The Omega's Dearest Baby

by Louise Bourgeois

  She stood up and opened a locked cabinet, saying over her shoulder, “Side effects include oily skin and acne, mood swings, bloating and high blood pressure, so I’m going to want to see you again soon. Hop up onto the table for me, and drop your jeans.”

  She was quick and efficient, and Noah barely felt the injection, then Rhian said, “All done.”

  ***

  Vincent was working in his studio, not really painting, just spreading paint around when Noah’s footsteps echoed up the stairwell and he pushed the studio door open.

  Vincent looked up expectantly and Noah demanded, “Quick, the T-shot is working, take me to a hardware store or a sports bar.”

  Laughing was the only option, and Vincent found himself, palette knife laden with paint still in one hand, pushed back against the workbench behind him. “It’s not funny,” Noah warned, and something about the way Noah pushed his thigh between Vincent’s made Vincent’s body agree. Humorous, no. Hot, hell yeah.

  “Not laughing anymore,” Vincent agreed, and he wrapped his free arm around Noah’s hips and pulled their bodies closer together.

  When Noah kissed him, teeth clicking together, lips twisting, saliva slick tongue thrusting into his mouth, Vincent groaned. They had never kissed much before Emily was conceived, and during the pregnancy they had been gentle and slow; but this was physically demanding, sexually intoxicating, out of control. Vincent dropped his palette knife blindly and used that hand to grip Noah’s scalp and push their mouths harder together.

  Taking a deep breath before another onslaught, Vincent tried desperately to work out if six weeks had passed as Noah’s hands began to pull at his shirt, when there was a cry from Emily.

  They heard it twice, once through her open bedroom door, the second time tinnily through the baby monitor attached to Noah’s belt.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Noah said, then he was gone and Vincent could hear him picking Emily up, opening the bar fridge that was in her room storing the day’s formula bottles ready made up, dropping the bottle into the warmer.

  He was changing her diaper while the bottle warmed up when Vincent leant against the door frame. Noah’s eyes still held some of the old fire when he looked at Vincent, Emily crying against his shoulder. Vincent said, “Tonight. We’ll have time tonight.”

  At the dinner table, Vincent ate one-handed while Emily grizzled on his other shoulder. They were eating chili dogs from the freezer because neither of them had managed to go food shopping, and there was nothing else left. Noah was nodding over his dinner, nearly asleep and Vincent felt disappointed. After a brief and tantalizing taste of Noah, it looked like he’d be jerking off in his studio again that night.

  Noah was deeply asleep when Vincent looked into the bedroom after settling Emily again. It was half past eight, and Noah was snoring quietly in their bed. Vincent closed the bedroom door, and then his studio door so he didn’t disturb Noah.

  Noah woke suddenly, moaning softly. Emily hadn’t woken him for a change, his own body had. He was hard, not early-morning-piss-hard, this was full-on-raging-erection-hard. He clutched himself through his boxers, then slid a hand inside them to hold himself properly.

  It felt so fucking good, just touching himself, he was going to come any moment, that was obvious. No way was he doing it alone, not after all this time.

  He rolled over, groaning again as he pushed his boxers down and then rubbed his cock against Vincent’s ass, grateful that Vincent slept naked. “Wake up,” he said, shaking Vincent’s shoulder gently.

  Vincent mumbled for a moment, said, “My turn with Emily?” sleepily, then more clearly, “Jesusfuckingchrist, is that what I think it is?”

  Noah bit Vincent’s shoulder hard and groaned, and Vincent scrabbled around in his top bedside drawer. “Ow, just looking for lube.”

  Noah licked the mark on Vincent’s shoulder and ground his hips forward. “No time for that, just do something now, I’m about to come.”

  For a man who had been asleep seconds before, Vincent moved fast. He had Noah on his back, the covers thrown off and Noah’s cock in his mouth in seconds.

  Noah arched his back and grabbed Vincent’s hair at the first touch of his mouth. The first hard suck pushed Noah screaming over the edge, and he pumped his cock into Vincent’s mouth hard.

