Baby Makes Three

by Carrie Davis

  He hadn’t mentioned it earlier because he hadn’t wanted to upset me more, and I smiled. “You went to see him so I didn’t have to, and I love you for wanting to protect me.”

  “Well, I know what an ass he can be, and I have to admit, it wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation.”

  “He was drunk?”

  “He wasn’t quite drunk, but he was drinking, and I pretty much told him he was a miserable old bastard and you were a better man than he will ever be.”

  “I’m almost sorry I missed that.” I brushed a kiss over his lips and he smiled. “Thank you for doing that for me, but now he wants to see me, and while I can’t say I look forward to a conversation with him, I’m not going to hide away.”

  Never again.

  Ever.

  If my father had a problem with me, that was something he would have to live with. That I had decided long ago, and while I was a little apprehensive as Dexter and I went downstairs, hand in hand, I wasn’t terrified the way I had been during my teenage years when facing an encounter with my always unhappy and disapproving father. I was an adult now. A successful and happy adult with a career I loved, a husband I adored. Nothing my father did or said had the power to change that.

  I kept all of that firmly in mind as Dexter and I reached the kitchen, to find my mother standing by the sink, looking tense, and my father sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him.

  He looked relatively sober and clean. His eyes were red, and he was somewhat pale, but at least he didn’t look as if he were coming off a two-day bender.

  For a moment, the four of us—me, Dexter, my mother, and my father—lingered in a silence that wasn’t exactly comfortable. I noted that Mrs. Sutherland wasn’t in the room. She had obviously decided we needed time alone, and honestly, I envied the freedom she’d had to escape the undeniable tension.

  I need you now, Amanda, I thought. God, but you were the only one who knew how to break the tension when we were all stuck together like this.

  I could almost hear Amanda answer back, telling me to suck it up, damn it, and I squeezed Dexter’s hand to assure him that I was okay and ready to face whatever it was Raymond Sullivan had come here to say.

  The sound of my father clearing his throat shattered the silence, and I looked at him directly. “I would like a moment alone with Matthew, if that’s possible.”

  “No chance in hell.” Dexter growled.

  “It’s okay.” I glanced at my husband, and I could see the worry in his beautiful eyes.

  “Matthew...”

  “For God’s sake, I want to speak to my son!” my father snapped in clear annoyance, and the sound of him raising his voice made me jump a little, which Dexter noticed.

  “Your son? Your son? Now he’s your son?” I had expected Dexter to erupt, but instead, my usually calm mother was suddenly shouting and glaring at my father. “You son-of-a-bitch! You selfish, drunken, son-of-a-bitch! How dare you? How dare you come in here and act like you have a right to speak to my son? My son! You long ago lost the right to call Matthew your son, and… You never treated him like he was a son, and I admit, I allowed you to get away with a lot of shit, Raymond, but I won’t allow you to ever hurt my son again.”

  She was trembling in anger, and I went to her side quickly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder while casting a glance at Dexter, who looked just as shocked as I felt by my mother’s fury filled outburst. It was so unlike her.

  I had never heard her curse before, and at any other time, it might have amused me, but at the moment, we were all emotionally raw and on edge. I knew I needed to get her someplace where she could calm down, and I needed to deal with whatever my father felt he needed to say to me after years of silence.

  “Dexter, please take my mom upstairs.” I looked at him, aware he didn’t want to leave me alone with my father, but my eyes begged him, and he finally sighed.

  “Come on, Jenna, let’s go upstairs and look in on Lilabeth.” He took my mother’s hand, and she glanced at me, clearly as uncertain as Dexter was about leaving me to face dear ol’ dad on my own.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Really. Go with Dexter. I bet Lilabeth’s waking up from her nap, and she’ll want some cuddles.”

  Still hesitant, she allowed Dexter to guide her from the room, but before disappearing up the stairs with my mother, Dexter glared at Raymond, and then he looked at me and mouthed “love you,” and that was enough to reassure me.

