One Bride for Five Brothers

by Jess Bentley

  “Whatever you need,” he says reassuringly, his eyes glittering with amusement and tenderness at the same time. “We are here for you. But just so you know, Vanessa, we are not poor. Far from it.”

  “It's really sweet that you thought so, though,” Tom pipes in. “It actually makes it all kind of better, right?”

  “Oh, totally,” Tim agrees. “You thought we were broke, and wanted us anyway? That's amazing!”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, totally confused. They're all looking at me, but I don't see the answer in their eyes. “Why is this all so funny?”

  “I guess it’s just funny because nobody ever told you,” Stan finally says, wiping the corner of his eye. “We're… pretty well off. You could say that.”

  “Really well off,” Tim insists.

  “Multi-millionaires!” Tom hoots.

  The other mother looks over in alarm again. Tim punches Tom hard in the arm, making Tom gasp and rub his arm fretfully.

  “Shut up, man!” Tim hisses between his teeth. “You don't just go spreading that around!”

  “Wait, are you serious? You guys are like… rich or something?”

  “Well, sure,” Charlie shrugs. “Why do you think we’re going international? How did you think that we could afford all that?”

  My mind races. I think back over the last couple months and realize all the signs have been there: the land, the organic distribution deals, the way people at the farm stand whispered and nodded proudly, like they were in the presence of local celebrities.

  Yet, the broken chainsaw? Replacing the barn roof by themselves? All that?

  “We don’t need to live fancy to be wealthy,” Stan says, as though reading my mind. “We have everything we need. Especially now, Vanessa. We have everything we need, you see?”

  A wave of emotion surges through me as I look at all of their full, expectant faces. I realize what they are telling me is true. They have been feathering their nest all this time, waiting for me to come along, just like they told me. Waiting for their princess.

  “So you don’t have to worry about paying,” Charlie tells me, and I hear the pride in his voice. “We'll take care of everything for you. Every little thing.”

  “Vanessa?” comes the receptionist’s voice as the door swings open. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

  I stand up, and all the guys stand up with me. The receptionist’s eyes go wide.

  “Wait… hold on…” she protests.

  “Just give us the biggest room you’ve got,” I suggest helpfully. “I don’t think they will wait out here while I'm in there.”

  Sputtering uncomfortably, the receptionist shuffles ahead of us, a manila folder in her hand. She opens a door and steps back, looking almost frightened as I walk into the tiny room with five giant men escorting me.

  “The doctor will be with you in a moment! Just put on the garment, open in the front!”

  “Thank you,” Hank smiles at her as she practically runs away.

  “I don’t think she liked us,” Tom shrugs.

  “Really? You don’t think so?” Tim asks sarcastically.

  “Okay, guys, let's get our princess up on this table over here,” Stan interjects authoritatively.

  Immediately, I feel myself being gently pushed back and forth. The guys all help out, undressing me in that practiced way, then slipping the patient gown over my shoulders. Stan takes an extra second to gaze at me in wonder, the way he always does when I'm naked. He likes to just look at me.

  I almost see myself in his eyes, too. I know I look a little bit different in subtle ways. Thicker around my waist, certainly. And my boobs are swollen and tender, but impressive. I can't wait to see what's coming next as my body is overtaken by the little life growing inside of me.

  The guys lean against the walls in the tiny room as I sit on the paper that covers the exam table, trying not to wiggle too much and make those crinkling noises. There's a brief knock on the door before it opens and Dr. Francis walks in.

  To her credit, she doesn't look terrified. She merely says hello to each and every one of them, nodding in a friendly but curt way.

  “You must be Vanessa,” she smiles, offering me her hand to shake. “I'm Dr. Francis. Let's see what we've got here!”

  She weighs me and measures my height, then has me hop back up on the table. When she pushes the gown up over my belly, I noticed that Tim and Tom avert their eyes and want to giggle. Now they're shy? That seems hilarious to me. They've done the most profane things to my body, but now they can’t even look at my belly? Hilarious.

