21 October 1996 - Hospital Road, Leominster, Massachusetts

“Okay, so there’s the head on twin number one...” Marie Nuno muttered while performing Keiko’s four month ultrasound. “Everything’s looking good ... Well, it looks like you’re having at least one boy!” Keiko smiled at Jeff and squeezed his hand. A son! “Okay, let’s track down number two ... There it is! Looking good here ... And you can paint his room blue, also! Another boy! Congratulations!”

Dr. Nuno commented that the weights of both babies would each be slightly lower than that of a single baby, but that there wasn’t anything to be alarmed at from what she could see. Keiko and Jeff thanked her before heading home.

“Jeffrey? Is there something wrong?”

“What? No, Keiko, nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

“Your mood, you are much more subdued than before the appointment. If I did not know you as well as I do I would say you are disappointed. But that is not quite it, is it?”

Jeff sighed. “I’m sorry, Keiko; please don’t think that I’m disappointed that we’re having the boys in any way. It’s just that ... well, part of me was hoping we would be having a little girl as well as a boy.”

Keiko smiled at her husband while putting her hand over his. “You wanted Daddy’s Little Girl.”

“I guess I did.”

“Just because both of our families had two children - myself and Ken, you and Kara - that is no reason we will stop at two as well.” Jeff glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “We will discuss that later.”

“Keiko there is something I would like to discuss now, though: names. You know how we have been saying a boy would be ‘Kenneth Alexander?’” Keiko nodded. “Now that we know both twins are boys, what do you think about ‘Alexander Kenji’ and ‘Ryan Isoroku?’”

Keiko’s eyebrows rose now. “‘Alexander’ and ‘Ryan’ are names which have not appeared for generations, if at all, in our families. I have no objections to them, but the two middle names you have just suggested are clearly of Japanese origin. What of your heritage?”

“Alexander the Great was Greek; Ryan is a common Irish given and family name, Keiko-chan.”

“It has been a while since you called me that, husband,” Keiko smiled. “And the choices of names are well-reasoned. Nicely done.”

“ ... so things probably aren’t set up that differently than how things were at Chauncey.”

“Just the fact that Brophy’s tried to standardize ambulance layouts is more than management at Chauncey ever did,” replied Shawna LeStrange, Jeff’s new partner.

Shawna started a month ago; she’d come over from Chauncey EMS, the current EMS provider for Arlington. She’d spent the last month doing her third-ride time and some remedial training. By coming over before the official transition Shawna would have two months seniority over her former coworkers.

“It sucks that you guys are being painted with the same brush your management’s being hit with right now.”

“Not by anyone here, thankfully. You guys have all been great to me.”

“Just because the chuckleheads in the office over there screwed the pooch doesn’t mean you and your counterparts on the road weren’t good at your jobs. The way I hear it, Arlington would have stuck with Chauncey if the Feds weren’t tearing them apart over suspected Medicare fraud; how many times have we heard that song played around Boston alone? The care the people of that city received was very good, which is why Sean and Seamus are ready to hire so many medics and EMTs from them when the contract switches over. You could have stayed over there without an issue, if you’d wanted to.”

“Arlington was a nice place to work, but I wanted the opportunity to work in a new city. That and my husband and I live on the Lynn/Saugus line; my commute to and from Medford is much easier than to and from Arlington was.”

“As easy as a commute can be around here.”

“Exactly. Jeff, I have to ask you something. I’ve noticed that lots of folks call Mr. Brophy, Junior, ‘Sean.’ You’re the only person I’ve seen, however, who is routinely in his office having coffee with him. You’re also the only person I know of here who refers to Mr. Brophy, Senior, as ‘Seamus.’”

“Sean used to work the road here; from just before Thanksgiving 1993 to Labor Day of last year we were partners. We were each other’s Best Man at our weddings. He’s probably my best friend right now, other than my wife. Seamus worked on me for a couple of years before I felt comfortable calling him ‘Seamus.’ I’d guessed Sean’s secret less than six months after he’d started but didn’t tell a soul outside of my immediate family, and then only one or two in that group. That earned me a good amount of respect in their eyes, as well as trust.”

“What secret?”

“When Sean started here his last name was ‘McNeil.’ Seamus knew he had a son out there somewhere, but Sean’s mother had cut off contact when he was five. Seamus knew where Sean was, roughly, but respected his ex-girlfriend’s wishes and stayed out of their lives. Sean learned who and where his father was and contacted Seamus when he was about fifteen. They rebuilt their relationship and Sean moved up here after getting a business degree at Duke.”

