Page 17

Evan

“ S ay something ,” I come just short of begging. “Please, baby.”

Baby . That word —that endearment— feels a little more loaded now.

“You don’t think that’s moving too fast?” Jay eventually asks me, sounding just as blindsided as he looks.

“Honestly? It is. But hear me out,” I rush to add, wanting to smooth away the furrows in his handsome brow, “I’ve been thinking about this all day. And, even if it is too fast, I can’t see myself settling down with anyone else. I…I wouldn’t plan to have kids other than Mia herself, but I think…I mean, with you , I’d…I’d want that. Because that baby would be a tiny bit you, too. And Mia herself is awesome and I’ve really been overthinking this.” I finish with an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.

James slumps against the back of the couch, blinking at me with a stunned expression. “Wow. That’s…” he clears his throat. “That’s intense, Ev. Not necessarily in a bad way, just…well, it’s a lot. And babies are…” He trails off again and licks his lips. “They test you, you know? Like, I know I raised Mia by myself, but I know so many couples who struggled to stay together under the pressure of having no sleep and all the other baby-related stress and I…I’m selfish, Evan. I don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s not selfish,” I assure him. I shuffle in close to his side and wrap my arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “You’ve done the baby thing before, and if it’s not something you ever want to do again, I’m good with that. I just…I just wanted to put the option out there. Let you know it’s something we can consider. Y’know, if it comes to it.”

His answering nod is slow. I know him. I know that he’s processing the information, letting it sink in. “This is so messed up,” he mutters and scrubs his palm over his face. “She’s sixteen .”

“Yeah, and I lost my virginity at fifteen,” I tell him.

“Don’t remind me,” he huffs. “I was jealous for weeks.”

A smirk curls my lips and I can’t resist asking, “Of me? Or of her?”

“Shut up,” he snorts and headbutts my shoulder. Then he sighs. “A bit of both, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re never letting go of my childhood crush on you, are you?”

“Not on your life.”

***

The next morning is tense in the Durant household. Jay barely slept, tossing and turning all night, keeping me awake in turn. Not that my brain wasn’t whirring all night on its own anyway. We’re like the walking dead when we pull ourselves out of bed, a shared morning shower doing very little to wake either of us up. The fact that we don’t even fool around under the warm spray is also telling of our moods.

We’re in the kitchen, sipping at mugs of delicious, delicious caffeinated goodness when Mia tiptoes in cautiously, her eyes downcast and her bottom lip raw and swollen from being gnawed at.

She peeks up at us, giving me a flash of dark circles beneath reddened eyes, the blue of her irises popping against the red, then looks back at her feet, seemingly frozen.

“ Mimi ,” Jay infuses the softly spoken word with a thousand complex emotions, “sweetheart…”

She throws herself at him, sobbing before his arms have had time to wind around her back. There are words in there somewhere —apologies, mostly— and James just holds her and murmurs in her ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I don’t need to. He’ll be reassuring her that he loves her, that he’s there for her, that things will be okay.

He’s been in her shoes. As much as his paternal urges to go and maim a teenage boy are railing inside him, he’s a good dad who knows that the best thing he can do for her is support her. Besides, I told him about how terribly she’s been beating herself up, and I don’t think there’s anything he could say to her that she hasn’t already thought about herself. I imagine he knows what she’s feeling more than I ever could, too.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asks her as she withdraws from the extended hug. He gestures towards me and grins. “Ev can make funny shape pancakes.”

Instead of protesting that she’s not a little kid anymore, the way she always does when we reference experiences from her younger years, she sniffles and nods. “With chocolate chips?”

I roll my eyes affectionately. “Is there any other way?”

We don’t mention the elephant in the room as I make the batter, nor as I pour it into the frypan, nor as we sit down to eat the sugary treats.

However, I know Jay and Mia need to talk without me hanging around. Knowing that he’ll confide in me later, I give his shoulder a squeeze after I’ve packed the breakfast plates into the dishwasher.

“I’m going to head into work for a bit,” I tell him, explaining with my eyes that he should take the opportunity to actually talk to Mia. “Let me know if you need anything while I’m out.”

