Guns Will Keep Us Together

by Leslie Langtry

Back at home, I stashed the bamboo plant and anything with a tree motif in the shed. I had to succeed tonight. My next dilemma was more difficult. It took me two hours, but I finally managed to find a restaurant with no trees outside or in. I didn't realize how hard it would be. After finding a route with the fewest trees from Kelly's house to the Flaming Lemur, I jumped in the shower and got ready.

  Kelly answered her door with a big smile and a little black dress. We drove to the restaurant with no incident and even made it to our table without a freak out.

  "I'm so glad you called, Dakota," she purred. "I was afraid you'd forgotten about me."

  "Impossible." How do you forget about a woman who can't even go outside? "I've been looking forward to this." Not a lie! Of course, I was more looking forward to nailing her than talking to her, but first things first.

  She took her napkin and placed it on her lap, "I suppose you're still wondering if I'm still dendrophobic?"

  It has a name? "Are you?" I asked.

  "No. I have a great therapist. Actually, my fear of trees was related to a fear of sex." Before I could stop it, I immediately pictured a forest full of erections.

  "Did you conquer that fear?" I asked, hoping the desperation wasn't obvious in my voice.

  "Yes, I did." She grinned wickedly, and it was way cute. "In fact, I'm not afraid of sex anymore either."

  I lifted my glass of wine. "Well, then we have something to celebrate." The glasses clinked, and I watched as she drank. Her gaze never left mine. The air was thick with sexual tension. Just the way I like it. This was going to be a breeze.

  It was obvious that small talk wasn't her thing. Kelly mainly leered at me through dinner, her foot sliding up and down my shin. Oh, she was up for it. I was gonna get laid tonight and prove it was just Nora's masculinity that distracted me.

  In fact, this chick was all over me while I drove home. Kelly kept kissing my neck, her hands on my groin the whole way. I guess I might have misjudged her. My tree was getting harder by the minute. Yay!

  The door barely closed before she'd flung me against the closet, grinding her hips into mine, crushing my lips with hers. I did the only thing I could do: I carried her into my bedroom.

  I unzipped her dress with great expectation and slid it to the floor. She was so hot and ready I thought I would burst.

  "Hold on," Kelly said, pushing me back. "I need to freshen up first." She blew me a kiss; then in her adorable bra and panties took her purse into the bathroom.

  I don't think I've ever gotten undressed faster in my life. I experimented with different lounging positions on the bed, keeping on my black silk boxer shorts. I was ready . . . beyond ready. I warned my dick not to fail me now as the bathroom door opened.

  I can't blame my dick for this one. Really. It went from hard to soft in a split second as Kelly stood in front of me. I was more terrified than anything.

  Apparently, she had lost her fear of trees by channeling another neurosis. There she was, dressed in a diaper and baby bonnet with a pacifier in her mouth.

  "What the hell?" I asked.

  "Baby wants Dak," Kelly pulled the pacifier from her lips and responded in a child-like voice, "Change Baby!" she demanded, tossing me a bottle of baby powder.

  "What?" I repeated.

  "Change Baby and powder Baby's butt!" she roared.

  I'd heard about infantilism. I'm not sheltered. I know there are people who get off on this. Hell, one of Gin's college roommates wore footie jammies and carried a blankie. But I didn't have sex with her.

  "Change Baby!" Kelly shrieked. Then she went into a full, toddler temper tantrum. I kid you not.

  I watched in horror for five minutes, then handed back her dress. There would be no erection tonight. "It's past Baby's bedtime."

  Kelly glared at me, then took the dress and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door. I waited in the hall, car keys in hand and tried to burn the image of what I'd just seen out of my mind.

  "It's completely healthy, you know!" Kelly lectured me all the way home, telling me about a group she belonged to where they get together at a pretend day care center, sleep in cribs, and get changed by large German Nannies. It didn't matter. As I dropped her off at her house, I deleted her name and number from my cell phone—a first for me. I shuddered all the way home and showered for an hour.