  “It all looks good,” Dr. Francis nods, she drags a rolling cart closer. “The jelly might be cold, sorry. Just gonna do a little ultrasound, here.”

  I bite my lip, unbearably excited. The jelly is indeed freezing and I shudder and curl my toes.

  The monitor flickers to life, all gray and snowy. Strange shapes float across the screen like ghosts, amorphous blobs. Dr. Francis squints at the screen while her right hand pushes the plastic device against my skin, shoving it this way and that, pointing it in different directions.

  Suddenly there is a blob on the screen that almost looks like something I've seen before. Kind of a Casper the Friendly Ghost shape. It jiggles and wobbles, twitching this way and that.

  “Oh my God,” I hear Stan sigh behind me, his voice thick with emotion.

  “Just hang on a second here,” Dr. Francis mumbles. She taps on the keyboard, playing out little crosshairs and lines that look like measurements.

  “Is something wrong?” Charlie blurts out, alarmed.

  “No, nothing is wrong. I'm just trying to get a due date for you,” she informs us. “I have to measure the fetus to see how far along you are.”

  “Oh, okay,” Tom sighs. “That makes sense.”

  Dr. Francis nods, then glances over her shoulder, checking out each one of the guys. I almost see her thought process process on her face, and she realizes that each of them seem to be equally invested in this pregnancy. Her lips pop open in surprise, and then she closes them stubbornly as her professional look of non-judgment takes over again.

  I see her shrug just a little bit when she turns around again. She resumes the measurements while smooshing me with the transponder from the outside.

  “So I'm going to say… you’re about nine weeks long. Does that sound about right?”

  I mentally calculate.

  “Yes, that sounds about right,” I smile. That means I got pregnant more or less immediately. Lucky me.

  “So that would give you a due date about thirty weeks out from now, give or take,” she continues.

  “Thirty weeks,” I repeat, marveling.

  “That's right. You look healthy and everything, so I'll give you some literature, and of course you want to start taking prenatal vitamins right away. But everything looks good here so far. Looks like you got a very healthy —”

  She falls silent. Her fingers tap on the keyboard.

  The room fills with a whooshing noise, a complicated percussion that starts in a slow beat, and becomes a very quick one, almost twice as fast.

  As I listen, it seems to echo itself, doubling and duplicating, perhaps doubling in rate, but no… it's just an echo.

  “Hold on,” she says quietly.

  “Is that the heart beat?” Hank asks urgently. “Is everything okay?”

  She taps and taps, while I feel my own heartbeat accelerating. I fight the urge to leap off the table and shake her by the shoulders.

  “Dr. Francis?” I finally manage to say.

  “You hear that?” she says.

  We all listen closely. The rushing sound fills the room, a beautiful, fast beat.

  Then she's pushes the transponder the other way and we hear it get even faster.

  “Is the heartbeat speeding up? What is that?” I ask, feeling myself go frantic.

  She turns around, smiling.

  “Well, I guess I don't have to ask you if twins run in your family,” she remarks, nodding me
aningfully at Tim and Tom.

  “Wait, hold on,” I stammer. “Are you saying… twins?”

  She shrugs. “Looks that way! Two heartbeats, two heads. Unless there's a surprise third one hanging out in there, which has happened before, but…”

  “Triplets?” I choke.

  She holds out both hands. “No, I think it's just twins,” she smirks. “Sounds like you got enough on your hands, anyway, right?”

  “She sure does,” Stan says proudly. “Twins! That's amazing!”

  Dr. Francis smiles, shaking her head in a little bit of disbelief. I could see she sort of figured out our arrangement, but she's too professional to say anything about it. She hands me a tissue to wipe the ultrasound jelly off my stomach and helps me sit up.

  “So, we won't be able to tell the gender until maybe a month from now, but you look great. I'd say nothing here to give you any kind of alarm. Just live your normal life, do anything you want to do, okay? I mean, no drinking or smoking of course…”

  “Of course!” Charlie interjects.

