[Fic] The Waiting Game (3/4)
Title: The Waiting Game
Rating: PG
Pairing: France/England
Warning: AU, Human Names, Slash
Summary: It isn't easy waiting for a baby, especially when you've been trying to adopt for nearly two years. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1|Part 2
Part 3
Arthur couldn't recall ever feeling more knotted up and jittery. His legs hadn't stopped shaking since they had sat down in the stiff wooden chairs occupying the dark oaky room held within the county courthouse and he was certain that if he tried to stand, he would only end up tipping over and collapsing onto the polished table in front of him. To his right he saw that Francis didn't look much better. His face seemed pale and flushed all at once and his hands, placed firmly in his lap, were wringing his fingers so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white.
They had waited for this day for so long that it hardly felt possible to actually be here and even now the idea that something could still go wrong weighed heavily on Arthur's minds.
What if Alberta doesn't show up? What if the Joneses changed their minds and pulled out at the last minute? What if...?
"Thank you for coming at such short notice, Ludwig," Francis managed to say as he turned towards Ludwig who was sitting on the other side of him.
"It was no trouble, really," Ludwig assured. He was all business at the moment, wired framed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he shuffled through the papers spread out in front of him. Even after all these years of knowing them it was difficult for Arthur to remind himself that this was Gilbert's younger brother he was looking at, because the two couldn't have been more different in terms of manners and work ethic. According to Francis, the only thing the Beilschmidt siblings had in common was their mutual fondness of beer and wurst. "I had been expecting this day sooner or later."
"Yes, well we feel awful for keeping you on notice like this for so long," Francis went on. Arthur knew that Francis was only making conversation in the hopes of easing the tension twisted up inside of him, but engaging Ludwig in small talk was a taxing effort.
"There is no need," he said firmly as he turned to offer the couple a small smile. "I am quite happy for the both of you."
Arthur watched as Francis relaxed somewhat, a nervous smile slipping onto his features, and Arthur took the opportunity to slip his hand into his husband's tense grasp. He was soon rewarded by the feel of both of Francis's hands looping around his and giving his fingers a too tight squeeze, but he didn't mind. He only bothered to lean over and offer Francis's cheek a quick peck, a gesture that caused his lips to curl upward just as the door slipped open.
Tino entered the dimly lit room with Alberta and Mrs. Jones following closely behind him. It had been at least a month since they had last seen Alberta and in that time the girl had grown significantly larger. Her stomach had expanded and now protruded in a more pronounced manner that made it nearly impossible to hide, no matter how many layers of clothing she piled on. Her face had also changed somewhat, growing rounder and fuller with black bags now hanging beneath her violet eyes. She was dressed in a black blouse with wrinkled khakis and an old gray jacket tossed over her shoulders. Her hair was combed and braided off to the side. Her mother was currently wearing a red cardigan draped over a white dress shirt and black pleated skirt. Arthur couldn't help thinking that the two women looked as if they were attending a funeral.
The three of them stood as Tino and the Joneses entered the room, and Arthur silently marveled at the fact that he had managed to stand without even wobbling. He watched as Alberta stiffened, her round face paling slightly at the sight of Ludwig and her feet seemed to slow to a shuffle before going completely still.
"Oh, uh, who's this?" she asked meekly as she began to shrink into herself as her eyes landed on Ludwig before slipping away. "I thought this was going to be a private meeting."
"Do not worry, Bertie, this is just our lawyer, Ludwig Beilschmidt," Francis explained, using his most soothing tone to speak to the startled child.
"Your lawyer?" she repeated and the mere act of speaking the words seemed to take something out of her.
"I didn't realize you would be bringing an attorney to this meeting," Mrs. Jones noted as she grasped her daughter's elbow in a protective manner.
"Oh, it's quite common," Tino assured the Joneses.
"Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy just want to make sure that we all have a clear understanding of what their rights will be during the pregnancy and after the babies are born," Ludwig explained in his usual straight forward tone and Arthur could tell it did little to comfort the girl.
Yet Alberta did manage to give a weak nod as she and her mother took their seats on the opposite side of the table. The others followed suit and sat down in order to begin the procedure.
"Now, precisely how far along are you?" Ludwig asked as he began jotting down a few notes.
"Um, six months," Alberta said.
"Twenty-four weeks, to be precise," Mrs. Jones put in. "Of course, since Bertie is carrying twins, the doctor wants us to come in for an induction."
"Oh, so you've scheduled a date for the birth?" Arthur asked intrigued by the idea that he would be able to know the exact date his future children would be born.
Bertie nodded as she pulled at the cuffs of her sleeves. "July second," she informed them.
"How wonderful," Francis beamed as he reached underneath the table in order to grasp Arthur's fingers and give them a firm squeeze. "We will be parents by the summer."
"Very well then," Ludwig hummed as he continued to scribble down a few notes. "And during the delivery..."
"Oh, well, about that," Mrs. Jones put in. She reached over towards her daughter and grasped her shoulder in a reassuring grip. "We decided that it may be best for Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy not to be in the delivery room with us."
"Excuse me?" Francis put in, his eyes widening and his grasp tightening in response.
"Well, Bertie is still just a girl," Mrs. Jones explained. "And even given all that's happened..."
"We understand completely," Arthur said quickly as he gave the back of Francis's hand a comforting pat. It would be disappointing not to see their children being born, but Arthur understood that it would be a bit inappropriate for them to be in the delivery room given that the birth mother was still very much underage.
"Now then," Ludwig cut in. "Let us move on to after the pregnancy. Will this be a closed adoption or an open adoption?"
"Closed adoption?" Alberta repeated, a note of bewilderment creeping into her voice. "Whuh... what does that mean?"
"A closed adoption means that after the babies are born and put into Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy's custody, you will not be able to see them again," Tino explained. "The children won't know who you are or anything else about you until they are ready to learn for themselves. Now, in an open adoption, you can still remain in contact with the babies and their parents. The babies will know you as their mother and, if Mr. Kirkland and Bonnefoy feel comfortable, you may even be allowed to visit."
Alberta gave a slow nod as she listened to Tino speak. Her eyes were still wide and slightly overwhelmed, but she seemed to have gotten most of what was being said. "Oh, well, I don't know about that second thing," she said thoughtfully as she glanced over at her mother. "An open adoption... I picked you guys 'cause you seemed so nice and... and I think it might be confusing for the babies to live with you and then see me and stuff. Plus..." Her eyes sank lower, settling on the round bulge of her stomach in a melancholy sort of way. "I think it would hurt. Seeing them and knowing that they're not mine."
Arthur didn't know whether to feel relieved or dejected at Alberta's words. On the one hand, knowing that the babies would be one hundred percent theirs made matters simpler, but a part of him did still feel sorry for the confused little girl.
They continued to ask questions and make decisions on the matter and within less than an hour Arthur found himself, Francis, and Alberta signing a paper that made the twins officially theirs. There was no turning back now and that knowledge made Arthur's head feel incredibly light.