  Just before I fell asleep, I wondered if this was a setup by the Bombays. Maybe they were developing some new "Erection Assassination" program. For once, I felt like there was something worse than death.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "And now for something completely different…"

  ~Announcer, Monty Python's Flying Circus

  The next morning I was having this dream where all the blondes in the world were trying to change my diaper when the doorbell rang.

  I thought about letting it go. But then I remembered that I was meeting Paris and shrugged on pajamas and a bathrobe and answered the door.

  "Dakota Bombay?" asked a tall, thin man in a cheap suit. Damn. I should have checked the security monitors. I'm getting too sloppy.

  Oh well. Maybe he'd put me out of my misery. We always lived with the fear of being offed by the competition. So be it. Death would be welcome.

  I sighed. "Yes."

  The man extended his hand. "Bob Riley from Child Welfare Services."

  Oh shit! Had Kelly called this guy for abuse of a minor? It sounded twisted, but my brain was outpacing rationale.

  I shook his hand. That's when I noticed he wasn't alone. Standing next to Bob Riley was a little blonde kid with enormous blue eyes, staring at me.

  "May we come in, Mr. Bombay?" Bob asked, and I ushered them into the living room.

  "What's this about?" I demanded. I couldn't take my eyes off the kid, who suddenly grinned, revealing a crooked smile and a gap between his two front teeth.

  "I realize this may come as somewhat of a shock, Mr. Bombay, but this is your son. Louis."

  That's when I knew there was a conspiracy against me. "What…what did you say?" I gasped.

  Bob frowned as if he disapproved of my response. "This is your son. His mother—" he looked at a clipboard— "Helga Torvald, died a month ago. In her will, she stipulated that her son live with his biological father. That's you."

  My jaw hurt from being locked in an open expression. "My son? I don't have any children. There must be some mistake!" I looked at the kid and watched his smile vanish. Damn. I wish I hadn't said that. It wasn't this kid's fault.

  "I'm afraid not, Mr. Bombay." Bob handed me some paperwork that listed me as the father of Louis Torvald. There were photos of me and Helga together in a hot tub. But she looked just like all of the other women I'd dated.

  Bob Riley stood up and took back the clipboard. Here is my number. Call me if you have any questions." He turned and headed toward the door.

  I raced after him. "Wait! You can't just leave this kid here."

  Bob turned to face me, and I toyed with killing him. "His name is Louis, Mr. Bombay. And he's your son. Where else would I leave him?" He was gone before I could respond.

  I stared at the door for quite a while, trying to absorb this information. It couldn't be true! The kid was like, five or six! Why didn't this Helga tell me I'd fathered a child?

  Then it hit me. It was a joke! Gin knew Mom was giving me a hard time about having kids. She obviously set this up! I gave Louis some cookies (What kid doesn't love cookies? I love cookies.) and called Gin, Liv and Paris, telling them to come over immediately. I was dressed before the doorbell rang.

  My sister and two cousins arrived at the exact same time—proof that they were all in on this! I led them to the dining room where Louis was sitting at the table, his legs dangling a foot or so off the ground. He looked up with a smile. I knew it!

  "A-ha!" I proclaimed, pointing at the boy. Actually, I was pretty proud of the fact I'd figured it out. It was a very good joke.

  "A-ha what?" Gin asked, eyes bulging as she took in the kid. "Who's this?"


  Liv clapped her hands together. "He's adorable! Are you babysitting?" Ever the maternal type, she ran over and hugged Louis.

  Paris eyed me suspiciously. "Man, you went to a lot of trouble to get out of working today. I never thought you'd pull something like this."

  "What?" My triumphant face fell. "It's a joke, right? You set me up with that Bob Riley from Child Services and Louis." Right?

  "Dak." Gin stared at me blankly. "What are you talking about?"

  I looked around the table and knew I was screwed. It wasn't a joke. Shit.

  Gin called Mom and Dad, and there I was, explaining to the whole family about my new son, Louis. Who, by the way, hadn't said a word the whole time.

  Mom ran over and gathered the boy in her arms. Louis snuggled against her with a shy grin.

  "I can't believe this!" Gin sounded angry. "You are so irresponsible!"