  I roll my eyes at him. “I think I got this handled,” I tell them curtly.

  Dr. Francis pats me on my shoulder. “Yes, generally mothers know best. But you can resume your normal activities, within reason, okay? And I will see you in about a month?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I smile, giddy and excited. I hadn’t even realized how worked up I was until just now. Twins! It's so much think about!

  “So, any questions? Is there anything you want to —”

  “Could she have sex?” Tom blurts out.

  Dr. Francis’s mouth pops open again. She goes a little bit white, then swallows.

  “Um, yes. She can. Have sex. Yes,” Dr. Francis nods, looking slightly alarmed. “Yep. Pregnant women can have sex. Yes they can.”

  She stands, collecting my clipboard and putting it under her arms, then hurries out of the room.

  “Okay! Thank you!” I call after her. I shoot Tom an exasperated look. “Seriously? Did you have to startle her like that?”

  “What!” he objects. “I need to know, okay? It's an important question!”

  I just roll my eyes. I want to be mad at him but, but how can I?

  Looks like my fairytale has taken a bit of a twist. A twist with twins.

  The way they're all looking at me, they feel it too. This is such a beautiful life. Such a beautiful journey we’re on. All together.

  All for one, and one for all.

  Chapter 23

  Stan

  Twins.

  Twins!

  All the way home, I keep trying to get my head around it. It's really happening now. Everything that we've ever wanted is finally, finally happening. And it's happening with the most beautiful woman I could've imagined.

  I watch her hair blowing in the wind from her window as I hang onto the back of the truck. Charlie usually drives like a maniac and I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to dump us out into a ditch on the way home, but today he seems much more careful. Probably doesn't want to startle our princess too much.

  From now on, we have to be a million times more careful. We have to make sure nothing goes wrong.

  Everything seem so much more precious now. My mind races backward and forward, going over every decision we have made so far, and every decision coming up. Has she been drinking the wine? Has she been drinking enough orange juice? Should we be giving her more protein? Have we been working her too hard?

  I think that the decision to move her into the big house from the cabin is a good one. I just thought it would be an easier transition to Germany, but now it really makes me feel more secure. Definitely don't want her to too far away now. Need to keep an eye on her. What if she needs help? What if she can't walk upstairs anymore? What if she becomes fragile somehow? Crying all the time, or throwing up all the time?

  I have heard women do that. They do.

  When we get home, she looks more or less the same. I keep inspecting her for signs of fragility, but she just bounces out of the truck and up the front steps, smiling as she heads in the front door.

  Should she just be walking around like that? Should we be helping her?

  “Just wait here,” Tom calls out as she heads toward the kitchen. “I want to show you your room! We'll just need a minute.”

  “Oh, right!” She exclaims, clapping her hands underneath her chin. “My new room! I almost forgot. Man, can this day get any better?”

  “You want some water something? Want to sit over there… put your feet up?”

  She glances at the sofa, shaking her head. “Sit over there? No… I'm fine. I feel like going for a walk. You want to go for a walk with me? There is still lot of the forest that I never got to see…”

  “No, you should definitely sit down,” Hank insists. “I'll make you some tea or something. Do you drink tea? Do we have any tea in the house?”

  She puts her fists on her hips. “No, you do not have any tea in this house. What is going on?”

  “Nothing is going on,” Hank shrugs. “I think we do have some tea, though. Does tea ever go bad? It might be old. Let me check. It's probably here in one of these cupboards…”

  He starts opening cupboards next to the stove, pushing things around, reaching up to the top shelf and grumbling to himself. Vanessa looks at me and raises her eyebrows.

  “Seriously? What is going on?”

  “Can you just sit down?”

  “No, I can't sit down!” she huffs. “Are you planning on doing this the entire time?”