"We are going to be parents! We are going to be parents!" Francis practically sang out once they were alone in the building's lobby. His arms were wrapped tightly around Arthur's neck making it somewhat difficult for him to breath, but Arthur allowed it. He knew exactly how Francis was feeling and it was taking every ounce of self restraint in him not to make a spectacle out of himself along with his husband. "Oh Arthur, I have waited so long for this day," he all but swooned. "We are finally at the fun part."
"Fun part?" Arthur repeated as he carefully detangled himself from Francis's grasp. "I would hardly call this the fun part. After all we're going to spend the next three months sitting around and waiting while our unborn babies are completely out of our sight."
"Yes, that is true," Francis sighed as he laced their hands together and began leading Arthur towards the parking garage. "But now that we know that there will be babies, we can actually start to make plans. We can tell our friends and family and go shopping for baby clothes!"
"My poor bank account," Arthur moaned sarcastically. "I can see a hefty bill from the credit company in the near feature."
"Let us go celebrate!" Francis put in eagerly, too elated to hear one word from Arthur's lips. "I know of a wonderful little bistro that just opened up downtown."
Arthur sighed heavily as he stopped the two of them in their tracks. They had already made it out the door and were currently standing in the middle of the shaded garage and hidden from the late afternoon sun. "Francis, do you remember that little talk we had a few days ago about tightening our purse strings?" Arthur chided gently. "Well if you want to be able to keep a roof over our heads after the children are born, then we'll have to stop dining at fabulous little bistros and keep to eating at home."
"I did not say 'fabulous.' I said 'wonderful.'"
"Yes, well it doesn't matter if it's 'wonderful,' 'fabulous,' 'quaint,' or 'kitschy,' we simply can't go."
"Fine," he relented with a heavy sigh. "Let us just down go to the public library and rent a study room where we can violate each other."
--
It didn't take long for Francis to spread the word that they were finally expecting a baby and the next few days saw a flood of well wishes and congratulations from friends and relatives. Arthur still marveled at how Francis had managed to inform his officemates of the good news, especially since he had never given him a direct work number, because upon arriving at his cubicle the next morning Arthur found a gift shop's worth of baskets, balloons, and congratulatory cards waiting on or around his desk.
Even Yao was in good spirits that day and decided to deliver his gift, a stuffed blue and white panda bear, personally when he visited Arthur's desk that afternoon.
"So you finally took my advice," Yao all but beamed as he deposited the bear, along with the usual stack of papers, on Arthur's lap. "I'm sure you and husband will be very happy."
"Well, it wasn't really your advice that made up my mind," Arthur pointed out as he placed the papers on his desk and carefully tucked the doll away with the other gifts. "But thanks anyway for the bear."
"More where that came from," Yao told him happily. "I have lots of old baby things you can have."
Arthur hummed and gave a thoughtful frown as he swiveled around in his chair in order to get a better look at the little panda. It was only then that he started to notice a few stray threads here and there and the dinginess of the white patches of fur. He supposed that Mr. Panda would need a few washes before venturing into his baby's room.
--
Digging through the mail box that evening, Arthur discovered even more warm greetings and friendly words of support waiting for him. A part of him was starting to get tired of all the well wishes and congratulations, but he reasoned that it was a nice little change of pace from the usual assortment of bills and junk mail. Of course, there was one piece of mail that stuck out above the others.
The large yellow packet poking out above all the colorful greeting card envelopes was attention grabbing on its own, but it was the bright purple ink scribbled in a somewhat girlish manner was what truly drew him to it.
He brought the envelope, along with the rest of the mail, directly to the nursery where Francis was hard at work putting the finishing touches on the mural he had started a few weeks ago. He had asked Francis what the mural was supposed to be and was a bit surprised when he told him it was the ocean. The pristine beach scenery was starting to become a bit more fleshed out with the looming red and white light house set along the shore already completed and only a small sail boat drifting along the sun drenched waters left to be completed.
"It will be something different for our babies to look at," Francis had explained. "Not the usual bunny rabbit and teddy bear affair. Of course, I want you to contribute something to the room as well. Perhaps you can knit the babies a blanket."
"Francis, I don't knit, I sew," he had clarified with a roll of his eyes. Of course, he had taken Francis's suggestion to heart and had visited the craft store the next day in order to gather supplies for his little project.
Arthur took a moment to smile at Francis, still sporting his paint stained clothes and wearing his hair pulled back and away from his face. A small part of him was somewhat reluctant to see an end to this painting spree, but Francis was now determined to finish it all within a month so that the room would be completely free from any paint smells before the babies could arrive. Then, of course, a spree of serious baby shopping would begin once all the decorating was complete and Arthur was not looking forward to being dragged from store to store in order to gather supplies for the twins.
"We got an interesting bit of mail today," Arthur announced in order to gain Francis's attention.
"Oh?" he said with a distracted hum, his eyes never leaving the wall in front of him.
"Yes, a package from Alberta it seems."
That was more than enough to grant him Francis's full attention and Arthur had to fight against the urge to snicker as Francis all but spun around in order to stare at the bundle of letters in his hands. "From Bertie?" Francis nearly squeaked as he put down his brush and paints on top of one of the still unopened boxes. "How did she get our address?"
"The agency, I suppose," Arthur reasoned with a shrug as he handed Francis the large letter before putting the rest aside.
"Oh look," Francis crooned happily as he stared at the front of the package. "'To Mr. & Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland.' How cute!"
Arthur rolled his eyes as Francis soon began tearing into the envelope, but had to admit that it was somewhat cute. There was no letter or note waiting for them inside, only a few black and white pictures of what looked to be a couple of large gray blobs.
"It is our babies," Francis swooned. He clutched all three pictures in his hands, flipping through them with mounting glee.
"How can you tell?" Arthur asked skeptically as he plucked one of the images from his hand. Now that he was able to take a moment to stare carefully at the black and white figures, he could clearly see the outlines of the little bodies curled together in such tight quarters. He chuckled softly to himself, because it almost looked as if one twin were sitting on top of the other.
"What do you think they will be?" Francis asked as he looked between all three pictures. "Boys or girls? Or one of each?"
"I don't know," Arthur said honestly, because it was difficult for him to make out anything beyond the little arms, legs, and heads in the blurry pictures. "I don't really see anything that could indicate one way or another."
Francis gave a long hum as he bobbed his head thoughtfully and Arthur could tell in that instant that the same thought that had just drifted through his mind had entered Francis's head. "We have to think of names for the babies," Francis sighed.
"You're right. They'll will be here fairly soon and we can't keep calling them 'the babies' or 'the twins' forever."
"We should make a list," he suggested as he reluctantly put the pictures back into their envelope.
Francis made to put away his paints and supplies just as Arthur went to his den in order to find a pen and pad of notebook paper. He had just retrieved his stationary from within the top drawer of the desk when Francis entered the small room. Francis sat down heavily in the arms of their beaten up old desk chair while Arthur was left to stand over the cluttered writing table.
"Let's start with boy names," Arthur suggested. "That'll be easier."
"No, let us begin with girl names," Francis whined. "That will be more fun."
Arthur gave a heavy sigh as he drew a line down the middle of his pad, effectively dividing the paper between "Boy Names" and "Girl Names." "Fine, I'll humor you," he relented as he tapped his pen thoughtfully against the page. "Well, it's a tradition in my family that we name the first born after a relative." Arthur began as he scribbled a name down on the paper. "What do you think if we name one after my Aunt Gertie?"
