by Alex Miska
Greg, grinning and shaking his head at his friend’s outburst, pulled out his wallet and handed Tommy a twenty dollar bill, which he accepted with a flourish. Dean loved this family and was so glad he was becoming part of it, but that didn’t change the fact that they were totally weird.
“Sorry, Dean. We were taking bets on how l-” Greg was distracted by his friend rapidly typing on his phone. He tried to pull Tommy back onto the couch by his arm, but his friend danced out of reach. “Tommy, don’t… don’t do that… please. If you tell everyone, I’ll lose my mystique.”
Tommy ran out of the room, cackling like a lunatic. Greg sighed. “I’ll never hear the end of this. It’s the first bet I’ve lost in three decades.”
“That’s still a pretty good record,” Dean said placatingly. “May I ask what the bet was?”
“We were all guessing how long it would take you and/or Jackson to tell us you didn’t need a babysitter and whether you’d actually say ‘babysit’ or use a euphemism,” Greg said shamelessly. “We all place bets on each other about all kinds of random things. The major bets right now are all about our friends’ love lives. Tommy, Quinn, Amelia, Trip… soon someone else is going to fall, and fall hard. You want in on that? I can link you to the Google doc.”
Dean wasn’t sure he knew everyone well enough to make an informed decision, but he definitely wanted to check this out. Tommy returned to the room, and Luna pranced behind him with another toy, which she dropped a foot from Dean’s lap and stole back the moment he reached for it. Dean’s and Greg’s phones chirped, and Tommy said, “Dean, could you let everyone know you witnessed this great moment in Moore history?”
Dean did his best to hold back his laugh and replied to the group text with, “I was there. It actually happened,” causing Greg to groan in feigned misery.
Dean snatched the squeaky toy back from Luna and tossed it. The toy sailed through the air and bounced off the shoulder of the tall skinny man who had appeared in the doorway. Luckily, the guy didn’t seem bothered at all; he just smiled at Luna as she scampered down the hall after her toy. The man had Frankie the pug strapped to his chest… He was one of Chance’s math-geek friends… Dean wracked his brain… Trip was the guy’s name. Probably. He was a teacher or professor or something like that.
The guy who was probably Trip scanned the room and said, “Oh. Julian isn’t here.” He pulled the pug out of the baby carrier and, holding the dog aloft, he looked at the ground as though it were a puzzle to be solved. Dean got up and took the dog from him, and he warned, “Wait, he doesn’t like the cats.”
“That’s okay. I think Luna is the only one who does. But they’ve been sleeping up on their little shelves all day.” Dean was actually kind of impressed with the way Roger handled the cats. It wasn’t as though his greyhound disliked them, but she was guarding the tree against any further climbing incidents, and the cats seemed to respect that. Trip shrugged and let Dean put Frankie on the ground. The pug plopped his butt down in the corner of the room and proceeded to stare at them.
“Julian’s getting computer parts with Jackson and Quinn. What’s up?” Greg asked. Tommy remained silent and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“My sister called,” Trip said morosely, falling into the armchair. “She’s excited to see what hats I give the babies for Christmas.”
“And…?”
“I don’t know how to make hats for babies!” he said.
“I’m confused,” Dean confessed. “I thought you were the one who crocheted all those hats for Cassius.”
“No, I did. Oh wait, I made this snood for Roger!” Trip pulled some weird-looking crocheted thing out of his pocket, and Roger picked her head up long enough for Trip to put it on her. It was a really long turtleneck/hat combo and had antlers. The color exactly matched Roger’s fur and made her look like a reindeer!
“Thank you! That’s adorable! Did you just make this?” Dean asked, stunned. It was like a formal welcome to the Crazy Club.
“It’s no problem. I heard greyhounds can get very cold, and I’d been dying to try this pattern on someone.” Trip angled his head sideways, eyeing the dog. “Dean, I know you’re planning to become a vet and all, but…”
“Yes, I’m aware Roger is a girl dog,” Dean said with a sigh. He knew everybody was going to comment on that fact, but he wasn’t going to just change the poor dog’s name again.
“Logan technically was the one to adopt her. Right, Dean?” Greg asked, and Dean nodded. “So… she’s Roger Moore? Like, James Bond?”
