The bills were piling up. Literally. On his way to the site this morning, making yet another delivery of fertilizer to the good townspeople of Forks who felt that perfect landscaping was worth a shitload of money and a was necessity of life, Sam stopped by the post office.

Muttering some unintelligible string of curses under his breath as he flipped through the pile, Sam tried to remember how many overdue bills there were sitting on the counter at home. He was, admittedly, the one who had encouraged Emily to quit her job and stay home with the girls. Better than day care with someone they didn't know right? He tugged on the ends of his hair.

He had no idea how much money it would take to raise these kids, to support Emily. Sure, they had budgeted, and made lists, but when Violet suddenly woke up with a fever just over 100°, and the kids down the street were home with the flu, he didn't take any chances. Emily stayed home – watching Hannah like a hawk – and Sam had rushed Violet to the Forks ER, where he knew he was likely to find the best doctor around. Sure enough, Dr. Vamp was there, and Sam could relax. But peace and health came at a high price, and the lawn care job didn't exactly have prime health care benefits. They had already maxed out one credit card, and were well on their way to doing the same with the next one.

But he could have handled it if it were just money problems. Instead, he had Jared and Paul at his throat, because the news had come out that he was considering stepping down as Alpha. There wasn't a whole lot of need to have an Alpha anymore, what with the royal bloodsuckers deterred and all, but they still had the tradition. If Sam stepped down – stopped phasing – Jake would become Alpha of both packs again. While most of the animosity had died down since Jake had imprinted on Nessie, Paul and Jared were still fiercely loyal to Sam, and threatened to leave the pack as well. Sam didn't want to cause the destruction of the entire family, he just wanted to spend time with his girls, and age with his wife.

On top of that, he wasn't sleeping. Neither, of course, was Emily, but she didn't have to go to work in the morning. The girls had recently decided that they didn't like their sleep schedule, and were going to rebel.

He sighed.

Work.

As much as he hated it, they needed some source of meager income. The bills were piling up.

And we were back to square one.

#

Sam spent the day in the sticky air of the coast, aerating the yard of a person who could afford it. He wished they could see his lawn. Covered in large patched of dirt from where the boys liked to park their cars on the lawn. The flowers Emily had planted in the spring had long since died, and left unsightly patches of dead greenery all along the front of the porch. He couldn't have cared less. With twins – who were constantly wanting to be held, fed, or were crying – he and Emily didn't have time for sex, let alone yard work. It was one other thing that would just have to wait.

Thankfully, today was pay day and Sam stopped by the office before going home to pick up his check. He had pulled a lot of overtime this week in preparation for Christmas, which seemed like it was just around the corner. Still, he grimaced when he pulled out the check. $935. That was less than the credit card bill alone. Plus, the truck was empty again and diesel wasn't cheap these days. Sam sighed again, noticing how often he was whining lately. He tried not to complain around Emily, because he knew that she'd just insist on getting her job back, and then who would watch the twins? But, even then, he had plenty of time to complain when he was away from home.

As he pulled the truck into the driveway, he turned the engine off but left the doors shut. He needed a minute. Inhaling deeply, shaking the tension from his shoulders, and smiling wide, Sam slid off the seat and opened the front door of the house. "I'm home!" he called, shutting the door quickly and staying off the chill. Emily had a fire going in the living room, her fuzzy-socked covered feet propped up on the ottoman, the TV on mute in the background, and a baby attached to each breast. The whole house smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

"Hey," she replied softly, a smile turning up half of her mouth. "We missed you."

Making his way over to the couch quickly, Sam bent to press a kiss to Emily's scars and then her lips. She tasted like vanilla – leftovers, no doubt, from her baking excursion. He gently touched Violet's head, and then Hannah's, greeting them each individually. They cooed, content with their meal.

"Long day?" Emily inquired. "You look exhausted."

Sam nodded, and then, as cheerfully as possible, held up the pay check. "But it was pay day."

Emily laughed, and then pointed to the counter. "I made you cookies."

He hurried over to the counter and proceeded to shove a few in his mouth. The chocolate was still melted, she had timed them up with his arrival. "God, I love you," he groaned.

She chuckled, warm and glowing, so much like a mother already. "I'm glad. Dinner's in the oven, almost ready."

Sam, taking another handful of cookies, plopped down on the couch beside her. Hannah was finishing up, and Emily passed her over to Sam. He burped Hannah and she burped Violet, while they turned up the volume at watched the news. Pretty soon, his hand found hers on the couch, and he squeezed her fingers.

#

Eventually the show ended, and they put the girls in swings to nap during dinner. Sam pulled Emily in for one more kiss before they sat down and ate, discussing the ins and outs of their days. It was nothing out the ordinary, nothing exciting, nothing strange. Just them, together. A family.

It wasn't until he sat down at the table with the checkbook and the receipts, while Emily gave the twins a bath in the tub they put over the sink that he realized it. This was a marriage; it wasn't easy and it wasn't always fun. There wasn't always – okay, hardly ever – good sex, and more often than not, the babies cried just as you had fallen asleep. But when he came home, tired and fed up, Emily was there with their children, and she had been thinking of him. They supported each other, and they were going to make this work. Whether through overtime or chocolate chips cookies, they were working for the other.

Sam dropped the pen and went and stood behind Emily at the kitchen sink. "Need some help?"

Looking back over her shoulder to see his face, she handed him a washcloth. "Always," she joked. "And after, we can work on those bills."

"Sounds good," he said, lathering up Violet's pudgy tummy.

Emily held out one soapy hand for a fist bump, and Sam, throwing his head back with laughter, met it with one of his own, their rings meeting in the middle and sending suds and bubbles flying.