Boy Toy

by Sarina Bowen

  Last night I stayed up late waiting for his taxi to pull up in front of the house. The girls and I couldn’t meet him at the airport, because his connection from Philadelphia was delayed.

  I practically leapt up off the sofa when I saw headlights on the street. We survived nine months apart. Apartish. There was a month at Christmas, a family trip to Euro Disney, and two separate little jaunts of my own to visit him in Rome.

  It turns out that Liam and I are really good at keeping a long-distance relationship alive. Not having him here was hard, but it forced us to make time to just talk on the phone, and to work on deepening our relationship. We did this most weekdays at four. That’s ten p.m. in Rome. I’d call him from my office, where there were no distractions. We talked about life, psychology, child development, Rome, and the girls.

  Swear to God, Liam was more of a partner from 4600 miles away than Decker ever was.

  I should really get up. But it’s so comfortable here, thinking happy thoughts about my man…

  My eyes pop open an hour later. Whoops. I guess I dozed off again. I’ve been really tired this week. My body feels like lead. It must be from all the reorganizing I’ve done.

  I sit up and swing my feet off the side of the bed. My stomach gives a little lurch for no good reason. That’s unexpected. Especially because there are good smells coming from downstairs now. I smell bacon and something sweet.

  Pancakes? No. It’s a cakey smell.

  Mmm, cake. Liam is obviously getting a jump start on our party plans. We invited over our crew to have a laid back Welcome Home, Liam! barbecue. I already shopped for burgers and sausages, and Brynn is bringing side dishes, while Ash is tasked with bringing paper plates, booze, and bags of chips.

  And Liam wanted to handle dessert. Which I’m smelling now. And the cake smells great.

  Amazing, even.

  I want it so bad, I’m actually drooling a little.

  The only time I’ve ever craved cake is…

  Uh-oh.

  My heart rate accelerates. No. It can’t be. But...it could be.

  My face heats a little bit as I remember my trip to visit Liam last month in Italy while the girls were with their dad. It was pasta, pesto, and plenty of sex. Italy was a dream. And we didn’t use protection, because I accidentally left my pills at home.

  It seemed really romantic at the time.

  Suddenly I am up, out of bed, pulling on underwear and yoga pants and a sport tank. I’ve got to make a really quick errand to the pharmacy.

  * * *

  Liam

  “Are you exhausted?” my brother Aiden asks me a few hours later.

  I turn and give him a smile. “Why would you ask?” So far today I’ve baked a cake, mowed the lawn, and moved a bunch of furniture into the backyard. Also, I currently have Amy on my back while I’m hanging up Sadie’s flower baskets on the front porch. But this party was my idea, so I knew what I was in for.

  “Dunno,” my brother says with a shrug. “Moving cross-country while jet-lagged and throwing a party.”

  “Eh. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  “Hopefully that won’t be soon,” my brother says, taking a swig of the beer I gave him. “Glad to be back?”

  “You have no idea.” My glance does a sweep of the yard, looking for Sadie. I’m hungry for another look, but she’s in the kitchen setting up.

  “This is the real deal, right?” my brother says, smirking at me. “Are you two going to get m—”

  “Hush,” I say, cutting off the question. There’s a small person with big ears on my back. “If that’s in the cards, I’d really rather discuss it with her, first.”

  I hope it’s in the cards. But I push that thought aside for now.

  “Are we having cake soon?” Amy asks from over my shoulder.

  “Not before lunch,” I say automatically.

  My brother smirks. “Someone sounds like a parent already.”

  “How would you know?” I counter. Our actual parents never fed us lunch.

  “Touché. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure is.” I reach behind my body and snag Amy. “Hold this. I need a quick shower before the others arrive.”

  Aiden looks taken aback as I place a preschooler into his arms.

  “Tea party!” she says. “Come see my dollies’ table?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  I sprint for the stairs. The rest of our guests will start arriving at any minute.

