Chapter 43: New Arrivals

21 October 1996 - Hospital Road, Leominster, Massachusetts

“Okay, so there’s the head on twin number one...” Marie Nuno muttered while performing Keiko’s four month ultrasound. “Everything’s looking good ... Well, it looks like you’re having at least one boy!” Keiko smiled at Jeff and squeezed his hand. A son! “Okay, let’s track down number two ... There it is! Looking good here ... And you can paint his room blue, also! Another boy! Congratulations!”

Dr. Nuno commented that the weights of both babies would each be slightly lower than that of a single baby, but that there wasn’t anything to be alarmed at from what she could see. Keiko and Jeff thanked her before heading home.

“Jeffrey? Is there something wrong?”

“What? No, Keiko, nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

“Your mood, you are much more subdued than before the appointment. If I did not know you as well as I do I would say you are disappointed. But that is not quite it, is it?”

Jeff sighed. “I’m sorry, Keiko; please don’t think that I’m disappointed that we’re having the boys in any way. It’s just that ... well, part of me was hoping we would be having a little girl as well as a boy.”

Keiko smiled at her husband while putting her hand over his. “You wanted Daddy’s Little Girl.”

“I guess I did.”

“Just because both of our families had two children - myself and Ken, you and Kara - that is no reason we will stop at two as well.” Jeff glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “We will discuss that later.”

“Keiko there is something I would like to discuss now, though: names. You know how we have been saying a boy would be ‘Kenneth Alexander?’” Keiko nodded. “Now that we know both twins are boys, what do you think about ‘Alexander Kenji’ and ‘Ryan Isoroku?’”

Keiko’s eyebrows rose now. “‘Alexander’ and ‘Ryan’ are names which have not appeared for generations, if at all, in our families. I have no objections to them, but the two middle names you have just suggested are clearly of Japanese origin. What of your heritage?”

“Alexander the Great was Greek; Ryan is a common Irish given and family name, Keiko-chan.”

“It has been a while since you called me that, husband,” Keiko smiled. “And the choices of names are well-reasoned. Nicely done.”

“ ... so things probably aren’t set up that differently than how things were at Chauncey.”

“Just the fact that Brophy’s tried to standardize ambulance layouts is more than management at Chauncey ever did,” replied Shawna LeStrange, Jeff’s new partner.

Shawna started a month ago; she’d come over from Chauncey EMS, the current EMS provider for Arlington. She’d spent the last month doing her third-ride time and some remedial training. By coming over before the official transition Shawna would have two months seniority over her former coworkers.

“It sucks that you guys are being painted with the same brush your management’s being hit with right now.”

“Not by anyone here, thankfully. You guys have all been great to me.”

“Just because the chuckleheads in the office over there screwed the pooch doesn’t mean you and your counterparts on the road weren’t good at your jobs. The way I hear it, Arlington would have stuck with Chauncey if the Feds weren’t tearing them apart over suspected Medicare fraud; how many times have we heard that song played around Boston alone? The care the people of that city received was very good, which is why Sean and Seamus are ready to hire so many medics and EMTs from them when the contract switches over. You could have stayed over there without an issue, if you’d wanted to.”

“Arlington was a nice place to work, but I wanted the opportunity to work in a new city. That and my husband and I live on the Lynn/Saugus line; my commute to and from Medford is much easier than to and from Arlington was.”

“As easy as a commute can be around here.”

“Exactly. Jeff, I have to ask you something. I’ve noticed that lots of folks call Mr. Brophy, Junior, ‘Sean.’ You’re the only person I’ve seen, however, who is routinely in his office having coffee with him. You’re also the only person I know of here who refers to Mr. Brophy, Senior, as ‘Seamus.’”

“Sean used to work the road here; from just before Thanksgiving 1993 to Labor Day of last year we were partners. We were each other’s Best Man at our weddings. He’s probably my best friend right now, other than my wife. Seamus worked on me for a couple of years before I felt comfortable calling him ‘Seamus.’ I’d guessed Sean’s secret less than six months after he’d started but didn’t tell a soul outside of my immediate family, and then only one or two in that group. That earned me a good amount of respect in their eyes, as well as trust.”

“What secret?”

“When Sean started here his last name was ‘McNeil.’ Seamus knew he had a son out there somewhere, but Sean’s mother had cut off contact when he was five. Seamus knew where Sean was, roughly, but respected his ex-girlfriend’s wishes and stayed out of their lives. Sean learned who and where his father was and contacted Seamus when he was about fifteen. They rebuilt their relationship and Sean moved up here after getting a business degree at Duke.”

