Shake the Glitter Off

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It’s snowing in New York. It’s not a rare occurrence; I mean, it happens every year. But every time winter rolls around, I still manage to become completely mesmerized by the tiny snowflakes fluttering gently to Earth. I’ve taken to long strolls around the block, clad in a warm coat and a knit scarf. Sometimes Rye accompanies me, if her job’s schedule permits her, and other times I walk alone with my thoughts. The days slowly drift by and I keep up my exercise with my daily walks.

With a mug of hot chocolate flavored with chili powder in my hands and a loose white shirt that I had broken down and bought two days ago to accommodate my growing stomach, I’m spending my evening before Christmas Eve staring out my window and wishing that this year, Christmas would slip by unnoticed. But Rydan is determined that this year will be different. It’s the first Christmas in several years that I’m spending at home—something that Alyce is always on my case about; she hates the fact that I spend most of my Christmases in strange hotels. But the one year that I’m able to be home, my family deserts me. The irony of the situation is not lost on me.

Rydan was the one who went out and bought a tiny tree that now proudly stands in the corner of our living room, positively groaning under the amount of lights and ornaments we had crowded onto the small branches. She was the one who strung strands of lights and hung up stockings on the fireplace—two for the both of us and two for the babies. And she was the one who placed electric candles in all of the windows and decorated them with festive red velvet ribbons. There are already presents crowded under our tiny tree and to me, with the fireplace running, it truly feels like the Christmas season.

I jump at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Rydan smiling sheepishly. “Shit,” I breath, placing a hand over my racing heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry,” She laughs, taking a step back. “I called your name but you didn’t answer.”

I shrug and take a drink of my lukewarm chocolate, savoring the unique kick the spices create on my taste buds. “It’s okay. What’s up?”

“Phone,” She hands out the portable receiver to the house phone.

I take it from her and glance questioningly down at the black phone. I have no idea who it could be calling me on the landline. Everyone has my mobile number and that’s where they would have had more luck reaching me. I bring it up to my ear and shake my hair out of my eyes. “Hello?”

“Rydan is very nice,” A cheerful German accent reaches my ears and I smile brilliantly, my mood instantly brightening. “I do not think she knew it was me though.”

“Well how many German boys call me?” I ask softly, reaching down and playing with my toe ring absentmindedly.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and I can almost see him wrinkling up his face in mock-thought. “Hopefully not a lot.”

“Just you,” I reassure him as Rye creeps from the room, realizing that I would most likely want to have this conversation in private. “How are you?”

“Cold,” Bill replies smoothly and I can hear him sniffle a bit. “It’s snowing.”

“I know,” I say dreamily, looking out my window once again. “I’m watching it out my window right now. There’s something so magical and peaceful about watching it snow. I think you’d like New York in the winter; it’s gorgeous.”

“Snow is snow. American snow looks just like German snow,” He announces plainly and in the background, I hear the sounds of traffic. Which is odd seeing as it’s 4 AM in Berlin right now. “I would rather it be summer personally. I like the sun and warmth. And not to completely kill the conversation or anything, but it’s really cold. Do you think you could open the door?”

My stomach clenches as I register his words and I nearly spill my drink in my haste to stand up. “What?”

“It’s cold out here and I’d like you to open the door so I can get warm again,” Bill repeats himself cheerfully.

The phone clatters to the floor as I hurriedly shove my drink onto my bookshelf and sprint out of my bedroom. I thunder past Rydan’s bedroom and she turns away from her computer with a worried expression. But I don’t take the time to answer her clueless gaze.

I slide across the wooden floors and almost topple over as I claw desperately at the locks on the front door. It takes me four tries to undo the deadbolt and the chain before I wrench open the heavy door and look out breathlessly.

Bill and Tom are standing in the hallway with red noses and cheeks, suitcases in their hands and identical cheerful smiles dancing on their faces. With them comes the stinging kiss from the cold winter night and the intoxicating scent of snow and the outside.

Bill reaches in and hugs me to him tightly, lifting me off my feet slightly. I return his embrace firmly, subtly smelling in the familiar scent of cigarettes, cologne and hairspray that I had grown addicted to over the summer. I turn my face up and he drops a sweet kiss onto my lips, pulling away so he can get a good look at me.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur into his puffy black winter jacket.

