When Lindsey got home, he greeted his wife with a kiss, scooping up his youngest daughter who was sat in her lap. He spun around with his only golden haired child, Stevie looking on in horror. Her pulse quickened as she thought up the most awful consequences for such horseplay. He could easily drop her, or she could slip out of his hands...she shuddered at the thought. Finally, he flopped onto the couch with Iris in his arms, out of breath. The little girl was still giggling like mad, putting her hands on his chest and hopping up and down.

"A-den, a-den!" Iris urged and he blew out an exhausted breath.

"I think you might be getting too big for me to do that!" he told her and she shook her head, bouncing on him again. He grunted, plopping her down next to him on the dark grey couch cushion. "Or maybe I'm out of shape?" he heard a sharp intake of breath and looked at Stevie. She bit her lip to conceal a smile as she absentmindedly rubbed her belly feeling movements from beneath the thin nightgown and robe she wore. "What?"

"Well, you have been eating all of my pregnancy cravings lately."

"So?" She poked his softening middle and he chuckled. "I guess I need to head back to the gym. I haven't gone in weeks. Work has been crazy, your schedule has been insane, the kids are getting really involved in extracurricular activities and I haven't had the time or energy. Besides, I enjoy eating your cravings. Most of them are very good."

"Most?" She echoed, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm not really into pickles and brownies," he told her and she gasped, pressing a hand to her blossoming chest.

"Pickles and brownies are good!" She argued.

"Not together, Steph. That's where I draw the line." he told her with utmost certainty, swiftly drawing an imaginary line in the air with his hands.

"Oh really?" He nodded, strong in his conviction over something so trivial as dessert. "Fine, more for me." She planted her feet and counted to three under her breath, pulling herself up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" he asked, knowing it would take something pretty important for her to want to move from a comfortable spot. She had been experiencing a lot of back pain, leg cramps and general aches for a few weeks now. This pregnancy seemed to be harder than their first set of twins, but it was almost seventeen years ago.

"You made me hungry! I can't just talk about food, Linds, I have to eat." He laughed and she shot him a look. "No jokes," she said, pointing her finger.

"No jokes. I won't say a word. You're doing all the hard work, you can eat whatever your little heart desires."

"You're the best husband in the world!," she gushed dramatically, slipping into the kitchen for a snack.

Lindsey turned on the tv and ran the channels. Even with their extensive cable package, there seemed to be nothing on. He sighed, leaving it on a cartoon for Iris. Her big brown eyes lit up and he stroked her hair as she cuddled into his side.

"Tanks, daddy," she said and he smiled.

"You're welcome, baby girl."

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Stevie did what she did best these days. She opened up every carton of ice cream they had accumulated with her changing cravings and made herself a hearty sundae. She knew it wasn't healthy but it was all she wanted. She hadn't told Lindsey about her lingering waves of nausea or aversions. Her doctor put her on a supplemental vitamin to use in conjunction with her prenatal to make up for this. She was being monitored more closely than with their first set of twins.

"Seventeen years makes a huge difference, doesn't it?," she asked the babies in her womb, smoothing a hand over the ever-growing swell of her stomach. She licked the back of her spoon, taste-testing her creation before drizzling the caramel sauce. She popped the lids back on and shoved them into the freezer, not having the patience to jigsaw them as skillfully as Callie had. She found the task daunting and tiresome, and her stomach was now ruling every action. "Mmm," she moaned, taking a bite of her creation as she entered the living room. Iris jumped up and made room for her mother by her father's side and both of her parents smiled at her.

"And what kind of Frankenstein creation is that?" Lindsey asked as he laid eyes on the bowl from which his wife was enthusiastically eating.

"It's ice cream," she said nonchalantly but peering back into her bowl, her expression changed. "Oh no, I forgot the ruffled potato chips! Would you be a dear, Linds?" She bat her eyelashes and he grimaced at the thought of her putting chips on what looked like a mix of pistachio, raspberry swirl, green tea and neopolitan ice cream. "Please?"

"Alright, any other requests?" he asked and when her eyes lit up, he knew that was the wrong question to ask. Facepalm.

"Ooh! The jar of olives and maybe a couple of cherries?"

"Sure," he replied tightly. He did not want to think about the disgusting mixture. He didn't remember her cravings being so insane last time. Well, except for the time she put ketchup on a chocolate chip cookie, but he tried to block out that memory all together. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He pulled out the requested items and returned as quickly as possible. He presented the jar of olives and the jar of maraschino cherries. "Here, babe."