It’s the most domestic I’ve felt yet, and I barely stop myself from bending to press my lips to his in a quick kiss goodbye.

Jay reaches up and pats my hand on his shoulder. “Cheers,” he says, licking his lips as if having the same thought I just did.

“You’re being weird,” Mia declares, and we both turn our heads to face her.

I casually remove my hand from James’ shoulder as he says, “Forgive me if I don’t know exactly how to act right now,” in a tone that’s both defensive and a little accusatory. I smack him upside the head.

“Stop it,” I hiss at him, gesturing towards Mia. She’s slumped forward in her chair, her expression crestfallen. “Remember how that felt, yeah?”

James swallows and nods, his own expression crumpling with regret. He sighs heavily and says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let’s go cuddle on the couch and talk, okay?”

“Text me if you need anything,” I remind them both, then shoo them out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I grab my laptop bag, still unopened from where I dropped it on the kitchen bench yesterday, and sling it over my shoulder. I hesitate for a moment at the front door, my gaze lingering on the two most important people in my life —huddled together on the couch and murmuring in low voices— before I force myself to head outside and into my car.

***

I’m distracted all day. I can barely pay attention to the figures on my computer screen, the excel formulas —my favourite part of the job, and my pride and joy— all jumbling together and making no sense to me. I can’t stop thinking about James and Mia. Whether he managed to keep his own panic aside to talk to her properly, and whether she opened up about the little douche-canoe she was dating (who, I should add, did not reply to any of her calls or texts yesterday) and about how she’s been sneaking around behind our backs.

Yeah…she wasn’t actually staying at Rose’s place all those nights she said she was. A sixteen-year-old with her daddy’s complete trust —even one as career-focused as Mia— is going to use that to her advantage. Who knew?

And the thing is, Jay and I have been too wrapped up in the excitement of our own relationship to notice.

God, I hope he doesn’t feel as guilty about it as I do, but I have the feeling he will.

By two o’clock, I give up all pretence of working. I tell my boss I need to head off, and she waves me away blithely, and then I shoot off a quick text. If I don’t talk about the thoughts eating me up inside, I’m going to scream.

Thankfully, a reply comes through within minutes, and I smile, tapping out my ETA of approximately twenty minutes.

***

“Come on in,” Will Bradford says genially as he opens the front door of his apartment. He steps back and waves an arm, gesturing for me to accept the invitation. “Please ignore the mess. The boys were here and they like to wreak a bit of havoc wherever they go.”

Despite his words, Will’s smile stretches out his silvery stubble. It’s obvious that he loves his grandsons —Jack’s sons— and is more than happy to deal with the trail of blocks, legos and other toys that they leave behind in their wake.

I smile back at him and step carefully over the scattered toys, “Pretty sure your girl will be joining them soon, won’t she?”

His and Connor’s daughter, Victoria, is somewhere between one and two, from memory. I remember when Mia was that age; a little toddler terror. It’s scary to think she may have one of her own soon enough, too.

“She already is,” he answers, bending to pick up some of the mess. “Con’s just changing her at the moment. He’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thanks,” I bend to help him, ignoring his protests. “Sorry for just springing this on you guys.” Technically, I sprung it on Connor, but his husband is a package deal, I guess, seeing as they live together and all. Jack lives in the apartment above them, actually, and again I wonder why I reached out to Con and not Jack, seeing as I’ve known Jack for longer.

“It’s fine,” Will responds, dropping his collection of blocks and stuff into the toy hamper in the middle of the room. I toss my handful in, too. He straightens up, rubbing at his back. “We’re always happy to have friends drop by.” Like Jack, Will has an American accent, and it’s always a bit jarring to hear it when I’ve been surrounded by other Australians all day. He points at the couch. “Take a seat. Want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? We might have a bottle of Coke in there…”

“Coffee would be great, actually.” I sit on the grey couch and watch as he crosses the living room and then potters around in the adjoining kitchen.

“—and there’s Daddy,” Connor sing-songs as he leads a toddling little girl, dressed in pink overalls, through the living room and into the kitchen. The kid squeals and wobble-walks speedily to her other dad, pudgy fingers curling into the denim of his jeans once she slams into his legs.

