by S. E. Law
What if I hadn’t been in the process of transferring schools? What if I hadn’t audited the class? What if the Dean told us we couldn’t see each other ever again, or fired Mike and Scott? What if… What if…
“Earth to Violet,” Mike says, waving his fork in front of my face. When I meet his deep blue gaze, he smiles, but then frowns as he watches my lips quiver.
“Violet…” he murmurs, and for some reason, that’s enough.
I collapse. I bury my head in my hands and hunch over as the tears begin to flow. I shake and shiver, sobbing until my throat begins to feel hoarse. Soon, I’m barely able to breathe, gasping for what little air I can gather between sobs.
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Scott says, rubbing my back. Mike is on my other side caressing my hair. They both sit silently, letting me weep, letting me purge the poison from my mind and heart.
After what feels like forever, I lift my head. Scott holds out a napkin and I dab at my eyes and blow my nose. Mike gently presses his lips to the top of my head.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
I start to nod, but then shake my head instead. “I don’t think so. I’m just so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I can’t believe I put us in jeopardy like that by telling Kristy about us. I even told her we were coming to this restaurant tonight. That’s how she knew we were here. It’s all my fault.”
“She was your best friend,” Scott says in a comforting voice. “Of course you were going to tell her. Mike and I are best friends and we tell each other everything. It’s what buddies are for.”
“But now she’s not my friend,” I croak through a fresh wash of tears. “I never want to see her again. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have trusted her the way I did.”
“There’s no way you could have known she would do something like this,” Mike reassures me. “Hell, just from seeing her in class, she seemed perfectly nice. I never would have expected her to do anything like this, either.”
“But…”
“No more ‘buts,’” Mike and Scott say in unison. The astonished sidelong glances they cast at each other makes me laugh through my tears.
“I know that situation was scary,” Mike says, taking my hand. “I was scared shitless too because I don’t ever want to lose you. Neither of us do. But everything is going to be fine now, okay? The storm has passed.”
I bite my lip. “You promise?”
Mike looks at me seriously. “I promise.”
Scott is looking intently at me, too, in a way that makes my heart flutter. “Violet, maybe this isn’t the time, and maybe we’re jumping the gun by being so abrupt, but seeing everything that’s happened, I figure that sooner is better than later. We have something we want to tell you,” he says, taking my other hand. “It’s something Mike and I have talked about, and as in most things, we agree. It won’t erase the pain of what just happened, but I hope it helps a little bit.” He smiles, a bit teary himself. “We’re in love with you, sweetheart. We love you more than anything, and we just didn’t want to scare you by telling you too soon.”
Suddenly, I could care less about Kristy. Everything that transpired a few minutes ago feels like a bad dream now. I feel suddenly lighter, brighter, like I’m filled with a golden glow from the top of my head all the way to the tips of my toes.
“Really?” I ask through sniffles.
“Really,” Mike growls, stroking my hair again. “We have for a while now, but you’re young. That part is true. You’re just a sophomore while this asshole and I are professors. We didn’t want to put pressure on you, but seeing the events that transpired today, I think it’s time. We adore you, sweetheart, and want to keep you with us.”
Radiant light flows through my veins again and I smile tearily. Mike and Scott love me. What are the chances?
I was worried, somewhere deep down, that maybe my love was unrequited. I knew they enjoyed spending time with me, but anything else, I wasn’t sure of. I was concerned that I was just a good time to them, or maybe a girl they liked a lot, but love? This is beyond my wildest dreams.
After all, I know my parents love me, but that’s different. I’ve had a boy or two tell me he loved me before, but it felt like it was just puppy love and not the real thing.
But this confirmation of their adoration, their capital-L declaration, makes tears spring to my eyes yet again.
“Baby, you’re not supposed to cry!” Scott says tenderly, running a big hand down my back to rest on my thigh. “This should be a time for laughter and happiness!”
“Or sweetheart, is our love so offensive that it makes you cry?” Mike asks, trying to be funny.
“No!” I squeal, waving my hands as they chuckle good-naturedly. “No, they’re happy tears, I promise. I’m so happy. You both make me so happy.”
“You make us happy, too,” Scott growls with a smile. “Personally, I think I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Me, too,” Mike agrees. “Happy happy.”
I can’t help but beam.
“Oh my god, you guys are such goofballs sometimes. You almost just lost your jobs, and who knows, maybe I would have been expelled. But now, you’re cracking jokes!”
The two men laugh good-naturedly, but then they grow serious again.
“We do love you, baby girl,” Scott says, stroking my thigh. Mike nods and places his hand on my other thigh, and the heat from their palms makes my skin tingle pleasurably.
“I love you, too,” I whisper. “Both of you. So much.” But then, it suddenly dawns on me that because of all this drama, I haven’t shared some very important news.
My mouth goes dry and I take a quick sip of water. “Um, I actually have something to tell you, too,” I begin quietly.
“You’re not in love with a third professor, are you?!” Scott asks. Mike elbows him in the ribs and rolls his eyes.
“Quit with the jokes,” he says. “Can’t you tell our girl is trying to be serious?”
