When I got pregnant with twins at twenty-three years old, their father, my husband, left me when he found out I was pregnant because he thought I was cheating on him. I was, but that is beside the point. Whenever I cheated on him I always used protection. So that if I did get pregnant it would only be by him.
I was three months pregnant when I told him. I am so small nobody could tell I was pregnant. He had his doubts right from the very first. He had suspected and had heard rumors that I had been seen with other men. I never admitted to sleeping with other men. I have a friend who is a lawyer and she told me, “Admit to nothing.”
My husband moved out of the house the day I told him I was pregnant. Ever since we had been seeing each other I always stayed at home and never worked. It wasn't that I was lazy or didn't want to work, my husband didn't want me to work.
At first, I objected. We wanted to start a family, and I figured if I worked too it would give us more money for baby things and maybe even put money in savings for the baby's college or whatever. My husband told me, “No, I don't want my wife to work. I make plenty of money.”
He did have a great job and made great money. His family owned a construction business and he was the foreman. He didn't have to do any of the physical labor, but he liked being, ‘one of the guys’, not just a boss, so he helped out a lot.
I guess that's why I cheated. I just got bored sitting at home all day every day. Some of my girlfriends stopped by almost every day and we would do stuff.
Then when I was about six months pregnant, and showing a little now, a couple moved in next door to me and they had teenage boys. I had talked to their mother a couple of days before and she told me she had two sixteen-year-old twin boys. They had been living next door to me for about a week when I met the boys for the first time. I had just gotten home from the store, getting stuff for the twins, getting ready for when they came home from the hospital.
I had two cribs, a couple cases of diapers, and some other things. Two of everything.
The boys had been outside doing yard work when they saw me come home so they rushed over to help me carry the stuff in. I couldn't believe it, they were identical twins. It was the middle of summer and all they had on were shorts and flip-flops. The way they were sweating you would have sworn they just got out of the shower.
Sweat was just running down their chests. It looked like they didn't have an ounce of fat on them. My face lit up when I saw them. One said, “Here, ma'am. Let us help you with those.”
Well, I wasn't about to refuse the help. The boys were about six feet tall and about one hundred and eighty pounds. They seemed to tower over my five-foot-two form. I had the trunk lid up and they each grabbed a crib and followed me into the house with it.
I couldn't believe how strong they were. It took two grown men to carry each of the cribs to my car and these two boys picked them up like they were nothing. I had them put the cribs down in the front room and then they went out to get the rest of the stuff. It took them three trips.
While they were carrying everything in, I had to sit down. Even though I was only one hundred and twenty pounds, I think I gained about fifteen pounds when I got pregnant, I felt like a beach ball with arms and legs.
Once everything was inside my house I said, ”Well, thanks for all the help, boys.”
One of the boys said, “It was our pleasure ma'am.”
If there is one thing I can't stand, it's being called ma'am. Especially by someone not much younger than me. Before I could say anything one of the boys said, “You shouldn't be carrying heavy things like that in your condition, ma'am.”
His brother gave him a nudge in the ribs and whispered, “Ben!”
I said, “Hey, it's ok. But please, call me Ginger. I hate being called ma'am by young people. It makes me feel so old.”
Ben spoke again, “Sorry, but we were always taught to call people sir and ma'am until told otherwise.”
I told them, “Well, now you've been told.”
Ben said, “Well, I'm Ben, and this is my brother, Sam.”
I said, “Well, I really want to thank you boys. I don't know what I would have done without you.” I started to get up and said, “Let me pay you for helping me.”
They both refused. Ben said, “We couldn't take anything. We were glad to help.”
Sam said, “We live just next door. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call.”
I could think of a few things they could do for me. It had been almost six months since I had sex. My husband had left. Our divorce just became final a week ago. At this point, I didn't think I would have any trouble handling both of them at the same time. But I resisted the urge.
Sam saw a pad and pen on the counter and wrote his and his brother's cell numbers down for me. Ben asked, “Do you have someone to put all this stuff together for you?”
I gave him a smile and said, “Yes, he was going to pick it up and bring it home for me today but an emergency came up and he couldn't make it.”
Ben said, “Well, just remember. If you need anything, just give one of us a call and we'll be glad to help.”
I thanked them and they left.
The guy who was supposed to come by and put the baby's furniture together for me called me a few days later and said he wouldn't be able to. His wife didn't trust him around me and she didn't like me anyway. So, I called up one of the cell numbers Sam had left me. I chose to call Ben's number.