Page 125 of A Really Bad Idea

I rock Lucy and look at the room Beth decorated in light pink walls and weathered gray mini cribs. Next to the changing table is a photo of me and Christian on our wedding day. Our smiles are big as we look at the camera. He looks debonair in my most favorite look on him—a tuxedo—and underneath my white lace dress are the most gorgeous pair of silver sparkle Yves Saint Laurent shoes that Beth bought me as a wedding gift.

We married the September after he proposed with a penny. The ceremony and reception were at The Loeb Boathouse in Central Park, overlooking my fountain … our fountain. Our moms planned the entire affair. Beth served as my matron of honor, and Christian asked his father. The band played an entire hour of boy band music.

I wear his grandmother’s rings and feel a tinge of amazement every time I think of my life. I married the man I’d wished for and have the family I dreamed about.

Lucy has fallen asleep in my arms, so I adjust my top and change my girl. This nursery is similar to the one we have at home, except the girls have their names on the wall over their cribs and a mural of hearts and stars painted on the ceiling.

Before the wedding, Christian moved in with me, only to find out we were pregnant with twins, and our home was suddenly too small for the four of us. I hated the idea of leaving. I was quite close to Sal and couldn’t part with my lovable doorman. We sold the apartment and bought a new one two floors up. It’s three bedrooms with the same open kitchen, and it has the same view of Central Park but even better.

With my little lady changed, I walk her downstairs. The house is empty, and it seems everyone is on the back deck. It’s a beautiful spring day with a sunny sky and the fresh scent of daffodils and cut grass.

Today is my thirty-fifth birthday. Two years ago, I was looking out this door, dreading walking outside to the party that awaited. It was full of people I really didn’t want to see and advice I didn’t want to receive.

Instead of wanting to turn around and run away from everyone, I’m excited to see my family, the people I love the most.

As warm as it is, I take a baby blanket from my diaper bag and lay it over Lucy. When I walk through the French doors, my mother rises from the patio table with her arms wide open.

“There’s my girl!” She’s not talking to me. She’s talking to the baby. “Come to Grandma.”

My mom takes Lucy from my arms and saunters over to the table where she takes a seat next to Thomas, who has Abigail in his arms as he feeds her a bottle.

Christian walks up to me and slides an arm around my shoulders. He kisses my hair. “The old man stole her from me as soon as I came downstairs.”

Thomas grins at his son. “Not too long ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever have grandchildren. Sue me for wanting to enjoy every minute of this!”

My dad nods in agreement. “You know what you two need?” He points his Tom Collins in my and Christian’s direction. “A weekend away. Let the grandparents watch the kids.”

I shake my head. “We’re not ready to leave the girls.”

“Maybe in another two months,” Christian says.

I shoot a look back at him.

He raises a shoulder. “I’d like to take you away for a weekend before you go back to work. The girls will be six months, and we have a village to take care of them. Literally.”

I look back at our family, all corralled around the table. Our moms have done nothing but spoil our little girls, as has Beth, who already got the girls little Stuart Weitzman shoes for their christening. Dad and Thomas are the doting grandfathers. Even my nephews are helpful with the girls even if they do find this baby stage pretty boring.

“We have the nursery set up. The girls can stay with us,” Brian offers as he walks over with his hands full of drinks and places them on the table in front of Thomas, Beth, and Lucille. “They’re good for us. Seeing how much work they are reminds Beth why we shouldn’t have any more kids.”

Beth crumples a napkin and tosses it at him. “Speak for yourself. I am having way too much fun shopping for them.”

Brian shakes his head in dismay. “Exactly. You should see the bill from Bloomingdale’s. Now, I know why God didn’t bless us with daughters. I’d be in the poorhouse.”

I laugh, thinking that, while Brian’s exaggerating, he does have a point. Beth has been nonstop, buying girlie things. Their closet at home is packed with things I am scrambling to dress them in before they grow out of it all.

“I’m coming over this week. Meadow, I booked you an appointment at the salon. You’re getting dead ends, and you could really use a facial. These first few months are hard on a new mother’s complexion,” my mother states.

I don’t even take offense. I haven’t had a haircut in months, and a little pampering sounds nice.

“I’ll ask Angela if she wants to join me. She’s been nagging for me to do something with her.”

My dear friend has been texting me like crazy, asking when I’m coming back to work because she’s bored. Apparently, watching Christian and I dance around our attraction was the highlight of her workday.

“How is Angela?” Beth asks.

“Crazy as ever. Apparently, without Meadow, she’s resorted to telling me her drama. She’s currently scheming ways to get Denny to propose,” Christian says with a grin. “I told her to ask Gail.”

My mom looks pleased with the comment and then looks at Lucy and Abigail with a proud gleam. “I won’t take all the credit for you two getting together, but I will acknowledge the push.”