Page 26 of The Paternity Puzzle
Royce dragged the towel from his head and stared at his husband in disbelief. “You do know that no one means it when they say that.”
“I know a bullshit excuse when I hear one,” Sawyer quipped. “But it wouldn’t hurt us to turn the faucet off between the soaping and rinsing or the sucking and the fucking.”
Royce stepped off the shower mat and stalked toward him, not stopping until he had Sawyer pressed against the vanity. “Fine, but you’re taking the brunt of the cold-water blast when we turn the faucet back on. You shouldn’t mind the chill since you keep threatening to install a tub on the patio for cold water plunging.” Royce, who preferred a hot tub even in the dead of a sultry summer, shivered at the mere thought.
Sawyer cupped his face. “Cold water is good for you. It helps with inflammation.”
Royce kissed him hard on the mouth. “I’ll take your word for it.”
They finished drying off and got dressed to take Dolly for her morning walk. She waited by the door where they kept her harness and leash. Sawyer sighed and shook his head when he saw that the gear hanging from the designated hook matched the Americana bow in her hair. The groomers recognized a sucker when Royce sauntered through their doors with a five-pounddog tucked under his impressive biceps. Sawyer didn’t remark on Dolly’s latest ensemble, but Royce knew him well.
“She likes it,” Royce said as he hooked the leash into the loop on her harness. “Don’t you, baby girl?”
Yip, yip, yip.Dolly spun in enthusiastic circles to punctuate her response.
“See! She likes it,” Royce said.
“She has to pee,” Sawyer countered as he snatched the poop bag dispenser from its hook.
“Probably that too.”
Dolly got a walk every day, come hell or high water, but she especially loved to lollygag on Sundays. Royce claimed their dog possessed an internal calendar to go with the clock that told her when it was time to eat. Sawyer had claimed it was because she fed off their energy. Either way, she was content to sniff the flowers planted in the beds at the ends of their neighbors’ driveways and investigate every tree and swath of grass until she found the perfect place to squat.
“You didn’t tell me what you learned at Dr. Matisse’s house last night,” Sawyer said.
“There’s not much to say right now.” Royce launched into a summary of what he’d seen and the conversations he’d had at the doctor’s house. Sawyer tried to focus on what Royce said, but his thoughts drifted to things he didn’t want to explore.
The pep talk they’d had before Royce left the previous night didn’t fully quell the growing unease in the pit of his stomach. Sawyer and Royce were excellent judges of character, but they got things wrong too. Look at the way they’d misjudged one another when they first met. Even if Dr. Flores was as wonderful and as capable as they believed her to be, honest mistakes occurred every day. What if the technicians accidentally mislabeled something or handed the wrong sperm sample to the doctor for insemination? Honest mistakes were just as painfulas intentional ones. They wouldn’t know if the baby biologically belonged to them without testing. And if she didn’t? Was the universe telling him that he wasn’t meant to be a father?
Royce’s hand settled on the nape of his neck and gently squeezed. “Knock it off.”
Sawyer inhaled deeply and pulled himself together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Royce halted in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing Sawyer to stop too. “You’re freaking out again.”
“Was not.”
“Yes, you were.” Royce kissed him, and the tension eased. No matter what happened, they’d tackle it together. “I was telling you about the dynamics between the Matisse women, and you didn’t acknowledge it.”
Sawyer chuckled, and they resumed walking. “Intense?”
“It wasHousewivesmaterial,” Royce replied. “There was so much tension between mother and daughter.”
“Do you think that’s significant?” Sawyer asked.
“Not sure, but I felt bad for Julia. I just got the feeling that she was always striving for her father’s approval, and Mayor Barclay confirmed it.”
“And now she’ll never get it,” Sawyer said.
“Exactly.” He halted suddenly and pointed at the Sunday paper lying in the middle of a neighbor’s yard. “I forgot all about Felix’s exposé. Do you think he went ahead with publishing it?”
Sawyer snorted. “Do you wake each morning with an erection?”
Royce whistled for Dolly, and they stepped up the pace to encourage her to poop. Because they wanted her to, the dog took her good ole time finding the right blades of grass to bless. Sawyer waited with a bag at the ready and swooped in once they accomplished their feat. They had a digital subscription to thepaper, so Royce brought his tablet into the kitchen and pulled up the article on it.
“Do you mind if I read this? I’m sure Felix only gave us a CliffsNotes version of the dirt they’d dug up on Dr. Matisse.”
“Read it out loud,” Sawyer said. “I’ll wash up and start breakfast.”