“Sean didn’t say anything nor did Seamus, and they tried to act like they’d just met, but I caught something when I ‘introduced’ him to Seamus on his first day. He didn’t know that I knew until we’d been working together for about five months.”

“Wow. So don’t try to keep any secrets from you?”

“I’m not going to call your husband up and tell him what you’re getting him for Christmas, Shawna, don’t worry about that. Let’s head over to Malden ER and I’ll introduce you to some more of my friends.”

Later in the week they were working together again, this time in Medford; neither had worked there before, but they could both read a map so no one was too worried about them getting lost. In the end it didn’t matter anyway. All of their calls that day were in the section of Medford between the Mystic River and Somerville, with many clustered east of Tufts University. They learned that section of Medford very well.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” quipped the captain of Engine Five; they’d just arrived at the same call as Paramedic Thirty-one, Shawna and Jeff’s truck, for the fifth time in that ten-hour shift.

“Hey, Cap,” called Jeff.

“Am I glad we’re only working a ten-hour day shift today. I’m pretty sure you two would keep us running all night!”

“Only until eleven tonight, Cap. We’re only on a sixteen.”

“Well, thank heaven for small favors,” the captain muttered while they climbed the stairs to the house. “And call me ‘Nick, ‘ Nick DeCosta.”

“Good to meet you, Nick. I’m Jeff Knox; my partner is Shawna LeStrange.”

“This isn’t going to be your regular shift, is it?”

“I’m afraid so, Nick. The Tuesday overnight and Saturday seven to eleven double in Medford every week. Our other double is Monday nights in Malden.”

“Remind me to put in for vacation days when you’re working.”

“Your parents all settled?” Jeff asked Keiko while they readied themselves for bed.

“Yes, thank you, Jeffrey. I am sure they will be quite comfortable in our guest room tonight.”

“I hope they aren’t too upset with us when we surprise my parents and them with the news about the boys.”

“I am sure their happiness will negate any displeasure they might feel. We must tell the four grandparents before the rest of your family tomorrow, however.”

“Yeah, that would be a good choice. We’ll tell them once we’re all at Monica’s house, before all of the family announcements at dinner.”

“That will be a good time to inform them, yes.”

The younger Knox couple and the Takahashis piled into Jeff’s new car the next morning for the ride to Dana and the annual Keiolis Christmas party; Mayumi and Hiro would be in Massachusetts through New Year’s. They arrived in Dana at the same time as Marisa and Joe.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Jeff,” his father answered while Marisa hugged Keiko. His parents exchanged pleasantries with Keiko’s and began to lead them inside.

“Hey, guys, hold up,” Jeff called to them as they walked away.

“What is it, Jeff?” Mayumi asked.

“Yeah, whatever it is can’t wait until we’re inside?” his mother asked. “It’s a little cold out here today.”

“We wish to tell you this in private, Marisa, before the rest of the family learns of this,” Keiko explained.

Looks of worry crossed the mothers’ faces before Keiko handed over a copy of an ultrasound image. “What are these, Keiko?” her mother asked. She studied the images closer. “We know you are having twins, but what is the significance of the ultrasound pictures?”

“We found out in October what the gender of the twins will be; Jeffrey and I wish to share with you the first images of your grandsons before we go inside. May we introduce Alexander Kenji and Ryan Isoroku Knox?”

Both mothers eyes began to water before they hugged their children tight. The grandfathers shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulders.

“Nicely done, Keiko, Jeff,” Hiro said. “You’ve blended your two heritages well with your choices for the boys’ names.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, Hiro,” Joe added. “Now, can we go inside before we ‘blend’ into the snowbank?”

“So, Mr. Knox? What brings you into the dojo?”

“I studied karate in high school and I’ve been been back at it for about three years, since I reconnected with my wife in ‘94. We spar together at home, or at least we did before we learned she was pregnant in August.”

“Your wife studies karate as well I trust? Sparring with an untrained person could be dangerous. Forgive me for asking; you do seem like a person who would take that into consideration before starting such a thing.”

“No need to apologize, sir; I understand your concern. She has been studying karate for most of her life; she’s second-dan with instructor training. Once the twins are born Keiko wants to begin training here also. She feels she’s been stagnating, her words, and wishes to continue towards third-dan and higher.”

