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The sound of T.J.’s baby gym tinkled into the kitchen as I set out another bucket of champagne amongst the bustling of the caterers. The house smelled of roasted tomatoes and alfredo and garlic bread, making my stomach grumble in anticipation of dinner. Monica sat on the floor next to T.J., tickling his belly gently with her fingers.
We had planned this party a few weeks ago, once we got the go-ahead from the doctor to introduce T.J. to extended family and friends. He had only met Heart and Erica, who were both equally obsessed with him. I had never seen my sister act so in love with someone. At least she picked a good guy.
I was eager for my friends and colleagues to meet him, but anxious about him meeting my parents, especially my father. Things had been rocky between us for the past three months, though we had been in communication since he had sent a gift to the hospital. We had kept our phone calls brief, and mostly about T.J. Sometimes about business. He seemed to actually be showing an interest in my AI company, as it was something completely foreign to him.
My mother had profusely apologized over the phone after what happened with Veronica. She said she had no idea how far things had gone and that Veronica’s feelings for me were actually dangerous. She said she would never have invited her to things, knowing so. She was just trying to do what she thought would make me happy. I knew her intentions were pure, but I was just glad Veronica was out of all our lives now.
The intercom next to the elevator trilled before the receptionist’s voice came through.
“Mr. Gunner? Your guests are arriving.”
I walked over and pressed the button on the system we had installed after everything with Veronica.
“Thank you. Send them up.”
Security had been tightened in the building, even though I knew she was upstate at the same mental hospital she’d been at for months. Plus, though we knew Monica’s stalker was on parole, thanks to my attorney digging up information, and seemed to be staying away, now that I had come so close to losing both her and the baby, I wasn’t taking any chances.
“You ready for this?” asked Monica, picking up T.J. and cradling him in her arms as she walked toward me.
I let out a breath. “I think so.”
She gave me a reassuring nod, just as the elevators dinged and the doors opened to reveal my sister. I let out a small sigh of relief that it wasn’t the rest of my family yet. Her eyes landed on T.J., and she practically ignored me and Monica, who was holding him.
“Hello, little one,” she cooed, bending down and nuzzling him. “And how is my little T.J. today? Are you ready to meet everyone?”
“Hello to you, too,” I said in amusement.
“Oh, right. Hey, brother.” She stood up and gave me a hug. “Hey, Monica.”
Monica laughed as Erica embraced her too.
The rest of the guests started to show up, a few old colleagues, mostly new ones who didn’t work for my father, Heart and Daniel, Alex Rodgers, Monica’s parents, her old agent, her editor, some colleagues from her newspaper. We were all enjoying some chilled glasses of champagne at the high-top cocktail tables that surrounded our living room, T.J. in the center of it all as Monica and I traded holding him.
He really was a good baby, but I was sure all parents said that. In the three months of his life, he was just curious about everything, always looking around and listening to his mom and I talk. We still had a few tiring nights, but for the most part, he was now only waking up around once a night for Monica to nurse him. I always got up with her, sitting on the floor of his nursery as she rocked him back to sleep in the plush glider we had picked out together.
Monica and I made a great team, but I had to hand it to her. She was a brilliant mother. She was so attentive and loving, even when balancing her writing career. She was able to work from home most days, but I would always help out on days she had to go in to the newspaper. We switched off making dinners and doing nightly routines with T.J. Same with breakfasts and morning routines. I felt like we had really found our groove as parents, and it had made me love her even more.
T.J. was starting to look more and more like both of us. Heart said he was a perfect combination of Monica and me, as if we had both given equal parts. I could see the green of my eyes starting to come through the gray, and his button nose was clearly Monica’s. He was perfect in every way.
As I looked down at him in this crowd of people who knew me well, and probably never saw this on their Bingo card, I realized how much I loved being a father. All the fears I once had about screwing it up had subsided because of the love I had for my son. Even though he was only a few months old, I knew I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
I wanted him to make his own happiness, by making his own choices in life, whatever they may be. Of course, I wanted to guide him, but I would never want him to feel the pressure my father put on me. That pressure had started at a young age. Sometimes I wondered if I had much of a childhood at all, at least one free of expectations and pressures to do certain sports or join certain clubs, all ones that my father had done.
I knew that resenting my father for his choices would only poison me in the end, which was why I had tried my best to rise above all of it. Plus, I wanted T.J. to know his grandfather. At least he had taught me one thing. To be different.
Just then, the elevator doors dinged and in walked my father, looking a little unsure for probably the first time he had ever entered a room. There was no boisterous presence, no booming voice, just a quiet meekness that I hadn’t expected. I hadn’t seen him since that day in my office. My mother was draped on his arm, and her eyes found me, already welling up with tears. She tugged my father to follow her, and soon they stood before me, taking in their bundle of a grandson who lay in my arms.
“Oh,” my mother gasped, tears already flowing.
My father stayed still, quietly taking in his grandson for a minute.
“May I?” he whispered, his voice quiet and strained.
“Of course.” I nodded and carefully handed him T.J.
My father held him awkwardly at first, as if he wasn’t sure what to do, but then he found a position he was comfortable in, and his unsureness seemed to melt away. He swayed T.J. gently, a smile spreading across his lips and a tear rolling down his cheek. My heart felt like it stopped. I had never, not once in all my life, seen my father cry, yet here he was.
“I’ll let you two have a moment,” I said, putting my hand on his back. I kissed my mother on the cheek. They got settled on the couch with their grandson.