As he started up the car, he glanced at the bag that contained the shoe box and the very expensive shoes inside of it.

Maybe those shoes were worth it. Just maybe.

It’s Bad When

The two cribs stood side by side where his desk used to be. The room used to be his home office, and it was officially where Precision Design started when Kevin left the corporate world. They’d pretty much finished the nursery, with Jenny’s parents helping tremendously. But there was still one more thing to add to the room.

Just yesterday they had decided on the names for the boys. Mark and Benjamin. Baby A was Mark, and Baby B was fittingly Benjamin. To celebrate, Jenny had run out and bought capital letters M and B that could go on the wall right above each crib. She had wanted Kevin to hang them right away, but he had paused, telling her it might be better to wait until her father could do it. He was a perfectionist and usually did a better job.

That was only an excuse, however.

There’s another reason you don’t want to put those letters on the wall, isn’t there?

It was late at night and the one lamp on the children’s dresser was on. He was sitting in Jenny’s rocking chair, the place she’d spent so much time nursing Gregory after he was born. He tried to picture both of the babies in this room but he just couldn’t.

You just don’t want to.

The door gently swept open and Jenny came into the room.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked.

He shook his head casually, shrugging. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About the twins?”

“About everything,” he said.

She stayed by the door for the moment, waiting to see if he wanted to talk. Jenny knew there were many times he did want to talk and other times he didn’t want to talk, or be chipper, or share his thoughts.

“You know what I don’t get about myself?” he asked.

“What?”

She walked into the room and leaned against the closest crib.

“Here—sit,” he said, standing.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Come on. You’ll be in that chair pretty soon.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jenny said, taking his advice and resting on the chair.

For a moment Kevin looked at the crib that they had designated for Baby B. For Benjamin. For the baby that would have the nice fat B hanging on the wall above him.

“Sometimes I wonder why it’s so difficult for me to be positive.”

“About Benjamin?”

“Yeah. And about—about everything.”

“That’s just your nature.”

He looked over at her and nodded. “Have I always been like that?”

“Think so.”

“I just wonder why it’s so much easier to worry than it is to hope,” Kevin said.

He looked at the blue B resting against the crib at his feet.

“So you are worried,” Jenny said.

No, not worried exactly. More like terrified.