Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

by Hayden Hunt

  He immediately burst into tears and wrapped his arms around my neck.

  I didn’t know what I was nervous for. I had a small fear that once I told him we were soon to be parents, he’d panic a bit and his old worries about not being a good father would crop up again. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be celebrating this alone while I tried to calm him down.

  But now I had to calm him down in a completely different way. And I couldn’t be more thrilled. Tears were coming out of my own eyes, now that I could process the news fully.

  “But she’s due in only four months! In four months we’re going to be fathers?”

  “Yes, baby, just four months. Good thing we’ve already got the nursery set up, huh?”

  Truth be told, we’d had the nursery set up for nearly a year now. We had every little thing you could possibly need when having a baby. We’d been slowly collecting. And we’d had a few interviews, but had yet to be chosen by a prospective mother.

  Though our society had come a long way in its thinking about gay parenting, it was still hard for gay parents to adopt. Most liberal women tended to be pro-choice and wouldn’t necessarily carry an accidental baby to term if they didn’t want to keep it. Not all of them, mind you, I didn’t mean to generalize, but more often than not, it was young, conservative, religious women who put their baby up for adoption. Conservative women who would rather not have their babies raised by two gay men.

  But the woman who finally chose us was an absolute sweetheart. She was still quite religious, but very open-minded, and had been specifically looking for gay couples for her baby, knowing that it was harder for them than straight couples.

  Still, I wasn’t sure she was going to really choose us. The interview went well, but you never actually knew. Until now… Now, we knew.

  Peter kissed me passionately and then cried a bit on my shoulder.

  “We’re going to be fathers, baby! We’re finally going to get to start our family. Holy fuck, I can’t wait to tell my parents they’re going to be grandparents! And my Grandma will have another great grandchild!”

  “I know! I have to call Sabrina back right away. I promised I’d tell her after I told you and then that was why I figured we could go to the pumpkin patch. So we could tell them right away too. I know it’s our anniversary, but I figured you might rather do that than just do our usual horror movies at home thing.”

  “Yes! Absolutely, oh my God, I’m so happy. Wait a second.” His eyes bulged. “It’s our anniversary.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s why you got me these chocolates, right?” I laughed.

  “No, yes, no, I knew it was our anniversary before I got here, of course, but I’m just now processing the fact that this is all happening on our fucking anniversary! Like holy shit!”

  I hadn’t thought about that either until this moment. “Well, we already knew Halloween was our good luck holiday, right?” I laughed and so did he.

  “I really can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I get to do this with you and… Oh my God, baby, we get to talk about names!” he said excitedly.

  This was one thing we promised we wouldn’t do until we actually got accepted by someone. We didn’t want to think of names and then inevitably get attached to them, just to find out we weren’t accepted as a potential couple by the mothers we interviewed with. It made it a lot more painful if you actually had a name for the baby you hoped to have.

  And it’d been a hard rule to stick to because who didn’t love talking about baby names? But we’d forced ourselves to. Because this process had become painful enough without adding baby names to it.

  It was hard to believe all the pain and heartache was finally paying off. This entire year felt worth it knowing that by next March, we were going to be two fathers to a wonderful baby.

  “You’re going to be a great father, you know,” I told Peter suddenly. “You really do know that, right?”

  “Actually, I do.” He smiled. “I guess I can thank Jake for that. Helping you with him over the years, especially that time when Sabrina couldn’t completely care for him herself, really taught me a lot about what kind of parent I can be. I’m a lot more confident than I used to be.”

  I was positively delighted to hear that. Everything felt like it was coming together in the most perfect way.

  I’d had this feeling before. Funnily enough, I’d had it on this very day five years ago. When we all spent Halloween night in Sabrina’s room after discovering she would eventually recover. That night, I felt like I was finally getting my family back.

  And on this night, I was getting to start my own family. A family I would bring into the beautiful one we already got. I didn’t think I’d ever feel more complete than I did in this very moment.

  Peter smiled at me and then repeated to me something I’d told him on Halloween night, five years ago.

  “I see a future in you,” he said softly. “A wonderful future where we raise a child to be a fantastic, caring, wonderful little human being.”

  I kissed him softly. “Yeah, I see that too.”

  “We’re really doing this, baby. We’re really going to be dads.”

  “Better practice your dad jokes,” I teased.

  “Fuck, I am literally so excited!” he squealed, ignoring my comment.

  “Hi excited, I’m Dad,” I said with a cheesy smile.

  He rolled his eyes. “Lame, just so freaking lame.”

  “What? I’m practicing! And, uh, yeah, we’re parents now. We’re going to be lame until the end of time. Lame and completely boring.”

  He laid his head on my shoulder. “Lame, boring, and completely in love.”

  “That too.” I took his hand in mine. “Boringly in love until the end of time.”

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  Baked in Love

  14

  Miles

  Miles

  “Hello?” I called out into my apartment as I opened the door, trying to figure out if my fiancé was home.

