by Zoey Parker
After lunch, sure that I was now ensconced in a safe-as-it-could-be zone, Jack took off for the shop, so I was on my own with Peter until night. Making sure the baby was clean, fed, breathing well, of good color, and tired out, I laid down myself to catch some much-needed z’s. I never seemed to get enough, and it was a daily test to see how many little naps I could score. After yesterday’s crazy scary and crazy incredibly awesome events, I was dealing with emotional exhaustion, too.
I was gone in two seconds, flat.
Chapter 11
Jack
“Yo ho ho, he’s baaaack!” Ah, the sweet trills of Trini’s voice clanged in my ears.
“Watch it, Treens. I sign your checks.”
“No you don’t. I have direct deposit.”
I side-eyed her, and continued to the back of the shop.
“Jack-o, check this out.” I redirected to Grath’s station to see his latest masterpiece, a full-sleeve free-hander of spiral-wrapped text in some seriously old-school font. I couldn’t make it out for my life.
“What is that?”
The happy but pain-dazed client garbled, “‘To be, or not to be…’ in secretary han’. Izin it fabuloush?’” It was fabulous, but her own speech wasn’t.
“Nice work, man.” And I tipped my chin to Grath, who tipped his back at me and continued wiping her arm down.
Finally, I got back to my desk, and collapsed into it.
What a fucking crazy twenty-four hours: the fire-drill, the rock, the Brian story, the Peter story, the crazy grandmother trust fund, the marriage thing, and the sex. I couldn’t decide which I should be thinking about more. I wanted to focus only on the sex—by far the best part. By far. But the other issues, they each warranted some heavy-duty mind time.
I figured, first things first. Peter, the most vulnerable individual on the spectrum, had to come first. The test results were due to be available online at any time now. It had been more than a week since we sent them in, so I pulled up the website to check again.
Bingo! They were there. I clicked on the link and held my breath, praying they came out positive. I was actually nervous about it—my palms were a little sweaty—so I was glad to be doing this alone. Sure, maybe I should have waited so Ellie could see them, too, but this really wasn’t about her so much as it was just about me and Peter. And Keith. I needed to do this alone.
When the page opened, it was filled with graphs and metrics, and it took me a few minutes to comprehend what it was saying. Finally, though, I got it. Over 99% likelihood of avuncular relation. That was as close to certain as they could get.
I was Peter’s uncle. Peter was my brother’s son. I had Keith’s son—in my home, in my life. My eyes burned and felt a little wet, and I rubbed them down until the dust particles cleared out. I must have been just starting to fight a cold, too, ’cause I had to blow my nose a couple of times. Wow. I was an uncle. For real.
I suddenly knew how the Grinch felt on that hill, when his heart grew however many times bigger in a flash. It was all I could do to not go running back up to the front of the shop and jump up and down and run in circles and yell out my excitement.
But I was cool. I got it together. I couldn’t sit down, I couldn’t stand still. So I took off through the shop, filled with so much emotion I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, and made it outside without interruption. I started walking down the sidewalk, just to burn some energy, try to get my head straight again, when Grath caught up to me. He put a hand on my shoulder from behind, and I whipped around, backing up, needing space from everyone and everything.
He knew me well, and only put his hands in the air, like he was calming down some feral beast. Which, I guessed, I was.
“Whoa, dude. Chill. What’s up? What just happened?”
I took a few deep breaths. “I’m an uncle. Peter’s mine. No—Peter’s Keith’s son, man. Peter’s Keith’s son. I got Keith back. Peter’s mine.”
Grath’s eyes grew about twice as big, and a smile spread wide on his face, and he grabbed me in a bear hug I had no idea I needed. I felt awesome. As close to what I could guess a new daddy might feel. I felt incredible. I allowed the hug for a moment, then pounded his and backed up.
“Congratulations, man! Uncle Jack! We need cigars, man. So it’s official. Keith has a baby. You got Keith’s baby. That’s fucking beautiful.”
“Yeah. Right? It is. It’s fucking incredible.” I was still wrapping my head around it.
“It’s amazing. And you know for sure? How does that work?”
“Took a test last week, sent it into a lab, results posted online. Just saw ’em, right now. More than ninety-nine percent positive match between us. As sure as they can get.”
“Wow. That’s…I don’t even know what. Awesome.”
“It is.” I was nodding and smiling at him. “It is awesome.” And we laughed.
“You gotta go home, man. What are you doing here? Today, you just found out, you gotta go home. Spend the day with your nephew, and his mama.” He side-eyed me with a smirk. “I know that’ll be really tough on you. Painfully hard.” And he laughed at his own fucking joke.
I punched his arm, none too gently, and agreed. I should spend the rest of the day getting to know Peter better. Even though they’d been living in my house for over a week, and Ellie and I already planned to get married—soon, I reminded myself—I still had not really allowed myself to believe that Peter was Keith’s. I had wanted to, but at the same time I didn’t. Like, it was too much to hope for.
