by Jason Banks
“Alllll rigghht. Let’s go girlfriend,” he said, swinging the door shut.
“Hi, Jen. This is Brogan Baxter, Lily’s dad,” Brogan spoke into the phone.
“Oh hi, Dr. Baxter,” the girl replied.
“I know this is such short notice, but Max and I are looking for a sitter tonight if you’re available.”
“Dang, I’m so sorry. I’m all the way in Omaha for the next few days. I wished I could be there for Lily, she’s my favorite kid to babysit.”
A look of despair washed over Brogan’s face. “Yes, her too. She asks about Jenny whenever you’re not here,” he assured. “Hell, she might even prefer you over me some of the time.”
“Well, that’s nice to know. I hope you find somebody that can help tonight.”
“Thank you, I hope you are staying well. Be good and we’ll see you next time for sure.”
“You as well, give Lily a hug for me.”
As Brogan placed his phone onto the seat cushion next to him, Maxwell returned to the living room with a similar look of disappointment.
“Jen is a no-go for tonight, damn,” Brogan stammered. “Do you know anyone who would be good with Lil to come keep her company?”
Max blew out a sigh. “Not on the top of my head,” he replied. “We can check Lucy’s List online. That’s how I found our guy to fix the oven.”
“Why, I’ve never heard of this website before. Has it been around a while?” Brogan inquired.
Nodding his head, Max continued to brief the man a handful of years his senior, about the benefits of using Lucy’s List. “Yeah, a few years,” he said, reaching for his phone on the side table next to his black suede chair. He continued, “it’s basically like a Yelp site for independent contractors who have small businesses. Their past clients will rate and review their experience and offer advice for future service seekers, depending on what that person’s needing.”
Max located the mobile version of the site on his device and relocated to the sofa next to Brogan. He stared at the login box, trying to remember what username and password he’d set up. God only knew how many different variations of credentials there were spooling around in the recesses of Max’s memory.
“Damn, what did I use last time?” he questioned to himself.
Trying his preferred combination, luckily Max was able to get in on his first try.
“See here, the sidebar menu that says categories,” he directed, pointing towards his screen. “We select that, then choose family services, scroll down to child care...”
“This thing’s starting out to be as complex as our charting system at work,” Brogan snarked.
Max shook his head. “Nah, not difficult at all, really” he replied. “Then scroll down to baby sitters. Tap on it, then a page comes up with a list of all Lucy’s List approved providers will display within a specified distance of our zip code. Here, go ahead and browse through them. Hopefully we can still find someone,” he added, handing the phone to Brogan.
As Brogan fingered through the list of different baby sitters, he found one selection with an overall rating of two stars out of five. “Wow, this person only has two stars,” he stated, shocked that they’d still be on this exclusive list.
Max appeared stunned as well. “That is rather surprising.”
“Brenda only came to our home one time and she will not be welcome back,” Brogan began, reading the reviews aloud so Max could also hear them. “She arrived on time, had a friendly smile and seemed overall qualified to handle my four-year-old. However, I came home to a messy kitchen where my son amused himself in powdering the floor with a whole bag of flour. Brenda stated that things were fine on the phone as we called on our way home, but it’s evident that she must have sat around preoccupying herself with her phone. Who loses track of a four-year-old? She will not be missed around here.”
“Ohh....” Brogan sighed, hovering over a different review for the same sitter, but spotted the words autism and it appeared there was a different babysitter suggestion within the same paragraph. “I have two children who are both on the autism spectrum. It’s important to me as a parent that I can rely on a sitter to know about developmental disorders and how to deal with autistic children. Brenda assured me that she had a handful of cousins and friends on the spectrum, though ended up calling me in the middle of my conference which I had been speaking at the podium that same moment, to tell me that she couldn’t get my son Isaac to calm down. Needless to say, I was displeased when I rushed home as soon as I could to see her yelling at Isaac and my daughter Rebecca at the top of her lungs. This angers me greatly, but I have found a wonderful alternative. Her name is Anne Schneider, she lives just outside of Fort Collins but is on top of her game in handling kids on the spectrum. Both my kids just love her, and she is willing to travel the extra commute, if you live closer to the city. Her number is listed below. If you have a child with special needs, call her first. You’ll be glad you did!”