  It didn’t seem like she was, which was weird because she was usually off work by now. A sense of relief washed over me. I loved when I had the apartment to myself.

  All right, that sounded bad. It wasn’t that I hated my fiancée or anything. It was just that we spent a lot of time together and I didn’t get a lot of time to myself. Plus, we had definitely fallen into a routine with one another at this point and we mostly sat around and watched TV when she was here.

  I collapsed on the couch, preparing myself to play some video games and grab a beer from the fridge when I heard her voice.

  “Miles? Is that you?”

  Disappointment rushed over me. Damnit, she was home.

  She walked down the hallway, coming from our bedroom.

  “Hey, Chelsea,” I said softly.

  She was putting on a jacket as she came into the living room.

  “Babe, I’m so glad you’re here! Do you want to go to the bakery with me?”

  “Uh, well, not really,” I admitted. “What are you doing to the bakery for?”

  “To taste test for our wedding cake, of course.”

  Oh, right, I forgot that was a thing.

  I really didn’t like doing any of this wedding stuff. I simply couldn’t bring myself to care much about it. Though that was normal among men, right? It was the girls that got all stoked on the wedding. I was sure it was normal that I was less than thrilled.

  “Babe, come on, you haven’t done any wedding planning with me at all. Wasn’t this whole thing your idea?”

  If by that she meant I was the one who proposed then, yes, of course it was. But that didn’t mean I was stoked to get married or anything.

  Me and Chelsea had been together since we were in high school. She was my first girlfriend ever. We were both in our mid-twenties now and I knew i
t was time to propose. That was what any decent man would do. You were an asshole if you strung a woman along for a decade and then didn’t marry her. It was the right thing to do, and I was the kind of man who always chose to do the right thing if at all possible.

  But, no, just because I was willing to do the right thing didn’t mean I was excited to do it. It was a sacrifice I had to make for the sake of my morals. And I was willing to make it.

  Besides, we’d already been together a decade. I didn’t imagine we were ever going to break up.

  “I don’t have that much interest in the wedding planning, that’s all,” I told her. I knew she wouldn’t take too kindly to me telling her I proposed out of moral obligation.

  “As a favor to me, please? I’m not asking you to look at dresses. Come eat some cake, is that really that torturous?”

  I sighed. “I guess not.”

  “Fantastic, thank you.”

  “No problem,” I mumbled.

  So much for a night to myself.

  I grabbed the keys to my car and stood up to leave with her. This was the last thing I wanted to do after a long day at work, but I didn’t see how I had much of a choice. It was clearly very important to her.

  So this would be a small sacrifice on my part. And, if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t make many sacrifices for her lately.

  Like I said, I cared deeply for Chelsea. She’d been my closest friend since high school and was a huge part of my life. But lately, it felt like we were in a rut of routine. We did the same thing every day. We ate dinner in silence. We watched television before bed. Things felt a little… disconnected.

  I knew we hadn’t been the fairytale romance she wished we were. But, frankly, we’d never had a romance like that anyway. Even in high school, we didn’t exactly have a relationship full of passion.

  It was Chelsea that went after me when we were fourteen years old. She had a crush and she told me so. I wasn’t all that interested in her, but a few of my guy friends encouraged me to go for it. I’d never had a girlfriend before, never so much as kissed a girl on the cheek. I was a late bloomer. My friends were trying to get me to move forward from that.

  And because I gave in to peer pressure, I agreed to go out with her. There weren’t a lot of sparks and I didn’t even really know how to treat a girlfriend back then. She took the lead on that front and planned all of our dates. It was Chelsea that pushed forward the romance. Eventually, I reached a level of comfort with her and it became easier to be with her.

  It pretty much stayed that way throughout our relationship. She never got big, corny gestures of romance from me. I never declared my undying passion for her. I was just in this with her; I was a life partner.

  It wasn’t glamorous, but that was life, right? Life wasn’t some extravagant romance movie. When you were in a relationship with someone, you were in it because they were your partner in life. You chose to be with someone when you were comfortable enough with them to build a life together.

  So that was pretty much what I was doing. I was building a life with Chelsea. I’d been with her long enough, she was a good girl, and she deserved the commitment from me. So I hid my hesitance to the best of my ability and was trying to give her all that I could.

  It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes I felt downright terrified to get married. What would come next? We bought our first house? We tried for kids? We got started on the rest of our lives?

  It was daunting, to say the least. But I stuffed down my fears for the sake of keeping Chelsea happy. She really was a good girl, and she deserved to be happy.

  I drove us to the bakery. There was only one in our small town so I didn’t need directions. I’d never actually been there before, though. They were an expensive little shop that made a lot of custom specialty items. I’d never had a need for any custom baked goods.

  Our ride there was silent for the first five minutes, which didn’t surprise me at all. Most of our time together was spent quietly lately. I didn’t mind.

  But apparently Chelsea did, because after about five minutes, she tried to break the silence.

  “So, how was your day?” she asked.

