I CAME HOME WITH MY NEWBORN TWINS TO FIND THE LOCKS CHANGED AND A NOTE.
I had just been released from the hospital’s care, having given birth to my twin daughters, Ella and Sophie. My husband, Derek, was scheduled to collect us, but at the eleventh hour, he phoned.
“Mother is seriously unwell. I must take her to the emergency room. I cannot come get you,” he declared, his voice hurried.
Disappointed, but striving to remain composed, I summoned a taxi.
Upon reaching my residence, I froze. My suitcases and bags were discarded on the doorstep. I approached the entrance, calling out, “Derek?” yet there was no reply.
I attempted my key—it proved useless. The locking mechanisms had been replaced. A sinking feeling washed over me. It was then that I observed the NOTE affixed to one of the bags.My heart pounded as I snatched the note, my eyes scanning the hastily scrawled words.
“Sarah, so sorry, urgent family matter. Mom worse than I thought, she’s admitted. Had to rush. Keys are… inside. Had to secure house, new locks fitted while you were gone for extra safety, thought it best with the babies coming home. So sorry, will call later. Love, Derek.”
Relief washed over me in a dizzying wave, so potent it almost buckled my knees. Security! He’d changed the locks for security! It was actually thoughtful, albeit terribly executed in its timing. “Inside,” the note said. But how to get inside?
Exhaustion tugged at me, the weight of two car seats heavy in my hands, the babies starting to stir. Sophie let out a soft whimper, and Ella followed suit with a louder, more insistent cry. My own emotions threatened to overwhelm me. I needed to get inside, and quickly.
I peered through the letterbox, hoping to glimpse the keys dangling inside, but saw nothing. Frustration mounted. Surely he wouldn’t have just left them loose somewhere? Then, a thought struck me. The spare key! We kept one hidden under a fake rock in the garden, near the rose bush.
With renewed energy, I maneuvered the car seats and bags to the side of the porch and carefully placed the babies in them, ensuring they were still secure. Then, I made my way around to the side garden, my heart pounding a different rhythm now – one of hope and a touch of exasperated amusement at Derek’s chaotic good intentions.
There it was, the fake rock, nestled amongst the rose thorns. I lifted it, and underneath, gleaming in the afternoon sun, was the spare key. A triumphant grin spread across my face.
Within minutes, I was inside. The house was silent, the air still and a little stuffy. I quickly opened the windows, letting in the fresh air. As I carried Ella and Sophie into the living room, a wave of warmth enveloped me – the familiar scent of home, the soft glow of the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. It was good to be back.
I settled the twins in their bassinets, which were thankfully already set up in the living room. They were soon fast asleep, their tiny chests rising and falling in unison. I sank onto the sofa, a wave of weariness washing over me, but this time, it was a peaceful exhaustion.
My phone buzzed. It was Derek.
“Sarah! Thank God you’re home! Are you alright? The note… did you find the spare key?” His voice was a torrent of anxious questions.
“Yes, Derek, I’m home,” I said, a smile in my voice. “And yes, I found the spare key. The new locks are… secure, I’ll give you that.”
He sighed in relief. “Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry about all this. Mom’s still in, but stable. I just panicked about security with you and the girls coming home alone. I thought new locks would be reassuring, but I completely messed up the timing and communication. I’m an idiot.”
I chuckled softly. “You are a bit of an idiot, yes. But a well-meaning one. Don’t worry, we’re all fine. The girls are asleep. Just focus on your mother. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“Thank you, Sarah. You’re amazing. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you all.”
“We love you too, Derek. Take care.”
I hung up, a lingering smile playing on my lips. Derek. He was a whirlwind of good intentions and sometimes questionable execution. But he loved us, and he tried. And sometimes, that was all that mattered.
I looked over at Ella and Sophie, peaceful in their sleep. Home. We were finally home. And despite the chaotic welcome, it felt like the most perfect place in the world to be. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and listened to the soft, rhythmic breathing of my daughters, the most beautiful sound in the world. Everything was going to be alright.