But now it was real. It was true. And I wanted to hold him in my hands, to feel his weight, and his little body warmth. I needed to connect with him. Priority one. Everything else, for the moment, fell away.
Chapter 12
Ellie
I heard Jack’s bike pull up the drive just as I was settling down with Peter for a feeding. I had him on the big nursing pillow, and I wasn’t well covered-up, but by this time, I had no modesty about it in front of Jack. He obviously enjoyed getting the eyeful, and I’m not sure how much of that was his liking to see my exposed breasts or watching the beauty that is a baby feeding from his mother. I didn’t really care, to be honest. I knew it to be a beautiful thing, and I was glad that Jack appreciated it, too.
What was strange was that Jack would be back so early in the day. So when I heard the door open, I called out, “What did you forget?”
“Nothing. Where are you?” And he immediately saw me on the couch, and pulled up short, looking at me and Peter in a kind of wonder. I raised my brow at him, but he seemed not to notice.
After a couple of moments of nothing, I asked, “Jack? You all right? Did something happen?”
His eyes met mine, and he seemed to snap back into the now. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. I’m…” He choked up, and his eyes got watery.
And I got worried. What in the world could make this man tear up? It was something bad. “Jack? Don’t scare me like this. What happened?”
“Nothing, babe. I’m fine. Just…goddamn it…something in my eye.” He rubbed at his face. Finally, he came into the room and joined us on the couch.
“Got some news today. I checked the test, online. Results were up. Positive. We’re a match. Peter… Peter’s my nephew. Keith’s son. For sure. He’s mine.”
Now my eyes welled up, realizing what a big moment this was for Jack, for Peter, and for myself. But mostly, really, it was about Jack. And Keith. It was huge.
I had known this to be true, and I’d hoped Jack would be moved by it, too.
For a moment, I felt awkward. Keith was back in the room, in a way that made me a little bit uncomfortable. I had, after all, slept with both brothers. Gah! This was such a weird situation. What a freaking mess.
But at the same time, it was kind of perfect. It was the best possible outcome, given the worst of circumstances with regard to Keith’s fatherhood of Peter and his far-too-early death.
Of course, I never had any doubt that the test results would show a posi
tive match, but it was an amazing load off that the question had been answered for Jack, and that he could now fully accept Peter into his life.
I now totally understood the tears that Jack had tried to hide. He was such a stereotypical badass—and such a beautiful man. I wanted to jump in his lap and just hug him for ages.
Jack, too, clearly needed to close the gap between himself and Peter. He leaned into us, putting his hand on the outside of Peter’s head, stroking his soft cranium and cheek gently and with awe.
“He’s really Keith’s son. This is my brother’s blood.” He lost words, and just gazed at the baby, who by this time was fighting the food coma, slipping between sleep and suck modes at random intervals. I figured he’d probably had enough by now, so I handed Jack a baby cloth to drape over his shoulder and said, “Petey, your uncle is going to burp you now, honey.” And I smiled at Jack as he froze in horror, all deer-in-headlights. I had to bite my tongue to hold in my laughter.
“I don’t…I can’t…Whaaa—“
“Oh, come on, Jack. You’ve watched me do this a thousand times by now. It’s not that hard. Just pat on his back kinda softly but firmly, so the air bubbles in his belly come out.”
“Yeah, but he always gets sick. It can’t be good for him.”
“He just loses some of the food with it. It doesn’t hurt him. And it’s only milk. You’ll be fine.”
I firmly placed the baby on his shoulder and walked away toward my room, purposefully not watching as Jack figured it out. I didn’t want to cave in to anybody’s pleading eyes—truth is, I was thrilled to finally have someone who might share some of the baby-care responsibilities.
I loved my baby, to the core of my being and beyond anything in this world, but it was exhausting being a single mommy to a newborn with medical issues. I’m sure it was exhausting for every mommy, but I only knew my own experience, and I was so ready for an extra set of eyes and hands to help out.
I just prayed that Jack would be as good as his word, and really stay on board. I knew he could opt out whenever he wanted; he was only Peter’s uncle, not his father. Still, I wanted Jack to be a constant, actively-engaged father figure to my son. I really wanted that for Peter. That was my ideal dream, the thing I would do just about anything to give to him. And I wanted my son to know him, to grow up with that example, and in the circle of Jack’s family, whoever else they might be.
Several minutes had passed by now, and I didn’t hear anything from the living room, so I poked my head out to see what they were up to. Jack was lying back on the couch, holding Peter by his sides sitting on top of his chest. Jack was making some rumbly noises and funny faces, and Peter was watching his face closely, sometimes reaching out a little hand to try to grab at Jack’s chin or nose or lips. They were beautiful together, and I found myself tearing up again.
I returned to my room, leaving them to spend some time alone. I knew that soon enough Jack would need my help to change Peter’s diaper—it wouldn’t serve to push Jack’s boundaries too hard, too fast. He’d be changing diapers within a few days, but right then, I thought, should just be about the good stuff for him. For them both.