Francis visibly grimaced at the suggestion, shuddering as if the name had left a bitter taste on his tongue. "You want to name our daughter 'Gertrude'? Arthur, the baby has not even been born yet. Why do you already hate her?"
"A simple 'no' would suffice," he huffed as he crossed the name off the list and began to write another. "Fine, not Gertrude. What about 'Ophelia'?"
"No," Francis put in flatly. "And that goes for all other Shakespearean heroines you may think of."
Arthur grumbled bitterly to himself as he scratched off yet another name from the notebook. "Well, you've shot down two of my names. How about you make a suggestion that we can ultimately rejected?"
"I think that we should name one of the girls 'Marianne.'"
"After your mother?" Arthur asked with a bitter scoff. "I don't think so."
The two of them went back and forth in that manner for hours. At one point they moved on to male names after realizing that they were going nowhere in terms of naming their daughters. However, they soon began to recognize that coming up with names for their sons were just as difficult.
"This would be so much simpler if Bertie had only told us the sexes," Francis lamented over a takeout box of fried rice. They had taken a short break to order dinner, but even on a full stomach the two found that they could not agree on anything.
"She probably thinks it's more fun this way," Arthur reasoned as he added another packet of soy sauce to his sweet and sour pork. "Gives us a bit of a surprise in the end and all."
"I suppose so, but it is still quite troublesome."
They didn't get much further that night or the next and the list of rejected names continued to grow until they had two whole notebooks filled with dismissed candidates.
--
"I hope that we have girls," Francis sighed.
Arthur tore his eyes away from the newsstand and the row of cigarette cartons on display just above the shelves of newspapers and magazines. He and Francis had quit smoking more than two years ago, somewhere around the time when they had started discussing having children, but even after the hell they had both gone through to kick the habit Arthur still found himself longing for the occasional smoke.
Francis wasn't looking at cigarettes though. His eyes were fixed on a woman who was currently kneeling down on the ground and wiping at the cheeks of girl who could be no more than four years old. The girl was chubby and cute and wore her hair in pigtails.
"Why?" Arthur found himself asking as he gave Francis's fingers a gentle squeeze, a signal for him to keep walking. They had started taking walks around town on Sunday afternoons in place of the matinees that they usually frequented. It was cheaper and the fresh air was better for them, but Arthur had to admit that he missed the luxury of being able to steal a quick snog from Francis during a boring scene or being able to sneak a sip of rum from the flask he would hide in his coat pockets. Those simple pleasures would have to be put aside for now, because two grown men holding hands in public was risky enough.
"Girls are so much cuter," Francis explained as he motioned towards another little girl wearing a frilly pink dress with butterflies clipped to her hair. "It would be so much fun to shop for them."
"I don't want girls," Arthur put in firmly as he tugged Francis towards the park and away from all the shops that he would be tempted to drag them into. "Girls get pregnant. Like that Jones girl."
"That Jones girl is the whole reason we are able to have this conversation," Francis said pointedly.
"Exactly," he shot back. "I can't imagine what her poor father must be going through. And her mother..." He shook his head slowly in the hopes of dispelling the too clear image of Mrs. Jones's sad, fretful face, but it didn't work. "I'd hate to be put through that sort of hell."
"Do you really think that our girls will end up that way just because their mother did?" Francis asked wearily.
"No, I'm just saying that with girls it's trickier. You have to consider these sorts of things."
"Boys may not get pregnant, but they can become young fathers," Francis informed him. "Like that Williams boy, for example."
Arthur hummed as he thought about James Williams. He had never met the boy face to face, but only knew that the adoption agency, as a formality, had asked Alberta to contact him in order to get him to sign away his paternal rights to the babies. From what Arthur had heard, Williams had skipped town soon after Alberta had discovered she was pregnant and was currently living with relatives up north. He certainly wasn't the sort of character he wanted their children to take after.
"Well, that's clearly the result of the boy's poor upbringing," Arthur noted sagely as they strolled past a few couples sitting comfortably in park benches underneath the trees. "Our boys won't be like that."
"And our girls won't be like Bertie."
"No," he sighed unenthusiastically. "They'll be much worse."
"What?" Francis snapped as he came to a halt along the sidewalk, tugging Arthur's hand in order to get him to do the same.
"Oh, come off it Francis, you're no saint," Arthur chided. "I'd heard about your reputation in university long before I met you. You were passed around more dorm rooms than a poorly rolled joint."
"Well I am sorry, but we cannot all be sexually repressed virgins well into our twenties."
"Dammit Francis, I've told you a hundred times I wasn't a virgin when we met!"
"Then why were you so terrible in bed? No one could be that awkward and clumsy unless it was their first time."
Arthur sighed as his eyes began to drift towards the playground only a few paces away from them. Children of all shapes and sizes were there, playing in the sand, climbing along the monkey bars, and giggling as they slipped down the slide. In that moment, he couldn't help wondering just how screwed up any child raised by the two of them would turn out. Between Francis's overly sexualized nature and Arthur's tendency to repress nearly every sentiment that wasn't bathed in sarcasm, it would be a miracle if their twins didn't end up a pair of complete emotional wrecks.
Francis must have followed his gaze, because in the silence that fell upon the two of them, he took a moment to give Arthur's fingers a gentle sort of squeeze. "Do not think about it," Francis instructed knowingly and his calm words only helped to cause Arthur's thoughts to come to a grinding stop.
"What?" he asked as he turned to stare at him.
"I know where your mind is going right now," Francis sighed as he tugged Arthur's hand and once again began walking across the park. "So stop your bleak pondering right now."
Arthur didn't say anything to that, because the last thing he wanted was to prove Francis right. He walked on, all the while stealing glances towards the playground and listening as the excited squeals and eager laughs began to fade away into the distance.
"I suppose it doesn't matter if we have boys or girls," Arthur reasoned after a few minutes of silence.
Francis smiled in approval at the thought as he gave Arthur's shoulder a comforting pat.
"But I'd still like to have boys."
"I would still prefer girls," Francis put in.
He hummed thoughtfully at that. "Perhaps they'll be one of each."
"Yes, let us hope for that."
--
"Here's a picture of Artie from when he was wee," Mummy announced as she pulled out a small, yellowing photograph from within her purse.
"Mummy," Arthur groaned, a near growl curling from his lips as he glared pointedly at his mother. If they weren't currently sitting at a table in the middle of a crowded restaurant he would have done more to stop his mother from handing the picture over to Francis, but as it was he could only sit back and silently seethe in disapproval.
"Oh, how cute!" Francis crooned as he gazed at the still glossy image of Arthur's infant self crawling around in bunny pajamas.
"Mon Dieu!" Madame Bonnefoy gasped, her eyes widening in alarm at the very sight before her. "Have you ever seen such a bushy browed babe?"
"It's a family trait," Mummy sighed wearily as she touched a slightly self conscious finger to her own heavy eyebrows.
"Well it suits him," Francis said, smiling down at the picture even as Arthur made to snatch the photo out of his hands. "I can keep this one, yes?"
