by Xavier Neal
Where’s the chick flick script writers like John Hughes, Richard Curtis, Michael Elliot, Gina Prince-Bythewood or Amy Heckerling when you need them?
Slumping down in the seat, I let my head hit the back of it as I sigh, “This has to be the worst date you’ve ever had. We’re talking of all time.”
Gideon’s growing grin catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. “Of all time? You mean even worse than the time back in college when that Allie chick blew cheeseburger chunks all over my lap because she was too hungover to be on said date but thought she could Varsity Blues her way to the NFL with me?”
The gagging is instant. “God, I forgot about her.”
“How could you? Thanks to that little stunt the apartment smelled like old tequila and dog shit for over a week.”
“She’s the reason you almost went vegan.”
“Vegetarian,” he corrects with a sharp point of the finger. “And yeah, that would’ve fucked up my career choice severely.” The memory of a fallen dream surprisingly doesn’t cause a longing gaze to blossom like it’s been known to. “She was the worst date I ever had, period, though nearly having a woman die on you is a close second. As for worst first dates?” Gideon shrugs. “This one really isn’t that terrible.”
“Not that terrible?” My body darts upward and spins to completely face him. “Our date was hijacked by my pregnant best friend who then proceeded to have a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde response to everything that was said to her. We’ve spent three hours in her hospital room where she nearly broke my hand and attempted to shatter the spirit of what has to be the world’s happiest nurse, only to be kicked out of the room by Dr. Crabby seconds prior to being informed we’re Godparents. How is any of that not that terrible?”
“You mean aside from the obvious fact I’m doing it all with you?”
Being torn between swooning and dramatically dry heaving has my face scrunching in contemplation.
“Nothing awful is happening, Lenny. We helped a friend in need. We stuck by said friend when she was probably the most scared she’s ever been in her life. We were then granted reprieve by being dismissed before bad news could dampen the day and rewarded for our commitment to them as a couple.”
I can’t stop myself from sneering. “When did we switch places? When did you suddenly start looking for the good in the ugly?”
“Probably when you turned the dick Mick drew on my cast into a cartoon man with a fucked-up nose.” Gideon’s hand falls to my thigh. “Just because I don’t always point it out, doesn’t mean I don’t see it.” His thumb gives the area a gentle caress. “You’ve taught me so much and made me a better person, baby. Never doubt that.”
Okay maybe I don’t need a professional screenplay writer to fix this hot mess.
Maybe this hot mess is perfect for us.
“Can I ask what you actually had planned?” He briefly pauses. “Or maybe I should ask, did you actually have something planned? Were you just gonna wing it?”
The shift from sentimental to the original subject at hand has my shoulders slumping again. “I made us plans.”
“Real plans or you doodled pictures of shot glasses and it inspired you to wanna go do bar trivia?”
“You love when we play bar trivia!”
Gideon lightly laughs. “Wasn’t saying I didn’t.”
I push past the urge to point out how he loves my spontaneous side to inform, “I made real plans. Like ones where I had to make a reservation type of plans.”
His eyebrows jump to the ceiling.
“I booked us tickets to this beer tasting thing. Runt’s is rolling out new seasonal flavors this fall, and this was like their premarket taste test. We’d tour the facility, try the new beers, and then at the end there is this bratwurst buffet dinner.”
“You hate bratwurst.”
“I hate the weird white shit they put on top for decoration.”
“Sauerkraut.”
“Yeah. That shit.”
Another chuckle bounces his chest. “You really had that booked for us?”
“I did!” I hastily nod. “And tickets weren’t cheap or easy either. It was like the first hundred people only. I stayed up until midnight just staring at the screen waiting for them to go live.”
“That’s commitment.”
“I wanted our first fecha to be memorable.”
“Lenny, every moment with you is memorable.”
His sappy statement sends more sadness to the pit of my stomach.
This is so not what I wanted for tonight. This is absolutely not how I wanted to make our relationship “official”. Or was it official when we first slept together? Or was it actually official when we kissed that night in his kitchen? Who gets to dub what day was the day that put us on this path? This brand new, built years ago yet just now being taken, path?
An idea pops into my mind, and I spring onto my feet. “We’re not calling this a terrible first date!”
“You’re the only one calling it that.”
“I meant…” I mockingly bob my head at him, “we are going to enjoy what’s left of our first date while we’re waiting for our Godson to be born.”
He cocks an eyebrow in question.
“Give me like five minutes.”
“A normal person’s five minutes or a Lenny’s five minutes?”
