by Sean Kennedy
He thought for a long bit. “Who knows? Luckily we were both on the same page. Oh, her family likes to think I’m the bad guy, not wanting to give them grandchildren, but it’s both of us. I guess it’s just more acceptable to think the guy doesn’t want kids, because people freak out if a woman feels that way.”
“But what if it just happened?” I asked. “Pregnancies can happen, even if you don’t mean them to. Unless, again, you’re gay. So I’ve heard.”
Abe gave a small laugh. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge if it ever comes.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“Do you want kids?” he suddenly asked me.
Wow. I didn’t even know how to begin to answer that. “Sometimes I think I do.”
“Why?”
And there was the answer. Somehow all it took was one other person to ask the question. “Have you seen Dec? It would be criminal for that man not to have kids. He would be perfect at it.”
Abe held his palm in the air, and I self-consciously slapped it with my own. And then hurriedly downed the rest of my beer.
“You know,” Abe said, “I don’t think you would be too bad at it, either.”
It gave me a warm fuzzy to think that another human being believed I could be capable of looking after other tiny little human beings. “Me? Oh god, I’d leave them on the tram and remember two days later.”
“Dec would remind you when you got home. Besides, I don’t think it would be a bad thing if there were to be little Simon Murrays running around in the world.”
I thought it sounded terrifying. Like a 1950s science fiction movie where some sardonic, foul-mouthed children terrorised a small village.
But there were the warm fuzzies again.
Coby came around the corner, saw us sitting there, and immediately backtracked.
“That was weird,” Abe remarked.
“You have no idea. I don’t know what’s up with him at the moment.”
“He seemed fine when Lisa and I had dinner with him last week. Anything happen since then?”
“No, this thing between us has been going on longer than that.”
“Yeah, because he seemed really happy when we saw him. Like, bizarrely happy.”
“Bizarre is his middle name.”
“I think you’ll find it’s actually David.”
“It could be he’s got a boyfriend,” I said, and told him about the conversation I had overheard.
“Maybe that’s why he’s acting weird around you,” Abe said. “Because you do shit like eavesdrop on him.”
I ignored that. “Did he say anything to you guys when you saw him?”
“Nope. If he has a boyfriend, he’s keeping it secret from everyone.”
“I know he’s been talking to Dec, though. Of course, Dec won’t tell me what’s going on as he’s a paragon of virtue.”
“Maybe they’re having an affair,” Abe said.
“Yeah, that’s it.” We both knew it was so far from possibility we could joke about it without any inkling of alarm.
“Coby is a younger and cuter version of you.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t have my personality,” I scoffed.
“Oh,” Abe laid his hand upon my arm in sorrow. “Poor you. You really think that’s a plus?”
I was lucky I always had my friends to destroy any ego I had before it could take hold. Abe, however, was amused by his own wit and almost choked on his beer.
I mulled over the possibilities. Coby had been up to something for a while, and it was time to find out. Maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, after all. Maybe he had a job offer elsewhere and was too scared to tell me. I would be sad to see him go, but he was my friend, and that wouldn’t change our friendship.
Unless, of course, he was dying?
No, Dec wouldn’t have kept that a secret. I laughed as a bizarre thought crossed my mind.
“What?”
“Maybe it’s a girlfriend.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“I guess I did say ‘bizarre’ was his middle name.”
“Heterosexuality is bizarre now, is it?” Abe laughed.
“Well, technically, it wouldn’t be heterosexuality, would it? It would be bisexuality. Trust Coby to want to buck against the trend.”
“What are you two talking about?” Dec asked, making us both jump.
“The rainbow of sexuality,” Abe said.
“Of course. Hey, Simon, Luciana wants to talk to us.”
I felt dread blossom in the pit of my stomach. “Really? Can you just tell her you couldn’t find me and you’ll pass on the message?”
“Suit up, big boy,” Abe teased. “What are you scared of?”
“I think I know what this conversation’s going to be about.”
Abe looked puzzled, and Dec shook his head. “He’s being paranoid.”
“Simon? Our Simon, paranoid?”
“I’m not paranoid if people are talking about me, which you guys are,” I pointed out.
“He has a fair point,” Abe said to Dec.
“Don’t feed his delusions.”
“Right here, guys,” I reminded them.
Dec took me by the arm. “Come on, babe.”
“Dead man walking,” I intoned solemnly.
Luciana was waiting at the side of the house, underneath a red lantern that gave her a foreboding look.
Dec’s hand slipped into mine, and I was grateful for it. He had an easygoing smile on his face; mine was forced and showing too much teeth.
“Simon,” she greeted me pleasantly. “I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to you all day. Either of you, actually.”
“It’s good to remedy it,” Dec said.
Oh my god, he could turn on the charm so naturally. And it was never fake.
“Yeah, cool,” I said. Charm was never one of my talents.
Dec squeezed my hand, trying to calm me. My palms were sweaty and threatening to slide out of his grip.
“But I think everybody’s been wanting a piece of you tonight as the godparents to my grandchildren.”