  “Liam!” Sadie says when I enter the bedroom. I’m already whipping off my sweaty T-shirt and aiming it at the hamper. “Oh, my. Carry on.”

  My gaze finds her in the walk-in closet as I unbutton my shorts. She’s wearing a sleeveless dress, and her wavy hair is still damp from the shower.

  Hey, little lady, my inner horny man says. We could have a quickie right now and nobody would know.

  “Hey, little lady,” I say, because apparently I have no self-control. Sadie and I had a lot of amazing conversations while I was overseas, but right around the moment the taxi pulled up to her house last night, my libido woke up and shook itself off like a hungry dog.

  Her mouth opens and then closes again as I stalk toward her. “Hey, there’s something I need to tell…”

  She doesn’t get the rest of the sentence out, because I’ve pinned her to the closet door with a kiss so hot that we might need the fire extinguisher. I’d like to keep going but there’s the sound of a doorbell, and knocking, and then I just hear the door downstairs open.

  “We brought booze!” I hear.

  “Ash and Braht,” Sadie says.

  “Quit making out, you two!” Ash calls up the stairs. “I have some big news!” And just like that, Sadie has slipped out of my arms and away.

  How did Ash know? Oh, right—Sadie told me all about Ash and Braht and shenanigans in a pantry. So maybe she’s just tuned into that sort of thing.

  I take a deep breath and take a running leap for the shower.

  * * *

  It’s chaos for the next few hours. Just after I make it downstairs, Brynn and Tom and chubby little Zach arrive. There are hugs and hellos, and the twins sweep in and grab Zach to “babysit.” I’m pretty sure Kate means she’s going to literally sit on him, but Amy and Piggypoo would never allow that, I’m sure.

  Then there’s a flurry of “Connor meet Brynn and Tom” or “Meg meet Cassidy” as my other siblings arrive and are introduced to Sadie’s friends.

  Cassidy and Meg seem to hit it off and immediately begin mixing cocktails while carrying on a steady stream of chatter over...I don’t know what. I hear something from my sister about nudity and France and some guy named Jacque. I walk away from the two of them because a big brother just doesn’t want to know.

  Sadie is across the yard chatting with her friend Ash. I give her a longing glance, and I swear she gives me one right back. I want to whisk Sadie away—to the pantry, if necessary—and remind her how much I’ve missed her.

  Score! my inner horny man cheers.

  I give Sadie another meaningful look, and she smiles and starts to make her way over to me. Finally. But then Ash and Braht walk between us, deep in conversation and heading for the driveway. And when they’re finally out of the way, I see my parents pop out onto the deck.

  “My parents? Really?”

  Sadie gives me a shrug. We’d talked about this before, the importance of second, and even second-hundred chances. But dealing with the ‘rents while jet-lagged is a bridge too far.

  Not like I have a choice. My dad approaches first, giving me an awkward one-armed man-hug. Now that’s unexpected. The man doesn’t do affection. I wonder if maybe Sadie is right—that my dad might want to mend things with me?

  He’s changed a bit over the last year. Softened up maybe. After he won his primary, it shocked him to lose the general election. And the loss seems to have a humbling effect on him.

  Or maybe it was Kate’s tackle to his nuts. One or the other.

  “Nice house, dear
,” my mother says. “Sandie has nice taste.”

  “Sadie,” I correct with a sigh. Two-hundred and one chances?

  Then the door opens again and Ash leans out and hollers: “Our big news is ready to meet the public! Braht’s brother Bramly just drove him over. Look who woke up from his wittle nap!”

  Braht holds open the screen door and says, “Tada! We’re puppy parents!”

  “What are puppy parents?” my mother sniffs, and she and I might be on the same wavelength for the first time since…well, ever.

  Ash and Braht descend the deck like royalty. And they’re carrying more gear than most parents do when they drop their beloved baby off for daycare the first time. Braht is cradling an enormous dog bed, a designer bag stuffed with toys, a dozen bones—apparently the dog is teething—and a huge stuffed sloth. I have no idea what that last thing is for.