“Sean didn’t say anything nor did Seamus, and they tried to act like they’d just met, but I caught something when I ‘introduced’ him to Seamus on his first day. He didn’t know that I knew until we’d been working together for about five months.”

“Wow. So don’t try to keep any secrets from you?”

“I’m not going to call your husband up and tell him what you’re getting him for Christmas, Shawna, don’t worry about that. Let’s head over to Malden ER and I’ll introduce you to some more of my friends.”

Later in the week they were working together again, this time in Medford; neither had worked there before, but they could both read a map so no one was too worried about them getting lost. In the end it didn’t matter anyway. All of their calls that day were in the section of Medford between the Mystic River and Somerville, with many clustered east of Tufts University. They learned that section of Medford very well.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” quipped the captain of Engine Five; they’d just arrived at the same call as Paramedic Thirty-one, Shawna and Jeff’s truck, for the fifth time in that ten-hour shift.

“Hey, Cap,” called Jeff.

“Am I glad we’re only working a ten-hour day shift today. I’m pretty sure you two would keep us running all night!”

“Only until eleven tonight, Cap. We’re only on a sixteen.”

“Well, thank heaven for small favors,” the captain muttered while they climbed the stairs to the house. “And call me ‘Nick, ‘ Nick DeCosta.”

“Good to meet you, Nick. I’m Jeff Knox; my partner is Shawna LeStrange.”

“This isn’t going to be your regular shift, is it?”

“I’m afraid so, Nick. The Tuesday overnight and Saturday seven to eleven double in Medford every week. Our other double is Monday nights in Malden.”

“Remind me to put in for vacation days when you’re working.”

“Your parents all settled?” Jeff asked Keiko while they readied themselves for bed.

“Yes, thank you, Jeffrey. I am sure they will be quite comfortable in our guest room tonight.”

“I hope they aren’t too upset with us when we surprise my parents and them with the news about the boys.”

“I am sure their happiness will negate any displeasure they might feel. We must tell the four grandparents before the rest of your family tomorrow, however.”

“Yeah, that would be a good choice. We’ll tell them once we’re all at Monica’s house, before all of the family announcements at dinner.”

“That will be a good time to inform them, yes.”

The younger Knox couple and the Takahashis piled into Jeff’s new car the next morning for the ride to Dana and the annual Keiolis Christmas party; Mayumi and Hiro would be in Massachusetts through New Year’s. They arrived in Dana at the same time as Marisa and Joe.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Jeff,” his father answered while Marisa hugged Keiko. His parents exchanged pleasantries with Keiko’s and began to lead them inside.

“Hey, guys, hold up,” Jeff called to them as they walked away.

“What is it, Jeff?” Mayumi asked.

“Yeah, whatever it is can’t wait until we’re inside?” his mother asked. “It’s a little cold out here today.”

“We wish to tell you this in private, Marisa, before the rest of the family learns of this,” Keiko explained.

Looks of worry crossed the mothers’ faces before Keiko handed over a copy of an ultrasound image. “What are these, Keiko?” her mother asked. She studied the images closer. “We know you are having twins, but what is the significance of the ultrasound pictures?”

“We found out in October what the gender of the twins will be; Jeffrey and I wish to share with you the first images of your grandsons before we go inside. May we introduce Alexander Kenji and Ryan Isoroku Knox?”

Both mothers eyes began to water before they hugged their children tight. The grandfathers shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulders.

“Nicely done, Keiko, Jeff,” Hiro said. “You’ve blended your two heritages well with your choices for the boys’ names.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, Hiro,” Joe added. “Now, can we go inside before we ‘blend’ into the snowbank?”

“So, Mr. Knox? What brings you into the dojo?”

“I studied karate in high school and I’ve been been back at it for about three years, since I reconnected with my wife in ‘94. We spar together at home, or at least we did before we learned she was pregnant in August.”

“Your wife studies karate as well I trust? Sparring with an untrained person could be dangerous. Forgive me for asking; you do seem like a person who would take that into consideration before starting such a thing.”

“No need to apologize, sir; I understand your concern. She has been studying karate for most of her life; she’s second-dan with instructor training. Once the twins are born Keiko wants to begin training here also. She feels she’s been stagnating, her words, and wishes to continue towards third-dan and higher.”

“As someone opening a new dojo I would welcome her to visit. She could see if she’d feel comfortable training here; we could even discuss her being an instructor as well. You are expecting twins?” Jeff nodded. “Congratulations. May I ask when she is due?”