“That sounds promising,” Max stated.
“Yes it does, I’m going to call her now. If she’s really as skilled as this last parent says, I’d be willing to pay double for her extra efforts to get here,” Brogan responded, in agreement with Max.
***
“Lily honey, come downstairs for a second please?” Brogan yelled up from the base of the staircase.
“Thank you so much for coming on a last minute’s notice, Anne,” Maxwell said, reaching to shake the sitter’s hand. He added, “You shouldn’t have a problem with Lily, she’s a well-behaved kid.”
Anne smiled reassuringly. “Oh I’m certain things will go smoothly,” she said.
Lily was spotted at the top of the steps looking suspiciously down at the stranger inside her house. Brogan still had reservations about leaving his daughter in the hands of someone she hadn’t acquainted with prior, but the fact she is known to be great around kids with autism helped him choke down the instinctual fears every parent has of their young.
“It’s okay, Flower darling,” Brogan said, motioning for her to finish coming downstairs. “This is Anne, she is a very nice woman.”
Max finished adjusting his royal blue silk neck tie in the mirror adjacent to the front door. Lily cautiously descended downstairs with her hand holding to the railing all the way down. For a kid with social deficits, she certainly only appeared shy on the outside. But her inner emotions couldn’t be felt or easily detected unless provoked.
Brogan took Lily’s right hand and raised it up, pointing toward Anne. This strategy helped her focus on better eye contact with strangers.
“Well your daddy didn’t tell me how beautiful you were,” the woman complimented, “I sure do like that purple night shirt. Dragonflies are one of my favorite things too.”
Lily whimpered. “Where you going, Daddy?” She questioned, grasping tight to the palm of his hand.
He bent down to Lily’s eye level. “Uncle Max and I are going downtown to have dinner and see a play,” Brogan replied. “You wouldn’t have as much fun with us as you will with Anne,” he added, making sure to mask his insecurities so as to help Lily build a trusting rapport with the woman.
Max slid a black sport coat over his shoulder with a finger. “On the fridge is both our cell numbers, should you ever need to get a hold of us...”
“For whatever reason at all,” Brogan interrupted. “She has a nightly ice cream cone about an hour before bed, which is generally 8:30 on Monday’s. There’s a book on her nightstand called Theodore and the Mighty Kingdom. She enjoys being read to and will typically fall asleep before saying the end.”
“Lil has already eaten an earlier dinner, so if she or you want something to snack on, there’s plenty of stuff in the kitchen to find,” Max said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.
Brogan held Lily in his arms, grasping her tight. “You’re going to have a good night with Anne, be a good girl okay?” he instructed. “I promise I’ll sneak right into your room to kiss you goodnight when we come home.
”
“Okay,” Lily answered.
“Love, it’s almost 7:00. We better leave if there’s a chance to keep our reservation after dealing with traffic,” Max stated, peering down toward his sparkling Harry Winston wristwatch.
As Brogan rose from kneeling, he gave Lily a peck on her forehead. “Yep, go start the car and I’ll be right out.”
Maxwell paced toward the garage while Brogan reached for his keys. Which seemed unusual to him, since the two of them were riding together in the same vehicle. Thinking nothing of it, he stuffed them in his pocket and led the love of his life out into the garage, blowing a kiss to Lily as he shut the door.
Both men in the car, Max exited their Cherry Creek neighborhood in the hopes of still making their reservation. This was the first time in several weeks that the two of them had been able to spend a night out with one another. As he turned his blinker signal off, Max tilted his head to smile at Brogan who appeared to probably be fighting off the anxieties of leaving Lily at home.
“It’s alright babe,” Max said reassuringly, placing the palm of his right hand on Brogan’s thigh.