He steps into the house and Tom slips in behind him before closing the door. “I’ve missed you too, Lily. Are you surprised?”

“You have no idea,” I answer, pulling away from him and glancing over at his twin. “Tom!” I hug him tightly, smiling as he squeezes me gently.

He drops an innocent kiss onto my cheek. “Hey Lils, how’re you?”

“Thrilled now that you’re both here,” I reply, stepping back and sighing happily. “What are you doing up here? I thought you had work to do over the holidays.”

“Well Bill decided that you couldn’t spend your first Christmas together apart so he was going to fly out to be with you, as Mum still isn’t too thrilled at the moment. And well, we’ve never had a Christmas apart before, so why start now? I go where Bill goes.” Tom shrugs just as Rydan walks out of her bedroom.

She stops short when she sees the two unfamiliar men and looks over at me curiously. “Hello?”

“Rye, this is Bill and Tom Kaulitz,” I motion to the respective twins before turning to the boys. “This is Rydan Meyer, my best friend.”

They exchange polite greetings before Bill looks down at my outfit and smiles widely. “It’s so nice to finally see you after nearly two weeks and to know that you took the time to dress up for me.”

I glance down at my baggy t-shirt and black boy shorts and shrug. “I didn’t know you were coming—look!” I exclaim suddenly, lifting up my shirt and stopping just under my bra.

My stomach has undergone a huge growth spurt in the two weeks that we’ve been apart. Now, instead of a slight bulge, my stomach has developed into a smooth, hard bubble. The skin is already taut across my belly and my bellybutton is just starting to pop out. In the bright lights of the entranceway in my house, my stomach definitely looks pregnant, not that it couldn’t be easily hidden with loose clothing for the time being.

Bill lets out a quiet gasp and reaches out, his chilly fingertips ghosting over the tight skin carefully. The rings on his fingers lightly press against my belly and I smile happily at the wide, excited look on his face.

“I can already feel them moving,” I whisper as I take his hand and guide it to a spot near my left hip where tiny bubbles are exploding inside of me. “It started about two weeks ago and at first, I had no idea what it was but the doctor says it’s them playing around.”

Bill is silent, holding onto the sides of my bump and running the pads of his thumbs in soothing, small circles. When he looks up at me, his eyes are shining happily. “What does it feel like exactly?”

“Little flutters,” I reply honestly, trying and failing miserably to contain my smile. “It comes and goes, but it’s like tiny bubbles popping. It’s weird and-and exhilarating all at the same time.”

He’s quiet as he stands there in the middle of my hallway, his hands resting on my stomach gently. And he’s staring down at my belly intently, like he can already see the two babies swimming around inside. It’s a private moment between a new father and his unborn children and I know that he’s blown away completely by my sudden transformation during our brief separation.

“Are you excited?” I ask softly, grabbing onto his wrists lightly and breaking the spell.

He nods, wrapping me up in his warm arms and pulling me close. “I don’t want to wait twenty-four more weeks to meet them.”

-x-

“And this,” I walk into my bedroom and immediately pick up the phone that I had left on the floor. The dial tone is beeping obnoxiously so I press the off button and place the portable on my dresser. “Is my bedroom.”

Bill walks in behind me, looking all around him curiously. He places his bags down on the floor and drifts towards my vanity, running his long fingers across the bundle of silk scarves I have draped over my mirror and peeking at the different photographs I have stuffed between the reflective glass and the wooden frame. The majority of the photos are of me and Rye or of my family but the latest ones I’ve tacked up include one of me and Tom and Andreas and one of just me and Tom and one of the twins and I and finally, my personal favorite, one of Bill and I lying in his bed. Propped up in the corner are the latest sonogram photos.

“This is my favorite,” He announces in English, touching the picture of the two of us lightly. “This was the day we spent locked up in my room?”

“Yeah,” I laugh quietly and sink down onto my messy, unmade bed. I wish suddenly that I were a cleaner person, that I picked up my clothes from the floor more often. I feel like my room’s a disaster zone. “It’s my favorite, too.”

I watch as he walks all around the room, picking things up and examining them curiously before returning them to their original spots and moving on. He inhales sharply at the vast amounts of makeup I have stored in the vanity and again when he opens up my shoe cupboard. After completing his nosy tour of my bathroom, he returns to my bedroom and grins.

