The blue vinyl folder sat on the rolling overbed table, right beside my plastic cup of melting ice chips. Julian adjusted the heavy gold bezel of his watch and did not look at the twin bassinet in the corner of Room 314.
My fingers tapped the white plastic armrest of the hospital chair, one, two, three, four, in a slow, even rhythm. The twins had been born exactly thirty-eight hours ago, at 11:14 p.m. on Tuesday, weighing five pounds six ounces and four pounds nine ounces.
Julian paced the narrow path between my bed and the window overlooking the St. David’s Hospital parking lot.
“We need to discuss their names and their future before the discharge nurse arrives,” he said, his voice fast and dry.
“We decided on Leo and Oliver three months ago,” I said, adjusting the thin cotton tie of my blue hospital gown.
He did not stop pacing, his leather loafers squeaking against the polished linoleum. “My mother wants to ensure the family legacy is secure, Clara, and we have to be practical about the logistics.”
A week before the contractions started, I had stood in the quiet lobby of Vance Enterprises at four in the afternoon to pick up my personal tax documents.
The receptionist, a young woman named Brenda who had worked there for three years, handed me a thick manila envelope.
“This came for you, Mrs. Vance, but it was sorted into the corporate ledger pile by mistake,” Brenda said.
Inside the envelope was a misdirected statement from a private wealth firm in Dallas, showing a cash transfer of forty-two thousand dollars to an account I had never heard of.
I tapped my thumb against the reception desk, counting the digits on the routing number.
“Is there another delivery coming today?” I asked.
Brenda looked down at her computer screen. “Just the courier from the title company.”
Three nights ago, in our kitchen with the dark granite countertops, I had tried to ask Julian about the Dallas transfer.
He stood by the refrigerator, pouring tap water into a tall glass, keeping his back to me.
“It’s just an internal restructuring for tax season,” he said, his shoulder stiffening.
