Hearts Intertwined

by K. L. Myers

  Braxton set his coffee cup on the table before reaching out his hand to grasp hers. “Yeah, and Alissa was one of those 23.8 women. My parents were a statistic as well. My luck isn’t the best, butterfly, and I’m not willing to risk it.”

  Paisley was defeated. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to convince Braxton that the doom-and-gloom feelings he had were irrational. After all, aside from her appendix rupturing, she was healthy and had never had anything worse than a cold growing up. She was lucky and only had to visit a doctor twice a year. Once for her yearly checkup and once for her flu shot.

  She was ready to give up when a thought came to mind. “Do you believe in God?” It was a simple question, yet it took Braxton several minutes before he responded to her.

  “There was a time when I didn’t. But yeah, now I do. I’m able to forgive him for allowing terrible things to happen in my life. I think he determines a path for us. We wouldn’t be where we are today business-wise if my parents hadn’t died.” He thought for a moment before speaking again. “I wouldn’t have you if Alissa was still alive. So, yeah, I think things happen for a reason and we just have to believe that road He leads us on is the path we are supposed to be on.”

  Paisley loved that he could find some positives out of the darkest times of his life. “So, would you say that if we were meant to be parents to a child of our own, that God would let that happen? And if we weren’t, then he’d keep us from having children?”

  “That’s an awfully big stretch, Paisley.”

  “I’m just asking that we let nature take its course. I’ve been on birth control for so long that I don’t even know if I’ll be able to conceive quickly. Let’s just let things play out. I’ll stop taking the pill, and if it’s meant to be, I’ll get pregnant. And if it isn’t, then we aren’t supposed to have children. I need this from you, Brax. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do, and all I want is for you to give it a try.”

  Braxton sat quietly for a moment. Would it be so bad to throw caution to the wind and try?

  “So, let me ask you this, butterfly—if I said that I’m never going to want more children, would you leave me?”

  It was a simple question, one that Paisley hadn’t thought of at all when she’d decided she wanted another child. Would she leave him? She hadn’t thought that he would construe her request as an ultimatum.

  “Brax, this isn’t a demand. That’s not how love works. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I always fantasized about us getting married and having a family. I just never thought it would happen. And now that it has, it’s the next step in our lives, don’t you think?”

  She could see the wheels turning in his head. “I’m not going to leave you over this. But I can’t honestly say that there wouldn’t be a part of me that would resent you for not giving us the opportunity. And who knows if over time that grudge might or might not turn to hatred. See? That's the thing, Braxton. We don’t know what the future holds for us. We should just live each day like it is our last. Love each other to the fullest and raise a family who hopefully, we’ll grow old with. You could get hit by a car tomorrow; I could die in childbirth. Either is a long shot, and there's no guarantee that one won’t happen.”

  Braxton stood before walking over to the sink. He rinsed his empty cup and put it in the drying rack. When he returned to the table, he didn’t take his vacated seat. Instead, he squatted before her. He took both of her hands in his and looked straight into her eyes. “Okay, let's give this a try. But if you aren’t pregnant within the next three months, then we’ll know it’s not meant to happen and you’ll go back on the pill or I’ll get a vasectomy.”

  The last thing Paisley wanted was for Braxton to have a vasectomy. That was too permanent for her so she agreed to go back on the pill. Honestly, she hoped to be pregnant in the three months, but if not, it was no big deal to start taking them again and come off in the future if she could convince him later.

  “Deal.” She squealed. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’ve made me so happy.”

  Chapter 32

  Paisley sat in the bathroom, holding a white plastic stick in her hand. There had been twenty before it, all ending in the same result. Negative.

  Not from lack of trying, not at all. She and Braxton had gone at it like rabbits since their frank discussion.

  She had been so certain several times that she had been pregnant, and seeing the single pink line had felt as though her life was coming to an end. She’d prayed night after night for God to give her a child. When it hadn’t immediately happened, she’d begun to feel inadequate. And no matter how many times Braxton attempted to make her feel better, depression was starting to get the best of her.

  “It’s alright, butterfly. It will happen when the time is right.” He stroked her hair as she laid her head in his lap while they watched television in front of a crackling fire.

  It was almost Christmas, and all Paisley wanted to give Brax was the gift of a child. She had been falling apart for months. Every negative test sent her into crying fits and he had been there each time.

  “What does it say?” Brax would ask as the timer would beep.

  Bubbles of hope would rise inside her until she turned the stick over, revealing one pink line. And, like that, they popped, one by one, taking her dreams of being a mom with them.

  Brax had been her rock, holding her up through it all. He’d spooned with her when she was too sad to get out of bed and wiped away the endless tears. He was her everything.

  And she was losing faith.

  The holidays had come and gone. Christmas morning, they’d both agreed to let the day be filled with the joy of Emmersyn’s visit from Santa. They’d taken pictures of their little girl with a stocking laying at her feet by the Christmas tree. One where Paisley wore a Santa hat as she fed Emmy who was smiling as if everything was right in the world. And then, at the end of the night, a selfie of her and Braxton on the sofa, the only light in the room coming from all the twinkle lights on the tree in the background and the fireplace beside them. They both looked happy; you’d have never known that inside, Paisley was hurting.