“I like it. It is very you,” He motions all around him. “I was wondering what your room looked like. Because bedrooms are a reflection of the person themselves,” He explains, unzipping his jacket and wriggling out of it. He drapes it across the back of a chair neatly. “I can see you everywhere in here.”

I smile and stand up from the bed, adjusting my shirt around my tummy. “Well thanks. I like my room, too. I’ll be right back. I have to take my prenatal vitamin before bed.” He nods and I exit the room, crossing the short hallway between my room and the kitchen.

Before I enter the kitchen, I peek into the living room where Tom has been given one of the pull-out sofas for his bedroom. It’s strangely empty and I briefly wonder where he has gone off to before I spy his bags by the sofa and his jacket already hanging off of an armchair in the corner. He can’t be too far then.

I walk into the kitchen and take a prenatal vitamin out of the white prescription bottle before I run myself a glass of water from the purifier. I grab a banana and peel it before swallowing the pill with some help from my water and taking a massive bite from my fruit.

There’s a noise behind me and I turn to see Tom walk into the kitchen, smelling like he’s just gotten out of shower and clad in a fresh pair of clothes. He grins when he sees me standing with my cheeks full of banana and hops up on a bar stool at the counter.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teases, running an open palm over his tightly braided cornrows.

I nod as talking seems to have surpassed me by now and point at the prenatal vitamins above the sink. I touch my stomach and he nods after a moment.

“Well you’ve got to take care of my nephews somehow,” He admits brightly, ignoring my eye roll.

I swallow my mouthful and shake my head. “You don’t know they’re boys.”

“I hope they’re boys,” Tom clarifies, smirking at me. “We need someone to carry on my legacy of the Kaulitz name.”

“Why can’t your children do that?” I ask, tilting my head to one side.

Tom shrugs, his tongue peeking out as he flicks his tongue ring. “Kids and I don’t mix well.”

“You say that now, but it’ll happen one day. I can see you having a baby,” The mental image of Tom chasing a miniature version of himself around a yard is adorable and I catch myself smiling at the thought. I wave off his reply easily before standing up and walking into the living room. “I’m sorry we don’t have an extra bedroom for you to stay in. I have plenty of pillows and blankets and the sofa pulls out into a bed and it’s really comfortable so hopefully you don’t mind and your fans don’t murder me for making you sleep on the couch.”

“Well,” Tom sighs, helping me pull the cushions off of the sofa. “I suppose I can sleep for a few nights on a lumpy sofa mattress. What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger, right?”

“It’s not that bad, I promise,” I protest as we both lean down and grab the black metal rod. After two tugs, the mattress springs out and the legs fall into place before locking together securely.

I open the hope chest and begin to pull out a set of sheets and some blankets before tossing them at Tom and grabbing two spare pillows from the linen closet in the hallway. I return just as he finishes placing the sheets over the mattress.

“Here you go,” I slip the pillows into the cases and toss them at the head of the bed. “Kitchen is that way, help yourself to anything. You obviously know where the bathroom is and you can use the television all you want, my computer is plugged in on the kitchen counter so you can get online if you’d like. Uhh,” I scan the room for anything else I’m missing. “Rye’s brother left his Xbox here when he visited last, that’s in the cupboard there.” I motion lazily and look back up at Tom. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.” He replies, smiling. “I should be good.”

I nod and begin to head for my room where I know Bill is waiting for me. “You know where my room is if you need anything. Just make yourself at home, I don’t care.”

“Okay. Gute nacht,” He calls out softly and I echo his words as I cross the cold tiled floor in the hallway towards my room.

Rye’s light is off so she must already either be in bed or is doing something on her computer so I ignore her door quietly before slipping into my own room. The door to the bathroom is open and I can hear the shower running and Bill singing softly.

I spend the next few moments changing into a pair of loose sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt that accentuates my bump wonderfully. After removing all of my makeup and brushing my hair carefully, I plug my mobile into the charger and crawl into my bed.

Just as I squirt some lotion into my hands, Bill walks out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. His hair is damp and barely touches his shoulders as he kneels down and begins to rummage through his suitcase.

“Your shampoo smells so good,” He comments as he unabashedly drops his towel and slithers into a pair of boxers. “I keep smelling it,” As if to reiterate his point, he brings some of the longer strands of his hair around his face and inhales deeply. “It reminds me of you.”

