The Third Date (Starting Over)

by Matthew J. Metzger

  “How’s trying to sleep?”

  “She sleeps when he sleeps,” Tom drawled, plunking a cup of coffee down in front of Aled. “I sleep at work.”

  Aled chuckled. He managed to give the baby back in exchange for his coffee and relaxed into his chair as he watched Suze coddle her newborn son. She’d waited years to have him—finding the right father, finding enough money, getting married—and though Aled couldn’t understand wanting a baby for the life of him, he had to admit that she looked…right. She looked good with him. Something had settled over her, something a little deeper than just happiness.

  “Being a mum suits you,” he murmured.

  She beamed at him.

  “So if he’s Euan, is your daughter going to be Anjali?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think we’d get away with that. Actually, we were thinking Amanda or Noah for the next one. But it won’t be for a few years. I want Euan to be old enough to understand about getting a baby brother or sister, not be jealous.”

  “Well, I think you’re mad for even having one, but you do you,” Aled remarked.

  “Oh, shove off,” Suze said. “Baby hater. Hasn’t Gabriel persuaded you into having kids yet?”

  “I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to persuade Gabriel to have a baby,” Aled said. “Anyway, I’m safe. Can’t produce the goods, remember?”

  Suze freed one hand to flip him the bird.

  “You can have enough babies for the both of us.”

  “Only two!”

  Aled raised his eyebrows at Tom, who just shrugged.

  “I just get what I’m given,” he said. “Speaking of which, give it here.”

  “Him!” Suze squawked.

  “Could be a girl.”

  “Well, until he says that, he’s a he,” she said primly, but let Tom take the blood clot away. It—he—howled again and grumbled away in his Moses basket for a few more minutes to let the peasants know of his displeasure before Tom picked said basket up and disturbed the peace once more.

  “I’ll get his lordship bathed and in the cot,” he said. “You two girls have a good catch up.”

  “Fuck off,” Aled said lightly.

  “Same to you, knobhead.”

  Aled relaxed back in his chair once the hand grenade of a baby had been removed, and eyed Suze appraisingly. She looked a little rough around the edges, but no worse than a lazy weekend at home.

  “You look good,” he repeated. “It suits you.”

  She softened. “Thank you. It’s hard, but it’s amazing, too.”

  “I’m pleased for you.”

  “Thank you.” Then she tapped his wrist. “How’s Gabriel doing? I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to come and see him in hospital. Is he—”

  “He’s doing fine, and he understands,” Aled said. “All the broken bones have healed fine, and he’s putting some of the weight back on. Migraines seemed to have tapered off, too. The main problem is the vertigo.”

  “Still bad?”

  “We had a bit of a row,” he admitted. “I wasn’t too happy about coming down on my own. I suggested delaying it until he was up to the journey and he ripped me a new one.”

  “Good!”

  “He’ll be down once he can travel long distance. Cars still make him throw up. And he can’t take stairs on his own yet. And a hot shower is a real health hazard. But—” He waved a hand. “He’s…you know. It could have been worse.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  “And how are you doing?”

  “Honestly? Chris has been a massive help,” Aled admitted. “He’d make a good nurse. Totally unflappable. Just takes everything in his stride, and he keeps Gabriel on the level too. He’s doing miles better than I would on my own.”

  “So how’s living with him?” Suze asked. “You used to get so twitchy about having his boyfriends in the house.”

  “That was walking in on sex, and not really any fear of that with Chris.”

  “Mm, good point.”

  “But no, it’s fine. I think I might have really conquered that one.”

  It had been one of his hangovers from his marriage. Although Aled wasn’t naturally jealous, he did insist on knowing what was going on. The line—for him—between an open relationship and being cheated on was the knowledge. And while Melissa had been generally on board, there’d been an incident or two of walking in the door and, with no warning, finding another man balls-deep in his wife. And all the openness in the world hadn’t stopped Aled from blowing his lid.