  As they rang in the new year, Paisley had just about given up hope. But then a miracle happened, and just before Valentine’s Day, two little pink lines showed up on her First Response test. Braxton had traveled to Arizona for several days to meet with a client who was on-set filming in the high desert. When he’d returned home that evening, she’d greeted him at the door. Her smile was bigger than he’d ever seen it and joy had radiated from her whole body.

  The minute he opened the front door he knew that something had changed. Music rang out from the speakers that were built into the ceiling. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air and Paisley stood before him, eagerly holding something in her hands. She bounced on her heels, waiting for Braxton to set his jacket and carry-on down.

  Seconds passed, but she seemed too excited to wait. “We’re pregnant.” Her voice quivered with excitement and she threw herself at Braxton.

  He caught her in his arms and swung her around in a circle before placing her on her feet. He knew she wasn’t lying, but he still asked the questions. “Are you sure? Is it really true? We’re going to have a baby?”

  “Yes. Yes. And yes,” Paisley replied.

  “Oh, butterfly. I’m so happy for you.”

  The smile fell from Paisley’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” Braxton’s eyebrows turned down.

  “You said you were happy for me, not us.”

  He immediately understood the impact of his words. Braxton hadn’t meant anything by it; he had just said the first thing that popped into his head as his heart sped up then dropped to the pit of his stomach at the news.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, honey. I’m elated. This is great news for us.”

  “Are you sure? Be honest.”

  “Yes.” He reached out, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her tightly
to him. “I’m very happy for us.”

  They both stood, embracing; Paisley cried tears of joy and Braxton prayed to the man upstairs to make sure she survived the pregnancy. Once a pessimist, always a pessimist, I guessed.

  Chapter 33

  An excited Paisley sat on the edge of the examination table as she and Braxton waited for Dr. Erickson to come into the room. The morning after she’d shared the news with Braxton, she’d called her gynecologist to make an appointment. It had taken a couple of weeks, but now here they were, ready to confirm the double pink lines were accurate.

  A tall, thin gentleman entered the room, wearing teal-colored scrubs. He appeared to be in his early forties. His hair was a sandy blond, and it looked as if he hadn’t combed it in weeks.

  “I’m Doctor Erickson. Nice to meet you”—he glanced at the tablet in his hand briefly— “Braxton.” He extended his other hand to Braxton, giving him a firm shake. “Good to see you again, Paisley.”

  He sat his tablet on the counter and took a seat on a rolling stool. As he asked questions and Paisley answered, his fingers typed quickly, adding the information into their system. Braxton sat nervously in a chair beside his wife, trying not to compare this moment to his past experience with Alissa.

  “Ready to see what’s going on?” Erickson asked as he stood and moved toward the ultrasound machine next to Paisley.

  Paisley glanced at the machine as the warm glob of goo was being spread around her belly.

  “Looks pretty good to me,” Dr. Erickson said. “This is your amniotic sack, where your baby will grow.”

  Paisley and Braxton looked at the monitor and he only saw a black obscured emptiness amongst all the light and dark grey matter that was Paisley’s uterus. Braxton zoned out as Paisley and Erickson spoke about what the future held for them. He’d seen all he needed to see: the confirmation that he’d once again be a father.

  As the weeks passed, the initial joy Braxton had felt began to be replaced with anxiety. Paisley’s morning sickness had started almost immediately and hadn’t let up. She found herself constantly throwing up, and it became a struggle for her to keep weight on and food down.

  One particular evening, Paisley was unable to stop vomiting. She’d spent most of the day in the bathroom, and now, before bed, she was once again in their en suite.

  “Braxton,” Paisley called out to him as she sat straddling the base of the toilet, her head resting on the cool porcelain seat. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Unable to do anything other than sit beside her and rub one hand over her back as he held her hair with the other, he tried to comfort her. “I’m here, butterfly; it's going to be okay. I promise.” He knew he couldn’t guarantee anything, but somehow just saying the words made him relax.

  She raised her head enough to meet his eyes. “Something is wrong.”

  They waited just a bit longer before Paisley begged Braxton to take her to the emergency room.

  A quick examination determined that she’d become dehydrated from all the vomiting. They waited for the doctor on-call to come and discuss the ultrasound the nurse had done to ensure everything was fine with the baby. And in the meantime, they hooked her up to an IV of fluids and anti-nausea medicine and let it run its course.

  Just as the bag of fluids was nearing the end, a very aged doctor appeared in the room. His face was weathered and wrinkled.

  “So, you’re having a bad bout of morning sickness, are you?” He smiled at Paisley. It forced his cheeks to squish together but showed his yellowed teeth. “Well, aside from the dehydration, I want to reassure you that your twins are just fine.”

  Paisley quickly jerked her head toward Braxton who stood beside her. He began to sway on his feet, quickly reaching behind him with one hand to find the chair he knew was somewhere close by. He stumbled back, falling into the chair, half slumped over.