All three men started snickering and Dean knew he was missing something, but he was enjoying their mirth.
“Chance thought that Logan was a spy when they first met,” Greg told Dean.
“When they first met?” Trip asked. “Nuh-uh. He thought it for five years! Can I tell the story? Please let me tell the story. I never got to tell anyone this story!”
And so Trip related a ridiculous, patently unbelievable story filled with secrecy, imaginary gadgets from Q, and a car chase.
“Wait a minute. Chance thought that now? Like, a few months ago? Really?” Dean’s brother could be a little silly, but he was a pretty smart guy. In fact, he was almost as intelligent as Dean and Jackson, so this was more than a little unbelievable.
“My wife, Dani, was having a little fun with him, and Chance promised her that he wouldn’t talk about it. So he didn’t. Ever. And nobody else ever brought it up because, you know, it’s very obvious that my brother isn’t a spy,” Greg said. If this was true… Dean and Jackson weren’t above testing their brother Chance’s credulity.
“So… Now your non-spy brother and my easily-confused brother have a James Bond dog. Roger Moore.” Dean said, putting the pieces together. “Yeah, totally appropriate.”
“Anyway, Trip… if you have time to make a turtleneck for Roger, and you have weeks to make something for your sister’s kids, what’s your problem?” Tommy asked, exasperated. Dean had a feeling there was a deeper meaning behind the question, considering the guy had gone from joking to pissed in the blink of an eye.
“I don’t know what babies want!” Trip whined.
“Trip, go back on Pinterest. There are even more pictures of babies in hats than there are of dog hats,” Tommy said. “Just put in a little fucking effort.”
Yeah, there was definitely some argument going on between those two.
“Maybe I can give them something I’ve made for Frankie and just sew up the holes,” Trip mused.
“Seriously?! You’re considering putting something your dog wore onto an infant?!” Tommy asked.
“Why don’t you make them hats that look like animals?” Dean suggested, trying to be helpful. “There are ones that look like tigers and monkeys and even pugs.”
“But…”
“Listen, Trip, have you taken their measurements lately?” Greg asked, trying to help the man reason through the relatively straightforward issue.
“Of course I’ve measured them! What else do you do with babies?” Trip said, and everyone reacted as though that sentence was perfectly normal. He looked at his watch impatiently. “I have to go teach a class. Dean, you seem to have your hands full. Are you okay with watching Frankie watch you for a few hours?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Frankie was a pretty easy dog to care for. He could spend a good six hours at Safe Harbor refusing to go out into the cold and staring at everyone until they became uncomfortable.
“Okay, great. Thanks. And when your brother’s back, we can get down to work.” Trip danced in place, anxious to leave.
“Work?” Dean was utterly baffled by this man.
“Yeah. I have to homeschool you or else Chance will get in trouble for not enrolling you two in school right away. The spring semester starts January thirtieth, so it’ll be easier for you to start then. I’ll get you up to speed in math and science, and I have a friend who’ll do the English/history stuff with you.”
�
��Oh. Umm, thanks. Chance hadn’t mentioned it.” Dean knew he’d have to start school eventually, but he and Jackson were pretty ahead of the curve, and they’d figured they could jump right in.
“I haven’t told him yet. Anyway, see you later!” And he left.
“What…”
“You’ll get used to him. You don’t have to let him homeschool you, but he’s a good teacher, and you can probably get him to do some interesting stuff with you,” Greg said.
“Just be prepared that he might flake on you,” Tommy grumbled. “Trip means well, but he’s not very dependable.”
“He’s not undependable,” Greg said. “He just gets absorbed by what he’s doing and loses track of time. And he gets sick sometimes. But he’s not a flaky guy.”
“Okay, then he picks and chooses what he’s flaky about and sometimes he loses interest in new projects,” Tommy sniped. “Is that accurate enough for you?”
Greg rolled his eyes at his best friend. “If Trip for some reason isn’t available, you can come to any of us to take up the slack. Or if you want someone neutral, I’m sure Logan is already vetting tutors. He’s pretty excited about having you here and wants to make sure you have everything you need.”