  When they were gone, I turned to my father, who was still seated at the table.

  “He loves you.” It was a statement, rather than a question, but I was surprised to hear my father—bigot extraordinaire—make such an observation. “And it’s damn obvious you love him.” A hint of a smile danced over his face. “You look at him the way your mother used to look at me and…well, it’s been a long time since I gave her cause to look at me like I was the center of her world.”

  It was another shocking and unexpected admission, and I didn’t know how to respond to it, so I stayed silent, sitting down at the opposite end of the kitchen table. The sturdy piece of furniture seemed to nicely represent the chasm that had always existed between us.

  Always.

  If he and I had ever been close, I couldn’t remember it. We may have shared the same blood, but we were strangers in every way that mattered, and sitting there, in another stretch of silence, I couldn’t imagine that would ever or could ever change.

  “So, you know Dexter came and found me yesterday.” His attention was focused on his coffee.

  I sighed. “Yeah. He told me. You were at Griffin’s Pub.”

  “I spend a lot of time there.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “From your mother?”

  “And…and Amanda.” I cleared my throat. “She was worried about you, and she would talk to me sometimes.”

  “Amanda tried lots of times to get me to admit I have a problem, but you know me.”

  “No. No, I don’t know you.” Despite my efforts, there was a hint of bitterness in my words.

  “Matthew—”

  “I never knew you as anything more than a man who looked at me and saw the biggest mistake he had ever made.” Hating the tears that burned my eyes, I looked away from him. “I sucked at every sport, and I wasn’t… I wasn’t the son you dreamed about having. You resented me for that, and I spent years feeling like a failure. A fuck-up. I spent a lot of years telling myself I hated Dexter because he was what you wanted in a son, but then you found out he was gay, too, and I finally realized that even if I had been some All-American Athlete, you would have still been disappointed and hateful the moment you found out that I was homosexual.”

  Annoyed with myself, I brushed at my eyes and turned back to my father, to find he was looking at me. For the first time in years, he was looking directly at me, and for the very first time ever, he looked at me like he saw me.

  “You’re right.” His voice was strong and clear, and I realized in that moment that some of the lifelong walls my father had lived behind were crumbling. “After…after Dexter left me, at Griffin’s, I realized a lot of what he said was stuff people had said before, and…well, I went home and changed, and then I went down to one of those AA Meetings down at Lincoln Community Center.”

  I had a feeling making that admission—that he had attended an AA Meeting and thereby accepted that he needed actual help—hadn’t been easy for him, and that made it all the more impressive. And shocking. But it was a step, a major step, in what I hoped would prove the right direction, and I really wanted to tell him that, but I found words had suddenly decided to fail me, and all I could do was wait to hear what he intended to say next.

  “They said a lot that made sense and…and yeah, I do have a problem when it comes to drinking.”

  “Does that mean you’re serious about the AA Meetings and getting some help for your problem?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m serious. Doubt it will be easy.”

  “No,
I suspect it won’t, but you owe it to yourself and Mom to get yourself together, and you owe it to Amanda’s memory, and I’m thinking Lilabeth deserves a sober grandfather.”

  “You and Dexter, Amanda and Alex made you Lilabeth’s guardians.”

  “They did.” And here it comes, the outrage, the disgust, the grand speech about homosexuals being abominations. “Look, Dad, it was Amanda and Alex’s decision, and Dexter and I might not be your choice, but I intend to honor what my sister and her husband wanted. Period. If I have to fight you to do that, I will.”

  “Matthew, I… I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you would expect the worst possible reaction from me after the way I’ve behaved toward you over the years, but the truth is, I believe Amanda and Alex made a good decision.”

  “Dad…?”

  “When I was growing up, my parents attended a pretty strict church, and we lived in a small town and...” He shook his head. “Back then, I was exposed to this list of things considered wrong: divorce, sex before marriage, and…well, homosexuality was pretty high on the list of things considered immoral. It’s what I was taught—what my parents and their parents believed, and life was painted to be pretty simple, as far as what should be expected.