Mummy offered him a small smile as she waved her hand in agreement. Francis beamed as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and tucked the picture inside. Arthur made a mental note of its location and swore to tear it up the first chance he got.
Madame Bonnefoy gave a soft sort of sigh as she straightened in her chair and smoothed out the folds in her skirt. "Well now, have you two gotten everything ready for the babies?" she asked as she raised her near empty glass, motioning for it to be refilled.
"Almost Madame," Arthur informed her as he grabbed the bottle of wine from the edge of the table in order to top off her glass with the burgundy liquid.
"Madame Bonnefoy," she noted in a sharpened, yet soft, tone and Arthur caught the way his own mother's eyes narrowed at the other woman's remark.
"We have just finished painting the nursery," Francis said proudly as he raised his glass in self satisfaction.
"And put together most of the furniture," Arthur put in.
The two women took a moment to give a chorused tsk before shaking their heads and sipping from their glasses. Arthur had to marvel at the two of them. On most days they couldn't stand to be in the same room as one another without hissing, yet when their sons were concerned they couldn't be more like minded.
"We said we were almost done," Arthur said with an already defeated sigh, because he knew, as always, that their mothers had an answer for him.
"'Almost' and 'mostly' are not good enough when preparing for a baby," Mummy chided gently as she placed her glass down next to her half empty dish of roast beef and seasoned vegetables. She clucked her tongue as she lifted her fork to nudge her food about the plate. "And in this case, there are two babies to make ready for."
"The second of July is just around the corner," Madame Bonnefoy noted in a sing songed sort of tone. She always became a bit musical when she was feeling tipsy. "Two weeks away at that. You two do need to start getting yourselves in order. Have you even determined what to call the little ones?"
A heavy groan escaped from both Arthur and Francis at the reminder of that particular subject. Weeks had passed since the two had begun to work on picking names for the twins and they hadn't made any great strides towards anything they could agree on.
Their mothers seemed to recognize the synchronized moans of displeasure and gave one another a secretive sort of smile in response, as if the two had been waiting for the moment when they could share this sort of agony with their children.
"Well, have you at least given any thought to who will be watching the babies after both of you have gone back to work?" Mummy asked them as she gave her eyebrows a very pointed arch.
"Of course we would be more than happy to have you watch the twins," Arthur told her automatically, before adding, "that is, if you were willing to, Mummy."
Mummy was practically preening at that and her eyes were all but glowing as a smug smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "I would love to," she beamed as she sent her gaze towards Madame Bonnefoy as if to silently say "I win."
"What about me?" Madame Bonnefoy nearly pouted as she placed her wine glass down without as much as a soft clank. "I could watch the children for you."
"We would ask you Maman, but you live so far away," Francis clarified.
"Besides, we don't want the grand babies slipping from those slimy frog fingers of yours," Mummy snipped as she took a slow sip from her glass.
Arthur watched as Madame Bonnefoy's eyes widened before narrowing to fiery little slits. "Better than having them raised on your bland cooking," she returned. "If we are not careful, those poor babies may actually end up choking on those charred couch cushions you call scones."
"That is if they aren't first suffocated by that expensive toilet water you bathe yourself in!"
"You withered old hag!"
"Washed up tramp!"
"Ladies, ladies!" Arthur chided as he placed a firm hand over his mother's wrist, and used his other to move the steak knife out of her grasp.
"Maman, do not quarrel with Mrs. Kirkland," Francis chided as he gave her balled fists a few gentle pats until her spidery fingers began to uncurl. "You are more than welcomed to watch the children whenever you are in town."
"Well, then I want to stay with the two of you after the babies are born," Madame Bonnefoy put in stubbornly. Her eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a challenging sort of way that made Arthur's stomach tighten and his skin go pale. "I will stay and help with my grandbabies for the first week that they are home."
"Madame Bonnefoy," Arthur began as he clutched his glass with trembling fingers, "that's a very generous offer, but... but our house is so small."
"Your couch pulls out into a bed, does it not?" she put in quickly.
"Well, yes, but..."
"So I am sure that you and Francis will be comfortable there while I take your bedroom."
Arthur felt his throat tighten as his gaze shifted towards Francis in hopes that he would offer some form of support.
"Oh Maman," Francis began with a gentle sigh. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
Arthur managed to conceal the groan building in his throat by downing the last of his wine.
--
"Bunny rabbit and teddy bear," Francis tsked. At least, he attempted to, but the smile curling his lips made the act more than a bit difficult. Of course, the sight of Arthur cradling a homemade stuffed doll in each hand didn't serve to help matters either. Francis let out a full chuckle as he plucked the fuzzy white bear from Arthur's hands, caressing the soft fur with the pad of his thumb. The eyes hadn't come out exactly how Arthur had hoped, but he supposed the tiny black buttons served their purpose well. "You did this just to annoy me."
"Well, I suppose you can say that your words helped to inspire the creative process," Arthur teased as he gently tugged at the floppy brown ears of the white rabbit doll in his grasp. "I do think that our children will enjoy the usual 'bunny rabbit and teddy bear' affair."
Francis smiled and tossed the bear a few inches in the air before catching it and giving the well stuffed middle a gentle squeeze. "They will do," he agreed before placing the doll down on the far left corner of the crib.
Arthur had to admit that the white polar bear looked a bit strange resting on top of the powder blue sheets with their sail boat pattern. Of course, that didn't stop him from resting the white rabbit against the tiny pillows covered with the friendly blue whales decorating their plush surfaces. He smiled at the sight, looking between the two hand stitched toys resting in the crib that had for weeks remained unoccupied. It was nice to see them sitting there. It almost made the image of their soon to be born children sleeping soundly on the soft mattress that much clearer.
"They are almost here," Francis noted as he traced his fingers along the polished bars of the crib. "July second is just around the corner."
"This might be one of the last times our house is this calm and quiet," Arthur put in with a heavy sigh. "In a few days the babies will be here, your mother will be here..."
"I will miss it being just the two of us," Francis said truthfully, "but it will be so nice to have the house so full."
He nodded in agreement, because he knew that he would miss all the little things that went along with being a child free couple. Arthur knew that he would miss the freedom of being able to make love with the bedroom door open or in the kitchen or on the living room couch without the fear of someone walking in or overhearing. He would also miss the ability to have a beer with dinner without worrying over whether or not he was setting a bad example. More than anything, he would (secretly) miss the sight of Francis wandering around the house on lazy Saturday mornings wearing nothing but his bedroom slippers.
Of course, trading it all for the sound of little voices giggling in delight or the sight of tiny feet padding along the floors was an easy choice. Arthur smiled as he glanced at the nursery that was, after so very long, now filled with clothes, toys, and enough diapers to supply preschool for over a month. For the first time in ages, Arthur felt safe in saying that he was prepared for the arrival of their babies.
"We should go somewhere," he suggested as he gently tapped at Francis's shoulder. "After all, tomorrow night will be our last night as a childless couple. It's only right that we do something special."
"Can we go to that wonderful little bistro that opened downtown?" Francis gasped gleefully.
Arthur chuckled at the way Francis's eyes lit up as he began bouncing on the heels of his feet. "Fine. I suppose so."
