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Andrew lazed across the couch, Neil’s head on his lap. He lulled himself into a half-sleep, the feeling of Neil’s silky soft hair in his hands pulling them both down into a deep relaxation. Before long, however, they heard voices outside, the tell-tale pitter patter of little feet racing up the drive. Andrew was instantly up, more than excited to see his nieces even if it had only been a few days. They lived a few doors down but had gone to stay with Katelyn’s parents over the weekend, and Andrew had missed them sorely. He all but shoved his husband off him, and Neil laughed fondly while rolling to his feet.
Andrew raced to the door, launching himself forward on his forearm crutches faster than Neil could walk, choosing to mostly bypass putting his feet on the ground. He stopped by the door, a grinning Neil behind him, and jabbed a finger at his husband, not bothering to hide his own returning smirk before catching his breath and speaking.
“Not a word, Neil. Not. A. Word.”
Neil gave him a fond look and reached around him to open the door to their visitors. The 5 year old twins barrelled into Andrew, about climbing up his legs until he was leaning against the wall and holding them both comfortably. Before long they wriggled away, seeing the immediately more interesting play-thing in the form of a cat disappearing around the corner.
“Girls, be nice to the kitty!” shouted Katelyn before turning back around to chat with Neil. They had been fast friends once they’d finally spoken sometime in Neil’s junior year, a friendship that baffled and delighted both of their husbands in turn. Andrew leaned one of his forearm crutches against the wall, not really needing both in the house now that his race to the door was finished and his family was inside. He reached over to Aaron, pulling him close.
“How was the trip?” Neil asked, prompting Aaron to look up and tease Katelyn about an awkward interaction that they’d had at a roadside stand in the mountains on the way back.
Andrew was suddenly struck by how normal this all seemed, how normal it all was regardless of their histories. Brothers, hugging, reaching over toys and bags and sticky little hands for a brief moment of contact amidst the chaos, their affection demanding to be felt without seeking out the eye of the storm first to hide away in. Being invited; being welcomed. Bags being tossed aside, baby carrier gingerly placed down with the newest addition to the family safely tucked inside as peeling laughter cracked through the room, hanging in the air long after little feet outran it. Andrew supposed this was normal. He knew his family had a particularly complex backstory, but it was only as an adult did he realise that everyone harboured trauma in one way or another, and everyone went on making their own normal regardless.
Abruptly realising he was alone by the front door still, Andrew made his way towards the living room, catching Neil’s concerned eye and nodding to the question he found there.
“Oh brother of mine! Wherever might your children be? I have surprises for them.”
The twins squealed , alarmingly in sync as usual in a way that made Andrew’s heart hurt, just a bit. Both of the brothers had grown so much since the twins were born, and Andrew knew it was because parenting - and well, guncle-ing these girls - felt almost like parenting the broken and scared lonely little boys each of them still harboured inside their own hearts. They had never gotten the chance to be so quintessentially twins in the way Clover and Lily were, with their near telepathy, and both brothers felt the grief of that lost childhood sorely in seeing the next generation of Minyard twins have such easy communication.
Andrew looked around, feigning that he couldn’t see the girls with all the drama he could muster, leaning on his forearm crutch while bringing the other hand up above his eyes in a searching gesture.
“I think I hear something, but I don’t see anyone…I guess I’ll have to keep all of these presents to myself.”
Clover and Lily stared at each other, having a conversation without words that could’ve been anything from I think he’s fibbing, is he fibbing? He must be able to see us to on the count of 3, you distract them while I steal the cats or something equally cunning in the minds of a five year old. They decided on something quickly, both nodding simultaneously in the exact same fashion. Aaron groaned as he saw Lily grab Andrew’s free hand, pulling him forward while Clover attempted to push him from behind.
“Really, Andrew? We were gone for like, four days. Why did you get them presents, again?” Andrew shot his brother a disgusted look, not gracing him with a reply. Neil laughed at Andrew’s antics, patting Aaron somewhat apologetically on the shoulder, though he looked more smug than anything else. “Sorry Minyard, you really should be used to him spoiling them rotten by now.”
“Do you call Andrew that?” Aaron griped - it was widely known he had taken it upon himself when he’d entered med school to lose what he deemed “Jock speak” and stop calling people by their last names.
“Of course not!” Neil feigned horror, “I call him Minyard-Josten!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Aaron muttered, turning red when a resounding “LANGUAGE!” boomed from down the hallway where Andrew stood. He got up and followed the voice, complaining under his breath about “super-hearing.” He stopped short as he reached the doorway. The Minyard-Josten residence had 2 guest bedrooms, the second of which usually housed two twin beds for the girls and was a glorified playroom. Today, though, it looked different.
Andrew lounged in a purple armchair next to the bookshelf holding all of their favourite story tales - and oh, there were many. The bookshelf had been there since the girls were born - but the rest of the room had transformed over the last 4 days. Instead of where two twin beds once stood against opposite walls, a beautiful oak bunk bed stood in the corner, fairy lights on the ceiling and the underside of the top bunk. A soft tulle-looking fabric surrounded the bed, a canopy of sorts. Each mattress had plush looking sheet sets, one decorated with Beatrix Potter characters and one with flower faeries. The girls were racing up and down the ladder, a sturdy thing with railings on both sides for safety (and ease of access for Andrew if he needed to get to the top bunk for anything). The large window seat had some new stuffed animals on it, along with Goodnight Moon resting on a pillow. Across the room, an elegant cradle had been set up, matching the oak of the bunkbed, with what looked like a handmade mobile above it for the baby. The back wall was painted with chalkboard paint, a big “Welcome, kiddos!” with a sloppily drawn heart in Neil’s handwriting scrawled across the center. Their toys were on a new shelf, made of 12 cubbies that Aaron dimly recognised from Ikea the last time he’d been there. It was painted in alternating deep green and purple, the girl’s favourite colours. It somehow managed to look decent, despite the odd colour combination.
“Oh, Andrew, this is -”
“Don’t,” Andrew cut in, quietly. “They deserve this.”
Aaron fell silent, knowing what Andrew hadn’t said. We deserved this. I want you to have this. I want them to have this and more, because we didn’t. This is as much for us as it is for them. He padded over to his brother - his twin, his protector, his best friend. He settled in on the floor at his feet, and after a quick glance with Andrew’s responding nod, leaned back against his shins to watch the girls explore.
“Thank you,” he whispered, meaning more than just that. Andrew got it. He always did.