“Lenny’s.”
“So closer to twelve?”
“Exactly.”
We both snicker at the exchange before I disappear from view.
Gathering the items for the first part of my plan is easy, however, the folding process of the second half takes longer than anticipated due primarily to the fact I can’t recall the best technique to create the desired object. Once I finally have it, I increase the speed of execution and rush back to my date.
Upon my arrival, Gideon tucks his phone back out of sight, unconsciously reminding me of the terrible work day he had yet hasn’t talked about.
I clutch the items closer to my chest. “Do you need to be working?”
“Instead of…,” his index finger flails my direction, “whatever this is? Absolutely not.”
“OG-”
“No.”
“Gideon-”
“Lennox, work can wait. Now, what the hell is all that?”
After a moment more of reluctance, I set down the sodas, snacks, and folded paper footballs on the table closest to us. “This is our date. Dinner. Drinks. And football.”
A hand flies to his chest. “You know the way to this man’s heart.”
“Most of the time,” I teasingly agree. “Sometimes I like to off road it just to watch that vein in your head pop.”
“You know, I fucking know that and still feed into your bullshit when you do.”
“Yeah!” My giggles are followed by me sitting back down and pulling the table closer. “It’s hysterical. It’s like a dog having to chase a tennis ball. It’s instinctual.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you, too.”
We lean over and warmly press our mouths together. Not opposed to making out in the waiting room, but not wanting to get kicked out before Jaye gives birth, we engage in the kiss for under a minute.
Our previously lost date steers itself back on course. The two of us open our sodas, toast, and begin discussing the rules of our paper football tournament. We set the scoring system. Agree to the regulations. Decide on a time limit along with a prize for the winner.
I allow Gideon to fling his folded triangle piece of paper first, insisting, since I arranged the date, the date I invited should go first. Unfortunately, he flicks a perfect goal, and I’m left regretting my polite decision knowing I need to stay steady with his score or prepare myself to lose already. Back and forth, we take turns firing the objects to their destinations. Two people in the waiting area frown when we laugh too hard or trash talk too loud over missed plays while the others casually watch as if thankful for something more than their phones to pay attention to. We devour our chi
ps and candy bars between our turns. Crinkle the garbage beside one another’s ears to distract their shot. Attempt to bury our bellowed chuckles behind our balled fists.
I block Gideon’s line of vision with my cheesy palm to which he grumbles, “You’re gonna get that shit in my pores. Move.”
My hand falls on a snicker. “You have to know how unmanly that sounds.”
“Real men have no shame when it comes to giving a fuck about their hygiene.” He launches the projectile into the air, it lands on the very edge of the coffee table goal line. “Yes! We are now officially tied!”
“Damn it.”
His beam brightens at the same time he reaches for his half-emptied bottle of Dr. Pepper. “You know these are my favorite games to watch.”
“Equally matched opponents?”
“Exactly.”
Can’t believe I’m starting to believe we’re equally matched in other ways.
I offer him a small smile. “Which one of us is going to teach our Godson about football?”
“Shouldn’t that be a joint venture?” The proposed idea is proceeded by disbelief flooding his expression. “Still can’t believe they picked us. You I can understand. You’re one of Jaye’s best friends. You’re close. You’re always there when her and Archer need…direction. You’ve impacted their lives in multiple positive ways. It makes sense. But me? I’m just the tag along to shit.”
“You and Archer hang out.”
“Yeah, when we’re all together at cookouts or grabbing dinner. Sometimes we bond when we’re on the same team during game nights, but we never hang out alone. We’re not those friends.”
“Archer doesn’t have many of those friends. And truthfully, the fact he hangs out with you at all, even if it is just in group settings, speaks volumes. There’s a lot of trust issues there with what happened to him in the military, so him feeling comfortable around you to carry on a personal conversation is incredible.”
A hint of redness tints his cheeks.
“Besides, they picked us because we’re a packaged deal.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. We always have been. It’s just now our deal includes a little bit of kissing…” I let my finger creep down the front of his dress shirt.
He inches his mouth closer to mine. “A lot of kissing.”
My tongue snakes out to tease his top lip with a single stroke. “A little bit of foreplay…”
His groan is heavy. “A lot of foreplay.”
“And a little bit more time on our knees.”
“Not enough time on our knees.” The declaration is stated prior to him taking a small nip of my bottom lip. “Have I mentioned us being together is my favorite deal of all time?”
I prepare to use the response to the sentimental statement as my big I love you when Archer’s voice interrupts, “We have a boy.”