  So when Gabriel had moved in, there’d been an uneasy few months where they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Gabriel’s gender made anonymous hotel room sex with new playthings dangerous sometimes. But Aled’s hangup about having other men in the house had locked the door on the obvious option of bringing them into familiar territory with someone else nearby to prevent problems. It had taken time to unknot Aled’s twitchiness, and more patience than Gabriel usually showed, but—

  Well, he knew full well Chris had shagged him at least once in there.

  “There’s not really any strangers anymore anyway,” he admitted. “He’s settled down a bit lately. It’s just been me, Kevin, Chris and that Greg guy from the gym when there’s been a good gig on.”

  “The Leeds Arena toilets guy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he helping out?”

  “Nah. He’s just a fuckbuddy,” Aled said. “And he’s nice enough, but he’s got the intelligence of a teaspoon. Not sure I’d want him trying to help out.”

  Suze laughed and called him a snob before asking how long Chris was going to stay.

  “Until Gabriel doesn’t need constant supervision. Whenever that is.”

  “Why not permanently?” Suze asked.

  Aled hummed. “I—I don’t know, Suze. He’s a nice guy, but—all the time? I’m not sure I’m really up for a permanent roommate.”

  “But Gabriel might be. He’s not really enjoyed the constant back and forth between Bristol and Wakefield, has he?”

  “No, but he doesn’t do it that often. They usually go biking somewhere else and stay in a hostel or a B&B.”

  “I’m just saying you should think about it,” Suze said. “There’s more room in your new house. Or you could help him find a flat or something nearby, so he’s more local but not in your space all the time.”

  “That’s up to him,” Aled demurred. “He’s never shown any interest in moving north before. Bit of a southern nancy.”

  “Hey! You watch what you say about southerners.”

  “Cornwall’s not southern. It’s a foreign country.”

  “Rude.”

  “True,” he countered. “How else do you explain Tom? He’s almost an alien.”

  “Are you saying my son is a creature from outer space?”

  “Basically.”

  She hit him, he argued that he was right, and the serious discussion dissolved—as they always did with Suze—into a childish argument with a lifelong friend.

  But she’d planted an idea in the back of his mind, and it ticked over even as they argued, changed the subject, had more tea and ate in front of the TV. It stayed, itching at his brain.

  What if Chris stayed?

  What if he didn’t?

  Aled wasn’t entirely sure what the right answer was anymore.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chris was woken from a leisurely Sunday afternoon doze by Gabriel’s phone chiming and reached for it on instinct. Gabriel stirred sleepily, still sprawled over Chris’ body, and merely opened one eye to peer at the screen when Chris handed it over.

  “Aled’s staying another day in St Ives,” he mumbled, then dropped the phone on Chris’ shoulder.

  “S’fine.” Chris yawned. “Okay. Dinner. Let me up.”

  “Let me help?”

  “If you can sit at the table without falling off the chair.”

  Gabriel mocked his accent. It took a couple of tries to get him off the sofa, and he swa
yed dangerously for a minute or two, but the walk to the kitchen was stable and he slid down into one of the chairs like nothing was wrong.

  “Vegetarian enchiladas?”

  “Murdered cow enchiladas.”

  Chris rolled his eyes but got a packet of mince out of the fridge.

  “And don’t scrimp on the cheese,” Gabriel added, propping his head on his fist with a heavy yawn. “Maybe it’s a good thing Aled’s coming back tomorrow. I’m too tired for sex.”

  “Can I record you saying that?”

  Gabriel flipped him off.

  “I didn’t think Aled liked babies,” Chris admitted.

  “He doesn’t.”

  “But he’s voluntarily spending time with a baby.”

  “With his nephew.”

  Chris snapped his fingers, reminded by the word.

  “Is it actually his nephew?” he said. “I thought Suze was his friend, not his sister.”

  “I mean, sure, biologically speaking, she’s nothing to do with him,” Gabriel said. “But they’ve been best friends since they were little kids, and he gave her away at her wedding. Her family are shit, I think. Her dad or her brother or someone like that is in prison and her mum is one of those no-go areas of discussion. So Aled’s basically her brother in everything but blood. She used to visit his nan in the nursing home, too. I think she’s named the baby after Aled’s dad.”