“It looks like the middle of March at this point.”

“So, only a couple of months away. One baby can be a significant change to a family; twins will be much more so. Will you be able to devote enough time here? How often have you been training at home?”

“We’d been doing our forms together every morning before Keiko heads to work until my schedule changed in December. My current schedule has me working two seven a.m. to eleven p.m. double shifts and one eight-hour shift per week; I do my forms with Keiko before she leaves for work when our schedules allow. She’s getting to the point where her balance is being affected; I’ve started doing forms by myself but need to get back to training also. Depending on the class schedule here I see myself training two to three times a week, minimum.”

“Police officer?”

“Paramedic.”

“Since I just opened at the beginning of the year and haven’t yet had many people through, we could tailor a schedule around yours to a degree. That may change in the future if more students sign up and ask for classes later, depending on your skill level. What are you ranked now?”

“I was high blue, nearing green, at my previous dojo near Boston; blue was middle of the pack there and green was just above that. In our workouts together Keiko and I were focusing on my flexibility and speed.”

“Conditioning?”

“I’d say it’s good.”

“I have to test that and your karate ability to rank you properly here.”

“My schedule today is wide open, if you have the time.”

“How about now?”

“Let’s do it. I brought my gi with me.”

“Go ahead and change in the bathroom, then warm up. Let me know when you are ready.”

Jeff nodded. He emerged from the bathroom minutes later. Bowing to the mat before he stepped onto it he quickly began his stretches. Jeff surprised Sensei Doug when he began doing push-ups on closed fists; Doug’s master at his old dojo had the beginners do push-ups in that manner to strengthen their wrists. He watched Jeff do one hundred push-ups like that before switching to spread-hands and doing another hundred. Doug watched Jeff do a similar number of sit-ups.

“How many a day?” he asked Jeff when he’d finished.

“Anywhere between six to eight hundred a day of each on my days off. Then the stretches, kata, weight work, six-mile interval run...”

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Occasionally,” Jeff chuckled. “I’m guessing that answer will change to ‘no’ once the boys are born.”

“Would you like a few minutes to rest before we start the karate test?”

“No, I’m good.”

Doug started slow then ramped up the speed while they sparred. Jeff found himself anticipating many of Sensei’s strikes and able to keep up with the increasing speed. The speed of the strikes leveled off while the attacks continued to change. Eventually Sensei slipped a blow past Jeff’s defenses and stuck him in the chest. Sensei stepped back after landing the punch and signaled it was time to stop.

“You said you were about to test for green when you and your wife moved?”

“Yes.”

Sensei nodded. “Wait here.” A minute later he returned from the office. “Remove your blue belt, please.” Jeff did so and Sensei tied a brown belt in its place. “Whatever your wife has been teaching you is working. I pushed you right to the edge of my speed and you kept up. Hell it felt like you could have gone faster, too. I would very much like to have you study here; I’d very much like to have your wife teach here when she’s able, and you too when you earn your black belt. You’ll see a slowdown in your progress now that you’re not training every day. That’s normal so don’t be concerned but, somehow, I doubt your progress will suffer as much as you’re thinking.”

Shawna and Jeff ate their lunches in the front seat of Paramedic Thirty-one one late-February afternoon. They’d done two calls so far that shift - routine, low-priority emergencies - which had them out of the station early and were now looking out over the Mystic River while they ate. Even less than five miles from Boston there were plenty of places you could go, forget where you were and relax.

Jeff tried to take his time eating his steak tip grinder, but Shawna shook her head at the speed with which it disappeared. She picked slowly at the chicken Caesar salad she’d been eating for the past twenty minutes; in that time Jeff consumed a bag of chips, a small order of french fries, half his soda and three-quarters of his sandwich.

“I have absolutely no idea why you don’t weigh four hundred pounds the way you eat,” she said to him.

“And how do I eat?”

“Constantly.”

“You know I work out a little, right?”

“When we’re working, yes, ‘a little.’ When you’re off it’s ‘a lot.’” Jeff gave her a look before taking a big bite and smiling at her. She shook her head again. “You’re worse than my three year-old!” she lamented while wiping his face with a napkin; the juices from the steak tips were all over his cheeks. “Your wife must have the patience of a saint!”

“And, because I work with you, I have... ?”

“You’ll have my foot connecting with your backside if you don’t watch out!”

“Isaac wouldn’t stand for this kind of abuse!” Jeff cried, referencing her husband.