"The chips," she reminded him. "Also, can we order pizza?"

"Pizza?" he asked and she nodded. "Well, at least Dylan will be thrilled. Speaking of, is he still in his room?"

"Yep, he's been shut in there almost all day," Stevie shielded her eyes from Lindsey and he drew in a breath.

"Are you okay, Steph?" Lindsey asked. Aside from the wild cravings, she also had out of control mood swings. She was rarely angry but she would often go from fine to crying and the reason could be anything. The animals on the ASPCA commercial, a tiny article of clothing purchased for the babies, the realization that they 'made people out of pure love', as she put it one particular evening in bed, ruining his chances of making love to his wife.

"I remember when he used to come to me to play everyday. He would ask me to play trucks with him or we would color together," she wept. "My little boy is growing into a man. I'm losing Dylan." She sniffled, her breath shaky and erratic. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and Iris instinctively wrapped her little arms around her mother the best she could.

"Play with me, mama?" Iris asked and Stevie stroked her daughter's hair, kissing her forehead.

"You're so sweet. You're growing up so fast and you're so considerate and kind." The little girl beamed, kissing her mother's nose. "I love you so much. It seems like only yesterday we were one."

Lindsey rolled his eyes, not because he thought it was ridiculous but because he knew this episode would last a while. Her horrid mix of ice cream was melting and the jars had condensation on the outside. It was sure to leave a ring on the coffee table and Stevie would probably cry about that too.

"I'm going to get your chips. Be thinking about the toppings you want on your pizza." She nodded, sniffling and Lindsey exhaled heavily. He grabbed the bag of chips from the cabinet and opened it carefully so she wouldn't hear the crinkling of the plastic. Stevie was very adamant about healthy food being the focus of their diet and she worked hard to make sure all of her children thoroughly enjoyed fruits and vegetables and drank water rather than soda and other fizzy drinks. When she was pregnant, that went out the window. She tried her best to stay healthy. She ate salads and went for walks. She packed her lunch rather than going out when she was working but she would slip sometimes. Her cravings were never healthy and Lindsey delighted in seeing the Lay's chips and snack cakes fill one small cabinet. It was a treasure trove of sugary confections and he would partake here and there.

He put the clip back on the bag and decided she would have had ample time to collect herself. He returned and the bowl was scraped clean. She had inhaled half a jar of olives, her fingertips were stained red from the cherry juice and he looked at the clock. He couldn't have been gone long. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and she giggled. "Can I have those?" She asked, pointing to the bag in his hands.

"Sure," he said, his mind still working to calculate how much time it would take to eat all of that versus how long he was gone.

"Oh, and I think we should do pepperoni, onions, peppers, olives and extra cheese. Or we could just make it a supreme?" Lindsey's eyes glazed over and Stevie called his name. "Honey, did you hear me? Also, why don't we order one of those big salads with extra dressing."

"What, no wings?" Lindsey asked, snapping himself out of his semi-catatonic state.

"I forgot about wings!"

"This is going to cost a fortune!" he thought to himself but when he looked up at his wife, he realized quite quickly he said it aloud. "But I don't mind," he said, putting his hands up in defense. 

"Should I dial it back?" Her bottom lip quivered and he shook his head.

"No, no. It's perfectly fine. You have a healthy appetite and that's nothing to be ashamed about. You're perfect." He kissed the top of her head and she smiled. He had dodged a bullet. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to order, chuckling to himself as he walked into the kitchen, thinking he should put the number on speed dial. Was that a thing anymore?

Once food was ordered, Lindsey called up the stairs for Dylan. He took his sweet time coming down, his nose buried in his phone. This time, Lindsey could tell he was playing a game. His eyes were focused and his thumbs were working furiously to beat the opponent. At least he wasn't texting a girl.

Stevie and Iris had settled down on the couch with Lindsey pressed against the arm on the other side while Dylan flung himself into a chair. Lindsey made a note to look up sectional options at IKEA, Burrow or some other furniture company online because their family was outgrowing the so-called oversized sofa they had purchased years before. Just as the older Buckingham had gotten comfortable, the door bell rang.

"Pizza already?" Lindsey wondered aloud.

"It better be. I'm starving!" Stevie exclaimed. He tried not to make a face as he hoisted himself off the couch. How could she be starving when she just ate?

Lindsey jogged to the door when the bell rang again. He flung the door open and was met by a police officer and his teenage daughter, Callie. Shame was written all over her.

"Is this one yours?" The tall, broad built Officer asked.