  I squint at the two of them, wondering where the puppy is. Suddenly a big hairy monster charges, bolting right between Braht’s legs. But this is not a puppy. It’s a beast. It’s a St. Bernard? It’s moving so fast I can hardly clock his black, brown, and white fur. And there’s a happily expending line of drool hanging from its furry jaw.

  “Pony!” Kate chirps.

  There is a collective gasp, and everyone leans back as the St. Bernard cases the yard, loping around, taking everyone in. I can almost see his doggy synapses firing as he zeroes in on my dad.

  All I have time to think is: not again.

  The puppy—the beast—charges right for him. But this time the family jewels are spared, since the dog leaps up on his long hind legs to slather my dad’s face and neck with hot, goopy dog kisses.

  It’s quite disgusting, and I brace myself for violence.

  But a miracle happens instead. My dad? He laughs. It’s a weird, rusty sound, because the man never laughs. But I swear it’s happening. And my mother even makes an awkward smirk. An attempt at a smile.

  “Oh dear!” Ash says. “Sebastian, grab the monogrammed towel. We’re prepared for this.” A moment later he shoves a towel in my father’s face, while Ash corrals the dog.

  “Oh, babykins!” he says. “You’re so cute when you get all kissy!”

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” Brynn says, patting the sleeping baby in her arms. “They have owned that dog for a day and a half and they’ve already lost IQ points.”

  “They have them to spare,” Sadie says. Her arm slips around me and she snuggles in close. She drops her voice even further, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “We need to talk.”

  Yeah, we do. “You’re not going to tell me we’re getting a puppy, right?” I joke. And then I laugh.

  But Sadie pales. “Not a puppy, exactly.”

  Well that’s odd. Maybe she got a cat? I’ve never had a cat. (“Too much hair,” my mother always said. “It’s tacky.”)

  “Liam! The grill is hot!” my brother calls from the patio. “I need those burgers like yesterday!”

  It’s always something. “Coming!” I call over my shoulder. “Sorry, babe. Just need a minute. Then we’ll catch up.” I dash off to get the meat.

  * * *

  Sadie

  The grilling takes forever, and I’m churning inside. Liam might freak out when I tell him my news.

  Then I’ll freak out, too.

  You don’t welcome home a man like this. Hi, baby. Great to see you settling in. Eight months from now we’ll have three kids under the age of four. So party while you still can.

  Not that Liam isn’t culpable. He knew this could happen. But that didn’t stop him in Rome. We got so carried away. It was glorious. But now I’m panicked. I know for sure that Liam wants another child. He said so several times.

  But now he’s getting one for Christmas this year.

  Also, I’ll probably have to have another c-section. Which means a new scar. On my naked body.

  The only silver lining is that Kate and Amy will be thrilled. They are big fans of Decker and Honey’s new bundle of joy, and they’ve been asking me to pop out another one.

  “I can’t do that, sweetheart,” I’d said the first time Kate asked.

  She’d given me an adorable little frown. “Course you can. Grow it in your belly.”

  Who knew my three-year-old would be ahead of the curve on this one? Not me. And it’s not a comforting thought.

  My sister is playing with my girls right now. She looks a little tipsy. Liam is turning burgers on the grill and laughing with his brother. Maybe I can steal him away for a second?

  I feel like barfing, and not from morning sickness. It’s nerves.

  “Baby, would you get the condiments and the buns?” he asks as I approach.

  “Buns,” I echo. Bun in the oven, my subconscious taunts. “Coming up,” I say with a sigh. “Faster than you think.”

  “Awesome,” he says.

  We’ll just see if he’s still saying that when I drop my bomb.

  * * *

  I don’t get Liam alone for another three hours. It’s not easy to get the guest of honor away from all his admiring fans. Eventually things start to cool off—the grill, the temperature, the party in general—I waggle my brows at Liam. I’m trying to say, “Come over here, big fella. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  He responds with a brow waggle of his own, then turns around and disappears.