  Noah was asleep again within moments, exhausted, and Vincent propped himself up one elbow to watch him sleep. The taste of Noah lingered in his mouth, wonderfully familiar again. He was achingly hard himself now, but was ignoring that, hoping it would go away by itself. The bedroom door was ajar, and he could hear Emily beginning to whimper in her cot. He was very glad Ben was at Ella’s that night, Noah had made a hell of a lot of noise coming, and Ben would have been all dour and disapproving if he had been woken up by Noah screaming.

  They would have to sleep with the bedroom door closed from now onwards, and use the baby monitor to hear Emily during the night. He lay back down, arm around Noah.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ben was still glowering when Vincent stood at the bottom of the stairs and pointed up towards Ben’s room. “Go on, go and get it.”

  There was resentment in the set of Ben’s shoulders as he stomped up the stairs, and Vincent turned to look at Ella and shrugged. She was looking glum too, and Vincent suspected she wasn’t going to be any more sympathetic to Ben’s cause once she got him home.

  Ben was back in a minute with a coil of blue LAN cable in his hand. “But Dad,” he said and Vincent shook his head and took the coil off Ben. “You get it back when you get up to a B average in all subjects. Until then, you are offline at both houses.”

  Ben kicked his feet a little and looked bitter, and Ella said sternly, “If you want to get online, instead of buying cigarettes with your allowance, you’ll have to go to an internet café.” She pointed at the front door, and Ben slunk off. She kissed Vincent on the cheek and recited their mantra: “United we stand, divided we repeat ourselves.”

  Vincent kissed her on the cheek too and shrugged, looking at his son’s retreating back. “I was hideous at 16.”

  Ella nodded. “So was I, but that doesn’t mean we can’t outmaneuver him.”

  Vincent closed the front door after Ella and Ben had left, and locked it. He turned and a puzzled look crossed his face when he realized the house was silent, and went to find out why it was in darkness. The reason was stretched out on the couch in the family room, Emily asleep on his chest, both of them wrapped in the large purple and blue quilt that Tami had made.

  Vincent knelt silently down beside the couch to pick up the empty formula bottle and the cup of cold and congealing coffee, and a pile of papers. He stacked the pages and put them on the dining table and went to see what he could defrost for dinner.

  Vincent was bending down, crack of his ass showing as he rummaged in the freezer when Noah, yawning and scratching himself, leant against the kitchen door frame.

  “Hey,” he said. “How was the parent-teacher meeting?”

  Vincent stood up, packets of frozen chicken tikka in his hands. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  Noah shook his head. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he yawned. “How did it go with Ben’s teachers?” he asked again, rubbing one eye.

  “The parent-teacher meetings were informative, and possibly enjoyed least by Ben out of all of us,” Vincent replied, closing the freezer. “We learnt a lot, which is something that Ben doesn’t seem to have done to date, according to both his results and his teachers. Ella has taken him home to slow torture him.” He paused for a moment, almost feeling sympathy for Ben, until he recalled some of the comments of the teachers. “Chicken tikka with rice OK for dinner?”

  Noah nodded, yawning again, and leant across to put the percolator on. He functioned solely on coffee now.

  Vincent loaded the rice cooker and put the chicken in the convection oven to heat, then pointed to the dining table. “Are you thinking of going back to work?”

  Noah folded his arms across his che
st “Will we manage with Emily if I’m at work?” he said with a small frown. “You won’t get any time to write or paint if you’ve got her full-time.”

  “Start the process,” Vincent replied simply. He replaced the lid of the cooker and turned to Noah. “They need to know you’ve got a child as it could affect you whilst you’re working.”

  Noah nodded, his mind working through all the pros and cons. “What if Emily was to… I dunno, get sick or something?”

  Vincent looked at him. “That’s why you need to tell work about her,” he said. He thought for a moment, then continued. “Perhaps we should hire a nanny. I know I can cope if I’m getting some decent sleep, and there’s nothing wrong with me taking a few months break. But it wouldn’t hurt to think about it,” he shrugged. “If you want to do this, then do it,” Vincent reasoned.

  ***

  Vincent stood in the bathroom, towel in his hands, while Noah and Emily had a shower. “What did you decide?”