# # #
After dinner that night, Jack and I were lounging on the couch with a couple of beers. Peter was asleep again, and we were in a comfortable lull. But I needed to talk, and he needed to hear what I had to say.
“Jack, I need us to be clear on something. First off, you have to know how thrilled I am that you are now sure about Peter being Keith’s. That’s huge—for you, and for Peter.”
“You gotta know, babe, I loved my brother. He was gone. He is gone. But now…now, I have a part of him back. And that baby…I need to be part of his life. You have to let me. You have to let me be for Peter what Keith can’t be. No matter what happens between us, I need that, and that baby needs that. He needs a man. He needs me. Don’t cut me out of his life. Ever.” He was looking at me hard, willing me with all of his energy to give him the assurance he needed.
Since it was exactly what I wanted for Peter as well, it was an easy give. “I swear to you, Jack, as long as you are good to and for him, I will never, ever, cut you off from him. But if you ever, even once, hurt—“
“I would never do that. I would never do that. You have to know that. Okay, Ellie? You follow? I swear to you. Peter comes first. I swear.”
We just looked at each other for a minute in silence, both of us feeling the weight of our promises to each other.
I broke it. “Good. So, we should also get on the same page about us, then. This marriage thing…” I wasn’t really sure how to say what I wanted to say, but he was already nodding.
“Yeah, okay, so. We need to not fuck this up.”
“Exactly. Whew. Yes. So I think…”
“We should not have sex again.”
I looked up at him, and he was leaning forward, forearms resting on his thighs, but his head was turned to me, gauging my reaction, dead serious.
I felt like a balloon that had suddenly lost its air. “Yeah. Yes. We shouldn’t.” It was right, it was true. But it was also depressing.
“Right. Because the last thing I want is for things to get rough between us. I won’t allow that, Ellie. Peter comes first. We are getting married. You need that money. Peter needs that money. And I need to make sure you have it, for your own peace of mind. That said, I want you to know that I expect to provide for you and Peter as much as Keith would. And he’d have been a solid provider, whether or not you two ever got together as a couple.”
“We never—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I know, I know you say that, and you believe that, and maybe it’s true. But with a baby in the picture, you can’t know that for sure. Keith would have made damn sure to be in that boy’s life, you gotta know that. And anything might have happened. So you can’t say for certain that nothing would have ever developed between you.
“Now, since that’s not a possibility, I’m here. I’m here to be the dad that Keith can’t be to Peter. I don’t care if he calls me ‘Dad’ or ‘Uncle Jack’—just being honest here—but I will be in that boy’s life, all the way through. So things between us…we do this marriage thing, and I know you only want the six months and then you want to move along, and I get that. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. Well, barely. We’re just getting to know each other. But the sex—which, damn, babe, you know how great that was, between us. But we can’t do that again. Not now. It would mess things up too much for later, when you go.”
“Right.” I really just felt like a wet noodle now. “But Jack, you agree, right? That the six-month thing, that’s for you, too. The marriage, it’s only for the trust fund. It’s super generous of you to even agree to it—I mean, what good is it to you? It doesn’t serve you at all. So the six-month out, that’s for you, too. It’s not just about me. It’s for you.”
“Right.” And once again, we held each other’s eyes, silently acknowledging the ramifications and implications and promises of these past several minutes. It felt heavy and real. My body, which was still in raging hormonal lust for this amazingly wonderful and super hot man, was screaming at me in rage over the unfairness of it all, but this was the wisest course. I knew it, and Jack knew it. We would just have to train our bodies to know it, too.
The best I could hope for now was that Jack would begin to show some really disgusting bachelor habits that would totally turn me off.
Like walking around naked… ugh, turn-on. No.
Like not showering right after a workout, and walking around sweaty and....another turn-on. No.
Like bringing women home from the MC parties or bars…Jealousy-trigger, much? Yes. Turn-off? No.
Crap.
I was so screwed.
Chapter 13
Jack
“You made me do it once. I’ll do it again and again. For you. For us. Forever.”
I had read the note over and over so many times, I had it memorized. But I didn’t have it figured
out.
I’m not sure why I hadn’t shown it to Ellie yet, or even told her about it. We’d had so much else going on, and that night when the rock got thrown, I had figured that we’d rocked each other’s worlds enough.
Speaking of…I started to get hard again, just remembering how incredible the sex was with her.
But we weren’t doing that anymore. Fuck. These six months were going to drag their asses by, second by tick-tocking second.
We now were down to just one day before the wedding. Life had whipped up around us over the past several days, and my MC brethren and their old ladies were proving their weight in gold.
Keith had also been a member of the club, and everyone understood what Peter’s appearance meant to me. The old ladies were now constantly bombarding me with hugs and gifts and soft looks, and the guys were beating me up with backslaps. Add to that, I was getting more than my share of cigars, accompanied with anecdotes of mistakes with babies. Life had definitely gone corkscrew.