  “Nurse,” the doctor yelled. The partition swung open and a very short overweight woman entered the room. “Get Mr. Michaels some water, please. He looks as if he’s going to be ill.”

  Braxton reached for the trash can just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. Everyone in the room watched patiently, waiting for him to finish.

  Without a flinch, the doctor reached over, snagged a couple of Kleenex from the box, and held them out. “Are you going to be alright, boy?” the doctor asked.

  “Did you say, twins?” he questioned.

  The doctor looked between Braxton and Paisley. “Oh my, you had no idea you were having twins?”

  Both of them shook their heads.

  “I see. When was your last ultrasound?”

  “Right after we found out we were pregnant. We were around twelve weeks then.”

  An aged hand rested on Paisley's shoulder. “Well, that explains it then. Sometimes when you have only one amniotic sac, the second twin can be hidden behind the first that early on and not easily detected. It isn’t until you’re around twenty or more weeks along that the second baby is fully visible.”

  Paisley extended her hand toward Braxton. Without hesitation, his hand found hers and he stood, placing his other arm around the back of her neck as he leaned in and kissed her lips tenderly.

  “I’m sorry, Brax. I know this isn’t what you expected.” Her eyes were tight, her concern apparent. “I should have known this could happen—Paxton and I are fraternal twins.”

  Braxton was still in shock as they left the hospital; the ride home was quiet as he contemplated what this meant for him. Now, not only did he have to worry about Paisley surviving this pregnancy, he had to worry about two children.

  “Stop it,” Paisley said to him from the passenger seat. “I know what’s going through your head right now. You’re scared and analyzing all the things that could go wrong for me, but you don’t have to.”

  Braxton glanced in her direction; his one raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

  “You heard the doctor—I’m healthy and the babies are fine.”

  She was right, but now he had to figure out how to handle his overactive mind. This was his problem and not hers to deal with. Because it didn’t matter how many times he received reassurance, he was going to have to come to terms with it on his own.

  By week twenty-five, Paisley’s morning sickness began to subside and she was able to maintain a steady increase in her weight. As the weeks went on, Braxton also began to relax and enjoy her pregnancy. He was excited at the fact that he was now going to be the father of three children and not two.

  Her six-month checkup revealed she was pregnant with baby boys.

  “Are you excited we’re having boys?” she’d asked.

  “Ten fingers, ten toes, and healthy. That’s all I can ask for, butterfly.” He’d smiled as he said the words, but secretly, he’d prayed for a boy, one to carry on the Michaels name. Though he’d never admit that to Paisley. “Are you sad that they aren’t girls?”

  “Nope, we’ve got a girl. Now we’ll have boys.”

  As they left the doctor’s office, Braxton wrapped an arm around Paisley's waist and she pushed Emmy’s stroller. They were the picture-perfect family.

  Night after night, once Emmersyn was in bed, Braxton and Paisley would lay in their bed and debate what names were appropriate for their sons. Braxton liked the names Taylor, Colton, and Justin. Paisley, of course, wanted to keep with her family tradition, and felt strongly that they should name them Preston, Peter, or Patrick.

  “Come on, butterfly. Work with me, will ya? I just can’t agree to another P name. Could you imagine our family reunion?” Braxton had been lying on his back, his hands behind his head, displaying his bare chiseled chest. “Meet my wife, Paisley, her brother, Paxton, and our two boys, Peter and Patrick. It’s too much, baby. Meet me halfway. I’ll give in to one P name if you agree to one of my names.”

  Paisley ran her fingers down the center of his abdomen and then back up. Her body craved to feel his skin on hers, but her belly was constantly in the way these days. “A compromise, y
ou say?” She pretended to contemplate the idea as she glanced into the air. “I agree to one of your names, and you agree to one of mine. Hmm. If I say no, then what?”

  Braxton had always loved this playful side of Paisley; he knew she was going to give in. She just wanted him to suffer some. “No is not an option, my wife. If you don’t agree, you’ll never feel my tongue against your skin again. Or in other places, for that matter.”

  Just the thought had Paisley ready to agree to anything he wanted. “I pick Colton then from your list. Do you have a preference from mine?”

  Braxton appeared to be contemplating his response.

  “I like Preston, just in case you care,” she added before he could give his answer.

  Braxton rolled to his side to face her. His thumb brushed against her cheek as his fingers dug into her hair, tugging her face toward his. His lips brushed against hers, once, twice, three times before he spoke. “I love those names, butterfly. They’re perfect, just like you.” He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

  Paisley straddled his waist, ready to satisfy herself and then him.

  Chapter 34

  Braxton sat behind his desk, staring at a picture of a pregnant Paisley and his little princess, Emmersyn, all dressed in pink. He couldn’t ask for more in life than what he’d been given. The perfect wife, a beautiful daughter, and two sons who were just about ready to join them in the world.

  He’d come to the office early so he could finish up a few things before he took Paisley to her appointment. She was in her third trimester, and it was time for another ultrasound. They were looking forward to this appointment and seeing their boys once again.