Chapter 6 - The Elevator Doors
Just then footsteps came quick down the hall toward us.
I looked up and saw the doctor coming.
Something in his face said he was carrying news I wasn't ready for.
I got to my feet and braced a hand on the wall.
He stopped a few feet short of us and looked back and forth between Nate and me.
Before he could get a word out, the elevator chimed.
My parents stepped off, coats folded neat over their arms.
They saw us right away and came over.
"How is she?" my mother asked.
"Sadie is stable," the doctor said. "Both babies are breathing on their own."
A sob broke out of me and I grabbed Nate's sleeve.
He was already crying, tears sliding silent down his face.
"She made it," I whispered. "She made it, Nate."
"Oh, thank God."
My mother stepped in close, arms opening for a hug.
And every bit of the anger came straight up to the surface.
I stepped back.
"Don't touch me. Not after what you did."
"What I did?" She frowned. "Honey, what are you talking about?"
I held up the contract.
The color went out of both their faces at once.
"You were going to ship her off!"
"You don't understand what we were trying to—"
"I understand it perfectly. And you are not going to walk into that recovery room and act like you love her. Not today. Not ever."
"Of course we love her," my father snapped. "That is exactly why we did this."
"He's the one who took money to marry her." My mother's finger jabbed toward Nate. "You can't be furious with us and give him a pass."
"You signed a paper to get rid of her," I said. "He signed one to protect her. Those are not the same thing, and you know it."
Voices had started leaking into the hallway.
A couple of nurses. Two women from the maternity waiting room. A hospital volunteer who'd given up pretending to read her clipboard.
My mother's eyes went around the hall.
She finally understood that people had heard all of it.
"This is not the place for this," she hissed.
"No," I said. "The place was three years ago, in our kitchen, when you decided my sister was a problem you needed to solve."
Nobody in that hallway moved.
Every face was pointed at the two of them.
My mother looked away first.
They didn't say another word. They walked to the elevator and got on.
The hall felt ten pounds lighter the second those doors slid shut.
Nate touched my elbow, careful, unsure.
"I'm sorry I kept it from you."
"You kept her safe. Nothing else matters right now."
A nurse leaned out of a doorway and smiled.
"She's asking for both of you."
I threaded my fingers through Nate's — the brother I almost threw away over two minutes of ugly thinking.
We walked into the room where Sadie was waiting with two tiny bundles and a worn-out, shining smile.
Three weeks later, my parents stepped down as trustees of Sadie's share of the family trust.
Our lawyer said plainly that the agreement would never hold up if anyone outside the family ever saw it.
My aunt took over as trustee instead.
Word moved through the family faster than either of them expected.
The invitations stopped coming.
Their excuses stopped getting accepted.
For the first time in their lives, they had to stand there and be seen the exact way they'd always let the world see Sadie.
At the twins' dedication a few months later, my uncle lifted his glass.
"Some men turn into husbands," he said. "Nate turned into a shield."
The whole room broke into applause.
May you like
I looked over at my brother-in-law, one baby tucked against his chest while Sadie held the other.
And I knew our real family was just getting started.
