“Ain’t Lovin’ No Oven.’ Might as well eat my way to the poorhouse if that’s where we’re headed.”

He laughed. “See—that’s the spirit.”

“Just hurry home so it doesn’t totally melt.”

“Yes, sir,” he said as he stood at attention and gave her a salute.

The imagined conversation in bed went something like this:

“Jen?”

“Yeah?”

They would have been speaking in darkness, the only light the alarm clock showing the time as 1:14 A.M.

“It’s going to be okay,” he would have said, an arm around her side and a gentle hand on her stomach.

“I’m worried.” Her voice would be soft and weighted in the darkness.

“I know. But God’s going to take care of things. He’ll take care of us.”

This was his alternate self talking in their alternate universe. The nice kind that resided a few towns away from Pleasantville.

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be responsible,” Jenny could have said.

“We just need to pray. Why don’t we pray together?”

And then in the echoes of his imagination, Kevin would pray, holding Jen’s hand, waiting for her to pray too.

Instead, Kevin heard her slow, steady breathing. She was out. Full from eating every drop of ice cream and tired from the two growing boys inside of her. She slept light as a mouse but also got tired early and stayed tired.

Praying together in the middle of the night was a nice thing that some couples might do. And something that one day they might do. All he knew now was that they had never been a praying couple. And lately, Kevin hadn’t been much for praying altogether.

Somewhere in the journey of trying to be a leader at his firm and in his industry, Kevin forgot to be a leader at home. A leader who guided them financially, emotionally, even spiritually.

Spiritually? Yeah, right.

Faith was one thing, but action was another. Faith was this mysterious, strange entity that he couldn’t fully understand or grab hold of. Business and life and money were all things that lay in his control.

Nothing’s in your control, Kevin, and you of all people should know that.

When it was just him in the middle of the night, without the busyness of the day knocking on his door or the sounds of family or colleagues or friends surrounding him, Kevin would wade into this deep end of worry. It remained there like a pool in the backyard that was never emptied or cleaned. It grew dark and murky yet he just stared at it, taking no action.

Soon there would be no choice but to take action. Soon he’d be dealing with closing shop, right around the time the twins arrived.

Hello, I’m your father, and I just declared bankruptcy! Nice to meet ya both!

Another voice reminded Kevin that Jenny and he had wanted these babies desperately—that they had prayed to have more children. Well, Jenny especially.