“No, it’s not a professor,” I laugh. “It is kind of a big deal, though. I haven’t even thought much about it because I’m a little scared, to be honest.”
Immediately, my men are concerned. Their brows furrow as they lean forward in their seats. “What’s going on?” Mike asks.
“We’re here for you no matter what,” Scott assures me.
“Okay,” I say, hesitantly. My palms have begun to sweat, and I wipe them on the skirt of my dress. “Um, so, I don’t know the best way to say this, and like I said, I’ve been trying to digest it myself, just in case you’re not happy about it… but… um…”
“It’s okay, Violet,” Mike says in a soothing tone. “You can tell us anything.”
He’s right. I know I can.
“Okay,” I whisper again. I look between them, gazing into each pair of gorgeous cerulean eyes for a moment, gathering my courage. Then, I spill my secret.
“I’m pregnant. You’re going to be daddies.”
Scott’s jaw drops; Mike, meanwhile, leaps to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. “Holy shit,” he breathes, his eyes wide and chest heaving. “Fuck!” Then, they exchange another glance before they’re talking all over each other.
“You’re pregnant?!”
“Are you sure?!”
“So one of us is the father?”
“Do you know which one? Did you take a test?”
“Are you okay?”
I worry, with how quickly they’re talking and how wildly they’re gesticulating, that they’re upset. But then, I realize that both of them are smiling like fools. Mike looks like he might pass out, and Scott may have tears in his eyes. But they’re both grinning like they’ve won the lottery.
Mike is the first to pull me close against his broad form. “Violet,” he whispers. “I’m so excited, and I love you so much. I can’t wait to become a daddy.”
“I love you, too,” Scott whispers from behind me, nuzzling the nape of my neck. “This is amazing. This is the most incredible news
I’ve ever heard.”
I can’t help but cry with happiness, and soon we’re all laughing, and hugging, and swaying, and crying, a mass of limbs and love. One worry, though, keeps wriggling in my heart, and I realize I have to give voice to it.
“By the way, I don’t know which one of you is the father,” I admit after a minute, looking down. “I just took a test at home. I could probably go to the hospital or something to find out for sure if you want, though.”
“I don’t care at all,” Mike says firmly. “Scott, do you?”
“Nope.”
I turn startled eyes to them.
“Really?” I question, my eyes wide. “You don’t want to know who the biological father is?”
My handsome lovers share a look.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mike confirms. “Really, it doesn’t. All that matters is that we’re both going to be there for you and take care of this baby. We’ve both come in you a million times, so it could be either of us.”
“Our family might look a little non-traditional,” Scott adds, “but we’ll be the best damn family around.”
“You mean it?” Tears spring anew into my eyes. “You both want to be with me and help me take care of the baby?”
Their expressions grow serious.
“Absolutely honey,” growls Mike, his blue eyes fierce. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“We’ll never let you go,” adds Scott, one big palm rubbing possessively over my belly. “Not you nor the child. Ever.”
With that, I open my arms and wrap my huge, handsome men into a warm embrace, nestled in between their broad chests. “I love you,” I whisper.
“We love you, too,” they whisper back.
And with that, our relationship is blessed. As we exit the restaurant, I hold both Scott and Mike’s hands, eliciting a few looks from the other diners. But I don’t care anymore. I want to demonstrate my love to the world, no matter how unorthodox it seems. I can’t wait for my baby to grow up with two amazing daddies, with two sets of strong arms to be held in, two broad backs to ride, and two hearts to love our child powerfully and unconditionally. The future looks brighter and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
How could it not? After all, I’m doubly blessed, doubly lucky, and doubly loved with Scott and Mike at my side.
Epilogue
Scott
Two years later.
“Do you think she wants peas and carrots or blueberry and banana?” I ask.
Mike surveys the tiny glass containers I hold in each hand. “Why not both?” he suggests. “We need to expand her flavor palette.”
“Gerry’s only one,” I say skeptically. “As long as she’s eating, I don’t care if she’s got a refined palette or not.”
“Well, when Geranium grows up and is one of those kids who only eats chicken nuggets and French fries, I’m blaming you,” my buddy retorts.
I laugh. “Fine. Fair enough.”
There are a lot of things I envisioned about a future with Mike as my best friend. Grocery shopping for our one-year-old baby, birthed by the woman of our dreams, was definitely not one of them. However, we’ve adjusted well to this untraditional little life of ours. Violet is our ultimate love and she adores both her daddies--more than either of us deserve, I think. And little Geranium is the most perfect being I’ve ever encountered. I wouldn’t trade our baby for anything.
Even if Mike and I still can’t agree on the groceries.
“Did Vi say she wanted soy milk or almond milk?” Mike asks in a distracted voice.
“Almond,” I say.
“No, I’m pretty sure it was soy.”
“Then why are you even asking?”
“I thought you made a list.”
“Have I ever made a list?”
Mike sighs and puts back the carton of soy milk. “I’m trusting you on this one,” he says, gesturing at me seriously with a carton of almond milk. “If I fuck this one up, I might be sleeping on the couch.”
