Forty Six

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CAM POV

"Ow?!"

I grimace in confusion, staring at the deep slice right under the fingers of my left hand. Thorns. It's always the rose thorns—or prickles, whatever you want to call it. Whatever it is has my hand pouring a fresh stream of blood, right back into the Earth. I watch as it drips onto the grass, then sinks beyond the dirt. I focus on it for a moment, intrigued, and then I snap out of it. I take a look at my surroundings for a clue on where that thorn came from, and I see only a single rose laying on the grass beside me. I don't have a rose bush, so I don't know where that came from.

Now slightly creeped out, and very curious, I place my mini shovel at the edge of the planting holes that I'm digging. They're to start up my new, fresh garden for the upcoming spring season. I've only gotten a few in because of my paralyzed arm, but I absolutely refuse any help. Late gardening is my therapy, and it's the perfect time for me to clear my head. Alone. Almost everyday around 7:30, right when the kids are about to go to sleep. I get some time away from everything, and just reflect on how blessed I am with this life. I don't know why I need privacy to reflect on my blessings, but part of me feels like it's because I can't believe that after all we've been through—we've finally made it. Finally made it to peace.

"Anthony," I smile, walking into our home. Our beautiful home. Anthony let me pick. He told me whichever house I wanted, I was gonna get. When the babies were born, I found the perfect home right in Manhattan Beach, Brooklyn. Six bedrooms. Six bathrooms. A large, beautiful yard space, and a backyard space that is so abundant in vines, leaves, flowers, and all kinds of plants. It was perfect, and it was mine—ours.

And speaking of plants, there goes the man of my life sitting on the couch, with rose petals all over his clothes. And though it sounds romantic, the three terrors surrounding him who are ripping the leaves off the stem, then throwing them onto his clothes, make it very obvious that this is everything but romantic. And I still don't know where those roses came from. And Ant doesn't seem to have a clue either.

"Get your kids," He mumbles, shaking his head. It's like perfect timing. At that moment our son Ace hits Ant's arm with the stem, causing the thorn to scrape the skin of his arm, causing a bit of blood to come to the surface. Talk about coincidence.

Anthony grabs the stem from Ace, "Come on, time for bed. All y'all," he says like that was his last straw. I laugh at the look on his face—over it, unimpressed, and tired. I thank God for my husband because he willingly deals with the triplets uncontrollable energy before they go to bed, just so I can catch a break.

"No!" Tamiyah screams.

"No!" Ace copies her.

"Mm!" Takiyah follows, making her own noise that means no. "Mm, Mm, Mm," she repeats, hitting her head against Anthony's chest. I laugh at her, and Anthony can't help himself but to smile a bit.

I grab Takiyah off of Anthony's lap, and hold her in my arms, "Okay Kya, shh, shh, shh," I smile, soothing my almost two year old baby that's extremely upset at her daddy for telling her it's bedtime. I playfully shake my head at Anthony is disappointment.

Because Kya is the way that she is, she jumps out of my arms and runs off to the kitchen, causing Ace and Mya to follow her, all trying to avoid going to bed.

"Same thing every fuckin day," Ant sighs, getting off the couch to go get the kids. I wait a couple of seconds before making my way over there too—really to make him do all the harder work.

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