  I shrug innocently. “I'm not doing anything. I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Oh, really,” she says sarcastically. She puts her hands on her hips and jumps in place.

  “Stop that,” I sigh.

  She keeps jumping, her boobs jiggling in her top, her hair flying out like wings behind her.

  “Is this is bothering you? Jumping? Do you think the babies are gonna fall out?”

  “What the hell are you doing? Stop that!” Charlie yells out, running over to her. He grabs her by the shoulders.

  She skips away, laughing. She runs behind the sofa, dares him to chase her.

  “You guys are hilarious,” she smiles, but the look on her face is affection and admiration. “I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm not going to break. In fact, I feel like superwoman! I feel amazing!”

  “You're freaking me out,” I confess, shrugging. “What if something goes wrong, Vanessa?”

  “Aw, sweetie,” she coos, rushing over to me and wrapping her arms around my middle. I gather her up, holding her close and smelling her hair. Just the scent of her makes me feel a million times better.

  “Nothing's gonna go wrong,” she mumbles into my shirt, her voice muffled against my chest. “You gotta believe it. Everything is perfect, Stan. Everything is absolutely magical.”

  “Speaking of magical,” Tom says, leaning over the railing of the stairs, “would you like to see your new room?”

  “What? Already?” she gasps. “Right now?”

  I hold out my elbow for her to take. “Right this way, madame.”

  She rolls her eyes but concedes to take my elbow. I guide her up the stairs toward the bedrooms, hoping that my brothers have managed to make everything look okay. We are going to put her in my old room, which is the biggest. It used to be my parents’ room and has a private bath. That was the main reason that we thought it would be the most appropriate for her. Our princess needs her privacy.

  But I'm not even prepared for what I see when they open the door for her.

  First I see it through her eyes, that look of surprise and delight. I follow right behind her, eager to see what she's so happy about.

  The transformation is miraculous. All my old stuff is gone: the posters, the squat dresser from my childhood. I never even felt the need to get anything more than a twin bed. That ratty striped rug is gone too.

  Somehow, in the past couple of days they have found time to paint it a beautiful peach color. Pale curtai
ns line the windows. Instead of my twin bed, there's an enormous four-poster with a really tall mattress. So tall, there is a small step stool on the side.

  Instead of my little dresser, there’s a long, cream-colored dresser with a mirror at the back. The top has two ornate trays. Charlie holds his hands out.

  “You can put your makeup or whatever over here,” he suggests helpfully.

  “You guys… this amazing!” she whispers.

  “Wait… are you crying?” Tom says, starting to panic. “Do you hate it? I mean, we could start again! You can have my room!”

  She waves her hand in the air, pausing. The tip of her nose is pink and she presses her lips together for a few seconds. “I think it is just hormones!” she explains. “It’s a good thing, you guys. I'm just so happy!”

  “Oh, thank heaven!” Tim sighs. He comes close to her, dipping down to reach underneath her knees and sweeping her off her feet. She laughs and drapes her hands around his neck as he swoops over toward the bed and drops her in the middle of it.

  “Guys, guys!” I shout out a warning. “Don't just be throwing her around like that!”

  She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Then she gets up on her knees and starts to undress.

  “You know what, I don't think I like being treated like a porcelain doll,” she announces.

  “We’re just trying to protect you,” Hank grumbles.

  She pulls her blouse over her head and quickly unhooks her bra, spilling those big, beautiful tits out.

  “I don't want to be protected,” she informs us archly. “I've got needs, you understand? Serious, serious needs. So you want to know what you can do for me?”

  Tom and Charlie circle closer to the bed, licking their lips in anticipation.

  “Okay, what do you need?” Hank says, his voice thick. I watch him step out of his pants as he approaches, clearly already game for whatever she's going to require of him.

  “All of you,” she says, pushing that little skirt down over her hips. I see just the top edge of the dark patch of her pubic hair. Just that sweet welcome mat.

  “No, that's not a good idea. Is it? I don't think we should —”