Part 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: France/England
Warning: AU, Human Names, Slash
Summary: It isn't easy waiting for a baby, especially when you've been trying to adopt for nearly two years. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1|Part 2
Part 3
Arthur couldn't recall ever feeling more knotted up and jittery. His legs hadn't stopped shaking since they had sat down in the stiff wooden chairs occupying the dark oaky room held within the county courthouse and he was certain that if he tried to stand, he would only end up tipping over and collapsing onto the polished table in front of him. To his right he saw that Francis didn't look much better. His face seemed pale and flushed all at once and his hands, placed firmly in his lap, were wringing his fingers so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white.
They had waited for this day for so long that it hardly felt possible to actually be here and even now the idea that something could still go wrong weighed heavily on Arthur's minds.
What if Alberta doesn't show up? What if the Joneses changed their minds and pulled out at the last minute? What if...?
"Thank you for coming at such short notice, Ludwig," Francis managed to say as he turned towards Ludwig who was sitting on the other side of him.
"It was no trouble, really," Ludwig assured. He was all business at the moment, wired framed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he shuffled through the papers spread out in front of him. Even after all these years of knowing them it was difficult for Arthur to remind himself that this was Gilbert's younger brother he was looking at, because the two couldn't have been more different in terms of manners and work ethic. According to Francis, the only thing the Beilschmidt siblings had in common was their mutual fondness of beer and wurst. "I had been expecting this day sooner or later."
"Yes, well we feel awful for keeping you on notice like this for so long," Francis went on. Arthur knew that Francis was only making conversation in the hopes of easing the tension twisted up inside of him, but engaging Ludwig in small talk was a taxing effort.
"There is no need," he said firmly as he turned to offer the couple a small smile. "I am quite happy for the both of you."
Arthur watched as Francis relaxed somewhat, a nervous smile slipping onto his features, and Arthur took the opportunity to slip his hand into his husband's tense grasp. He was soon rewarded by the feel of both of Francis's hands looping around his and giving his fingers a too tight squeeze, but he didn't mind. He only bothered to lean over and offer Francis's cheek a quick peck, a gesture that caused his lips to curl upward just as the door slipped open.
Tino entered the dimly lit room with Alberta and Mrs. Jones following closely behind him. It had been at least a month since they had last seen Alberta and in that time the girl had grown significantly larger. Her stomach had expanded and now protruded in a more pronounced manner that made it nearly impossible to hide, no matter how many layers of clothing she piled on. Her face had also changed somewhat, growing rounder and fuller with black bags now hanging beneath her violet eyes. She was dressed in a black blouse with wrinkled khakis and an old gray jacket tossed over her shoulders. Her hair was combed and braided off to the side. Her mother was currently wearing a red cardigan draped over a white dress shirt and black pleated skirt. Arthur couldn't help thinking that the two women looked as if they were attending a funeral.
The three of them stood as Tino and the Joneses entered the room, and Arthur silently marveled at the fact that he had managed to stand without even wobbling. He watched as Alberta stiffened, her round face paling slightly at the sight of Ludwig and her feet seemed to slow to a shuffle before going completely still.
"Oh, uh, who's this?" she asked meekly as she began to shrink into herself as her eyes landed on Ludwig before slipping away. "I thought this was going to be a private meeting."
"Do not worry, Bertie, this is just our lawyer, Ludwig Beilschmidt," Francis explained, using his most soothing tone to speak to the startled child.
"Your lawyer?" she repeated and the mere act of speaking the words seemed to take something out of her.
"I didn't realize you would be bringing an attorney to this meeting," Mrs. Jones noted as she grasped her daughter's elbow in a protective manner.
"Oh, it's quite common," Tino assured the Joneses.
"Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy just want to make sure that we all have a clear understanding of what their rights will be during the pregnancy and after the babies are born," Ludwig explained in his usual straight forward tone and Arthur could tell it did little to comfort the girl.
Yet Alberta did manage to give a weak nod as she and her mother took their seats on the opposite side of the table. The others followed suit and sat down in order to begin the procedure.
"Now, precisely how far along are you?" Ludwig asked as he began jotting down a few notes.
"Um, six months," Alberta said.
"Twenty-four weeks, to be precise," Mrs. Jones put in. "Of course, since Bertie is carrying twins, the doctor wants us to come in for an induction."
"Oh, so you've scheduled a date for the birth?" Arthur asked intrigued by the idea that he would be able to know the exact date his future children would be born.
Bertie nodded as she pulled at the cuffs of her sleeves. "July second," she informed them.
"How wonderful," Francis beamed as he reached underneath the table in order to grasp Arthur's fingers and give them a firm squeeze. "We will be parents by the summer."
"Very well then," Ludwig hummed as he continued to scribble down a few notes. "And during the delivery..."
"Oh, well, about that," Mrs. Jones put in. She reached over towards her daughter and grasped her shoulder in a reassuring grip. "We decided that it may be best for Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy not to be in the delivery room with us."
"Excuse me?" Francis put in, his eyes widening and his grasp tightening in response.
"Well, Bertie is still just a girl," Mrs. Jones explained. "And even given all that's happened..."
"We understand completely," Arthur said quickly as he gave the back of Francis's hand a comforting pat. It would be disappointing not to see their children being born, but Arthur understood that it would be a bit inappropriate for them to be in the delivery room given that the birth mother was still very much underage.
"Now then," Ludwig cut in. "Let us move on to after the pregnancy. Will this be a closed adoption or an open adoption?"
"Closed adoption?" Alberta repeated, a note of bewilderment creeping into her voice. "Whuh... what does that mean?"
"A closed adoption means that after the babies are born and put into Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy's custody, you will not be able to see them again," Tino explained. "The children won't know who you are or anything else about you until they are ready to learn for themselves. Now, in an open adoption, you can still remain in contact with the babies and their parents. The babies will know you as their mother and, if Mr. Kirkland and Bonnefoy feel comfortable, you may even be allowed to visit."
Alberta gave a slow nod as she listened to Tino speak. Her eyes were still wide and slightly overwhelmed, but she seemed to have gotten most of what was being said. "Oh, well, I don't know about that second thing," she said thoughtfully as she glanced over at her mother. "An open adoption... I picked you guys 'cause you seemed so nice and... and I think it might be confusing for the babies to live with you and then see me and stuff. Plus..." Her eyes sank lower, settling on the round bulge of her stomach in a melancholy sort of way. "I think it would hurt. Seeing them and knowing that they're not mine."
Arthur didn't know whether to feel relieved or dejected at Alberta's words. On the one hand, knowing that the babies would be one hundred percent theirs made matters simpler, but a part of him did still feel sorry for the confused little girl.
They continued to ask questions and make decisions on the matter and within less than an hour Arthur found himself, Francis, and Alberta signing a paper that made the twins officially theirs. There was no turning back now and that knowledge made Arthur's head feel incredibly light.
"We are going to be parents! We are going to be parents!" Francis practically sang out once they were alone in the building's lobby. His arms were wrapped tightly around Arthur's neck making it somewhat difficult for him to breath, but Arthur allowed it. He knew exactly how Francis was feeling and it was taking every ounce of self restraint in him not to make a spectacle out of himself along with his husband. "Oh Arthur, I have waited so long for this day," he all but swooned. "We are finally at the fun part."