  "He's absolutely wonderful!" Liv said, eyes shining.

  Mom piped up, "He looks just like you did when you were…um, how old is Louis?"

  Paris glared at me, presumably pissed because we weren't going to work on his beloved project for the Council today. Dad gave me the thumbs up. Of course then I remembered that his thumbs were the only thing on him going up lately. I shuddered.

  "Louis," I said, crouching in front of him. "Grandma asked how old you are."

  The boy looked at me for a moment, then turned to Mom and threw his arms around her neck. He still hadn't said a word, but Mom was in heaven.

  "So," Gin asked, "what are you going to do?"

  I ran my hands through my hair. What was I going to do? "I have no idea."

  "I'd say he's about Romi and Alta's age," she said quietly. "You'll have to enroll him in their school so they can show him around."

  "And don't forget to add him to your insurance," Liv added.

  "You'll need a sitter for this afternoon," Paris growled, still obviously fixated on work.

  Dad just sat there and grinned. Thanks, Dad.

  "You'll need to turn the guest room into his room," Mom said in a love-struck voice. "And we'll have to go shopping for clothes and toys!" Clearly, I was now off the hook with her in the grandkid department. Somehow, that didn't make me feel better.

  "Hold on!" I brought my hands up in front of me to hold the maternal brigade off. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

  "Do?" Mom glared at me, "What do you mean? He's your son, Dak! You have to take care of him. Raise him!"

  "And being yours by blood," Paris interrupted, "you'll have to start training him."

  Gin would have said something if she wasn't on the phone telling Diego to bring Romi over immediately to meet her new cousin.

  The whole room erupted in discussion. I stumbled backwards, falling into a chair and slumped in defeat. We hadn't even determined paternity, and everyone assumed Louis was part of the family.

  I had to give it to the kid. He really glowed with all the praise and adoration. But he still hadn't said anything. What was up with that? Plus, I realized that having a new son would put a serious crimp in my mission to prove my manhood.

  My head hurt. Between the run of bad-women luck, the crazy assignment from the Council and the appearance of my "son," I was pretty sure one of the arteries throbbing on my forehead would burst. Maybe I should get Gin and Diego to agree to be his guardians once I died from this.

  "Well, I think that went rather well." A small voice seemed to emanate from my alleged son. I peeked cautiously through the fingers that covered my eyes.

  "Excuse me?" I asked, mouth agape (which, by the way, is not a good look for me).

  Louis came over and sat at the table next to me, his chin resting in his hand. "I'm not saying it was perfect, but it was good. My new family is very nice."

  I stared at him. The damn kid hadn't uttered a word the whole time! Now he sounded like…like an old Jewish comedian working in the Catskills.

  "S'up Sheckie? Why are you talking now?" I asked.

  The so-called fruit of my loins responded, "Sheckie? Come on, Dad. I can barely stand Louis. Mom thought it sounded intelligent."

  "How old are you?" I asked. Maybe he was a midget teenager. Then I wouldn't need a sitter.

  Louis rolled his eyes. "Not very good at this, are you? I'm six."

  "You're shitting me!" I said before I could stop myself.

  Louis frowned. "You're not supposed to use that kind of language around me." He looked around the room, "Actually, this place seems more like a bachelor pad than a home for a kid."

  He was right. I didn't know what to do. This kid was freaking me out.

  "So, what are the schools like here?" Louis continued. "Mom moved around a lot, so I've been exposed to several different curricula."

  I searched my mind for info on his mother. I don't think I ever dated anyone as smart as this kid. Where did the brains come from?

  "Romi seems nice. Although a little young. I'm used to older companions."

  Companions? What kind of six-year-old referred to other kids as companions? I rolled my eyes. "Used to spending time with physicists and philosophers, are you?"

  Then Louis did something that made my heart sink. He narrowed his eyes and frowned. I'd seen that expression all my life on my grandmother's, mother's and sister's faces. My God. He really was my son. The realization was too much. All the blood that should have been flowing to my cock (Hear that, you stupid prick?) drained to my feet. Which was how I ended up in a clump on the floor.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Blinded by the light. Remmed up like a docent in the humble of the might."