  Where did he go?

  He’s not on the deck with his relaxed and drunk parents. Not with Meg and Cassidy swinging in a giant hammock. Not with my besties and their men in the living room, where the twins are admiring baby Zachary as he sleeps in his bouncy chair.

  Where is he?

  I’m starting to panic a little when I reach the hallway and there’s a tug on my arm. “Quick!” Liam says. “In here!” He pulls me into the bathroom and locks the door. It makes sense. It really is the only room in the house where you can get some alone time.

  “I miss you,” I say, because I do. It’s not past tense: I missed you. No. It’s present tense. I miss him being near me. I miss his hands on me. I miss his proximity and his presence.

  “I’m here,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere. In fact…” he says, just as I say, “I have something to talk to you about.”

  “You do?” Crumbs. “Maybe you better hear my thing first.”

  He opens his mouth to argue when someone twists the handle on the bathroom door. “Mama! I want another cookie!”

  Before I can answer, Liam reaches up and puts a finger across his lips. His eyes are smiling at me.

  I don’t say a word.

  “Mama?” Kate’s voice demands. “Liam?”

  Let’s face it—I was going to say no to the cookie anyway. She’s really not missing a thing right now if I stay hidden.

  But there’s no way to know if she’s still out there, or if she’s already given up.

  Liam lifts his hands, silently asking me to tell him whatever I wanted to say.

  I look up into his handsome face and smile. And he smiles back at me, warm and happy. We’re hiding in a bathroom and our families are tipsy and there’s a St. Bernard probably eating the living room furniture. But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

  Also, that look in his eye doesn’t care about my c-section scar. I take a deep breath and relax. It’s different with him. It just is.

  I reach for Liam’s hand, and lift my top a couple of inches. Then I place his palm on my belly. His eyes widen. He lifts his startled gaze to mine, and I nod.

  Liam inhales sharply and then, as I watch, his eyes fill. But it’s not sadness. It’s the kind of happiness that can’t be contained. It has to be released.

  And still, no words are necessary as he presses his lips to my forehead and inhales deeply. His thumb strokes slowly across my belly, and I don’t think it’s possible to be any happier than I am right this second.

  Then Liam wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and smiles. He holds up one finger in the universal sign for “shh.” Then he takes my hand. He places it on his
shorts. The man is hard. Really hard. And I tremble a little. I thought with the jet lag and all the ruckus, he wouldn’t reach this level of readiness until at least a few extra hours of solid sleep. But as I flatten my palm over him I notice...that hardness...it has corners. It’s a box.

  A little square box.

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  Now I’m tearing up. I know what he’s going to ask, and he knows what I’m going to say, and we still don’t need words. Words are all we had during our separation.

  Now we just need action.

  We kiss. Slow, and firm, and with promise. I don’t know how long we kiss. Long enough for Kate or Amy, or probably both of them, to pad away calling to Aunt Meg for a cookie. Finally, we part and Liam is smiling, and he’s shaking a little when he reaches into his pocket, grabs the box, and opens it.

  The ring. Oh! The ring is so beautiful I can’t even believe it. It’s platinum, with a cushion cut diamond. And it’s familiar. The first time I went to Rome, we spent one magical night walking around and window-shopping. I’d stopped to admire the original handcrafted jewelry in one window. And I swear this ring was there.

  But that was months ago! When I can finally speak I say, “Liam, have you been carrying this around with you for months?”

  He brushes the hair from my face and looks at me. “I was just waiting for the perfect time.”

  Standing in our bathroom, huddled together secretly, while all of our loved ones are outside the door laughing or sleeping or chatting, and the girls ready to be tucked in, and our baby growing inside of me—this was what we’ve both been waiting for.

  It isn’t perfect at all. It’s messy and chaotic, this love we have, the life we’ll share. But it’s ours.

  T H E

  E N D

  Don’t Miss the Rest!

  Man Hands (Brynn & Tom)

  Man Card (Ash & Sebastian)

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