"Fun part?" Arthur repeated as he carefully detangled himself from Francis's grasp. "I would hardly call this the fun part. After all we're going to spend the next three months sitting around and waiting while our unborn babies are completely out of our sight."
"Yes, that is true," Francis sighed as he laced their hands together and began leading Arthur towards the parking garage. "But now that we know that there will be babies, we can actually start to make plans. We can tell our friends and family and go shopping for baby clothes!"
"My poor bank account," Arthur moaned sarcastically. "I can see a hefty bill from the credit company in the near feature."
"Let us go celebrate!" Francis put in eagerly, too elated to hear one word from Arthur's lips. "I know of a wonderful little bistro that just opened up downtown."
Arthur sighed heavily as he stopped the two of them in their tracks. They had already made it out the door and were currently standing in the middle of the shaded garage and hidden from the late afternoon sun. "Francis, do you remember that little talk we had a few days ago about tightening our purse strings?" Arthur chided gently. "Well if you want to be able to keep a roof over our heads after the children are born, then we'll have to stop dining at fabulous little bistros and keep to eating at home."
"I did not say 'fabulous.' I said 'wonderful.'"
"Yes, well it doesn't matter if it's 'wonderful,' 'fabulous,' 'quaint,' or 'kitschy,' we simply can't go."
"Fine," he relented with a heavy sigh. "Let us just down go to the public library and rent a study room where we can violate each other."
--
It didn't take long for Francis to spread the word that they were finally expecting a baby and the next few days saw a flood of well wishes and congratulations from friends and relatives. Arthur still marveled at how Francis had managed to inform his officemates of the good news, especially since he had never given him a direct work number, because upon arriving at his cubicle the next morning Arthur found a gift shop's worth of baskets, balloons, and congratulatory cards waiting on or around his desk.
Even Yao was in good spirits that day and decided to deliver his gift, a stuffed blue and white panda bear, personally when he visited Arthur's desk that afternoon.
"So you finally took my advice," Yao all but beamed as he deposited the bear, along with the usual stack of papers, on Arthur's lap. "I'm sure you and husband will be very happy."
"Well, it wasn't really your advice that made up my mind," Arthur pointed out as he placed the papers on his desk and carefully tucked the doll away with the other gifts. "But thanks anyway for the bear."
"More where that came from," Yao told him happily. "I have lots of old baby things you can have."
Arthur hummed and gave a thoughtful frown as he swiveled around in his chair in order to get a better look at the little panda. It was only then that he started to notice a few stray threads here and there and the dinginess of the white patches of fur. He supposed that Mr. Panda would need a few washes before venturing into his baby's room.
--
Digging through the mail box that evening, Arthur discovered even more warm greetings and friendly words of support waiting for him. A part of him was starting to get tired of all the well wishes and congratulations, but he reasoned that it was a nice little change of pace from the usual assortment of bills and junk mail. Of course, there was one piece of mail that stuck out above the others.
The large yellow packet poking out above all the colorful greeting card envelopes was attention grabbing on its own, but it was the bright purple ink scribbled in a somewhat girlish manner was what truly drew him to it.
He brought the envelope, along with the rest of the mail, directly to the nursery where Francis was hard at work putting the finishing touches on the mural he had started a few weeks ago. He had asked Francis what the mural was supposed to be and was a bit surprised when he told him it was the ocean. The pristine beach scenery was starting to become a bit more fleshed out with the looming red and white light house set along the shore already completed and only a small sail boat drifting along the sun drenched waters left to be completed.
"It will be something different for our babies to look at," Francis had explained. "Not the usual bunny rabbit and teddy bear affair. Of course, I want you to contribute something to the room as well. Perhaps you can knit the babies a blanket."
"Francis, I don't knit, I sew," he had clarified with a roll of his eyes. Of course, he had taken Francis's suggestion to heart and had visited the craft store the next day in order to gather supplies for his little project.
Arthur took a moment to smile at Francis, still sporting his paint stained clothes and wearing his hair pulled back and away from his face. A small part of him was somewhat reluctant to see an end to this painting spree, but Francis was now determined to finish it all within a month so that the room would be completely free from any paint smells before the babies could arrive. Then, of course, a spree of serious baby shopping would begin once all the decorating was complete and Arthur was not looking forward to being dragged from store to store in order to gather supplies for the twins.
"We got an interesting bit of mail today," Arthur announced in order to gain Francis's attention.
"Oh?" he said with a distracted hum, his eyes never leaving the wall in front of him.
"Yes, a package from Alberta it seems."
That was more than enough to grant him Francis's full attention and Arthur had to fight against the urge to snicker as Francis all but spun around in order to stare at the bundle of letters in his hands. "From Bertie?" Francis nearly squeaked as he put down his brush and paints on top of one of the still unopened boxes. "How did she get our address?"
"The agency, I suppose," Arthur reasoned with a shrug as he handed Francis the large letter before putting the rest aside.
"Oh look," Francis crooned happily as he stared at the front of the package. "'To Mr. & Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland.' How cute!"
Arthur rolled his eyes as Francis soon began tearing into the envelope, but had to admit that it was somewhat cute. There was no letter or note waiting for them inside, only a few black and white pictures of what looked to be a couple of large gray blobs.
"It is our babies," Francis swooned. He clutched all three pictures in his hands, flipping through them with mounting glee.
"How can you tell?" Arthur asked skeptically as he plucked one of the images from his hand. Now that he was able to take a moment to stare carefully at the black and white figures, he could clearly see the outlines of the little bodies curled together in such tight quarters. He chuckled softly to himself, because it almost looked as if one twin were sitting on top of the other.
"What do you think they will be?" Francis asked as he looked between all three pictures. "Boys or girls? Or one of each?"
"I don't know," Arthur said honestly, because it was difficult for him to make out anything beyond the little arms, legs, and heads in the blurry pictures. "I don't really see anything that could indicate one way or another."
Francis gave a long hum as he bobbed his head thoughtfully and Arthur could tell in that instant that the same thought that had just drifted through his mind had entered Francis's head. "We have to think of names for the babies," Francis sighed.
"You're right. They'll will be here fairly soon and we can't keep calling them 'the babies' or 'the twins' forever."
"We should make a list," he suggested as he reluctantly put the pictures back into their envelope.
Francis made to put away his paints and supplies just as Arthur went to his den in order to find a pen and pad of notebook paper. He had just retrieved his stationary from within the top drawer of the desk when Francis entered the small room. Francis sat down heavily in the arms of their beaten up old desk chair while Arthur was left to stand over the cluttered writing table.
"Let's start with boy names," Arthur suggested. "That'll be easier."
"No, let us begin with girl names," Francis whined. "That will be more fun."
Arthur gave a heavy sigh as he drew a line down the middle of his pad, effectively dividing the paper between "Boy Names" and "Girl Names." "Fine, I'll humor you," he relented as he tapped his pen thoughtfully against the page. "Well, it's a tradition in my family that we name the first born after a relative." Arthur began as he scribbled a name down on the paper. "What do you think if we name one after my Aunt Gertie?"