“As someone opening a new dojo I would welcome her to visit. She could see if she’d feel comfortable training here; we could even discuss her being an instructor as well. You are expecting twins?” Jeff nodded. “Congratulations. May I ask when she is due?”

“It looks like the middle of March at this point.”

“So, only a couple of months away. One baby can be a significant change to a family; twins will be much more so. Will you be able to devote enough time here? How often have you been training at home?”

“We’d been doing our forms together every morning before Keiko heads to work until my schedule changed in December. My current schedule has me working two seven a.m. to eleven p.m. double shifts and one eight-hour shift per week; I do my forms with Keiko before she leaves for work when our schedules allow. She’s getting to the point where her balance is being affected; I’ve started doing forms by myself but need to get back to training also. Depending on the class schedule here I see myself training two to three times a week, minimum.”

“Police officer?”

“Paramedic.”

“Since I just opened at the beginning of the year and haven’t yet had many people through, we could tailor a schedule around yours to a degree. That may change in the future if more students sign up and ask for classes later, depending on your skill level. What are you ranked now?”

“I was high blue, nearing green, at my previous dojo near Boston; blue was middle of the pack there and green was just above that. In our workouts together Keiko and I were focusing on my flexibility and speed.”

“Conditioning?”

“I’d say it’s good.”

“I have to test that and your karate ability to rank you properly here.”

“My schedule today is wide open, if you have the time.”

“How about now?”

“Let’s do it. I brought my gi with me.”

“Go ahead and change in the bathroom, then warm up. Let me know when you are ready.”

Jeff nodded. He emerged from the bathroom minutes later. Bowing to the mat before he stepped onto it he quickly began his stretches. Jeff surprised Sensei Doug when he began doing push-ups on closed fists; Doug’s master at his old dojo had the beginners do push-ups in that manner to strengthen their wrists. He watched Jeff do one hundred push-ups like that before switching to spread-hands and doing another hundred. Doug watched Jeff do a similar number of sit-ups.

“How many a day?” he asked Jeff when he’d finished.

“Anywhere between six to eight hundred a day of each on my days off. Then the stretches, kata, weight work, six-mile interval run...”

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Occasionally,” Jeff chuckled. “I’m guessing that answer will change to ‘no’ once the boys are born.”

“Would you like a few minutes to rest before we start the karate test?”

“No, I’m good.”

Doug started slow then ramped up the speed while they sparred. Jeff found himself anticipating many of Sensei’s strikes and able to keep up with the increasing speed. The speed of the strikes leveled off while the attacks continued to change. Eventually Sensei slipped a blow past Jeff’s defenses and stuck him in the chest. Sensei stepped back after landing the punch and signaled it was time to stop.

“You said you were about to test for green when you and your wife moved?”

“Yes.”

Sensei nodded. “Wait here.” A minute later he returned from the office. “Remove your blue belt, please.” Jeff did so and Sensei tied a brown belt in its place. “Whatever your wife has been teaching you is working. I pushed you right to the edge of my speed and you kept up. Hell it felt like you could have gone faster, too. I would very much like to have you study here; I’d very much like to have your wife teach here when she’s able, and you too when you earn your black belt. You’ll see a slowdown in your progress now that you’re not training every day. That’s normal so don’t be concerned but, somehow, I doubt your progress will suffer as much as you’re thinking.”

Shawna and Jeff ate their lunches in the front seat of Paramedic Thirty-one one late-February afternoon. They’d done two calls so far that shift - routine, low-priority emergencies - which had them out of the station early and were now looking out over the Mystic River while they ate. Even less than five miles from Boston there were plenty of places you could go, forget where you were and relax.

Jeff tried to take his time eating his steak tip grinder, but Shawna shook her head at the speed with which it disappeared. She picked slowly at the chicken Caesar salad she’d been eating for the past twenty minutes; in that time Jeff consumed a bag of chips, a small order of french fries, half his soda and three-quarters of his sandwich.

“I have absolutely no idea why you don’t weigh four hundred pounds the way you eat,” she said to him.

“And how do I eat?”

“Constantly.”

“You know I work out a little, right?”

“When we’re working, yes, ‘a little.’ When you’re off it’s ‘a lot.’” Jeff gave her a look before taking a big bite and smiling at her. She shook her head again. “You’re worse than my three year-old!” she lamented while wiping his face with a napkin; the juices from the steak tips were all over his cheeks. “Your wife must have the patience of a saint!”

“And, because I work with you, I have... ?”

“You’ll have my foot connecting with your backside if you don’t watch out!”