“He’s smart enough not to put himself in the position to need that kind of corrective action! That’s certainly more than I can say for you!”

Jeff chuckled. The three months he’d been working with Shawna reminded him of working with Sean; they fit together like an old, married couple. They already called each other “work husband” and “work wife.” He and Isaac shared a good laugh about that when they’d met just after New Year’s.

“She’ll be having you fetch her slippers and tea in no time.”

“I do that now!” Jeff said then. “Well, minus the ‘slippers’ part that is.” She’d just given them a dark look a that point; that was the last joke about her they’d made. “So how do you think the Sox will do this year, Isaac?” Jeff asked soon after, switching to a safer subject.

Jeff chuckled at the memory, raising his sandwich to take another bite; a wet <slap> on the windshield made him look up before he bit down. The day was cold and dry to that point, an icy twenty-eight degrees. There was no snow pack left, but the ground was frozen hard. The raindrop froze to the windshield on contact. Three more landed in rapid succession.

“This is not gonna be good,” Shawna muttered.

“Nope.”

Jeff cranked the defroster for the windshield while Shawna made sure the heat was blowing in the back. The rain lasted five minutes at the most, but that was long enough to put a skim of ice on everything.

“Medford Fire Alarm to A-One?” came the call five minutes later; the primary ambulance assigned to Medford was “A-One” regardless of company designation.

“A-One, Winthrop Street by the Veterans Park baseball fields.”

“A-One, I-93 South between the Route 16 and Route 38 exits for the multiple-vehicle MVA.”

“A-One has 93 South.” Jeff and Shawna tossed their trash between their seats and got ready for the response.

“A-One, multiple calls on this. Callers are advising 93 is blocked at this time. Recommend using the access road off Exit 30 and coming northbound up 93 South. Use extreme caution.”

Jeff and Shawna shared a glance; that didn’t sound good. “A-One has the message, Fire Alarm.”

“Fire Alarm, received. Callers confirm 93 South is totally blocked.” The apparatus assignment came over the radio next.

“He said ‘Engine Five’ in there, right?” Shawna asked while they drove down Main Street. “You know Nick’s gonna be on Engine Five today, right?”

Jeff nodded. “We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t whack us over the heads with a Halligan given our past history on his shifts.” Jeff picked up the company radio’s mic. “Thirty-one to Operations?”

“Thirty-one?”

“Thirty-one, we’re being dispatched to 93 South in Medford for a multi-vehicle MVA. We just had about five minutes of rain cover everything in ice out here. Reports are the highway is blocked between 16 and 38; we’re being told to get on at 38 and head north in the southbound lane. Could you start the on-duty supervisor, three BLS and two ALS as a precaution? We’ll update as soon as possible.”

“Thirty-one, roger.”

Jeff reached the access road to the Interstate after ten minutes of careful travel.

“The ice seems to have ended a little way back,” Jeff commented while the truck bumped over the curb and onto the dirt path between the highway ramps. He and Shawna stared back up the highway, scanning for traffic. “Here goes...”

Paramedic Thirty-one crawled up the breakdown lane with lights flashing and siren wailing. They soon came across a wall of wrecked cars with traffic stretched out behind them, beginning to extend northward. Drivers who were out of their cars noticed Thirty-one approaching and began waving frantically.

“Thirty-one, we’re going out, establishing 93 South Command,” Jeff told Brophy’s communications center. “Advise responding units there is no ice on the roadways south of the accident but to continue with caution. We can confirm southbound 93 traffic is stopped due to the accident.”

“Roger, 93 South.”

“Move the incident on 93 South to Channel Two, please.”

“Roger, 93 South Command. <BEEP> <BEEP> <BEEP> Units responding to the accident on I-93 South, switch to Channel Two for the incident per order of the commander. Again, units responding to the accident on I-93 South, switch to Channel Two per order of the incident commander.” They soon heard the six units responding to the crash acknowledge on the new radio channel.

“A-One to Fire Alarm, we’re on-scene, establishing 93 South Command. Traffic is blocked south of the 35 mile marker. All responding apparatus should use the off-ramp for Exit 30, come north in the southbound lanes and stage in the breakdown lane for now.”

“Roger, 93 South.”

“Alright, Shawna. Showtime. Remember, triage first; we need to know how many injuries we have. Once we get more help up here we can start treating people.”

“Right.”