  ~Paul, The Vacant Lot

  Mom and Gin showed up later that night with shopping bags full of clothes, toys and more presents than I ever got. Of course, they were for Louis. While Mom bathed him and tucked him into my old guest room, Gin lectured me on what I needed to do to register him for school the next day.

  "You should get to Kennedy Elementary early so they can show you around, and he can even sit in on a class." Gin was focused. This was her thing. Gin was even in the PTA.

  "I don't know. I was thinking of taking him to the hospital."

  My sister looked alarmed, "Why? Is he sick?"

  "No. I just thought I'd get a head start on the paternity test."

  Gin frowned and narrowed her eyes. Just like Louis had. They could be mother and son. I gulped.

  "Dak! That boy is your son. His mother just died. If you run him in for the tests tomorrow, he'll think you don't want him."

  "I don't want him!" I cried.

  Gin responded with a right cross to my jaw. She was good. That was going to leave a mark.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Uh-oh. "You, little brother, are going to grow up, once and for all. You were stupid enough to ignore birth control, and now you're gonna be a man, or I will kill you." I was pretty sure she meant it.

  "What's all the yelling out here?" Mom came out of my guest…um, Louis's room, that same Louisy scowl on her face. "I just got him to sleep. What is wrong with you two?"

  Gin threw her arms up into the air and dropped into a chair. I thought that looked like a good idea, so I sat on the couch.

  "I think you'd better stay the night, Mom." I was pretty sure she'd turn me down. But I was way over my head here.

  "Of course," she responded. Apparently I'd underestimated her maternal instincts. I gave her a dazzling smile.

  "Don't pull that shit with me, Dakota." She sighed. "I'm doing this because I'm afraid if I don't, you'll sneak off to the bars tonight, leaving my grandson alone."

  She can read minds? You know, that explains so much.

  "Well, thanks for that vote of confidence," I responded.

  "So. You're a father now," Gin said. "What are you going to do to take care of my nephew?"

  I looked at the two most important women in my life. Mom, who coddled and spoiled me. Gin, who taught me how to sight a sniper rifle and used to beat up my bullies. And who very recently saved my life. Damn. I
was totally screwed.

  "I'll take him to school tomorrow. Then, this weekend, I'll find something for us to do together. Get to know him, that kind of thing." I sounded mature, but really I was just saying what I thought they wanted to hear.

  "I think this will be really good for you, Dak," Gin said as she picked up her jacket from the back of the couch. "Maybe you'll grow up." She kissed Mom on the cheek and made it out the door before I could say something really cutting and witty. I don't know what that would have been, but if I had something, I would've said it.

  Mom brought her duffle bag in from the car and in minutes had changed into jammies. She took my room (it was closer to Louis), and I had the couch.

  I'd bought the sofa for its make-outability. I've never had to sleep on it. Oh well. I had a son now. It was time to make sacrifices. As I lay there, uncomfortable as hell, I thought that at least I'd given Mom what she wants. Maybe she'd back off on the whole notion of me getting married. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. I got the kid without the work.

  "When are you going to give Louis a mother?"

  I woke up to find Carolina Bombay standing over me. I looked at the clock. 3:45 a.m.

  "Jeez, Mom! Go to bed!" I was pissed. I'd been in the middle of this dream where I was being bathed by naked Nordic women. And they were giggling. A lot.

  Mom sighed her eternal sigh of martyrdom (After forty years, she really had it down.) and padded off to my room. Fortunately, I was able to pick up the dream again. Unfortunately, we'd apparently gotten past the sex and were all fully clothed. Thanks, Mom.

  I got up a few hours later and sat in the kitchen with a cup of black coffee. It was way too early for Louis or Mom to be up, but I couldn't sleep.

  My masculinity was in serious trouble, and I knew it. In the last few days I'd had erectile dysfunction twice, fainted, and got socked on the jaw by my sister and bullied by Mom. My life was completely messed up, and I didn't have anyone I could kill…I mean blame. Now all I had was no sex life, actual marketing work for the family, and a son. What the hell?