Carolyn Pierce sat in her office chair nursing Paul. Bill was changing John on what used to be her desk and was now the boys' changing table. It was Sunday morning, and they were -- for the moment -- ahead of schedule. Still, as it was the day for the boys' baptism, they really had to get to church on time. That put some stress on her.

"Are you done?" she asked Paul, "or do you think you're merely taking a break? I've got news for you. You're done." Bill, hearing her and finished himself, pivoted. He took Paul from her, pivoted again, laid him in the middle of the desk, picked up John, pivoted a third time, and delivered him to her. While he was doing that, she put in a pad and latched the left side of her nursing bra, and opened the right. John rooted for that nipple and started to suck as though they'd been depriving him.

A mother nursing her child was entitled to rest in total contentment. Absolutely nothing and nobody took precedence, and she was entitled to tell them so. But a mother nursing one of her twins didn't have that luxury. At least Bill was here. He'd deal with Paul while she was dealing with John.

When she had told him that she'd nurse the baby and showed him the studies that this was best for the child, he'd sworn he would support her actions and take up any slack. And, she would have to admit, he did his best. He might curse when she elbowed him at night to answer the crying, but he answered it. And he didn't curse her. He never suggested that she should get up instead of him. But, as often as not, one boy's crying would become a duet; both parents would have to be up.

And Bill spent fifty hours away from home between the work and the commute -- more in busy weeks or when the EL broke down. If the twins could keep two parents occupied, they could keep one parent frantic.

This morning, though, there were two parents. They ate breakfast in shifts. The kids were fed, changed and dressed. Then John was changed again and dressed in another outfit which hadn't had any yellow shit leaked into it. She had expressed two bottles the previous night which they brought with them. They actually got to church before the choir was due to climb from the basement into the choir loft. The choir all gathered around the kids in their carriers. Most of those who were already seated in the pews came down to join them.

"Wasn't it clever of her to have twins?" Sharon asked. "Now, when Bill is holding a baby, she has one to hold herself." She didn't feel clever. She felt like a milch cow, a sleep-deprived milch cow.

"I don't think I had anything to do with their being twins. I think that's Bill's fault."

"Fault?" Gladys asked. "They're adorable." Well, if she thought they were so cute, she could change them. "But does one parent determine it? Bruce?" Bruce Patterson, when he wasn't being a bass, was a professor of biology. He was the choir's resident expert on all things biological.

"Well, really, it's the wrong family -- not the Pierces, Mammalia." Well she was definitely a mammal these days. "I'm a herp. Lizard females lay eggs and any males in the vicinity fertilize them externally." Right now, that sounded like a great idea. No nine months of clumsiness. "Are they identical or fraternal?" Couldn't he tell them apart. Males!

"Fraternal."

"Then, I'm afraid, you can't put the blame on Bill. Fraternal twins come from two separate ova. The female -- you -- produces two ova the same month." He was taking Bill's side, just as you'd expect from a man.

"Now!" Miss Armbruster said, and the choir obediently filed up the stairs into the choir loft. She and Bill got into a pew near the front. Soon, the prelude sounded through the sanctuary.

If they didn't pay particular attention to the sermon, if she stayed seated once when the congregation rose for a hymn, they had their priorities. Finally, at the end of the service, they were called down front. She and Bill had first thought to ask the Hagopians to be god parents. When they found they would have twins, they'd decided on two sets of godparents. So there were six of them standing down in front of Reverend Bob Lawrence. The ritual wasn't all that long, and she'd heard it all before.

Dan Hagopian and Nancy Hashimoto stood forward while Reverend Lawrence said, "John Maynard, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the son, and of the Holy Ghost." At the touch of the water, John started crying. Not to be neglected, Paul joined in. So he was already crying when Gladys and Eric Stewart stepped forward. "Paul Anthony, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the son, and of the Holy Ghost," said Reverend Lawrence cooly. He'd probably seen everything happen during baptisms. When the water splashed his head, Paul was as startled as his brother had been. He stopped crying for a second. When he resumed, his sobs were much quieter.

Back in their pew, the ceremony ended, she gave each the bottle she'd saved for this. The crying, however, had started her breasts leaking. Even so, they couldn't get out after the services until everybody had at least looked at the babies in their carriers. Dan took Paul's carrier, as Bill had gone for the car.

"Look, am I leaking?" she asked him.

"No. Don't worry. Why worry, anyway?"

"They'll talk about me."

"Not within hearing of any mother in this church. Not twice, anyway. Gladys was saying that she didn't know how you could do it. One was more than she could handle, at times. And she bottle fed. Y'know, there is one disadvantage to being married to Bill, that I'll bet you didn't foresee. I'll admit that I didn't."

"What could that be? I'll tell you, he's the least demanding -- no! the only undemanding -- male in my household these days."

"Yeah, but anybody criticizing babies or their parents had to make sure that Bill Pierce didn't hear them. He'd still be protective, but he's one of the parents this time. He's being good, then?"

"Amazingly good. For all my criticisms of Bill, and I don't take any of them back, he'll do anything he can once he's home. The other night -- Wednesday? I lose track -- anyway, he brought pizza home, dumped it in the kitchen, stripped to shirt sleeves in the dining room, and came into the kids' room where I was trying to cope. We diapered side by side until they were satisfied. Then he asked me, 'Did you have lunch?' I had, and told him so. It seemed that I had cleared my lunch dishes off the kitchen table. The boys had been both sleeping for once. Anyway, he'd never mentioned my leaving lunch dishes on the table 'til dinner time -- not once. The only reason he mentioned it then was that he was afraid I hadn't eaten."

"He's being good?"

"He is, indeed. And putting up with everything."

"Well, he gets to escape." And so he did. But, nevertheless, Bill was behaving most admirably. Especially since the doctor had forbidden sex at this time -- not that she was going to mention that to Dan. (Not that it would surprise Dan, a father of two.) Bill got out of the car as they got close. He opened the back door. She got in with John and attached his carrier to the seat belt. Dan lifted the other carrier.

"Be good for Mama, John," he said. Then he kissed Paul's forehead. Apparently, Dan couldn't tell them apart, either. They drove away with the boys quiet, for once. They seemed to enjoy the motion of the car.

Having had bottles during the service, the boys weren't too hungry right then. She fed them, anyway. Her breasts having begun leaking when they cried. Their father's sons, they found somewhere to put it. Bill made lunch, beef stew out of a can. His willingness to do housework hadn't turned him into a gourmet chef. But he interrupted his kitchen chores to change Paul when he cried. They both slept through their parent' lunch. Maybe, just maybe, they were getting into a pattern of sleeping at the same times.

"I love you," she told him when he got up to do the dishes.

"I love you, too. And I love them, and -- really, you know -- you love them, too." Well, now that they were asleep, maybe she did.