Will scoops her up and settles her against his hip in a fluid, one-armed motion, wrapping up his coffee making efforts with his free arm. He smiles and chatters to his daughter as he goes about his business, explaining every step of what he’s doing. “Let’s press this button,” he points to a button on Connor’s fancy coffee machine, “and it will make your other daddy’s coffee just the way he likes it.” She smacks at the machine. Will presses the button for her, and she squeals and applauds clumsily as it whirrs to life, grinding beans and steaming milk. “Good job, princess!”

Connor kisses both his daughter and his husband on the cheek before taking the mug out from under the machine, replacing it with the next in line.

“Do you take sugar?” he asks, and it takes a second to realise that he’s talking to me. I was too lost in their sweet domestic scene, wondering if Jay and I could have had something like that with Mia if we’d realised our feelings sooner.

If we could have something like that in a couple of years…

I clear my throat and give my head a shake, before smiling and accepting the outstretched mug. “Nah, just the milk’s fine, thanks.” Taking a moment to inhale the scent, I bring it to my mouth for a tentative sip, then sigh happily. Nothing beats a good coffee. “Perfect.”

Connor chuckles and, after grabbing his own mug from the machine, folds himself into the chair across from me gracefully. “Now, I’m sure you didn’t want to catch up just because you know I make the best coffees.”

“ Ahem ,” Will jokes as he wanders past us, Vicky still propped on his hip. “ Who makes the best coffees?”

Connor rolls his eyes affectionately. “Our machine.”

Will flips him off and I laugh at the exchange. It reminds me a little of me and Jay and the way we interact. Easy and sweet, with a little bit of banter.

“You don’t mind if I take her over to visit with Toby and Vi?” Will asks after a beat. “I figured I’d put her in the pram and go for a walk. He’ll be home from school by the time I get there.” He looks over at me to explain, “He’s a teacher. The walk from here is about half an hour, give or take. All downhill.”

Connor grins. “I’ll come pick you both up later. Plus, it will be nice to see Leo again. I miss having him upstairs.”

“It won’t be long before Jack begs him to move in again,” Will answers, heading into the hallway which leads to the bedrooms and bathroom. I can hear cupboard doors opening and shutting as he continues with a raised voice, “only this time it’ll be as his live-in boyfriend instead of his nanny.”

“Yeah, I know,” Connor agrees, then turns to me with a smirk, “we’re taking bets on how long that takes. Want in?”

“Nah. I’ve got enough of that kind of melodrama in my life right now. I don’t need to bet on someone else’s.”

Connor sits up straighter in his seat. “Oh? Does this have something to do with the gaudy ring you won’t talk about?”

“Hey!” I splay my left hand over my chest dramatically. “That’s my engagement ring you’re mocking.”

My timing is impeccable. Spluttering and coughing, Connor gasps for air over his coffee mug. He has dribbles of the light brown liquid down his chin and he swipes at them with the back of his hand. “You waited until I took a sip on purpose.”

“You can’t prove that.”

He snorts. “Seriously, though. Engagement ring?” He cocks his head. “Your fiancé has…interesting taste in jewellery.”

On game nights, we all shoot the shit and talk about our lives. I’ve mentioned going on dates with women a few times, but he gets points for not asking me outright whether I’m engaged to a woman or a man.

“I bought the rings as a joke, actually,” I admit. “My best friend, James, he…got himself into a situation.”

Connor raises his eyebrows and ignores his husband —who has bundled Vicky up in her pram with a nappy bag hung over the handles and has paused by the front door to bid us farewell— in preference of rolling his wrist in a ‘hurry up’ gesture.

I wave at Will somewhat apologetically. He just shakes his head, calls out a quick ‘love you’ to Connor, then leaves as I start telling my story.

“So, because it’s Jay, I said that I’d pretend to be his fiancé. That…kind of snowballed.” I give the summarised version of being roped into co-parenting for school events, and being forced to share beds and, ultimately, working out that I’ve fallen arse over teakettle for my best mate. “I had a little freak out about that. Not so much about being in love with a man, but being in love with my best friend. Turns out, he feels the same way about me, and we’ve spent a few weeks in a happy little relationship bubble.”