Francis visibly grimaced at the suggestion, shuddering as if the name had left a bitter taste on his tongue. "You want to name our daughter 'Gertrude'? Arthur, the baby has not even been born yet. Why do you already hate her?"
"A simple 'no' would suffice," he huffed as he crossed the name off the list and began to write another. "Fine, not Gertrude. What about 'Ophelia'?"
"No," Francis put in flatly. "And that goes for all other Shakespearean heroines you may think of."
Arthur grumbled bitterly to himself as he scratched off yet another name from the notebook. "Well, you've shot down two of my names. How about you make a suggestion that we can ultimately rejected?"
"I think that we should name one of the girls 'Marianne.'"
"After your mother?" Arthur asked with a bitter scoff. "I don't think so."
The two of them went back and forth in that manner for hours. At one point they moved on to male names after realizing that they were going nowhere in terms of naming their daughters. However, they soon began to recognize that coming up with names for their sons were just as difficult.
"This would be so much simpler if Bertie had only told us the sexes," Francis lamented over a takeout box of fried rice. They had taken a short break to order dinner, but even on a full stomach the two found that they could not agree on anything.
"She probably thinks it's more fun this way," Arthur reasoned as he added another packet of soy sauce to his sweet and sour pork. "Gives us a bit of a surprise in the end and all."
"I suppose so, but it is still quite troublesome."
They didn't get much further that night or the next and the list of rejected names continued to grow until they had two whole notebooks filled with dismissed candidates.
--
"I hope that we have girls," Francis sighed.
Arthur tore his eyes away from the newsstand and the row of cigarette cartons on display just above the shelves of newspapers and magazines. He and Francis had quit smoking more than two years ago, somewhere around the time when they had started discussing having children, but even after the hell they had both gone through to kick the habit Arthur still found himself longing for the occasional smoke.
Francis wasn't looking at cigarettes though. His eyes were fixed on a woman who was currently kneeling down on the ground and wiping at the cheeks of girl who could be no more than four years old. The girl was chubby and cute and wore her hair in pigtails.
"Why?" Arthur found himself asking as he gave Francis's fingers a gentle squeeze, a signal for him to keep walking. They had started taking walks around town on Sunday afternoons in place of the matinees that they usually frequented. It was cheaper and the fresh air was better for them, but Arthur had to admit that he missed the luxury of being able to steal a quick snog from Francis during a boring scene or being able to sneak a sip of rum from the flask he would hide in his coat pockets. Those simple pleasures would have to be put aside for now, because two grown men holding hands in public was risky enough.
"Girls are so much cuter," Francis explained as he motioned towards another little girl wearing a frilly pink dress with butterflies clipped to her hair. "It would be so much fun to shop for them."
"I don't want girls," Arthur put in firmly as he tugged Francis towards the park and away from all the shops that he would be tempted to drag them into. "Girls get pregnant. Like that Jones girl."
"That Jones girl is the whole reason we are able to have this conversation," Francis said pointedly.
"Exactly," he shot back. "I can't imagine what her poor father must be going through. And her mother..." He shook his head slowly in the hopes of dispelling the too clear image of Mrs. Jones's sad, fretful face, but it didn't work. "I'd hate to be put through that sort of hell."
"Do you really think that our girls will end up that way just because their mother did?" Francis asked wearily.
"No, I'm just saying that with girls it's trickier. You have to consider these sorts of things."
"Boys may not get pregnant, but they can become young fathers," Francis informed him. "Like that Williams boy, for example."
Arthur hummed as he thought about James Williams. He had never met the boy face to face, but only knew that the adoption agency, as a formality, had asked Alberta to contact him in order to get him to sign away his paternal rights to the babies. From what Arthur had heard, Williams had skipped town soon after Alberta had discovered she was pregnant and was currently living with relatives up north. He certainly wasn't the sort of character he wanted their children to take after.
"Well, that's clearly the result of the boy's poor upbringing," Arthur noted sagely as they strolled past a few couples sitting comfortably in park benches underneath the trees. "Our boys won't be like that."
"And our girls won't be like Bertie."
"No," he sighed unenthusiastically. "They'll be much worse."
"What?" Francis snapped as he came to a halt along the sidewalk, tugging Arthur's hand in order to get him to do the same.
"Oh, come off it Francis, you're no saint," Arthur chided. "I'd heard about your reputation in university long before I met you. You were passed around more dorm rooms than a poorly rolled joint."
"Well I am sorry, but we cannot all be sexually repressed virgins well into our twenties."
"Dammit Francis, I've told you a hundred times I wasn't a virgin when we met!"
"Then why were you so terrible in bed? No one could be that awkward and clumsy unless it was their first time."
Arthur sighed as his eyes began to drift towards the playground only a few paces away from them. Children of all shapes and sizes were there, playing in the sand, climbing along the monkey bars, and giggling as they slipped down the slide. In that moment, he couldn't help wondering just how screwed up any child raised by the two of them would turn out. Between Francis's overly sexualized nature and Arthur's tendency to repress nearly every sentiment that wasn't bathed in sarcasm, it would be a miracle if their twins didn't end up a pair of complete emotional wrecks.
Francis must have followed his gaze, because in the silence that fell upon the two of them, he took a moment to give Arthur's fingers a gentle sort of squeeze. "Do not think about it," Francis instructed knowingly and his calm words only helped to cause Arthur's thoughts to come to a grinding stop.
"What?" he asked as he turned to stare at him.
"I know where your mind is going right now," Francis sighed as he tugged Arthur's hand and once again began walking across the park. "So stop your bleak pondering right now."
Arthur didn't say anything to that, because the last thing he wanted was to prove Francis right. He walked on, all the while stealing glances towards the playground and listening as the excited squeals and eager laughs began to fade away into the distance.
"I suppose it doesn't matter if we have boys or girls," Arthur reasoned after a few minutes of silence.
Francis smiled in approval at the thought as he gave Arthur's shoulder a comforting pat.
"But I'd still like to have boys."
"I would still prefer girls," Francis put in.
He hummed thoughtfully at that. "Perhaps they'll be one of each."
"Yes, let us hope for that."
--
"Here's a picture of Artie from when he was wee," Mummy announced as she pulled out a small, yellowing photograph from within her purse.
"Mummy," Arthur groaned, a near growl curling from his lips as he glared pointedly at his mother. If they weren't currently sitting at a table in the middle of a crowded restaurant he would have done more to stop his mother from handing the picture over to Francis, but as it was he could only sit back and silently seethe in disapproval.
"Oh, how cute!" Francis crooned as he gazed at the still glossy image of Arthur's infant self crawling around in bunny pajamas.
"Mon Dieu!" Madame Bonnefoy gasped, her eyes widening in alarm at the very sight before her. "Have you ever seen such a bushy browed babe?"
"It's a family trait," Mummy sighed wearily as she touched a slightly self conscious finger to her own heavy eyebrows.
"Well it suits him," Francis said, smiling down at the picture even as Arthur made to snatch the photo out of his hands. "I can keep this one, yes?"