  “You think?”

  “Euan. I think that was Aled’s dad’s name. He died years ago,” Gabriel added. “Long before me and Aled got together. I think it wasn’t long after Aled got married, actually.”

  “Still weirds me out to think of Aled with a wife,” Chris admitted.

  He’d seen a photo in one of the bedroom drawers—a much younger and slimmer Aled, with hair like the Great Fire of London, beaming in his penguin suit with a pretty girl on his arm, reddish-blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in artful curls. He’d seen the evidence. But it didn’t quite click. Aled had been someone’s husband. Husbands wore knitted jumpers and waited with the bags in shopping centres. Aled was about as far from Chris’ mental picture of a husband as it was possible to get.

  “They were really young. She was his first girlfriend—like, secondary school level first girlfriend. He was absolutely besotted with her.”

  At least Chris could see the besotted side of things.

  “So what happened?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “She wanted a baby.”

  “Ahh,” Chris said.

  He wasn’t exactly an authority on relationships, but even he knew the odds of sustaining a marriage when one wanted children and the other didn’t.

  “Turns out Aled can’t have kids, so she left him.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Mm.”

  “Wait, he can’t?”

  “Nope. I mean, he doesn’t want them either, but turns out he literally can’t.” Gabriel flashed him a grin. “Means I can usually persuade him to abandon the condoms.”

  Chris frowned. Why—

  “Why would that make a difference?”

  Gabriel blinked. “Um, because he can’t get me pregnant anyway?”

  “But…but you can’t get pregnant.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Er.”

  Sweat prickled under Chris’ arms. Oh shit. Oh shit.

  “Oh my God, you can get pregnant.”

  “Well…yeah,” Gabriel said slowly. “I mean, I have ovaries.”

  “Holy shit.”

  He’d never thought about it properly. He knew what Gabriel had, obviously. He’d—you know. Seen things. Touched them. Not the ovaries—that would be insane—but other…evidence. But Gabriel didn’t get periods, and surely that was enough, right?

  He said as much, and Gabriel began to laugh.

  “Well, it lowers the odds, but it’s not impossible,” he said. “What are you so worried about? You always use a condom.”

  “Not always!” Chris protested. “Not that time in Snowdonia!”

  “We’d have a one-year-old if you’d got me pregnant in Snowdonia,” Gabriel said flippantly. “Anyway, even if you did knock me up, I’m not having a baby. No way in hell.”

  Chris squirmed, fidgeting with the spatula. He wanted to ask—and especially while Gabriel was in a good mood and appeared open to questions—but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. Chris wasn’t exactly comfortable discussing…bodies.

  “Has it…you know. Ever happened?”

  “Twice,” Gabriel said.

  “Oh.” He coughed. “Um. Who?”

  “Some hookup, can’t remember his name. And don’t know about the other one.”

  Chris shivered at the mental image of Gabriel with a baby belly.

  “I do not want kids.”

  “Good, because you’re not getting any here,” Gabriel said. “I like babies fine, but I’m not hefting one around in my guts for nine months then shoving it out in front of half a hospital. I can get all my baby fix from cuddling Kevin’s kids when I go to visit. And now Euan. And you can hand them back when they shit themselves or they start crying. I just get them when they’re all cute and sleepy and smell like talcum powder.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re welcome to them,” Chris said, poking the simmering chilli meat. “Adults are hard enough to handle. Children are just—no. No way in hell.”

  “Agreed,” Gabriel said, but when Chris looked over his shoulder, he was being offered a shit-eating grin. “Did you seriously not realise I could get knocked up?”

  Chris felt his face flame red, and it was nothing to do with the proximity of the pan.

  “I—I assumed that…well, come on. You have a beard. Don’t your hormones stop that kind of thing?”