“Good,” I say. “More room for Vi and I without you hogging a whole side.” (Investing in a California king was definitely a necessity when we all moved in together.)
On the way home, I brake so hard that Mike nearly goes flying into the dashboard. “What the hell?!” he shouts.
“I forgot the diapers!” I lament, as the car behind me honks furiously. “Oh, shit, we have to go back and get diapers. Vi’s gonna kill me.”
“We have tons of diapers in that one cabinet,” Mike says, gesturing at me to keep driving.
“Which cabinet?!”
We argue, albeit good-naturedly, all the way home. Mike and I have always looked like brothers, and acted like them too, but now, we’re practically twins. Thank God Violet decided that she loves both of us because life would be fucking awful otherwise. Sometimes, the only thing that can calm us down is being in her body. Our gorgeous girl’s willing curves and soft, breathy moans are the only things that can make our blood pressure decrease.
We pull into our spot in the parking garage and carry our groceries up. I liked my apartment, but the one that the three of us found together is amazing. It’s huge, drenched with sunlight, and close to NYU, where Mike and I still teach. Violet did end up getting accepted to Columbia, but took some time off school when she was pregnant with Geranium. She keeps saying she’ll go back any day now, but I know how much she loves being a mom and spending time with our sweet little girl. It’s fine. It’s not like we need the money, and our girl is a wonderful mommy to our daughter.
In fact, when we walk in the door, Violet is sitting on the floor with Geranium, playing a game. Gerry coos and giggles at her mommy, who peers out between her fingers. “I see you!” Violet cries as she removes her hands from her face. We play peek-a-boo every single day, but Geranium still giggles uproariously and claps like she’s surprised every time.
“Hi ladies!” Mike sings. He walks over to them while I start putting the groceries away. Geranium raises her pudgy little arms up, demanding to be held, and Mike obliges, taking her into his arms. I grin at the sight. I worried, at first, that I would be jealous--what if Geranium liked him more than she liked me? But there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing our daughter love my best friend as much as I do. Mike is a great guy and an amazing dad, and together, we can be a better, stronger father figure for our child.
While Mike is occupied with Geranium, Violet comes over to me and slips her arms around my waist. My stomach flip-flops just looking at her. God, she’s so beautiful; her curves became even more luscious after she gave birth, and she has a certain glow to her these days. I’m a lucky man.
“Hey, babe,” Violet whispers.
I kiss her, entwining my fingers through hers. “Hey, love,” I murmur back. “How’s your day been?”
“Good,” she says. “Grandma Rose and Grandpa Wilbur Facetimed us and we were very excited.”
“Did she blow kisses at them?” I ask.
“Of course!” Violet laughs. “It’s your daughter’s new favorite thing to do.”
Violet’s parents were more than a little concerned when we first took them to dinner and told them of our relationship. They were worried about the controversy we would create, and that Geranium would grow up “wrong” because of her “abnormal” upbringing. But we were eventually able to convince them that two dads just meant twice as much love. It took a little while, but what could Rose and Wilbur Means really do? After all, their daughter is an adult, and not only that, but Violet was already pregnant. Since coming around, they’ve been nothing but a delight to visit with, and they love Facetiming with their granddaughter. Hopefully they’ll come visit around Christmas.
Even more, Violet tells me that one of the best parts of being with us is that her parents have finally stopped bugging her to lose weight. They’ve stopped purchasing products for her from the Orgo Weight Loss line, and stopped harassing her to land a man because she already has. She’s landed two of us in fact.
Viole
t suddenly pulls away to arch a brow at me. “Did you get the milk?”
I must look worried because her arched brow ascends a millimeter.
“Almond milk, and it was Mike’s idea,” I say quickly.
“Only if I was right!” he calls from the other room.
Violet laughs. “Yes, almond milk, thank you!”
“Phew,” I say, wiping imaginary sweat from my brow. “That could have been disastrous.”
Violet shakes her head as she helps me put the rest of the groceries away. “I should not let you two run errands unsupervised.”
“Why not?” Mike asks innocently, coming into the kitchen with a very happy Geranium still in his arms. “We’re a great team.”
“At ping pong, maybe,” Violet laughs. “And at raising our daughter, definitely. But grocery shopping? I’m not so convinced.”
I grin. “We managed alright this time.”
Once the groceries have been put away, we settle into a familiar routine: Violet gives Geranium a bath, Mike starts grading papers, and I cook dinner. We rotate cooking duties, but I always enjoy making food for my family. Besides, I think I’m in a better mood for grading after I’ve eaten something delicious. Mike, however, prefers to “get it over with as soon as possible,” in his words.
We sit down at the family dining table when I’m finished with the salmon and salad. Geranium has been put to bed, having eaten her supper a little earlier and my buddy begins to pour us each a glass of wine, but Violet shakes her head.
“Not tonight,” she demurs.
“Why not?” I ask. “It’s a really nice Riesling we got just for you.”
“I’ll just stick with water tonight,” she says with a coy smile.
Mike looks at me, and I look at him, our brows arched. When we both turn to look at Violet, she’s visibly blushing, but trying to hide it by pressing her palms to her cheeks.