“Your brother’s been pretty awesome. Did he tell you about our trip to Boston?” Dean asked.
“Not yet,” Greg said. “Just the text. How’d it go?”
“It went better than we’d expected. Chance held it together, even though we knew he was just as anxious as we were. I have some pictures of him with Gigi. I think leaving her behind was even harder on him than it was on us. And Logan kept us all sane. But…”
“Did someone smack some sense into that douche-canoe of a father? Because if they didn’t, I know a lot of people who are dying to do it themselves.” Tommy said.
“It, like, never happens, but when Logan does get angry… Oh, man. Please tell me he totally lost it when he met your dad!” Greg said, grinning mischievously.
“Oh, he did! But not with my dad. He flipped out on my grandparents. Jackson took a video. Here…” Dean pulled out his new phone and pressed play.
“I can’t believe he hired a clown,” Jackson quietly whined to Dean. If his twin didn’t stop complaining, Dean was going to smack him.
“Get over it. Everyone loves the clown.” This wasn’t your standard, run-of-the-mill, clown; she was making filthy balloon people and body parts.
“And the face-painter?”
“Makeup artist,” Dean corrected. The guy did some face-painting too, thus Jackson’s tiger face, but mostly he taught everyone who was interested how to apply cosmetics and find the best bargain products. “Doesn’t Kendall look great?”
“Yeah, she really does,” Jackson said dreamily, despite the fact that their friend hadn’t actually put on any makeup. He snapped out of it and added, “And you and Marcus look fierce.”
“You’ll eventually have to accept the fact that this family loves us. Can’t you at least let go and enjoy this for their sakes? Chance already spends too much time worrying that we’re gonna freak out and stage a revolt or something. And Logan’s going to keep telling us to wear our coats and saying weird shit because that’s what he thinks fathers do.”
“I think it’s what his dad actually does. At least, that’s the vibe I get from Grandpa.” Dean and Jackson had quickly warmed to the idea of calling Mr. and Mrs. Moore Grandpa and Grandma, and it was surprisingly easy to start thinking of Logan and Chance as fathers more than brothers. “But you’re right about Chance; I need to be more grateful and try to have fun. I hate it when you’re right.”
Since they’d moved in, their brother’s boyfriend had been a bit overzealous about… well, about everything. So Dean and his twin had been wary when Chance, Logan, and their friends dove into planning ‘a party they’d never forget,’ but this silly, childish-yet-adult birthday party at Safe Harbor was wonderful. The LGBT center had become a family to them, and Dean had been really happy that he could share the loving weirdness that was the Moores and their dogs. In addition to the adult clown and the makeup artist, the dogs were all wearing party hats, and there was tons of snacks, soda, a glittery rainbow cake, balloons, a banner, and who knew what else.
“Ohmygod, you guys!” Their friend Marcus skidded to a halt in front of them. “Your Julian and his brothers and your brother and all of them got into an argument over who was funnier or who wasn’t funny at all or something like that so they decided to have a joke contest and it’s going to be ah-MAY-zing, so you have to get your butts over there before you miss it!”
“They’re telling jokes, Dean!” Jackson moaned. If he had been embarrassed before, Dean was pretty sure his twin was going to die of inexplicable humiliation once the adults in their family started cracking jokes.
“Come on, Mr. Grumpy-Pants, let’s go have some fun,” Dean told his twin. And, because sweets were always an effective bribe, he added, “I bet they’ll let us cut the cake first and I think they brought ice cream to go with it.”
Jackson perked up like a dog hearing the word ‘out,’ and practically dragged Marcus and Dean back into the thick of the party.
Character Guide
Chance had been shuttling his brothers to Safe Harbor a lot over the past couple of weeks. He pushed himself to think of this place as a youth center, not a shelter, but tonight’s visit was especially difficult. Tonight, Xander and Julian were each having bachelor parties. Chance and Logan were thrilled when the boys agreed to have a slumber party of their own, but he hadn’t expected it to be here.
“Please, at least think about it,” Xander begged Kendall, but everyone knew it was futile. “It’s Christmas. We’re all going to sleep over at the Moores’ the night before, and we’re dying to have you there with us. You four can sleep in Julian’s old bedroom, and Chance, Logan, Julian, and I will sleep on mattresses in the hallway. You’ll be completely safe; nobody and nothing will get past us.”