  “Most of the time, yeah. But it’s not foolproof. Plenty of trans men have been knocked up when they were on hormones. And my dose is pretty low, so I’ve definitely been spitting out eggs now and again. I had a period last Christmas out of nowhere. It happens.”

  “Oh, ew.”

  “You are so gay,” Gabriel chuckled.

  “I just don’t like the whole…pregnancy deal.”

  “Well, last I checked you had two bollocks and no vagina, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

  “Thank you,” Chris grumbled.

  “Welcome,” Gabriel said in the brightest, most obnoxious tone possible.

  “You’re a dick,” Chris muttered. The fierce heat in his face was going absolutely nowhere. “It’s been a long time since sex education lessons in school, okay? And I haven’t exactly been…revising.”

  “Revising,” Gabriel echoed. “Oh my God.”

  “Shut up!”

  Gabriel did—briefly, with some sniggering—and Chris concentrated on dinner to try and quell the embarrassment. He could barely remember sex education in school, and he was certain there’d been no lessons on whether trans people had babies. Or that trans people even existed. He had a vague memory of everyone sniggering as they tried to put condoms on bananas, and some lurid purple diagram of the female reproductive system. That was about it.

  “We’ve—you’ve never—”

  “You never got me pregnant. Snowdonia or otherwise.”

  “Would you have told me if I had?” he asked.

  “Dunno,” Gabriel admitted. “I mean, I’d have got rid of it anyway. I might have told you—always figured you’d not like babies—but…I wouldn’t have told Greg if he did it. I’d only tell Kevin on the proviso he wouldn’t tell his wife. She’s really anti-abortion.”

  Chris wrinkled his nose.

  “Yeah.”

  “Urgh. Who’s Greg?”

  “The guy I went to the Placebo gig with.”

  “Oh, the gym guy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So—” Chris turned down the burner and slid into the seat opposite Gabriel at the little table, mustering up his most serious expression and looking Gabriel dead in the eye. “Just so we’re absolutely clear. No kids.”

 
; Gabriel laughed. “No kids.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  He went back to the pan, followed by Gabriel’s amused voice.

  “You sound terrified. You realise growing a baby inside your own body is something that about half the population can do?”

  “Yeah, the half I’ve never slept with.”

  “Please, you’ve jizzed in me like…what, twice? Three times? I’ve had more cum out of some of my one-time-only hookups. I’d have to be Judith to get pregnant from you.”

  “Judith?”

  “Kevin’s wife. They have three daughters under six, and she’s about to drop a fourth.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Lily and Grace are literally ten months apart. They’re lucky they won’t be in the same school year.”

  “Does Kevin have a pregnancy fetish?” Chris blurted out, the thought escaping before he could catch it and stuff it back into the recesses of his terrified brain.

  “I think it’s Judith, actually. He keeps complaining she won’t let him wear a rubber. She wants six kids.”

  “Holy fuck. No. No-no-no-no.”

  Gabriel cackled.

  “Is she mad?”

  “Probably. She did marry Kevin.”

  “And they’re, uh. You know. Kinky?”

  “Very.”

  Chris shivered as he warmed the tortillas. “I didn’t even know you could have sex with a pregnant lady.”

  “Oh my God, where did you go to school?”

  “Fucking Somerset, all right? You—you know. You do it like sheep down there. Four minutes and it’s over and you get a baby.”

  “I don’t even know where to start with how backward that is,” Gabriel said.

  “And the army is just wall-to-wall knob jokes.”

  “The army is a wall-to-wall knob joke,” Gabriel retorted.

  Chris ignored him to add the chilli and cheese and perfect his creations. Thinking about pregnant sex while melting cheese into peppers, chilli beef and a liberal supply of salsa wasn’t a good idea. His stomach was already rebelling.

  “Honestly, no wonder it took so long before you tried to take my trousers off,” Gabriel said as dinner was served. “I’m beginning to think I’m privileged that you even want to get near me.”

  “And for that remark, you’re not getting any for a week.”