Target used to be Hannah’s comfort place, no rush, no nothing, just calmness. She used to hold mugs in the sunlight and feel how soft the blankets were. Even tho she didn’t buy anything. She could just walk around and feel peaceful. She used to enjoy her visits. Those little choices, those tiny moments that didn’t matter much, but they made it feel like her own quiet world away from everything.
But with her babies along with her, going to Target was a lot of work. She had twins, so the double stroller was hard to push. Its wheels used to get stuck on every crack and shake a lot, which made her arms and back hurt. When she finally saw a special double-wide cart, she felt so happy that she almost cried. She grabbed the cold metal handle and let out a big breath.
Then, people started looking as they leaned over and stared at the babies. She wished that she could disappear down an aisle at that very moment. A lady stopped near the candles. Another person looked at the boys as if she were solving a math problem. Hannah just kept walking while humming to herself and tried to ignore everyone.
The freezer aisle used to feel calm, no drama, no nothing, the kind of place where nothing surprising happened. But that day it was different as she noticed a woman with freshly painted nails was reaching toward the stroller out of nowhere and almost touched Leo’s foot. And the first thought that crossed her mind was He wasn’t a toy for strangers to grab, and she moved the stroller back. Her heart jumped, and she held the handle tighter, keeping her babies secure. She didn’t know why the woman reached out, but she knew one thing: she had to keep Leo safe from everything.
The questions kept coming. Which baby is the good one? How will you pay for two colleges? I’m glad I’m not you! And eventually she stopped answering. She just looked at a jar of pasta sauce as if it were the most important thing in the world. She just needed a few seconds of quiet. In the cereal aisle, Felix spotted a cartoon tiger on a box of Frosted Flakes and laughed, as he laughed full and carefree, that topped it all as she heard that sound that loud and goofy, and even though her arms were killing her, Leo wrapped his tiny hand around her thumb, holding on to it so tight as if she were the only solid thing in the world.
It felt like that hand had always been meant to be there. She held on just as tight. He had cracker crumbs on his chin. Felix was jabbing a finger at a wall of cereal boxes, shouting names. For a second, Hannah nodded, but not from being overwhelmed. But because of happiness and just being a mother to these two. Somehow, all of it—the cart’s wobbling, the squeaking of the stupid wheel, the buzz of other people, everything was perfectly fine, nothing annoyed her. This chaos wasn’t just happening to her. It was hers.
As Leo buried his face in her shoulder, his warm breath was soft on her neck. Felix rolled in the cart, and her hand shot out, grabbing its own, grabbing his arm just before he tipped. Crumbs were everywhere. Squeaky wheels. Little shouts. It was all hitting at once. So she stopped trying to think. She stopped trying to make it all neat and quiet. She just… did. She held on. She adjusted the cart. She wiped the crumbs off Leo’s face. She let Felix point and yell.
The humming lights and the fading music, she noticed nothing. All she saw were her babies. All she felt was their warm weight, their wiggles, their noise. She held them. She steered. She caught them when they wobbled. None of the mess was a problem anymore. It was just… part of their story. She pulled Leo a little closer, nudged Felix back into the seat, and finally just let herself be there. It was chaos. Loud, sticky, beautiful chaos. And instead of fighting it, she just moved with it, letting it all swirl around her.