“Why do I sense a ‘but’?”

Pushing away the twelve-year-old-like instinct to laugh at the word ‘butt’, I nod. “Things are a bit…strained…in his house right now.”

“The daughter?”

I nod. “Yeah. Mia.” I smile softly. “I love that kid.”

“Did she not take the news of you being together well?”

“She doesn’t know yet. We were going to tell her —we actually had a conversation about that the other day, after Jay came out to his colleague— but she dropped a pretty big bomb of her own.”

Placing his mug on the coffee table, Connor inclines his head again. He reminds me a little of a chihuahua every time he does. I’m not quite sure why. Maybe it’s the big, round, curious eyes.

Exhaling, I tell him, “She might be pregnant. And, you know, Jay was a teen dad himself, so he’s…well, he’s kind of alternating between freaking out and wanting to be the kind of parent to her that his were for him. The difference is, she’s still in high school while he was already at uni…so, yeah. Things are…tense. And I might have made them worse.”

He blinks. “How?”

“I, uh, I told Jay that if she was putting the baby up for adoption…maybe” —I clear my throat and look at the remnants of coffee and milk foam swirling at the bottom of my mug— “maybe we could adopt it.”

“ Jesus ,” he breathes. “That’s…”

“I know.”

“It’s just—”

“No, I get it. We’ve only been dating —really dating— for, like, a month. And kids are a lifetime commitment, and they put strain on any relationships, let alone new relationships, and…I just thought, y’know, that kid would be a quarter James.”

“So,” Connor says tentatively, as if he’s trying to be as tactful and gentle as possible, “did you make that suggestion because you want kids? Or because some part of you feels like, with James as its biological grandfather—what?”

My face must be contorted in the same level of rising horror that I can feel. “Grandfather,” I repeat. “Holy shit. He…he might be a granddad at thirty-five.”

Connor’s lips twitch in amusement before he schools his expression. “That’s generally what happens when someone’s kid has a kid.”

“Would…would that make it weird? Adopting his grandkid and raising it as his own?”

“I’m raising my niece as my daughter, so you’re asking the wrong person,” he shrugs. “But, for the record, no. I don’t think that’s weird. However…”

I sigh. “You’re going back to asking if it’s an obligation thing, aren’t you?”

“Is it?”

“You’d make an excellent therapist, you know that?”

“Evan…”

“I don’t know. And, you know, it’s all hypothetical right now. Like, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that she’s not pregnant because she took three tests and they were inconclusive, so we’re waiting on blood test results and this could all be a moot point anyway.”

Connor nods and he sits back into his seat. “But maybe you freaked yourself out by making that suggestion to James to begin with? Is that what’s bothering you? Because it sounds like everything got serious really quickly and maybe your brain is starting to catch up on how many huge changes you’ve made in such a short amount of time?”

As he says it, I start to relax, feeling seen . “Yeah,” I swallow. “Yeah. I think…I think that’s it. Like…I know Jay is my person. He’s it for me. That feels right. But even that is huge because he is a guy, and he’s my best friend, and we’re going to have to tell our families and stuff at some point, and they’ll all want to know why it took us so long to work it out. And, yeah, I’ve kind of been a stepdad all year, and now even that seems to have gotten crazy serious all of a sudden. Not that it wasn’t serious before, because looking after kids is always serious, but…”

Jesus Christ, I even ramble like Jay now.

“It’s a lot,” Connor acknowledges. “And maybe telling Jay that you would raise his hypothetical grandkid with him was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“So…what do I do?”

“Talk to Jay. Maybe talk to an actual counsellor or therapist. These are huge life-changing issues and it’s okay to get help working through them.”

I consider that for a moment. I do feel lighter after sharing it all with him. Maybe breaking it down and talking to a professional isn’t a bad idea. Jay might even benefit from it, too.

“In fact,” Connor says, as if reading my mind, “no matter what happens with Mia, you should probably all consider it anyway.”

I think about the secrets Mia has been keeping from us and, in turn, the one we’ve been keeping from her and I find myself nodding again. “You’re not wrong.”