  Noah pushed the sliding door open a little and Emily smiled at Vincent when she caught sight of him.

  Vincent cooed at her, the water from the shower splashed him, and Noah said, “I’m going back to work. I’m going to be behind on a lot of things though.”

  Vincent eyed Noah speculatively. “I like looking at you from behind.”

  A tube of shower gel hit Vincent in the chest and Noah said, “Don’t you listen to your da, Emmie, he’s just a dirty old man.”

  Noah handed Emily out of the shower into the towel Vincent was holding.

  The shower turned off and Noah stepped out. He began to dry himself, and Vincent threaded Emily’s arms into her coverall. Noah pulled a pair of Vincent’s jeans on, and a sweater, and bent forward over Emily to kiss her cheek.

  “You’re dripping on her,” Vincent pointed out.

  Noah followed Vincent through the bedroom to Emily’s room. He frowned a little and pushed his hands into the waist band of his borrowed jeans. Vincent dropped a bottle into the warmer and sat in the rocker, Emily in his arms while he waited for it to warm up.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Emily was lying on her back on her sheepskin on the bedroom floor when Noah pushed the door open. “Hello, Emmie,” he said. “Where’s your dada?”

  She smiled at him and pulled her shoulders up a little, and he knelt down and blew a raspberry on her tummy, making her smile even more.

  “I’m here,” Vincent’s voice said, and Noah turned his head to one side and peered under the bed.

  Vincent was wedged under the far side of the bed, electric drill in his hand.

  “What?” Noah asked. “Why?”

  “Grab Emily, I’m about to use the drill and it makes her jump.”

  Noah lay down on the floor and picked Emily up and put her on his chest. “There, there,” he said to her soothingly as the drill whined and she jerked.

  When the drill stopped, Noah said, “What exactly are you doing?”

  Vincent appeared around the bottom of the bed, drill and toolbox in hand. “I’m attaching the bed to the wall studs with brackets.”

  Comprehension dawned on Noah. “We did do some damage then? Last night, that horrible noise was something structural?”

  Vincent put the drill and toolbox on the bed and took Emily off Noah’s chest. “Have a look down the back of the bed.”

  Noah clambered across the bed and looked down behind the back of the bedhead. One of the sheets of wall cladding had split completely and was partially caved in too. “Uh oh. Guess we were really going for it.”

  “Yep. If we ever sell the house, I’ll have to reclad this room.”

  Noah hid his smile by examining the damage behind the bed again. He was always touched when Vincent called the house ‘theirs’.

  “How was the interview?” Vincent asked when Noah stood up again. “How’d it go?”

  Noah sat back down on the bed and took Emily again. “It went really well.”

  Emily made a contented noise as she accidentally found her fist with her mouth, and Noah kissed her dark hair where it was starting to curl. “Good to be working again?” Vincent asked, a smile warming him through as he watched Noah and their daughter together.

  Noah smiled and nuzzled Emily’s hair. “It was great...”

  ***

  Willa had been delighted to see Noah again, and had actually squealed over Emily, along with all of her office staff. She’d kissed Noah’s cheek, ran a critical eye over him, no doubt listing complaints about scruffy, too large jeans and baggy shirts away for future reference. She’d also not asked any difficult questions about Emily, beyond, “Is she yours?”

  She had never believed that Noah was in rehab, Noah knew that from her emails insisting he return to work as soon as possible. Now, Noah wasn’t sure what sort of conclusions she had drawn when he carried Emmie into her office, but he was sure they weren’t the right ones.

  She had held Emily while he went through the paperwork.

  She didn’t lecture him about his break up from Kaycie either, much to his relief. Or about his future plans. Whatever loss of status he had suffered career-wise had certainly made her easier to deal with.

  In the lifts afterwards, Emily grizzled at him, and he patted the bag he had slung on his back. “In a moment, Emmie,” he said. “Hang in there, sweetie, let’s go sit in the café.”

  The waitress admired Emily and offered him hot water when he pulled a bottle and a sachet of formula out of the backpack, and he shook his head. “Just a latte for me, please. I’ve got warm water with me.” He mixed the bottle one handed, quickly screwing the top on.