“I just hate leaving her with a stranger she’s not had enough contact with before tonight.”
“I get that, but she seems very competent in taking care of our daughter.”
Brogan continued. “The applause she received online seemed great and I was so excited in that moment that we found another sitter on a last-minute notice, but I can’t help but feel guilty and wondering if she had a complete meltdown the minute I got in this car.”
While stopped at a traffic light, Maxwell leaned into Brogan’s shoulder and delivered a warm kiss on his man’s tender lips. Brogan twisted his body to welcome the passionate advance and placed his hands around Max’s skull.
“She’s just a call away, God forbid anything actually happen. Remember that this is part of her growth as a child—autism or not,” Max whispered. Max could understand this would be the case, but spending three out of four weeks away each month for work left his parenting skills at a lesser advantage than Brogan who was usually home each night.
The sounds of a honking horn from behind his dark maroon BMW M6 reminded Max that the light turned green.
Max huffed and shouted out, “Yes you bastard, I saw the light change only one second ago!”
“Sheesh,” Brogan sighed. “Somebody must be in a hurry.”
Turning from E. 6th avenue, Max stifled a yawn. “I’m not sure I’ll make it through a play, even if it is Wicked- The Original Broadway Cast,” he said.
“It was nice to stay home with you today,” Brogan replied. “Not a single page for me the entire afternoon.”
“Yes it was nice to spend the day with you, that was thoughtful of your patients,” Max snickered. “I must say, I’ve never been to this place before. I’m curious to see how it turns out.”
“Our board director took all of the department heads there for a luncheon a couple months ago,” Brogan mentioned. “I’m sure that check was a pretty dime or two.”
“Oh yeah?” Max acknowledged. “Was it any good?”
A chuckle spewed from Brogan. “I wouldn’t have made the reservation this morning had it not of been anything less than stellar,” Brogan bit back sarcastically. “Only the best for you, my gorgeous tall drink of water.”
“Oh that’s what we should have done today while Lil was at her peer-class!” Max exclaimed.
Brogan sneered. “You dirty dog, you.” He pointed up the road, “just past the Denver Marriott, you’ll see the sign for Guard and Grace restaurant on the left.”
“No, no,” Max laughed. “I meant to go grab more bottled water from the store...”
“Uh huh,” Brogan retorted, rolling his eyes. “I know what you really meant, wink wink.”
“...besides, I’m protein deficient ha ha,” Max continued. “It wouldn’t have been as fun,” he added with a grin from cheek to cheek, turning into the restaurant valet line.
“Well then maybe you should order a steak tonight,” Brogan hinted.
While switching off the air conditioning, Max unbuckled his seat belt and tilted his head sideways. “Perhaps,” he said.
“Or...” Brogan said, raising a brow. “You could just get it over with right here in the parking lot. We can park our own damn selves.”
Max shook his head in amusement. “Oh I’m sorry, I left my ‘cum dumpster’ t-shirt at home,” he laughed. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
***
Seated at their reserved table, Brogan and Max perused the menus. Rather than sitting opposite each other, they chose to dine side by side in the spacious corner booth. The atmosphere was warm and provided an inviting ambiance from their meticulous wall décor to each uniquely hand carved table lacquered with ultra-high gloss wood stain. As Maxwell studied the variety of steak options, Brogan rested his hand on his lover’s thigh.
“I already know what I’m ordering,” Brogan proclaimed, shutting the thick menu in front of him. “You should order a side of their Truffle Mac and Cheese. It’s absolutely delicious.”
Max took a pause from deciding what to order and leaned his forehead against Brogan’s. “Oh yeah? More delicious than your hot kiss?” Max muttered softly into the man’s ears, combing his right hand through the back of Brogan’s hair.
“Oh, well, kissing you is great. But, I’d place higher bets on the grub if I were you,” Brogan teased back. “Besides mister, you need a breath mint and we haven’t even eaten as much as a flake of bread yet,” he said with a snarky grin.
