Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Lars

Whose bloody bright idea was it to have kids? I thought as I ran downstairs, but of course I knew. We'd all thought it was the way to go, but to be fair, when my mate was panting, in heat, I was thinking with a whole other head. Now the big one was left to try and work out a way through this. Never a-fucking again, that was for sure, I promised as I strode into the living room. I couldn't. We couldn't. Nat was fading away by the day, her skin always bruised and papery thin. My girl… the babies seemed to be sucking the marrow from her bones.

"What's happening?" Mum appeared in my path. "What are you doing down here? Is Natalie sleeping? She should be sleeping with the babies."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," I replied.

"Easier said than done with twins." Meryl's grimace told me everything I needed to know. She'd managed to raise Koda and Thorn without killing them, which made her a superhero in my book. "One wakes the other and then they both start up." A thin cry from upstairs had us all looking upwards. "I did try to warn… I mean, prepare, Natalie."

"And she didn't listen?" Holly's voice was sharp as a razor's, and her eyes cut into each one of us. Not for the first time did I wonder if she had some fox shifter in her. She had the same kind of squirrely energy. "Shocker. Look, here's the dealio with my bestie. She thinks she needs to do everything herself." She ticked off one finger. "She never asks for help. God only knows how long Fuckface was treating her like shit before she decided to leave him."

"Should we be using that kind of language when there's children in the house?" Jane asked.

"Pretty sure they're too little to learn swear words right now, and while they seem to have preternaturally strong hearing, they won't be able to make sense of what's being said," Holly continued. "Nat's also really good with martyrdom." Her eyes narrowed as she focussed on me. "She'll have some story in her head about protecting you lot."

"Work." I bit that word off. "She thinks she has to do everything because we work with tools all day, but even on the weekends, she refuses to take a break." I began to pace, unable to stand still while I discussed this. "She hasn't slept properly in months."

"You must take time off, Lars." Mum appeared in front of me with a frown. "Your mate needs you."

"I know." My feet slowed and so did my tongue. Perhaps because my whole throat was closing up. "I know, Mum, but I don't know how to help her. If we try to take the babies, she gets upset, but she also cries when she has them. She looks so tired, but she's always doing things. We only just talked her out of continuing her studies, deferring for now. It's like she doesn't know how to stop." I glanced at each one of them hoping the fuck they knew what to do, because I didn't. Perhaps it was some kind of secret only women understood. "And I don't know how to make her."

"Pumping," Mum said, looking at the other ladies.

"And perhaps supplemental feeds of formula," Jane suggested.

"She seems to think that formula is the devil's work," I said.

"The babies are four months old," Meryl said. "It's been amazing that she's been able to exclusively breastfeed until now, but fed is best."

"The supplemental feeds could be breast milk if she finds pumping works for her," Mum added.

"I've got some of those antihistamines that knock you out, leave you a drooling mess," Holly said, holding up a pharmacy bag.

"You're not giving babies them," I growled.

"Not for them, dipshit," Holly said. "For Nat. She needs to sleep, but more than that, she needs to see that sleeping isn't for the weak. If she gets a good night's sleep, she'll be better able to cope with the kidlets when they scream, because damn…"

I wondered what the fuck the twins were up to because the babies started to cry again.

"Colic," one mother said.

"Gas. They need to be properly burped."

"Swaddled tight."

"Not too tight."

"Put outside in their prams. It's what we do at home, even in the middle of winter." Everyone looked at Mum. "What? Whole generations of Norwegians have done this, and no one can accuse us of not being strong."

"OK, let's find solutions that won't have CPS being called on us," I said before facing the lot of them. "Talk to me, please." That last bit felt tacked on, but I admit I was never great at social graces, and being on edge just made that worse. "I've been reading baby books, but they're all focussed on the one kid and basically tell us to see a paed."

"Have you taken the children to a paediatrician?" Jane asked carefully.

"We're on the waitlist for one, but we have been since before the kids were born." My feet started moving again. "There's not enough fucking specialists in this town to meet people's needs. I will throw money, big money, at anyone who can help us."

A hand went to my arm, stopping me in my tracks, and I looked up to find Meryl there.

"Babies are hard. Twins are even harder. You're all doing the best you can, but…" She shot me a familiar smile, but it was a whole lot prettier on her face than Thorn's. "Sometimes it takes a village to raise a child. We are your village. Let's put some tea on and discuss a plan of attack."

Gods, yes, that.

I was a tough bloke. I'd gone toe-to-toe with some mad fuckers on building sites who seemed to need to prove who had the biggest balls before they could settle down and work. Hell, I'd dealt with Nat's crazy ex, but who knew my own children would be the biggest hurdle? I sucked in one breath, then another, Mum shooting me an empathetic look before I strode into the kitchen.

Turn the kettle on, get the coffee cups out, find the tea bags and the sugar, these were all things I knew how to do. I grabbed at that tiny feeling of competence because I knew it wouldn't last. Then as the kettle boiled, my fingers gripped the edge of the counter, the laminate creaking in protest. If I kept going, I'd crack it, and then we'd be forced to redo all of the countertops, but I couldn't seem to stop. I just couldn't.

Because somehow in the process of getting every damn thing I'd ever wanted, it all went to shit and I had no fucking idea what to do about it.

The kettle boiled and I poured the hot water into the teapot, then put everything on a tray, even finding some biscuits in the back of the fridge before I walked back out into the dining room.

"Hit me with it, ladies," I said as I set the tray down. "Gimme every bit of advice you've got, and don't worry about holding back." I sank down into a seat. "I can take it, because…" I glanced upstairs, almost able to see the three people I loved most in the world through the floorboards. "I can't take this anymore."

"Admitting that is the first step, son," Mum said, giving my arm a squeeze. "Now, let's work this out together."