  “Guy finds a girl. Falls in love. Gets married.” His eyes were downcast again, staring at his coffee cup, and I didn’t interrupt because it seemed he needed to talk, and I was actually curious to hear what he had to say. “I did that. I found your mother. Fell for her and we got married and…shit, I had all these preconceived notions about what my kids would be like, and you...” He trailed off, but I knew what he was saying, that I had come along and shattered all those wonderfully preconceived notions, because I hadn’t been what he wanted in a son. Not even close. “I guess I didn’t know how to relate to you, because you were… You were just so damn different from me, and we had nothing in common, Matthew. Nothing. You sucked at sports. I didn’t get all that artsy crap…stuff, I mean artsy stuff you were into, like theater, and it kinda freaked me out, ya know, ’cause you were my kid, and I felt like we were as different as night and day.”

  We had been. Hell, we still were, but I didn’t point that fact out because really, it did seem as if he was actually trying to talk to me in an honest fashion—without being deliberately insulting and hostile—and I figured I owed it to him to respect what he was attempting, even if he wasn’t so good at it. Right? But gods, this wasn’t comfortable, and I feared that—despite his best efforts—our little father/son powwow would end in a screaming match.

  “Anyway, I didn’t know how to talk to you—”

  “You never tried.” So much for not interrupting, but hey, the facts were the facts, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I would let him sit there and sugarcoat said facts.

  “Okay. I never tried. I never made an effort.”

  “Dad—”

  “You weren’t the son I wanted. Okay? There. I said it. I’m the big, bad bastard everyone says I am, but if we’re being truthful, there’s the truth.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “Matthew—”

  “I was a disappointment. Right? Couldn’t play ball. I was shy, nerdy, into theater and art, and then, to add insult to the great injury, I announced I was gay.”

  “Honestly? Yes. After everything else, finding out you were gay was too much for me.”

  “And it was a walk in the park for me,” I muttered.

  “I imagine not.” He had the good grace to sound sincere.

  “Look, Dad, I’m trying hard to be…well, I guess I’m trying to be open-minded and listen to what you’re trying to say, but I’ve got to say, I don’t really understand.”

  “I know. I’m not doing this well. I’m not good at admitting I’ve made mistakes, but the fact is I’ve made nothing but mistakes with you, and I’m sorry.”

  “Dad—”

  “I never gave you a chance, never gave us a chance, to have a real relationship, and I’ve said some horrible things to you—”

  “And Dexter.”

  “And Dexter,” he agreed. “And I’ll apologize to him, but I… Damn it, Matthew, I’ve lost one child because some other drunk drove when he shouldn’t have, and I know I lost you a long time ago because I was a jackass, but I…maybe, if you want, maybe we can try and at least become friends.”

  I had never heard my father sound so lost, so unsure of himself, and it was unsettling, but I realized he was sincerely opening up to me—and possible rejection—and despite the troubled past we shared and the anger I certainly still harbored on some level, I couldn’t do what I had always imagined I would do in this situation. I couldn’t tell him to go to hell. I couldn’t tell him to fuck off, because he was my father. Yes, he hadn’t been much of a father during my childhood, but he was here now, and he had humbled himself enough to offer a genuine apology, and he had swallowed his pride, maybe for the first time in his life.

  Choking back a sudden rush of emotion, I looked at him, and he met my eyes. “Do you mean that? Do you really want to get to know the man that I am, despite the fact I wasn’t the son you always wanted me to be when I was a kid?”

  “Your mom and Amanda, they told me a lot about your life, what you’ve accomplished, and the way Dexter defends you...” To my surprise, he actually smiled. “From what I’ve heard and from what I can see in front of me, you are a damn remarkable man, Matthew, and while I know I didn’t play a decent role in helping you become that remarkable man, I do want to know you.”