“And the fact that you’re in my bedroom in my house with me doesn’t remind you of me at all?” I tease as I run my slick hands down my legs to get rid of the extra lotion.

Bill returns the towel to the bathroom before turning off the lights and throwing himself onto my bed. I shriek a bit as I topple dangerously close to the edge and my headboard bangs against the wall. “Bill,” I groan, clutching at his arm as he sprawls out across the mattress and sighs contentedly. “Watch what you’re doing.”

“Your bed is comfortable,” He mumbles, adjusting his head on the pillow and smiling adorably at me. “Much more comfortable than mine.”

I don’t say anything, hesitating just a bit before I reach out and touch his newly cropped hair. I run my fingers through the dampness, smiling as I watch the look of pure contentment seep across Bill’s face.

“How long are you going to be here for?” I ask quietly, not daring to raise my voice much above a whisper. A dreamy spell has been cast over the apartment upon the twins’ arrival and I don’t want to be the one to ruin it with cruel dashes of reality.

“I have to be back in Berlin by Tuesday for a meeting and the band is playing a show on New Years,” He replies quietly, his eyes still shut as he absorbs in my light touch at his scalp. “Our flight leaves Monday afternoon.”

It’s Wednesday now. We only have a few days together before he has to leave again. I won’t admit to him that I wish he could stay for longer, that he could possibly find a way to just hide away with me here for the rest of forever. Because I know that we both have lives that we need to return to as soon as possible.

“Lily,” Bill’s eyes open suddenly and he’s staring up at me, looking incredibly vulnerable and cautious. “Can I ask you a question?”

I nod, my movements freezing as I gaze down at him. “Of course.”

“Have you looked into any adoption agencies?” His voice is so quiet that I have to strain to catch all of the words that fall from his thin lips.

But when I do realize what he’s asked me, a creeping icy sensation settles in the pit of my stomach uncomfortably. It’s almost like an unspoken rule between us that we don’t speak of our decision to give the twins up for adoption. Him bringing it up is almost like a punch to the gut and it leaves me reeling, gasping for air.

“A-a few,” I admit, blinking that familiar burning sensation back from my eyes. “Why?”

He shrugs, shifting about in the bed so he’s pulling away from me before he sits up and crosses his legs fluidly in front of him. “I was just thinking about it, that’s all.”

“What of it? We’re giving the twins up for adoption and we don’t want any contact with them once it’s all over.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize just how detached and emotionally uninvested I sound about my children and I cringe. I really would make an awful mother.

Bill nods, pursing his lips as he struggles to voice his thoughts. “It’s just… where are you going to have them? I mean,” He rushes to amend his sentence. “Are you wanting to have them here in New York or-or back in Germany?”

“I was planning on giving birth here in New York,” I answer softly, staring down at the duvet. For some reason, I can’t quite bring my eyes up to meet his own. I’m not sure why; perhaps I’m frightened of seeing the disappointment? What if giving the twins his German citizenship is really important to him? “Why?”

“No reason,” Bill says quickly, leaning back against the headboard. “Mum just said something to me and I wanted to know if they’ll be American or German. American, I’m assuming since they’ll be born here.”

“Yeah, that’s right. They’ll be American,” I reply, crossing my arms over my stomach and finally looking into his eyes. “Does that bother you?”

He shakes his head, offering me a timid smile. “No, it doesn’t. It’s—it’s open and shut, right? They’re born and we hand them off. We’ll never see them again. It won’t matter what their nationality is if we’re planning on giving them over to an American couple.”

“You know,” I announce suddenly, reaching over and taking his hand up in my own. “If you’re thinking that maybe one day in the future, you’re going to want to see them, it won’t be impossible to track them down.”

“And say what? I’m your father that didn’t want you because I was too young to be a parent and the timing was just all off? I-I wouldn’t want to bring that upon anyone, much less my own kids.” He laughs weakly, squeezing my hand lightly. “If we’re doing this, I want it done for forever.”

“Then it’ll be done for forever,” I echo his words solemnly, trying to see what’s going on in his eyes. But he’s pasted up a solid wall that I can’t see past, so I have no idea what’s really running through his mind at this moment. “Don’t stress out over this. We’re going to get through this together. We’re doing the right thing.”

“I know,” He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And then he leans over and plants a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. “It’s fine.”