by David Connor
Mr. Bauer chuckled. “I can’t ask you to go that far.”
“I would if she were my daughter. I’ll do it for yours too,” I promised.
Aidan was sitting across from her when I got back downstairs. The laughter echoing off the walls ceased the moment I stepped off the last one. I headed for the kitchen, where I waited for Joe Comedian several minutes as he and Lauren found a few more things to guffaw about.
“Did you rat her out?” he asked when he finally joined me.
“Yup. I’m a killjoy,” I told him. “Except her dad knew nothing about any of it, so I’m glad I did,” I added quite shortly.
“They’re kids,” Aidan said. “They’d have driven around a few hours and been home by morning, when they discovered life on the run is only glamorous in movies.”
“And what if something bad were to happen in those few hours? What then, huh?”
“Nothing was going to happen.”
He rolled his eyes at me. It really ticked me off.
“A little sexual experimentation, maybe, but it’s not like another girl can get her pregnant. They have the same issue we do. You realize that, Mr. Biology Teacher, don’t you.”
“An unplanned pregnancy isn’t the only bad thing that can happen to two girls all alone at night.”
“God! If you’re going to be so strict with our kids, maybe we better not have any.”
“Fine. I’ll be a childless, nervous wreck you can barely tolerate.”
“Your star went off again!” Laure hollered.
“I never said anything like that, Kip. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, apparently I’m annoying.”
“I didn’t say that, either.” His tone softened. “Come on.” He touched my cheek. “Kids and money…”
“What about them?” I pouted like the first one without the second.
“The two things couples fight about most.”
“Oh.”
“We’re fighting about someone else’s kids. Maybe we better sit down and have a nice long talk about whether or not we want to adopt one.”
Aidan was out like a light in the big chair by the fireplace within the hour. He was so cute when he slept. I threw a fleecy blanket over him so his inevitable woody would be less noticeable to our houseguest, whose arms were folded across her chest as she sat across from me glaring while she waited for her father to arrive. I’d apologized for calling him, but then I’d taken it back. I had nothing to apologize for. Lauren was a minor. If she was eighteen, it would be a whole different story. As I plodded into the kitchen for another cup of coffee—number five—to keep me awake, I picked up some cookies for Lauren and a pad and paper to work on Aidan’s stocking list. Christmas was coming, after all. We were down to the “last minute shopper” days, and even though the message I was planning on only needed seven items to create, I figured I better get on the ball. I’d been thinking about it a while, more the message than the gifts. There was an entire alphabet worth of spices in our spice rack, and Aidan’s line of study lent itself well to the little stocking-size jars. I wasn’t really too worried about the actual shopping part—marjoram, allspice, rosemary, red pepper, yellow mustard seed, mace, and… Well, the E was a stumper at that moment, but I’d come up with something, I knew. I figured I might add a Will you to the beginning to fill the stocking more. That might be a better plan.
“Freeze!”
To my surprise, Lauren listened. She’d been just about to sneak out the door. I could hear a car running, and I would have bet anything it wasn’t her father’s. I maneuvered my way in between her and the open door and signaled for whoever was waiting to come inside. I was astounded once more, not only that the getaway driver got out of the car and came in, but by who it was.
“Toby?”
“Hey, Mr. Kipling.” He hung his head.
2
Toby’s shoulders were up by his ears the whole time. He was so thin a strong gust would blow him away. I’d never seen him out of his zip-front nylon jacket on. He’d worn it throughout the warmer days of September and still had it on as his outer layer on the coldest night since back in February. The shirt he wore beneath it changed, but all one ever saw of it was a triangle at the top. They didn’t look like high school sweethearts. His hair was stringy and dark. Lauren’s was tipped in purple and shaved off on one side. She had six earrings in her left ear and three in the right. Toby’s only accessory was a pair of glasses that he kept pushing up his nose. It wasn’t just their different styles that gave me pause—they were reminiscent of Aidan and myself, and that worked—there was also the whole lesbian thing.
“So…?” I asked.
Toby looked to her, but then spoke up himself. “We were going to take off.”
“Really? For where?”
“My family has this cabin in the woods.”
“Toby!” Lauren smacked him in the arm.
“He’s cool,” Toby insisted.
“No I’m not,” I thought.
“No he’s not,” Lauren confirmed.
“It’s snowing. The roads are going to be a mess,” I told them.
“Already are.”
“So maybe you’ll come in and sit a while. Do your parents know where you are, Toby?”
“They’re asleep.”
“So, that’s a no?”
“They won’t notice until morning.”
“Toby…”
“If I wake them up, they’ll be mad.” His face practically disappeared down inside his coat.
“How mad will they be when they wake up and you’re not there?”
“Pretty mad.”
“Or petrified,” I countered.
“Probably.”
“Lauren’s pregnant!” he blurted out.
“Toby!”
“Who’s pregnant?” Aidan smacked his lips, his rude awakening not sitting well at first.