Mummy offered him a small smile as she waved her hand in agreement. Francis beamed as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and tucked the picture inside. Arthur made a mental note of its location and swore to tear it up the first chance he got.
Madame Bonnefoy gave a soft sort of sigh as she straightened in her chair and smoothed out the folds in her skirt. "Well now, have you two gotten everything ready for the babies?" she asked as she raised her near empty glass, motioning for it to be refilled.
"Almost Madame," Arthur informed her as he grabbed the bottle of wine from the edge of the table in order to top off her glass with the burgundy liquid.
"Madame Bonnefoy," she noted in a sharpened, yet soft, tone and Arthur caught the way his own mother's eyes narrowed at the other woman's remark.
"We have just finished painting the nursery," Francis said proudly as he raised his glass in self satisfaction.
"And put together most of the furniture," Arthur put in.
The two women took a moment to give a chorused tsk before shaking their heads and sipping from their glasses. Arthur had to marvel at the two of them. On most days they couldn't stand to be in the same room as one another without hissing, yet when their sons were concerned they couldn't be more like minded.
"We said we were almost done," Arthur said with an already defeated sigh, because he knew, as always, that their mothers had an answer for him.
"'Almost' and 'mostly' are not good enough when preparing for a baby," Mummy chided gently as she placed her glass down next to her half empty dish of roast beef and seasoned vegetables. She clucked her tongue as she lifted her fork to nudge her food about the plate. "And in this case, there are two babies to make ready for."
"The second of July is just around the corner," Madame Bonnefoy noted in a sing songed sort of tone. She always became a bit musical when she was feeling tipsy. "Two weeks away at that. You two do need to start getting yourselves in order. Have you even determined what to call the little ones?"
A heavy groan escaped from both Arthur and Francis at the reminder of that particular subject. Weeks had passed since the two had begun to work on picking names for the twins and they hadn't made any great strides towards anything they could agree on.
Their mothers seemed to recognize the synchronized moans of displeasure and gave one another a secretive sort of smile in response, as if the two had been waiting for the moment when they could share this sort of agony with their children.
"Well, have you at least given any thought to who will be watching the babies after both of you have gone back to work?" Mummy asked them as she gave her eyebrows a very pointed arch.
"Of course we would be more than happy to have you watch the twins," Arthur told her automatically, before adding, "that is, if you were willing to, Mummy."
Mummy was practically preening at that and her eyes were all but glowing as a smug smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "I would love to," she beamed as she sent her gaze towards Madame Bonnefoy as if to silently say "I win."
"What about me?" Madame Bonnefoy nearly pouted as she placed her wine glass down without as much as a soft clank. "I could watch the children for you."
"We would ask you Maman, but you live so far away," Francis clarified.
"Besides, we don't want the grand babies slipping from those slimy frog fingers of yours," Mummy snipped as she took a slow sip from her glass.
Arthur watched as Madame Bonnefoy's eyes widened before narrowing to fiery little slits. "Better than having them raised on your bland cooking," she returned. "If we are not careful, those poor babies may actually end up choking on those charred couch cushions you call scones."
"That is if they aren't first suffocated by that expensive toilet water you bathe yourself in!"
"You withered old hag!"
"Washed up tramp!"
"Ladies, ladies!" Arthur chided as he placed a firm hand over his mother's wrist, and used his other to move the steak knife out of her grasp.
"Maman, do not quarrel with Mrs. Kirkland," Francis chided as he gave her balled fists a few gentle pats until her spidery fingers began to uncurl. "You are more than welcomed to watch the children whenever you are in town."
"Well, then I want to stay with the two of you after the babies are born," Madame Bonnefoy put in stubbornly. Her eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a challenging sort of way that made Arthur's stomach tighten and his skin go pale. "I will stay and help with my grandbabies for the first week that they are home."
"Madame Bonnefoy," Arthur began as he clutched his glass with trembling fingers, "that's a very generous offer, but... but our house is so small."
"Your couch pulls out into a bed, does it not?" she put in quickly.
"Well, yes, but..."
"So I am sure that you and Francis will be comfortable there while I take your bedroom."
Arthur felt his throat tighten as his gaze shifted towards Francis in hopes that he would offer some form of support.
"Oh Maman," Francis began with a gentle sigh. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
Arthur managed to conceal the groan building in his throat by downing the last of his wine.
--
"Bunny rabbit and teddy bear," Francis tsked. At least, he attempted to, but the smile curling his lips made the act more than a bit difficult. Of course, the sight of Arthur cradling a homemade stuffed doll in each hand didn't serve to help matters either. Francis let out a full chuckle as he plucked the fuzzy white bear from Arthur's hands, caressing the soft fur with the pad of his thumb. The eyes hadn't come out exactly how Arthur had hoped, but he supposed the tiny black buttons served their purpose well. "You did this just to annoy me."
"Well, I suppose you can say that your words helped to inspire the creative process," Arthur teased as he gently tugged at the floppy brown ears of the white rabbit doll in his grasp. "I do think that our children will enjoy the usual 'bunny rabbit and teddy bear' affair."
Francis smiled and tossed the bear a few inches in the air before catching it and giving the well stuffed middle a gentle squeeze. "They will do," he agreed before placing the doll down on the far left corner of the crib.
Arthur had to admit that the white polar bear looked a bit strange resting on top of the powder blue sheets with their sail boat pattern. Of course, that didn't stop him from resting the white rabbit against the tiny pillows covered with the friendly blue whales decorating their plush surfaces. He smiled at the sight, looking between the two hand stitched toys resting in the crib that had for weeks remained unoccupied. It was nice to see them sitting there. It almost made the image of their soon to be born children sleeping soundly on the soft mattress that much clearer.
"They are almost here," Francis noted as he traced his fingers along the polished bars of the crib. "July second is just around the corner."
"This might be one of the last times our house is this calm and quiet," Arthur put in with a heavy sigh. "In a few days the babies will be here, your mother will be here..."
"I will miss it being just the two of us," Francis said truthfully, "but it will be so nice to have the house so full."
He nodded in agreement, because he knew that he would miss all the little things that went along with being a child free couple. Arthur knew that he would miss the freedom of being able to make love with the bedroom door open or in the kitchen or on the living room couch without the fear of someone walking in or overhearing. He would also miss the ability to have a beer with dinner without worrying over whether or not he was setting a bad example. More than anything, he would (secretly) miss the sight of Francis wandering around the house on lazy Saturday mornings wearing nothing but his bedroom slippers.
Of course, trading it all for the sound of little voices giggling in delight or the sight of tiny feet padding along the floors was an easy choice. Arthur smiled as he glanced at the nursery that was, after so very long, now filled with clothes, toys, and enough diapers to supply preschool for over a month. For the first time in ages, Arthur felt safe in saying that he was prepared for the arrival of their babies.
"We should go somewhere," he suggested as he gently tapped at Francis's shoulder. "After all, tomorrow night will be our last night as a childless couple. It's only right that we do something special."
"Can we go to that wonderful little bistro that opened downtown?" Francis gasped gleefully.
Arthur chuckled at the way Francis's eyes lit up as he began bouncing on the heels of his feet. "Fine. I suppose so."
Part 4