“It’s an honour,” Dec said.
“Yes, it’s very cool,” I said. Obviously my vocabulary was more limited than I knew.
Luciana gave me a funny look. “Are you okay, Simon?”
“Yeah, fine.” At least I didn’t use cool.
“He’s nervous,” Dec said, having to step in for me. “It’s a big responsibility. But it’s not like we’re not up for it.”
I nodded, not trusting anything that could come out of my mouth.
“I have to admit, when Francesca and Roger told me of their decision, I was disappointed.”
I knew it! But I still kept silent.
“I’m sure you were hoping it was one of your other kids that would be chosen,” Dec said.
Luciana nodded. “You can’t blame me for that, can you?”
Dec shook his head.
She looked at me. I shook my head.
“But it was Francesca’s decision—and Roger’s too, of course.”
Poor Rog. Even his mother-in-law knew whose word was law in that household.
I found my voice. “Isn’t this all a moot point, anyway? Fran and Roger aren’t going anywhere.”
“You never know what’s going to happen,” Luciana said.
“Well, if you expect it, you’ll probably set it in stone.”
My hand was being crushed by Dec.
“I think what Simon is trying to say—”
“Oh, I know what he’s saying. But I wasn’t going to berate you for being godparents. I actually wanted to thank you.”
This was a turn of events.
“Huh?” I gaped at her.
“Georgina and Frankie wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the two of you.”
“I think you’ve definitely gotten confused on how babies are made,” I said.
Luciana laughed, and Dec’s grasp loosened. Maybe he thought it was safe enough to do so now.
“I know Francesca and Roger bear the greater responsibility for bringing those children into the world, but I didn’t know how they managed to do it after all the troubles they had. And that’s when they finally told me.”
Now it was Dec’s turn to look uncomfortable.
“They never told you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “We had given them some money—not much, but all we could afford—so we were worried when they went through so many treatments. Then when they told us who they wanted as godparents… well, I was being selfish. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t choose her own family. And finally to shut me up more than anything, because I was probably adding to her stress, she told me that you gave her the money.”
“We really didn’t want anyone to know,” Dec said.
“Like I said, I forced it out of her.”
“And it wasn’t given with any caveats,” I added.
“I know.” Luciana ran her fingers through her hair, a defensive gesture. I guessed her arguments with Fran must have been pretty intense. Fran didn’t break easily, and she knew how Dec wanted to keep it just between the four of us (although I assumed, of course, that Abe and Lisa probably knew—Abe through Dec, and Lisa through Fran). “The thing is, I now realise there is a good chance that if it hadn’t been for your help, my grandchildren might not be here today.”
Well, technically, none of us would be at this naming ceremony for two nonexistent children, but I kept it to myself. “I think you’re giving us way too much credit.”
“We just wanted to help our friends.” Dec’s hand was now the one that was sweaty—he always hated being put on the spot and getting too much praise for something he never intended to be praiseworthy. He would have been much happier if nobody had ever known about his financial contribution to the Dalton Baby Fund.
“That’s why you’re the perfect choice for godparents.” Luciana’s eyes were bright, and her speech quickened as if she wanted to make a getaway. “I wish I had seen that earlier.”
Before we could say anything, she was gone.
“Okay, that wasn’t at all what I expected.”
Dec remained silent.
“Hey.” I let go of his hand and hugged him instead. “Are you all right?”
“I’m just a bit… overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“And you haven’t run away! Progress,” I said, happily.
“Bastard,” he said, and his arms tightened around my shoulders as if I was holding him up.
“You did a good thing.”
He drew back. “I did a good thing?”
“Yeah.”
“No, we did a thing.”
“It was your money, really—”
A flash of anger swept over him. “After all this time, you think that way? It was our money, Simon. We’re together. Everything is ours.”
I kissed him. “Uh-uh. The TV’s mine. And Maggie.”
“This isn’t a time to be your usual snarky self. I’m being serious.”
“I know.”
“If we could get married, this wouldn’t be an issue.”
That simple fact, never forgotten, still burned. And it burned him, too.
“We don’t need a piece of paper,” I said, quoting the oft-said but rarely believed line. Truth was, marriage allowed you more rights and freedoms than a de facto relationship—gay or straight. It would have made things far more concrete, and far more stable. Not at all within our relationship—it was rock steady—but financially. Dec made sure everything was set out clearly in paperwork, but marriage would have erased the necessity.
“Maybe,” he said. “But it would be nice.”
“Yes, it would.”
And that was probably the closest we ever came to a marriage proposal. Deep down, we couldn’t bear thinking of planning for something so intangible given the current politics and government of our country, which was supposedly built upon the mantra of a fair go for everybody.
“Why are you guys hiding back here?” Lisa appeared before us, swaying a little on her high heels. “You’re missing drunk Roger dancing.”
I snuggled in closer to Dec. “We can see that any weekend.”
“Stop being so cutesy and coupley,” she said, grabbing both our hands. “Let’s dance!”