“So… pregnant and a lesbian?” I asked. “Or was that just a cover?”
“Who’s pregnant?” Aidan stood. Speaking of covers, he should have kept his on.
“Whoa!” Toby couldn’t help but comment on the underwear sleep boner Aidan unveiled through the fly of his pj pants when he stretched.
“Babe.” I nodded toward it, but Aidan didn’t seem to care.
“I’m not a lesbian.” Lauren turned away from us. “I just said that because it was easier. I wish I was.”
Toby shrunk even further into himself.
“You don’t,” I said.
“We did it,” Toby announced.
“I think he figured that out,” Lauren told him.
“Which version of things did you tell your mother?” I asked her.
“The truth.”
“And your father?”
“Neither. Not yet.”
“I’ll make some cocoa,” Aidan offered, and before I knew it, he had disappeared into the kitchen.
“Sit,” I said to the kids. I hadn’t meant for it to come out as a command, but Toby was down faster than an Irish Setter. Lauren, defiant as ever, continued to stand. “I… um…” I had no idea what to say. “It’ll all work out.” I chose something lame. “I think your father will understand,” I said to Lauren. “He seems like a pretty reasonable guy.”
“He is,” she admitted. “I should have gone to live with him when I had the chance, then none of this would have happened.” She glared at poor Toby.
“Sorry,” he said.
I felt bad for him.
“But I didn’t want to leave my brother behind.”
Aidan came back with the cocoa. Not long after that, Mr. Bauer showed up. Aidan and I hid in the kitchen a little while, so I’m not totally sure how the conversation went. There wasn’t a lot of yelling, which was good for the kids, but not so good for eavesdropping.
“We should offer to take the baby.”
Aidan looked at me as if I’d just suggested we invite Kim Davis over for dinner. “Huh?”
“I just think… I’d like
to be a father.”
“It’s almost one a.m. This really isn’t the time to discuss having a kid.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m so sleepy, I might just say yes.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“Dude… There were times not so long ago when one a.m. was like four in the afternoon to me. In fact, four in the afternoon was like seven in the morning, I was just getting up. I’m so exhausted now by dinnertime I can hardly make it through Jeopardy without nodding off. And the fact that I’m sitting down to watch that, well, that says a lot about how things have changed right there.”
“You don’t like how we’ve settled in? The little routine we have?”
Aidan didn’t answer right away, and that made me nervous, and also a little bit sad. “I love you,” he finally said. “In recovery, we learn not to make any big life changes in the first year of our sobriety. I don’t have a year yet. I’d be close… if I hadn’t slipped up.”
“You got right back on track.”
He had. It had been just a couple of beers—one time—one night when he’d had a disastrous night at school. Frustration and self-doubt had won, but I’d talked him down with the help of his sponsor and his dad. “I’m not perfect.”
“You don’t have to be to be a father.”
“Maybe… But I’m hoping… once we get done with the classes… there’ll be time for something other than work and home. We need a little adventure here and there to rekindle to romance.”
I hadn’t been aware the romance had fizzled.
“Bringing a kid into the mix right now… that’s the kiss of death to any fun… ever again.”
The proclamation was ill timed. Lauren was standing in the doorway, and had heard the whole thing.
“How are things going?” I asked her.
“We’re going to leave,” she said.
“Tell your father… I can tell him.” I stood to do just that. “Mr. Bauer…” I headed into the living room where he was staring down poor Toby as if he was trying to decide how best to murder him. “The roads are bad… You’re welcome to stay the night. We have an extra room with two single beds, plus the couch.”
Toby had called his parents. Once the yelling had stopped, he’d told them he was going to stay here. His mother had sounded quite relieved when we’d talked.
“We’ll be fine,” Mr. Bauer said. “My truck handles the snow like a dream.” His smile seemed forced. He looked quite tired. “And it’s only going to get worse. If we stay, you might be stuck with us through the whole holiday.”
“We’d manage,” I said.
“We’ll call to let you know we’ve arrived home safely,” he promised. “That’s what compassionate people do.” He’d aimed that at his daughter. “Because other compassionate people worry when someone they care about is out in weather like this.”
“Can we get Kyle?” she asked.
“Of course. Tonight… tomorrow night… you were coming for Christmas anyway.”
“We would have,” Lauren said. “Toby and I were just going to—”
“It doesn’t matter what you were going to. Now you’re not. You’ve been very kind,” Mr. Bauer said to me.
“Glad we could help… if we did. If you need anything else…” I almost blurted out that we’d take the baby, but that would have been dumb for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I didn’t even know if Lauren was planning on giving it up. Reason number two came out from the kitchen with a bag.
“Something for the road,” he said. “Cookies and a thermos of cocoa.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Bauer—Steven—followed Lauren to the door. She seemed more than ready to bolt. As the back lights on their truck disappeared into the snowy darkness, Toby moved away from the window and slouched down onto the couch.
“Go up to bed.” I kissed Aidan on the cheek. “I’ll be up soon.”
