75 Godiva Street | Late Morning

[knife_bender]

It had been a long and sleepless, but satisfying, 4 weeks with the twins at home. They were turning a month old on Friday, and Annie and Diego finally decided it was time for them to be introduced to the rest of the world. Diego would miss their little family bubble they had for a month, but he had to admit he was looking forward to talking to adults again.

They had sent texts out to various people inviting them over if they so wished (he was not about to force people to see his children), and ordered a pizza now that they were done with the healthy food Donna had supplied them with. The twins were dressed in cute outfits that they probably wouldn't put up with a couple months from now.

Of course Maggie immediately spit up on her little dress but he figured people were gonna have to get used to that like he had over the last couple weeks.

[Open post, if you think you got a text you did]

Comments

[defenderofdesmoines]

"His sister also doesn't look all that much like a raisin anymore," Annie shared proudly, stepping aside and ushering Summer in with her free arm. "And thank you! Here, come in, we can set down our stuff and-or babies and I can, like, hug you. Also, hi, what's new with you? This is my whole life now, I'm so out of the loop."

That gesturing arm was now gesturing to the house as a whole -- the babies, her husband, her ruined body, these however-many square feet that she spent her entire life in, now. It wasn't a complaint so much as a -- like, Annie felt she should be forgiven for not being wholly up on radio or whatever.

[somethingwithturquoise]

'Ruined.' Yeah, okay, Annie.

But Summer was already looking for a place to set down her things for that suggested hug, all the while sending a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head over at Annie. "I mean," she said, "you haven't missed much, there really isn't a whole lot going on..."

Which she sounded fine about! Really! She absolutely was not feeling any sort of frequent itches that she tended to feel whenever her life had fallen into a sort of rote rhythm of regularity or anything, honest!

"Thansgiving was cool?" she offered. "I don't know, I just feel like lately, everyone else is getting way more attention and better plotlines."

She wasn't used to not being the loudest character in someone's head!

"Like, I didn't even get in on the Walmart raid thing."

So unfair!

[defenderofdesmoines]

"Okay, that I at least know about," Annie noted, a little curious about how quiet things seemed for Summer. "Not that I could participate either, exactly, but it was kinda hard not to notice how all of a sudden I could Uber Eats anything I wanted."

Kinda hard not to take advantage of it all, too, as a heavily pregnant woman.

"But like, bar is good? Jello is good?" she checked, bouncing Ben a little. "Your family didn't do anything psychotic at you for Thanksgiving?"

[somethingwithturquoise]

"I very intentionally avoided all things family this Thanksgiving," Summer was proud to report, "thank god. Blasted Dr. Lecter's dinner party all over my socials to prove it to them that I was busy, thank you, you probably noticed, so if there were ancient alien turkeys, I got to miss out on the memo on that. Bar's good; jello's good, started branching out to ~Featured Cocktails~ now, to sort of, you know, diversify and prove that I'm more than just jello, you know? And, if you get a spare moment or just want to dump both babies on Diego now that he's got two functioning hands again, I've gotten pretty good at mixing them virgin. You know, if you're doing the whole breastfeeding thing like the total supermom you are."

[defenderofdesmoines]

"I am," Annie told her on a sigh, because ruined. body., Summer. Ruined. Doomed to never bounce back, here at the age of nearly-26. "But that actually sounds kind of fun. And like, way to branch out from jello, too -- that's got to be kind of...tiring, after awhile."

She actually suspected it was more limiting than tiring, sometimes, with the heavy burden of expectation contributing, so the whole featured cocktails thing was getting her full-throated support.

"You so don't have to," she added, shifting Ben a little to an arm, "but do you want to hold one of the kids?"

No hard feelings if not -- they were still in the breakable, squishy, what-does-it-even-do phase, after all.

[somethingwithturquoise]

"With the caveat that I can hand him back immediately if I change my mind," said Summer, eyes brightening a little as she held out her hands, "then yes, please. Possibly with the request for a pic, but I swear, the moment he makes a face that looks like he might be pooping, I'm out. I require at least an hour of knowing someone before agreeing to put up with that."

[defenderofdesmoines]

"I've gotten pretty good at identifying that particular face, so I'll keep an eye out," Annie promised, gently handing Ben over. "Just make sure to support his head. He's super bad at that, so far."

Which, like. Weird. Get on that, month-old baby.

[somethingwithturquoise]

Seriously, month-old baby, way to, like, totally slack off.

Kids these days, eesh.

The reminder was a good one, too, so great mommy instincts there, Annie, as Summer carefully, cautiously took Ben and adjusted almost immediately on the suggestion, resulting in a little bit of an awkward cradle with her hand behind his head gently.

"Awww," she said, beaming down at the little guy with a tenderness that still somehow managed to be reflected in the words that followed, "I swear to god, if you spit up on this shirt, I am holding it against you for the rest of your life."

[defenderofdesmoines]

"We're prepared for that around here," Annie assured her, producing a towel that she expertly laid across Summer's shoulder in the direct path of any would-be spit-up. And no sooner was that taken care of than did Annie actually allow herself to enjoy the moment, and how amazing it was to see her best friend holding her son. "And you're doing great. He totally loves you."

He at least didn't hate her, given that he was contentedly gurgling up at Summer now and showing no signs of screaming and/or pooping.

[somethingwithturquoise]

That was a good sign, and probably a whole lot better than she would have gotten from her actual nephew, but, in Morty Jr.'s defense, he was half-Gazorpian.

"Either that," Summer pointed out, again, with the somewhat sarcastic words that absolutely did not align with the look on her face as she held up a finger to Ben's tiny, tiny, impossibly tiny little hand, "or it's just gas. Arguably, that's probably not much different from love."

But then she looked back over at Annie with a big smile and all that sarcasm just seemed to leave her body as she gushed out, "I love him, too."

And then ruined it by following it up with, "I can't believe this guy was in you for, like, nine months."

Babies. Were. Weird.

But also kind of amazing?

[defenderofdesmoines]

"Along with his sister," Annie pointed out, eyes widening because, like, Summer, you did not want the stories about how they got out. "Like, it was so crowded in my body."

And it was weirdly sort of uncrowded now in a way she was still adjusting to, along with everything else. Like, kind of a good thing she had two babies to look after as a distraction.

"I think they both look like Diego." As much as they looked like anyone, anyway. But she was also half-wrong, because they both also totally looked like Annie. (At least as much as they supposedly looked like Diego, anyway.)

[somethingwithturquoise]

Annie, you were absolutely right, Summer did not want to hear those stories, at all.

She would listen to them, if they came up, because that's how much she loved you, Annie, but she would not enjoy it.

Well, except maybe getting to hear about Diego's crushed hand again. Talk about the highlight!

"Naaaaah," said Summer, shaking her head, looking at Ben thoughtfully for a moment, "I definitely see some of you in there, too. But, like, also, he just looks....like a baby, too. And, I mean, I know your face better, too, so...."

[defenderofdesmoines]

"Future Maggie -- if Fandom futures can be trusted -- has my hair," Annie shared, reaching over to gently run a thumb over Ben's little head. "I think she might dye it, but that's something, at least."

Also, they both looked a lot more like their parents and less like -- let's face it -- dried fruit, as teenagers.

And Ben, for his part, decided that that finger of Summer's looked like it needed grabbing, so he'd be taking care of that promptly, thank you.