“I’m just thinking about everything. Like what will happen if this happens or if this doesn’t happen.”

“I know,” Jenny said. “I’m the same way.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking at her when he said it but looking at the bedding in the crib.

“About what?”

“About—about the company. That this had to happen at this moment—”

“Kev.”

“What?”

“Stop.”

He looked at her and knew she was right. He was panicking, feeling overwhelmed.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said in her calm and soft voice.

“You know it’s bad when a hormonal mother expecting twins tells you to stay calm.”

She laughed. “I didn’t say ‘stay calm.’ I just said things are going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“I really believe that. I really believe God’s going to take care of us. I have to or else I just worry about it all day long.”

Like I do, huh?

“Just the timing of everything happening with Precision—”

“Is meant to be,” she finished.

He smiled and walked over to her, kissing her on the forehead and then helping her stand.

“I’m tired,” she said. “And you look beat. You should come to bed.”

“It’s bad when a tired mother of twins tells you that you look beat.”

“Stop with this ‘It’s bad when’ stuff. Stop thinking bad thoughts.”

It’s easy for you to say.

“Don’t worry, okay?” she added. “Things are going to be fine.”

Jenny left him alone again. The room was quiet. He tried imagining the two of them in here, each holding a baby, Gregory running around grabbing pacifiers and wipes and diapers and burp cloths. He thought of little round cheeks smiling up at him with a smile that didn’t know worry or fear but simply wanted to be by Mommy or Daddy.

For a second he felt as if his heart were suspended in air in the middle of this room.

Lord, please be with those boys.

It’d been so long since he sat in silence and prayed. So long.

Kevin hoped that God didn’t keep track of how long it’d been.

A Common Bond

Thomas lay in bed unable to sleep. All he could think of was the game. It had been a close one against Wake Forest, a team the Tarheels should’ve beaten. Should’ve blown out. But they weren’t sharp, not tonight.

Games like this one got him fired up to go and play. He wanted to be the guy holding the ball with ten seconds left, their team down by two.

He wanted to be the one to drain that three-point shot.

His mind raced, picturing the scene, imagining the dream.

And then suddenly he realized that for the first time in some time, he missed his father.

Sure, the guy was mean. Didn’t matter if he was drinking or not, his father was never warm and cuddly. But he loved sports and he especially loved the University of North Carolina. His father used to play point guard during high school and college, so his favorite thing to do was sit back in his chair, yell at the screen and make calls, drinking beer and usually cheering since the Tarheels were so good.