Our faces snap to where he’s approaching.
“We have a beautiful, healthy baby boy.”
“Congrats!” I squeak, springing onto my feet and embracing him in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you!”
He gives me a gentle pat in return.
Afterwards, I break apart for him and Gideon to exchange a much shorter similar action.
Archer’s weary face does its best to remain cheerful. “Jaye had to have an emergency C-section. She had a prolapsed cord, so they needed to move immediately to insure her safety and our son’s.”
My voice drops to one of more concern. “Is she okay?”
“Yes…Thank God.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But, she’s refusing to get some rest until the two of you meet our boy.”
“You sure you wanna do that now?” Gideon questions.
“We’re sure.” He gives my boyfriend a good pat on the arm. “Then you two can get out of here and get some rest as well.”
We quickly collect our trash, dispose of it, make a pit stop to clean our hands, and follow Archer to where they relocated Jaye.
The moment we enter her room there is an air of calmness that’s immediately infectious.
She has to force herself to look away from the bundled baby boy in her arms. “Hey…”
“Hey…” We greet back in unison.
Archer abandons us to sit on the edge of his wife’s bed. He kisses her and then kisses his new son like he’s uncertain they’re both real.
“We would like you both to meet your Godson, Alexander Charles Cox.”
I can hardly contain my joy. “Is he named after what I think he’s named after?!”
Jaye giggles during her nod.
“What’s he named after?” Gideon quickly questions.
“A children’s book,” Archer answers with pride. “One of her favorites of all time.”
“Wait,” my boyfriend curiously interjects, “are you referring to Alexander and the Terrible No Good Very Bad Day?”
The three of us nod in unison.
A warm chuckle escapes him. “I remember that book. It had a good message at the end of it.”
“Exactly,” Jaye agrees, kissing her son sweetly on his forehead. “Everyone has problems. You can’t run from them. And sometimes just a line of reassurance from a loved one, just a little compassion or reminder that you’re not alone, can make all the difference.” Her eyes soar to her husband who has tears forming in his.
Remembering the sweetness of their story and having it now bonded through a new baby threatens to make me cry.
Ugh.
Total chick moment right now.
“Wanna hold him?” Jaye softly offers.
“Oooo,” I cringe uncomfortably. “That…that…that seems like a risky idea at the moment. Shouldn’t I wait until his like baby balance kicks in or something?”
She shakes her head at me slowly.
“Is that not a thing?”
Her smile is sweet. “Not exactly.”
“It’s easy,” Archer reassures. “It’s like cradling a football.”
“Bad analogy,” Gideon jokes. “She drops footballs.”
“F you, I do not.”
“Look at that, Alexander. Aunt Len Len is already censoring herself for you,” Jaye teases.
Well, glad she’s in a better mood…I wanna point out that Alexander was crabby in the book, which is probably why he was making her cranky. He was just trying to live up to his namesake.
There’s no point in trying to deny the offering a second time. Jaye carefully extends her newborn to me insisting with a stern look that I hold him. I do everything in my power to handle him as gingerly as possible. He’s larger than I expected but lighter than he looks. His green eyes that match his father’s glow at the mere sight of me.
My heart beats faster in adoration.
Pumps harder preparing to protect him from anyone who would dare to hurt him.
Swells in gratitude for being trusted with helping love such a gift.
Gideon unexpectedly places one hand on my waist while using the other to gently touch the child’s face. “Hey, Alexander.”
The baby’s eyes shift to his and grow wide.
“I know. He’s a big dude.” My playful comment causes Gideon to chuckle. “But he’ll cover you and your dad just like he’s always covered me. He’s a fullback for life rather than just football.”
Alexander’s full lips twitch in what I like to think is a smile.
“Why don’t we get you back to Mom and Dad, angelito? We’ll come by again tomorrow to see you.” I divert my gaze up to Gideon. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” he warmly states. “If that’s okay with Mom and Dad…”
We both look back at the couple who are curled together, expressions exhausted yet overflowing with love.
“You are welcomed to come spend time with your new nephew and big sister niece anytime,” Jaye announces on a yawn.
I carefully shift Alexander back over to Archer who decides he needs to hold him for a bit. Gideon and I give our love one last time before exiting the room. Our
car ride back to his office is mainly filled with loving silence.
It’s more than obvious both of our emotions have surged over such a momentous event. Hell, over such a momentous day. In less than twelve hours we went from friends who happen to be fucking to friends who are dating to friends who are dating and also Godparents. Talk about going big or going home.