Donning their traffic-cone-orange coats and MCI vests, the two began to catalogue injuries as they found them. Jeff radioed for three additional BLS ambulances due to the amount of minor injuries they found. The first other unit arriving was a Medford fire engine with a State Police cruiser behind it. Jeff briefed both the crew of the engine and the trooper on what they’d found, turned non-EMS command over to the Medford Deputy Chief when he arrived and helped formulate an initial plan.

“X-ray One to EMS Command.”

“X-ray One?”

“Command, you’ll have to run this one yourself; I just slid off the road.”

“Pete, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Pete DiFranza replied in disgust and resignation, “I’m fine. I misjudged a corner up here on the Fellsway trying to get to you and I think X-ray One’s axle is gone. I’ve got a bloody lip and a loose tooth but I think that’s it. I’m switching back to Channel One.”

Jeff acknowledged and went back to work.

The more serious injuries were concentrated near the high-speed lane. Crews worked to extricate the injured from their cars, then tow trucks began to pull apart the wreckage; this would allow the traffic to start to flow past the scene. Traffic was light on this Saturday.

Even still it took hours to pull people from their vehicles and their vehicles from the highway. Shawna, now acting as Loading Officer, made sure families stayed together as much as possible. They had to send one little boy to Children’s Hospital with head trauma; his parents went to neighboring Brigham and Women’s. The two hospitals are connected by a skybridge.

One by one ambulances, tow and fire trucks left the accident scene. The State Police remained on-scene investigating while Paramedic Thirty-one followed Engine Five and the Medford Deputy Chief back to Station Five on Medford Street. Two long hours of work on the highway left Jeff and Shawna cold and tired; Nick DeCosta’s crew served them some of their crockpot chili to help them warm up.

“I was gonna say something snarky when I first saw you two on-scene today,” Nick said, “but I wasn’t sure how that would have gone over. You guys handled that scene really well; do you have a lot of experience with calls like that?”

“I don’t know about Shawna, but I’ve only done one other call like that and it wasn’t run that way.” Jeff filled the people around the table in on the crash in Ohio and his history in the Army.

“That was my first live MCI,” Shawna admitted. “I haven’t even done many mock ones.”

“You guys could have fooled us,” Stan Williams, one of Nick’s firefighters, said. “I’ve seen a few accidents on 93 in my time here, and that was one of the better ones as far as incident management goes.” Stan had been with Medford Fire for close to twenty-five years, but had opted not to go for promotion, and had been on Engine Five for most of that time. “That was certainly the best coordinated one.”

“As busy as it gets when you guys are around you’re one of the crews, if not the crew, I don’t mind seeing on-scene.”

“I am very tired tonight, Jeffrey. I believe I will go to bed now.”

“Is there anything I can do, Keiko?”

“No, my husband. I simply need to give birth to these two little karate masters,” she said, holding a hand to her swollen abdomen.

“I hope they let you sleep tonight.”

“As do I. Goodnight.”

“I’m gonna do some stretches and I’ll be up. I love you, Keiko-chan.”

“I love you as well, Jeffrey.”

Jeff watched Keiko trudge up the stairs to their room. She’d done well carrying the twins until this past week when her fatigue level seemed to jump. Her hand was on the small of her back while she disappeared from sight. Jeff did a few of his kata and followed his wife up the stairs fifteen minutes later. Keiko snored softly as he slid into bed.

Jeff held Keiko’s hand while trying to fall asleep. In her slumber she pulled him to her as she lay on her left side; he spooned up next to her. While she’d been able to smile through the entire pregnancy Jeff knew his wife; he could read her fatigue early on, the last trimester especially. Her hard work started nine months ago, and would continue after she gave birth, while he readied himself for the start of his.

Keiko’s gentle breathing soon lulled him to sleep.

The bright summer sun shined down on the beach, driving the temperature well into the nineties; the on-shore breeze brought some relief to the young couple relaxing on their towels. The husband allowed himself to be pulled towards the water moments later when his wife decided it was time to cool off. He admired his wife’s toned body, her firm, flat stomach under the black bikini she wore; she’d worn it a few times since their honeymoon, but not often enough to his thinking.

She smiled back at him while pulling him into the warm water. She stopped when the water was deep enough to reach his waist; she pulled him down for a long kiss. Smiling up at him when it ended she started whispering in his ear.

“Wake up, Jeffrey,” she said in the dream. “Jeffrey, wake up.”

“Jeffrey? Jeffrey, wake up.”

Jeff opened his eyes with a snort. “Wha... ? Wahisit?” he asked, trying to get his bearings.