  “Dad—”

  “If it’s too late—”

  “No. No, it’s not too late. Not at all.” I managed to return his smile, and he nodded, clearly uncomfortable, but we had taken some important first steps, and that was what really counted. “Why don’t we go take a look at Lilabeth? She should be awake by now, and maybe she’d like to have some time with her grandfather.”

  “You’d let me spend time with her?”

  “Of course.”

  “Matthew...”

  “Lilabeth lost her mom and dad,” I reminded him gently. “She needs all the family she can get, and what family for a little girl is complete without a doting grandfather?”

  Dexter

  The change in Raymond, the changes he declared he was determined to make, shocked me, and when we spoke privately, I assured him I wished him luck, but I made it clear that if he did anything at all to hurt Matthew again, he would answer to me. Period. Matthew had suffered more than enough because of Raymond’s arrogance and ignorance, and it wouldn’t happen again. What’s more, we now had Lilabeth to consider, and I wouldn’t expose her to bigoted poison.

  “We’re going to raise Lilabeth just as Alex and Amanda would have, and you know damn well they would want their daughter to be loving and compassionate.” Just as Amanda had been, I added, and surprisingly, Raymond agreed.

  While that was a relief, I was still determined to keep a close watch over his interactions with my family. And that included Jenna. I no longer had contact with my own mother, and after all Jenna had already endured, I felt compelled to protect her until she felt she was truly ready to deal with Raymond, who told her—while Matthew and I were in the room—that they had a lot to talk about. Surprisingly, Matthew seemed to think there might be hope for his parents’ marriage.

  “My mom has put off asking for a divorce for so long,” he explained, “and if my dad is serious about getting his life together, I honestly think she’ll take him back.”

  “Does he deserve that?” I asked, because I had my doubts, but my husband just smiled.

  “Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance, especially if they are willing to work for it?”

  “You are pretty damn amazing.” I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. “But I swear to you, if your father reverts back to his old behavior, he’s gonna get his ass kicked—”

  Matthew cut off my threat with another kiss, and we went back downstairs. Once again, peop
le dropped in, but Matthew seemed more comfortable with the influx of strangers and semi-strangers.

  Still, I stayed close. I suspect some thought it rather odd that I wouldn’t leave his side, but the way Matthew held my hand told me he was glad I was there, and for me, that was all that mattered.

  Knowing that the funeral would be the following day, we went to bed fairly early—after I convinced Matthew that, yes, he actually did need to eat something. After we ate, we checked in on Lilabeth, who was sleeping soundly.

  “I was thinking.” I whispered as we stood over the little girl’s crib while Matthew adjusted her blankets, making certain she was warm enough. “Maybe it would be good for your mother to come back to New York with us for a while. She could use a change. And yeah, your father is making an effort to get himself together, but he has to do that on his own. If Jenna stays here, she’ll end up trying to ‘fix’ him, and I think past experience has taught us all that isn’t really possible.”

  “Actually, I like that idea.” He turned and looked at me. “I hate the idea of leaving her here, still grieving, with the memories that are in this house.”

  “And I think she’s the best person to help us get things set up for little Lilabeth.”

  “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, after...” His eyes clouded over, and my heart ached for him. “Christ, I’ve been focusing on Mom, and then Dad showed up, but now there’s no way to avoid it. Tomorrow, I have to bury my sister and her husband, and I… How do I do that, Dexter, when I…?”

  The tears were there before he could stop them, and I gathered him in my arms. I had expected a breakdown. After all he had done to assist Jenna organizing the funerals and the conversation with his father, his emotional walls were crumbling.

  I ached for him, but there was so little I could do—the man I loved more than life was suffering, and I could only provide moral support, which sure as hell didn’t feel like much.

  My baby.

  I buried my face in his hair for a moment, and then I took his hand, and we left a sleeping Lilabeth for the sanctuary of Matthew’s childhood room.