  “Fine,” I answered shortly.

  “Did anything interesting happen at work?”

  “Of course not,” I answered. “I made a lot of sales calls and did a lot of paperwork, as always.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming a little defeated. “Okay then.”

  I probably should have returned the question by asking her about her work but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn't want to start up any more awkward conversation. I was honestly enjoying the quiet. And I knew as soon as we got to this bakery I was going to be bombarded by wedding talk.

  At least when we arrived and walked in, I was hit with the sweet smell of cake. I did have a bit of a sweet tooth so this probably wouldn’t be that bad.

  It was a cute little ;shop, it had a very retro look. The floor was made of black and white tiles, and the walls were painted a bright teal color. There was a bell that hung on the door to signal a customer walking in.

  The bell, at least, didn't seem like it was for decoration. Because when we walked in, there was nobody at the counter. Though we quickly heard somebody yell from the back of the shop.

  “I’ll be right out!”

  Before he came, Chelsea whispered to me. “I know you don’t like any of this wedding stuff, but I really think this will be fun.” She smiled softly.

  “Yeah, hopefully it will.”

  A man in a traditional baker’s uniform came out from behind the counter, drying his hands off with a towel.

  “Sorry about the wait.” He smiled. “You must be Chelsea and Miles?”

  “Yes, so nice to meet you.” Chelsea extended her hand.

  I smiled and did the same.

  He seemed like a friendly enough guy, though besides the uniform he didn’t look much like a baker. He had more of a lumberjack look to him. A lot of scruffy facial hair, dark curly brown hair, a very masculine face. Objectively, he was not a bad looking guy.

  I felt a little less manly standing next to him, though. Which was weird because I wasn’t scrawny by any stretch of the imagination. I spent a fair amount of time at the gym and prided myself on being in shape. But he was far bulkier than me.

  “So, I’ve already got a few sample flavors on a platter for you, let me just grab it and I’ll grab my photo album of past cakes and we can get started.”

  “Sounds good.” Chelsea grinned.

  All right, the cake samples I could get behind, the photo album not so much.

  We sat down at a little white table off to the side of the shop and waited while he came back with a large book and an even larger sample platter of cakes.

  “Okay then, so how many people are we going to be feeding with this cake?” he asked as he sat down.

  “About a hundred,” Chelsea answered.

  “A hundred, really?” I asked without thinking.

  She gave me a dirty glance. “Yeah, one hundred, I told you just last week how large the guest list was.”

  I gave an awkward smile to her and the baker. “Guess I wasn’t paying too much attention.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned to the baker. “I’m sure you get this a lot, men who aren’t terribly interested in wedding planning.”

  “Oh, every now and again. But actually most guys who come in here seem pretty excited. But what do I know? I’m the cake guy. Who can’t get behind a free cake tasting, huh?”

  She gave a polite smile but I could tell she was disappointed with this answer.

  The baker continued. “So, are you thinking something three tiered?” he asked.

  “Yes, I want to keep it traditionally white and I was hoping to have a different flavor for every tier.”

  “Not a problem.” He smiled. “Let’s go ahead and try some flavors, then.”

  It was a very organized platter. It was covered in small square pieces of cake and coming out of
the top were toothpicks labeling each flavor.

  I picked up a chocolate, which was actually really amazing. It was the perfect amount of moist. Chelsea had picked up the chocolate with me.

  “Oh my God.” She moaned. “This is amazing.”

  “It is really, really good,” I added.

  “Why thank you.” He smiled in a prideful kind of way.

  “I already know this will be the biggest layer of cake. I am a chocoholic,” said Chelsea.

  “It’s always a fan favorite,” he agreed. “Can’t go wrong with that. Here, let’s take a look at some styles.”

  I continued eating as Chelsea flipped through his wedding cake cook. In addition to the classic flavors like chocolate and vanilla, there was red velvet, Oreo cream, strawberry, and coconut, and they were all delicious.

  If I had to choose, I didn’t even know what I’d decide. But, thankfully, I knew I didn’t have to. This would all be Chelsea’s decision. I didn’t even bother glancing over at the cakes until she exclaimed, “This one! Oh, it’s so perfect!”

  “You’d want something exactly like this, then?” he asked.

  “Maybe not as many flowers on the middle row. But yes, other than that, I think this is the one.”

  I glanced over. It seemed like a boring cake to me. It was all white with these orchid-looking decorative flowers surrounding it. For a cake that was going to cost us hundreds, it seemed like we should get something that looked less boring.

  “What do you think?” Chelsea asked me.

  “I think it looks great,” I lied.

  “Okay, looks like that’s what we’re going with, then.” He smiled.

  “I do have one question, uh, sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “It’s Aidan, I apologize. I probably didn’t mention it earlier. I’ve been a little rushed today, trying to get everything finished for the night by six because I’ve got a game night tonight with some friends.”

  “Oh, a game night? What kind of games?” Chelsea asked eagerly.