“It is time, Jeffrey. We must go,” Keiko said.

“Huh... ?”

“My water has broken, Jeffrey. It is time to go to the hospital. I... <HUH!>“

“Keiko?” he asked with concern, sitting up.

“It is ... it is a contraction... ,” she told him, trying to breathe through it. “Get yourself ready, Jeffrey, while I time the contraction.”

Jeff rolled out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. Glancing at the clock told him he’d only been asleep for a few hours; it was 3:15 a.m. He looked down to discover that his shorts were wet. He remembered that Keiko said her water broke while they were asleep so that was likely the reason for the stain he saw. He washed his face and stripped off the wet shorts. When he emerged Keiko was sitting on the edge of the bed breathing through another contraction; she’d changed while he was in the bathroom.

“Five minutes apart...” she panted. “Lasting about one minute.”

Jeff nodded. He got dressed and grabbed their pre-packed overnight bags. “Were you able to get hold of Dr. Nuno?”

“Her answering service,” Keiko replied while he helped her to the garage and his car. “I confirmed our cell phone numbers with them when I asked them to contact her.”

Jeff fought to keep his speed down while they drove to Leominster Hospital. Every time he looked down the speedometer told him he was going at least ten miles an hour over the limit. Keiko reached over and patted his hand, trying to calm and slow him down. Jeff stopped at the traffic light south of Route 2 after exiting the highway. He glanced left and right, tapping on the steering wheel while he checked the intersection; seeing no one around, he ran the red light.

“JEFFREY!”

“There’s no one around, Keiko,” he muttered while turning right at the next red light. He’d at least come to a full stop, however brief, before turning. Parking in the ER lot Jeff darted inside to get a wheelchair for Keiko. He helped his wife into the chair, locked the car and began pushing her inside.

“Good evening, sir,” came a voice from the shadows; two Leominster police officers stepped out of them. “Were you driving a Volkswagen Passat wagon on North Main Street just now?”

“Yes, sir, the one over there,” Jeff admitted.

“Did you perhaps, sir, run the red light at North Main and Lindell?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

The officer glanced down at Keiko who wore a bemused expression as she watched the interaction. “Given your wife’s obvious condition we understand your desire to get to the hospital as soon as possible, sir. I might suggest, however, that waiting for the light to change would have been a safer choice, regardless of the time of day. I’m sure you’d rather be adding someone to your family rather than subtracting two someones?” Keiko held up two fingers while pointing to her belly. “Twins?” the officer asked; Keiko nodded. The officer cocked his head, giving Jeff a look which asked if he was stupid.

“Yes, sir. Addition would be preferable, especially where we are expecting twins.”

The officers exchanged a glance before looking at Jeff again. “You should get your wife inside, sir. Congratulations, ma’am. Have a good morning.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Keiko gritted her teeth while another contraction hit. “You heard the man, Jeffrey. Move out!”

Ten hours later Keiko did her best to crush Jeff’s hand while breathing through another contraction. Her face was covered in sweat, her normally neat hair formed an unkempt mane flowing down her back.

“You’re doing great, Keiko,” Marie Nuno commented. “You’re fully dilated and your cervix is one hundred percent effaced. The first twin is already in the birth canal. You’re ready to start pushing!”

Keiko collapsed back into the bed, already exhausted at the prospect of hours of more labor. Jeff bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, Keiko-chan. Almost there, almost there,” he whispered in Japanese. “That’s the end of the beginning. Can I get you some ice chips?”

“Please, husband,” she said with a weary smile.

“I love you,” he whispered again after giving the ice to Keiko. “I’ve been in awe of your strength for years, and especially these past nine months; that strength is perfectly balanced by your caring and grace. You will be the best mother our boys could possibly have.”

Keiko’s eyes watered while she pulled her husband down for a long kiss. “And you, Jeffrey, will be the best role model our boys could ever have. Hard working, caring, well-read and someone who never quits. I love you also.”

By just after four p.m. the first twin was crowning; fifteen minutes later it was his brother’s turn. By four-thirty Jeff placed both sons in Keiko’s arms. “The twin on your left is Alex, Keiko. On your right is Ryan.” The boys both sported straight black hair on their heads. Alex was keeping his eyes closed, but Ryan opened his long enough to reveal deep brown eyes like his mother’s. Their parents could already see facial differences between the two to show they weren’t identical twins, but also enough similarities to show they were brothers.

“I love you, Keiko,” Jeff muttered, kissing Keiko yet again. “Whose parents do we call first?”