Battling the Loss You Live For.

“Let me see, let me see!” Dad cried, bounding up to us, holding out his hands to Sazzy. She giggled, giving Dad the green card containing the pictures. He began to open it, but then I remembered, snatching it off him quickly.
“Hey!” he cried, his lips pouted in a frown, his brow creased in annoyance. Sazzy burst into fits of laughter, clutching her side.
“You look just like Frank!” It was my turn to pout.
“Hey!”
Sazzy burst into more laughter, laughing so loud that Mom came from the kitchen, eyeing us all up with amused eyes while we all just laughed.
“Am I missing something?” she asked a hand on her hip. I shook my head, calming down. I wrapped my arm around Sazzy’s waist, who was rubbing her side, a look of annoyance suddenly on her face.
“What, what’s wrong?” I asked, leading her into the living room. She sat down, disgruntled.
“I got a stitch or a cramp or something,” she mumbled, sighing. I sat next to her, moving her hand off with my own and rubbing her side gently for her, as Mom and Dad walked in, clearly excited.
“Come on, let us see our grandchild!” Mom asked, grinning, as she sat in the armchair adjacent to us.
“Um… there’s something we have to tell you guys,” Sazzy said, sitting up properly and grabbing a hold of my hand off her side, twisting her fingers around mine.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” Dad asked, his brow creased in worry, his golden eyes darkening to a brown.
“No, no! Well… the thing is,” I began, looking to Sazzy, and she nodded at me, gesturing for me to carry on. “Well, you’re not going to have a grandchild…” I said, fighting back the grin off my face.
“W-what…?” Mom whispered, looking distressed. Dad was shocked.
“You’re having two,” I finished, grinning, fighting back the laugh.
“What?!”
“Frank, I’m going to kill you!” Mom cried, Dad still looking shocked.
“Oh my god, that was so funny!” I said, letting my laughter out. Sazzy hit me playfully on the arm, scowling with a grin etched on her lips.
“That was cruel.”
“But funny!” I added, gaining composure. Mom leapt up from her seat, crushing me and Sazzy into a hug.
“Two grandchildren!” she cried, almost shrill. “I’m so happy!”
“Let me hug them!” Dad grumbled, pulling Mom off us then wrapping his arms around us.
“Can we see them now?” he asked, chuckling. Sazzy grinned, passing him the green card again, and he opened it, Mom squinting over his shoulder. Their eyes relaxed on the centre of the first image, their eyes softening.
“Aww, they both look like Frank’s ultrasound,” Mom commented, her head tilted slightly to the side.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing…” Dad added, nodding.
“Is that meant to be a compliment or something…?” I asked Sazzy in a whisper, and she laughed softly.
“I’m not sure. I guess it means that they might look like you,” she whispered back, her free hand touching her stomach unconsciously, “which would be a compliment.”
I smiled at her, placing a hand on her small bump.
“No way, they’ll have to look like you.”
“You idiot, it’s not their decision,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. I grinned, kissing her softly on her lips.

“Frank!” Neil called, slapping my hand then hugging me briefly, and I passed him a beer.
“Where’s the other half?” he asked, his eyes sparkling and his mouth stretched into a mock but obnoxious grin. I rolled my eyes playfully, shrugging.
“She’s upstairs, sleeping. Why?” I asked, one eye squinting in question.
“No reason. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. She not gonna come down and chill?” he asked, sipping on his beer.
“Frank! Neil! Neil, you prick, I’m gonna chop your balls off!” Hambone yelled, bounding down the stairs into the basement, grabbing a beer from the fridge. I laughed, highly amused.
“What did you do?” I asked Neil, curious.
“I’ll tell you what he fucking did – he fucking pissed over my bass!”
I burst out into laughter, beer spewing out of my mouth and all over Neil, who shrieked in surprise.
“You sick fuck!” I cried, still laughing hysterically.
“It’s not funny! I’m not gonna fuckin’ clean it; it’s got Sabatino juice all over it!” Hambone barked, and I could tell he was finding it hard to keep a straight face.
“Ah, man, he fuckin’ jizzed over it too?” I asked; my laugh reduced to an amused grin.
“Probably! You should see it, it’s sittin’ there, in my basement, all fucked over, an-”
“Sorry we’re late!” Tim called, running down the steps to my basement with Shaun followed closely behind him, his skateboard in his hand, his case containing his keyboard slung coolly across his back, like a rucksack.
“Nah, they just got here,” I said, nodding at them.
“What’s up with you, Hambone?” Shaun asked, slinging his skateboard in the corner, pulling off his keyboard and putting it on the ripped-up sofa.
“Neil pissed and jizzed on my bass!”
“Dude, your bass is right there,” Shaun said, as Tim got behind the set of drums, pulling a set of sticks from his jacket pocket.
“No, not that one – the other one, the white one,” Hambone said, sighing.
“Hey, I said I was sorry, but I was drunk and really needed to go!” Neil defended, still wiping at his beer stained top.
“Frank, you got a spare shirt I could borrow?” he asked, pulling off his plain white one.
“Yeah, sure, hang on,” I said, jogging towards the stairs.
“You guys get set up; I’ll be back in a sec!” I called, starting up them.
“Dude, bring wifey down, she can chill,” Shaun said, a grin to his face. I growled, rolling my eyes and continued up the stairs.

I knocked on our bedroom door lightly, then pushing it open slowly, seeing Sazzy sat up in bed, her hair dishevelled, crumpled sheets of paper in her hands.
“Hey. Why aren’t you sleeping?” I asked, stepping in and closing the door behind me. She shrugged, looking back at the papers.
“I was thinking…” she said, her head tilted to the side slightly as she watched me rummaging through the chest of drawers for a shirt.
“Yeah…?” I said, pulling out an old black t-shirt, turning to face her.
“I think we should go for number four.”
Sazzy and I had numbered the six properties that we had been given – we had ruled out numbers one and three, leaving only two, four, five and six. Four was the three-bedroom bungalow.
“Really? Why the bungalow?” I asked, walking over to her, sitting on the bed beside her.
“Yeah, because, look. It’s got a small garden, which is pretty ideal – we’re not exactly gardeners. And if we get a bungalow, we get a basement – with a flat, we won’t. And it has three bedrooms… I think it’s the most ideal. And it’s got a driveway and a small garage…” she added, pointing to the picture of it. I looked at it, nodding.
“Yeah, I see what you mean… now that we’re having twins, we’ll need all the room we can get,” I said, sighing. She touched my hand, lacing her fingers with mine. I smiled at her, pecking her softly on the lips.
“Hey… if you’re not too tired, you can come and chill with us? The guys miss you,” I said, running a hand through her hair.
“Mmm. Okay,” she replied, getting up off the bed and fixing her hair somewhat in the mirror.
“I feel so fat.”
“Sazzy, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant,” I said, walking over to her and hugging her from behind, feeling her hands rest on top of mine. I kissed her neck, and then broke away, an arm still around her.
“Still coming down?”