  The waitress had hovered for a moment, looking sentimentally at Emily as the infant set about draining her bottle, eyes closed in bliss, held safely in Noah’s arms.

  Noah hadn’t wanted to bring Emily with him to his appointment with Willa, it was Vincent who had pushed him, saying it was another step to returning to work. Vincent was right, Willa needed to know that any future career path had to allow for a baby, and there was no way she could pretend she didn’t know now.

  His latte arrived, and the waitress hovered again, eyes on Emily, until Noah looked at her meaningfully. He was engrossed in a newspaper, waiting for his coffee to cool enough for him to be able to drink it over Emily, when someone called out, “Noah?” He looked up to find Kaycie making her way across the café towards him, smile on her face, eyes fixed on Emily. Noah watched her sit down, briefcase beside her, at his table.

  “Hello, Kaycie,” he replied.

  “Is this…?” Kaycie asked, finally looking at Noah. “Is this your baby?”

  “This is Emily,” Noah said. “She’s nine weeks old.” Emily opened her eyes when Noah said her name and peered up at him. Her eyes had changed to brown already, deep brown like Noah’s.

  “She’s gorgeous, she looks so much like you,” Kaycie said. She looked up at Noah. “Have you been to see Willa? Did Willa pass on my message to you?”

  Noah nodded. “She sent me an email saying that you had asked her to send on your best wishes. Thanks for that, that was generous of you.”

  Kaycie looked pleased. “That’s good. I hadn’t expected to see you here, couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you across the café. I thought you’d gone back to England, perhaps to your mom while…” and her voice trailed off.

  Noah nodded. “I went away while I was waiting for Emily, but I live back here now. If I want to return to work, this is where I need to be.”

  Kaycie looked at Noah. “I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I handled that badly, taking off in your car.”

  Noah shook his head. “I’d betrayed your trust, you were entitled to be angry and hurt”

  Kaycie gazed at him. “I still shouldn’t have just abandoned you there.”

  Noah shrugged and looked at her. “It’s alright, Kaycie. I called Vincent and he came and got me.” Kaycie’s eyes narrowed a little and dropped back down to Emily, who was mostly asleep now, leisurely sucking the last of h
er bottle.

  “Vincent?” she said, and Noah felt a little uncomfortable at the hostility in her tone. “Vincent? Is he…?”

  Noah nodded, and took the empty bottle out of Emily’s mouth, put it on the table and lifted her up against his shoulder. “Vincent is Emily’s other parent,” he said simply.

  Kaycie’s mouth pursed up a little, and Noah wondered for a moment if she’d had collagen injections. “But he’s….”

  Noah didn’t try and stop Kaycie. After everything, it would have been rude to try and silence her.

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you cheated on me with him,” she finally said quietly.

  Noah looked away across the café for a moment. “I’m sorry, Kaycie.”

  Kaycie looked at Emily again, now completely asleep against Noah shoulder. “Does he look after her? And you? Has he stood by you?”

  Noah nodded, and Emily’s hair tickled his chin. “He’s been wonderful.”

  Kaycie pushed her chair back and picked up her briefcase. “I’m glad everything worked out for you. And you don’t have to worry, I’ve never told anyone.”

  Noah noticed she was wearing a rock sized diamond on her left ring finger and nodded at it. “Congratulations. You must be pleased.”

  Kaycie looked down at her hand with a satisfied glance. “Yes, I am.” She looked at Emily again. “It’s hard to believe that she was the tiny shape I saw on the ultrasound screen. I’m glad she’s ok.”

  Noah nodded. “She’s perfect, this little angel that has come to live with us.”

  Kaycie stood up. “I’ll see you around. All the best with Emily.” Then she was gone.

  Noah kissed the top of Emily’s head and wondered what Kaycie’s dislike of Vincent was based on specifically. He shrugged mentally. As Ben would say, Not His Fucking Problem. He stood up with Emily in his arms, dropped the empty bottle into his backpack and went to pay for his untouched latte.

  CHAPTER TWENTY