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THE TWINS WEREfirmly in their tweens and filled with opinions about what was cool and what was boring and whether the other one had correctly relayed a story or not. Their visits were always a busy week of laughter and beachcombing, playing in the pool and staying up past bedtime to finish a movie.
Which made sending them back to Grettina a relief, but a poignant one. Grettina had taken up painting so she always went on a retreat when the twins were in Athens. She would send snapshots of still lifes and landscapes and always looked rested and pleased if eager to reunite with her children. They lived near Geneva these days. Beate was in Austria and Elijah was the only one who had contact with their father and only intermittently.
As they reentered the quiet penthouse, melancholy descended over Stella.
“I love them, but I love having you to myself again,” Atlas said as he brought her a glass of white wine.
“Oh.” Her heart took a small dip.
“What? You weren’t going to work, were you?”
They had both taken the week off so she definitely had a thousand emails waiting for her, but that wasn’t it.
“I was going to say something, but now…” She looked into the wine. “Maybe not.”
“What?” he prompted.
“I was going to say they’re growing up so fast. They both asked me if we were going to have a baby and I thought maybe that’s something we should talk about?”
“I was waiting until our anniversary next month,” Atlas said. “As per our contract.”
“Oh.” She started to bring her glass to her smiling lips, paused. “What if I went off the pill and we just see what happens?”
“Let’s definitely see what happens.” He took their drinks and set them aside.
“I took one this morning,” she reminded him. “There’s no point startingnow.”
“Rehearsals improve the odds of success.” He backed her toward the bedroom. “Or so I’ve heard.”
It didn’t take much work at all. The timing didn’t work the first month and she had a horrible cold the second month, interrupting their best intentions. Three months later, however, she was checking with her staff at the inn when she realized her period was late.
She did a test, then hurried to Athens, rushing into Atlas’s office at the top of the DVE building.
“Stella.” He stood up as she burst in. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m late!” She ran around his desk and threw herself into his arms. “I did a test. I’m pregnant!”
“What?” He caught her, laughing, arms tight and heart hammering against her own. “Really?”
From the speakerphone, she heard Carmel’s voice. “Ugh. Now I have to learn how to be nice tochildren? The things I do for you people.”
“Carmel’s on the phone,” Atlas said with irony as he let Stella’s feet touch the floor. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow,” he told his sister, reaching for the button.
“Fine. Congratulations, I guess,” Carmel said, but she sounded more indulgent than sarcastic. “I hope you’re very happy.”
“Thank you.” He hung up and scooped his arms around Stella again. “You’re sure?”
“That I’m pregnant? Or that I’m happy?Both.”
“Both” turned out to be a prophetic word. They welcomed twins the following spring. They were all very happy.
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