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” I told him. I turned toward Toby then. He still looked like a deer caught in headlights. “How you doin’?”
“Blech.”
“It’s a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“You want to talk or you want to sleep?” I was hoping he’d choose sleep.
“I don’t know.”
The worst possible choice.
“You know there are parents who wouldn’t let their kids sleep over here, right?”
Though the question had taken me aback, within an instant, I knew he was right. “Yeah,” I said solemnly.
“Because you’re gay and they think that means their kids aren’t safe with you.”
“Yeah.”
“Idiots.”
It was the boldest statement I’d ever heard Toby make.
“I’m glad my parents didn’t say anything like that. I wasn’t sure, ya know?”
“You weren’t?”
“No. We never talked about that kind of thing before… about gay people and shit… I mean stuff.” His eyes darted around as if he’d broken some law.
“You can say ‘shit,’” I told him. “We’re not in school.” Kids said it all the time there too. The world was changing.
“If Lauren is pregnant… I’m not the father.”
“Oh?” That was a shocker. “If?”
“She took a pregnancy test from the store, but it must have got messed up, because instead of a pink or blue box it turned sort of yellow.”
“Hmm.”
“She’s only two weeks late.”
“I see.”
“Herschel Trinka and her had sex. We never did.”
A lot of information was coming my way and I had no idea what to do with any of it.
“They broke up, so she didn’t want to tell him.” Toby’s cellphone buzzed. He looked at it and then made a face. “She says I better not be telling you all of this.”
“Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.”
“I like her, but not that way. Well, maybe that way, but not enough to claim her kid as my own.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “That’s pretty big.”
“But I said I would.”
“I’m not sure it was fair of Lauren to ask you to.”
“That’s what I thought. Her brother’s gay.”
It was time for a subject change, apparently. “Is he?”
“He says he is. He would know, right?”
“Probably, yes.”
“Kyle’s only fourteen, but he’s so cool with it. Everyone at school knows.”
I didn’t know. Then again, Kyle was too young for my Intro to Bio class. I hadn’t even met him yet, though I think I knew he existed from an assignment Lauren had done on family connection.
“Their parents don’t, though.”
“I just told my parents last year—and I’m twice Tristan’s age, so…”
“I hope he doesn’t wait that long,” Toby said.
“Me too. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What have you told your parents?”
“About Lauren?”
“Yes, Toby. About Lauren.”
“Nothing. Just that I went out tonight to meet a girl.”
“Ah.”
Toby yawned.
“Sleep.” I stood. “There’s not much we can do about any of it tonight. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning,” I told him. “You want the couch or the bed?”
“I don’t care.”
“Bed’s better, then.” I pointed at the stairs. “Right at the top. It has its own half-bath. Make yourself at home. You want something to change into?”
“No. I brought stuff. It’s in the car, but I’ll sleep in what I got on. Besides, wearing your clothes would be weird.”
I chuckled. “Just figured I’d ask. Good night.”
I left him down in the living room and headed up to Aidan. “You awake?” The mattress creaked when I crawled beside him.
“Mmm.”
“The
re have been some developments.”
Aidan rolled over.
“You’re wearing pajamas.”
“There are strange people in my house. I can’t sleep naked.” He angrily kicked at the covers. “I can’t sleep in these stupid things either.” He tore off the plaid fleece pants and balled them up violently. “It’s too fucking hot.”
“I could open a window.”
“I’m not heating the front yard.”
I had to laugh. It was such a grown up thing to say.
“Shut up.” He said it with humor.
“Lauren and her father took off for Hartford. Toby’s across the hall.”
“I guess we can’t fuck… even though he got his.”
“Well, here’s the thing. No he didn’t. The baby—if there is one—isn’t his.”
“What is this, The Young and the Restless?”
“Not far off,” I told him. I wasn’t sure if he was listening as I filled him in on the whole saga, since his eyes were closed, but when I finished, he shook his head.
“I’m glad none of them are our kids.”
“What would you say if they were?”
“If this Herschel kid were mine, I’d kick his ass and tell him to man up. ‘You made the kid, step up and take care of it.’”
“Well, he doesn’t even know.”
“That’s not right either.”
“No.”
“If she was our kid I’d tell her to tell him.”
“We might not even know.” I kissed him behind the ear. “I’m not sure Lauren was going to tell her father if I hadn’t called him.”
“Her mother would have.”
“I suppose.” I sighed loudly. “I guess it’s good teenagers start as babies, so you can build yourself up to the hardest years.”
“You know the gay kid?”
“Not really.”
“Your school cool?”
“What do you mean?”
“Anyone pick on anyone else?”
I had to think about that. “Probably. I don’t hear much about it, really, so maybe it’s not too bad.”
Aidan rolled into me. “It’s a whole new world.”
“That’s what I thought earlier… about something else. I’m not sure it totally is. I doubt he goes through his entire day without someone saying something, but I think it’s better than when we were their age.”