On our way over to the tarpaulin sail that was serving as a dance floor “roof”, I saw my parents sitting to the side of it. Mum was sitting with a twin on each knee.
“Just look at her,” I told Dec.
“What?”
“She’s the one you’ve got to watch out for—if Fran and Roger do mysteriously disappear, you can go to the prime suspect with the two new grandchildren.”
Dec laughed. “I’ll make Derek check over their car once a week.” Derek was one of his older brothers. He ran his own garage and had saved my old bomb from many an early death until the day it finally gave up the ghost.
“More like every day. She’s persistent.”
Mum caught sight of us and managed to give a small wave from the wrist, which was impressive as she was still protectively holding both babies. Dad raised his beer.
“That is a talent,” Dec mused.
“The kid-juggling or the beer-holding?”
But I watched his face light up, his grin saying more about his love for family than any words could. Things were going to reach critical mass pretty soon, and standing in that charmingly lit garden I knew something—or someone—would have to give.
Marriage and babies—perhaps two of the thorniest issues for gay men spending the rest of their lives together, and they were smacking me in the face with their desire for resolution.
“The beer-holding, of course,” Dec said, finally. Then he snapped out of it, and pulled me over to where Fran was the meat to a Lisa and Roger sandwich.
Those parents weren’t going out gracefully, and I swore I never would either.
Chapter 4
SUNDAY MORNING found me buried under Dec’s arm, my head pounding as the sound of my mobile ringing insisted it be picked up.
“Kill it,” Dec mumbled.
“Gladly.”
I fumbled, trying to make it stop, but it slipped from my fingers and went shooting under the bed. At least it was muffled a little.
“That better?” I asked.
But Dec was asleep again.
“HEY, COBY’S been calling you.”
My phone almost hit me in the head. I squinted at the screen. Four missed calls, all from the man himself.
“Can’t be that important,” I said.
Dec gave me a look. It was his patented you lying sack of shit, get off your arse and do what you have to do look. Except Dec would have been more polite about it; I was just translating in my own way.
“Oh, shut up,” I continued, even though he hadn’t said a word. “It’s just, when Coby calls that many times, it’s trouble. With the biggest of capital T’s. Like, the T is at sixty-four-point font while the rouble is at twelve.”
“Stop turning me on,” Dec said, straight-faced.
I mugged at him, and he mugged back. Another normal Sunday morning for us.
“Don’t you want to know what’s so important?”
“He’s been ignoring me for ages. It’s his turn now.”
“Ooookay.”
I rolled back onto my stomach. “I just want to sleep. Is that so bad?”
I was also pissed about the fact that Coby left the party without saying good-bye to me even though he managed to say it to everybody else. And now he wanted to talk? Sleep was a far better option.
“I’ll make you breakfast,” Dec bribed me.
“You do that pretty regularly. It’s nothing special.”
“Okay, if you want special, you can make me breakfast for a change.”
“Pfft,” I said to my pillow.
“Okay, you forced me to do this.”
Intrigued, I perked up and rolled over to look at him.
Dec was standing with my phone to h
is ear. “Oh, hi, Coby. What’s up?”
You utter bastard, I mouthed at him.
“Yep, he’s right here. I’ll put him on.” He threw the phone at me and it landed on top of the doona. “I’m off to make breakfast.”
But he remained standing there. When Coby picked up, I could hear him hushing someone. “Hi, Simon.”
“Yes, this is Simon.”
“I know. I called you.”
“I just thought you may have forgotten, you always seem to look as if you don’t know me whenever I see you.”
I could hear him shushing someone again.
“Where are you?”
“Home. Where are you?”
“Home.” This certainly wasn’t the most scintillating conversation I’d had. “Is there a reason you called?”
“Can we meet early in the morning?”
“No,” I whined. “It’s a Monday! Mondays are hard enough without forcing people to come into work earlier.”
“Calm down, Garfield. We just need to run through some things before the office fills up.”
These were the most words he had spoken to me as part of an actual conversation for fuck knows how long.
I noticed Dec watching me intently. He usually left me alone when I was discussing work with Coby, but I guess with the recent strain between us, he was making sure I was on my best behaviour to not make it worse. His presence itself should have been a major warning sign, but I was too tired to be like Ace of Base and open up my eyes to see it. Besides, my mind was wandering, consumed by Garfield analogies.
“You know that makes you Nermal, right?”
“I am cute enough.”
“And I do hate you.” Okay, that was a little harsh. But he had to know I wasn’t happy with the way he’d been acting lately. “Fine, what time?”
“Eight?”
“You have to bring me coffee. Real coffee. Not Starbucks. Hudsons, if you have to.” I wasn’t putting up with instant that I had to make myself.
“Okay.”
“And a pineapple donut.”
“Do you want to be as fat as Garfield, too?”
“That was uncalled for.”
It was also the first time he had jokingly insulted me in ages.
“See you at eight.”
I threw my phone back under the bed, and turned to see Dec still standing before me.