Max scowled sarcastically. “Now then, if you think you’re getting anything more than my warm hand to hold in bed tonight, you will be sorely mistaken,” he retorted, playfully slapping Brogan on the chest.
The palm of his hand remained over Brogan’s rib cage. Max took mental note of his man’s beating heart and smiled. “Okay I take that back. You can have five minutes with me in the shower,” he added.
“Only five? No more, no less, Mr. Smarty Pants?” Brogan pleaded.
“Yep. Only five,” Max jested, smiling as he opened his menu back to the page of sirloin entrees. He concluded his proclamation with a wink. “No tug, no slap, and no tickle. Just five minutes of you, the loofah and some suds trickling down your spine.”
A short woman with gingered hair and square eyeglasses approached their booth.
“Hi gentlemen, I’m Leslie and I’ll be your server tonight,” she introduced, pointing towards the drink special highlights on a small table sized a-frame at the edge of the slick surface. “Can I get you started with a bottle of our Plum Creek Palisade Rosé, fresh from lush vines on the Western Slope?”
Max shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll just have a sparkling water with lime.”
Leslie acknowledged, “Alright and you sir?”
“That works for me as well,” Brogan answered.
“Very well, I’ll be right back,” Leslie stated.
As he placed his menu on top of Brogan’s toward the opposing end of the table, Max took in a deep breath. “I am so happy we have tonight together just the two of us.”
Brogan concurred with a nod of his forehead. “I couldn’t be any happier than I am, having you here with me,” he said with a glint in his honey glazed stare.
The two of them held hands, embracing the quiet moment before hearing a voice approach their booth. “Dr. Baxter? What brings you here on a hot summer night?”
“By the looks of it, I might be wrong, but it appears that I may have a stalker,” Brogan offered in a mirthful tone. “Hon, this is my cardiology fellow, Dr. Billy,” he introduced, freeing Max’s grip to shake hands. “Dr. William Randall is his full name, but all of us at the farm calls him Dr. Billy, because he’s way too young to be a William yet.”
Max reached out his hand. “Pleasure meeting you. I’m Maxwell Williams, Brogan’s partner.”
“Likewise,” Dr. Billy stated.
“He’s right, you know. I mean what are y
ou, like twelve?” Max laughed while retrieving his hand.
Leslie returned to the table with their waters. “Are we ready to order yet? Or I can return in a few moments, no rush,” she insisted.
The young-looking doctor shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot. I’m actually going to be 26 this fall. I graduated high school a couple years early,” Dr. Billy replied. “What is it that you do?”
“I’m a fashion photographer for print and digital media outlets,” Max responded.
“Oh that sounds like fun,” Dr. Billy said, placing his forefinger to his chin. “My step-son is interested in being a model one of these days, maybe I should hire you to take the first round of head shots for his portfolio.”
“I say, that’s a clever idea, hon,” Brogan intervened. “You could make time for that,” he added. “This guy is home maybe a week each month. Sometimes an extra few days, if I’m lucky.”
“I’d be happy to take them,” Max agreed. “In fact, if it can wait until around the first part of August, I wouldn’t object to doing it for no cost.”
“That’s not necessary, I’m happy to pay you for the time involved.”
“I won’t hear of it. Any friend of Brogan is a friend of mine,” Max insisted.
Maxwell reached into the pocket of his Burberry wallet to retrieve a business card. “Here’s my info,” he said, handing the card to Dr. Billy. “Drop me a line to get on my calendar and we’ll make it happen.”
“Thank you, we sure appreciate this,” Dr. Billy replied. “It was a pleasure running into you guys,” he added, taking note of the time on his phone. “But I’d better hurry to the car or my wife may just leave without me.”
Brogan shook Dr. Billy’s hand before he scooted away from the table. “See you tomorrow, most likely.”
While Brogan finished the remaining bites of his Scottish Salmon, Maxwell couldn’t help but close his eyes at every taste of the black truffle macaroni and cheese.