August Durand was born at 11:56pm on July thirty-first, only four minutes shy of her namesake. Her mother decided on the middle name Sarah, and her father decided that he’d never witnessed anything as formidable as his wife-to-be during labour. It was a short but intense delivery—having barely made it to the hospital in time—but they held hands through it all and welcomed their daughter with tears streaking down their smile-risen cheeks. As a matter of fact, the new parents cried far more than little August as the nurses placed her across her mother’s chest for the very first time. They lay side by side, curled around one another inside the narrow hospital bed, and looked down at their daughter with awe—completely enraptured by every perfect piece of her. Her cute, if a little purple, feet. Her tiny, adorable hands that they couldn’t stop reaching for. Her bald head and dark eyes, leaving them guessing at who she’ll most resemble. They speculated aloud to one another in those first few moments that no baby had been or will ever be as wise as August. They watched her as she seemingly took in her surroundings, her eyes opened wide and surprisingly aware as she lifted her head with muscles that shocked even the nurses. She’s smart like her father, her mother said quietly. She’s strong like her mother, her father said loudly to anyone who would listen. We love you, they whispered to her over and over and over again. Thank you, her father added, kissing her mother. I did it, her mother whispered, kissing him back.
EPILOGUE
Ten Years Later
“Gus!” I shout, tripping over her purple Converse on my way through the door. “Your shoes… again!”
Charlie, our five-year-old, comes bounding over as soon as I step inside. I kick the shoes out of the way to shut the door with my hip and drop my suitcase.
“Want some help?” she asks, holding out two hands. I smile at her, scrunching my nose as she does the same. She’s got freckles just like her father and older sister do. Sometimes I want to paint them on myself before I leave the house just so I can match them all. Joey, our two-year-old, looks more like me with her black hair and blue eyes and no freckles yet. And her drooling and affinity for poop jokes, as Bo likes to point out.
“Hi, baby. Thank you.” I drop the brown paper bag filled with groceries into Charlie’s arms, and she nearly collapses under the weight of it. “You sure you got that? Is Dad—”
“Here!” Bo says, appearing in the living room with Joey glued to his hip as always. She’s got a wide-spread smile slathered with chocolate icing, and Bo’s got flour all over his navy sweater and trousers. “We got a bit delayed. The girls wanted to help me make you a welcome home cake, but then Joey was the only one who stuck it out. None of them are in their costumes yet, and August, apparently, doesn’t want to be a pirate this year. So now the cake is still baking, and no one is dressed on time to leave, and I’m not even sure where—”
I go on my toes to kiss him, cupping his face with my hand to pull him the rest of the way down toward me. “Happy anniversary, darling.” I pat his cheek, searching his eyes until he takes a much-needed breath. “I missed you.”
Bo settles, his chest falling. “Hi, honey. Sorry.” He bends down, kissing me again. “How was your trip? We missed you too. I missed you.”
“Mama home!” Joey says, her messy hands reaching for me. I take her, kissing all over her face as she squeals. Bo comes behind me and tucks my hair out of the way so she at least doesn’t get that part of me covered in chocolate icing. We don’t have time for showers before Sarah’s Halloween party.
“I grabbed extra candy to leave out on the porch.” I point to the bag that Charlie is struggling to drag across the floor toward the kitchen. “Someone should probably help her…” I mumble, following after Bo to the kitchen. He swoops down and picks up both Charlie and the bag of groceries on his way. She giggles, flopping like a fish in his arms.
“So, your trip?” he asks over his shoulder, dropping the bag onto the counter but snuggling Charlie closer. We don’t have favourites, of course. But Charlie is Bo’s twin in every way. While they share the same golden hair, hazel eyes, and freckles as August—Charlie’s temperament is all Bo. August has strong firstborn energy. Since birth, that girl has been ruling our house. Hell, she was ruling our lives before birth.
But Charlie is our peaceful, helpful, curious girl. She asks a million questions every single day, especially before bed. It’s a tactic to delay bedtime, of course, but they’re all such interesting questions, so we can’t help but give in. Bo especially. He lies next to her, his long body crammed into her small twin bed, and they ponder existence together.
Why does the Earth have so many people? Will there ever be too many people? Are there people on other planets? Galaxies? Do they have chocolate too?
She also has his sweet tooth.
But they all have that.
“Honey?” Bo asks, smiling softly. “Your trip?”
I shake myself from my wandering thoughts. “Sorry, yes. It was great. Camp Piyette was stunning. I took pictures of a few things I think we should try to fit into the budget next summer. Also, they’ve just upgraded to be all-season, and I do think we should seriously consider—”
“Mom?” August says, pulling her headphones off, halfway from the bathroom back to her bedroom. “When did you get home?” She takes off running toward me.
“Hi!” I say as she crashes into my side, the opposite hip from her baby sister. August circles her arms around my waist and squeezes. Because, suddenly, she’s big enough to reach all the way around her mama and do such a thing.
I blinked, maybe three times too many, and now she’s this big, strong girl with so many clever thoughts and strong opinions.
“I missed you too, kid,” I say, my chin resting on the top of her head. “It was four days too many.”
“Wait! Me too!” Charlie says, tugging Bo by the collar. He walks over to us, laughing as he drops Charlie onto my shoulders.
“Happy Halloween, my little gremlins!” I say, giggling as I juggle all three of them. “Were you good for Dad? Do we still get to go to Auntie Sarah’s party tonight?” I look to Bo for an answer.
He smiles proudly, a tilt of his chin as he admires all of his girls. “It was touch and go for a minute there. There was a biting incident,” he points to Joey, wearing an insincere scowl, “and someone else failed to tell me about her math homework until the night before it was due.”
“August Sarah Durand, you know it hurts your father when we keep math from him.”
August rolls her eyes. “I just forgot. I got an A on it, though.”
“Course you did, smartie pants. And what about Miss Charlie?” I say, shrugging my shoulders so she bounces. “What did she get up to?”
“Charlie was Charlie,” Bo says, grinning from ear to ear. “She kept everyone in line.”
“I also found a bird’s nest in the backyard. It’s empty… for now,” Charlie tells me over top of my head.
“A bird’s nest? That’s amazing!”
“Can I get down now?” she asks Bo, who nods and walks over, lifting her off and placing her onto the floor. She takes off skipping toward her bedroom. I shuffle Joey up my hip, but she reaches for Bo, who’s got a washcloth ready and waiting to clean her up.