomach again. "You think they'd do it again?" I looked up and saw John's eyes trained happily on my belly, his hands fidgeting as if he wanted to reach down and touch it but also didn't want to do anything that would make me uncomfortable.

"I don't know," I responded. "Come here and find out."

He smiled and knelt down in front of me and put his hands to my stomach. After a few fleeting moments of silence, I felt I little jab. Before I had time to react, John was already freaking out.

"Donna! I felt it!" he cried. "Oh, my God, that's fantastic!"

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. He kept his hands resting on each side of my stomach, but he looked so overjoyed that he had a few stray tears gathering in his eyes. "It's...it...th-those are our kids," he said, realization dawning in his eyes. It was rare that John stumbled over words. So rare, in fact, that it was almost strange hearing him struggle quite so much.

He looked up to me with a proud glimmer in his glossy eyes. I reached down to dry his tears. He smiled feebly, then leaned up to kiss me.

"We should probably get the rest of this stuff now," I said quietly when he pulled away.

"Oh, alright," he said. With that, he stood up and dusted his pants off. Then, he reached his hand down to help me to my feet. "Now, get your box." Then he pointed to my stomach jokingly. "Let your mother bring this inside before you go off kicking her again."

I giggled before turning around to pick up the box. It was hard to hold it against myself with my belly, but I managed whatever way I could find. I ended up with it balanced on top of the bump, walking sideways so I had a way to see. It certainly wasn't the most ideal, but there really wasn't much I could do, so I had to make do with what I could get away with.

I sat the box down on the floor at the bottom of the staircase when I made it inside.

"That doesn't belong there," John said teasingly as he appeared from upstairs.

"I can't even bring myself up the stairs, let alone this stupid box," I grumbled, crossing my arms in frustration.

"Well, that's alright," he assured me before he bent down to pick it up. "I'll just bring it up there."

"Well, I'm going to start cleaning. When you come down here, can you call Brian? I wouldn't mind him stopping by." I smiled hopefully.

John nodded. "Well, of course I can. Hey, Donna?" he asked suddenly, eyeing me inquisitively.

"Yes, John?" I replied.

"Are we gonna tell them the names?" he asked.

I thought about it for a moment. "I dunno. Maybe if it comes up. We'll tell Brian, of course. For now, though, we'll wing it."

John pondered on my answer for a few minutes, then nodded. "Good idea. You're a smart bird."

With that, he disappeared upstairs.