She began to cry, and Chance’s heart shredded into pieces.
Luckily Marcus saved the day by suggesting, “What if… all of them come on Christmas Day. Three strong men and one badass Julian. We can spend a few hours with them, and then they’ll take us back here.”
“Hey, Julian has all this crazy dress-up stuff-” Dean began.
“Ooo! And Xander has those big silly sunglasses from Halloween!” Marcus said excitedly. Xander’s small gasp of dismay at his future son's mockery of his aviators went unnoticed by everyone but Chance, who knew his friend thought they were extremely fashionable and sexy. “Kendall, nobody will know it’s you. Celebrities do it all the time.”
“Umm… Can I think about it? And tell you tomorrow?” she whispered.
Chance reached out and touched her hand. She flinched slightly before turning her hand palm up and squeezing his. “Kendall, you can call us that day, and we’ll all hop in the car to get you. You and Marcus are my brothers’ best friends, and that makes you family.”
“Thank you,” she said shakily.
“Okay guys,” Xander said, breaking the tense mood. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes,” the twins said with teenagerly disdain and Jackson went on to list, “Phones, chargers, mattresses, sheets, pillows, blankets, a change of clothes and a bag full of munchies. We have everything.”
“Deodorant?” Chance asked.
“Oh my god, YES! Ugh!” Jackson’s disgust had Chance and Xander chuckling. Ever since Logan’s very public speech on Adolescent Body Odor, Jackson cringed at the mere mention of antiperspirant or showers. “You can go now.”
“I think we’ve been dismissed,” Chance said to Xander.
“Looks that way. Have fun, guys!” The boys waved them off, already on their way to drop off their stuff in Marcus and Kendall’s room.
Before Xander and Chance reached the door, Marcus tackled Chance in a hug. “Thank you thank you thank you! You have no idea how much it means to us that you k
eep bringing your brothers here and letting us be their friends. We’ve been really really really happy for them but it’s been hard, not having them around all the time. Especially on Kendall. I know she was crying, but you made her really happy.”
Chance knew that Xander and Julian were waiting to get their ducks in a row before broaching the subject of adoption with these kids, so all he could do was hug the boy back and tell him, “I was almost in your position too; I was just lucky to have my grandmother take me in. Places like this didn’t exist back then, so I don’t know what I would have done. You aren’t alone, and it will get better. I promise.”
“My aunt took me in a few years ago when, you know, everyone found out about me,” Marcus confessed. “But she got cancer and… well, now I’m here. This is a great place, Xander. Don’t get me wrong. I am so grateful this place is here but… sometimes I really miss her.”
Xander hugged the boy and then Marcus pulled back, looking a bit embarrassed. “Enough of that. The twins are here, and we’re going to get into as much trouble as possible. You go have your fun and if there are strippers, send us pictures!”
He ran off, and Chance followed Xander back to the car. They sat there for a moment, letting themselves cry over the heartlessness of so many people and the loneliness of these kids and the fact that Chance’s brothers stayed there for three months, afraid to contact him and face the possibility of getting rejected yet again.
“I’m so happy and relieved I can be there for my brothers, but being their brother-father is really overwhelming.”
“Is that how they’re introducing you to people?” Xander asked, amused.
“Right now they call me their brother, but they don’t correct anyone that calls me their dad. It seems like what’ll happen with teachers and friends too, especially once the adoption goes through. I mean, I was sixteen when they were born so, you know, I could totally have knocked someone up and have kids their age. Logan was twelve, but if he’d been precocious… And, well, if we were straight…” Chance babbled. The past couple of weeks had been great and incredibly frustrating. His brothers were strong-willed and independent, but really good kids. They’d been pretty autonomous when it came to everyday life, so Chance was working on making rules fair but reasonable, but it was a balancing act. If he hadn’t had Logan and, really, the whole Moore family by his side, Chance wasn’t sure what he’d have done. Well, no, that wasn’t true. He knew he’d be doing the same thing he was doing now; it just would have been a hundred times harder. “I am so amazingly lucky to have Logan. We all are.”