by David Connor
Tom Alan had been right there holding Erika’s hand as baby Etsuko made her way into the world. Milo held the other, though it had been touch and go for both.
“Get your sweet arse back here, Skater Boy!” Milo had shouted into the phone, panicking even as Erika remained calm.
Tom Alan had been at the airport, just about to board a plane for Shanghai to cover The ISU Grand Prix Cup of China when Erika had gone into labor a couple weeks early. “She’s not due until next month,” he’d said.
“The baby doesn’t seem to care about the calendar, love. I’ve put up with mood swings, and cravings, and uncontrollable crying when I make tea, as if it’s a gesture of kindness akin to rescuing a puppy from under a tractor, but there’s no way in bloody hell I’m goin’ anyways near Flower’s fanny to yank out her redheaded baby.”
“Fanny.” Tom Alan had laughed, despite his nerves and excitement, as he’d sprinted through Stewart International Airport, grateful he wasn’t midair, at least in his retelling. “You do know that’s not where babies come from in America, right?”
Erika smiled at the memory nearly two years later. “Jimbo wanted to know if I was ever married.”
“Jimbo?” Tom Alan asked. “Seriously?”
“James or Jim, I assume. I didn’t ask.”
Tom Alan was still making faces at Etsuko. “You could always date the busboy.”
“I don’t think so.” Erika removed the two kitties, stood, and held out her hands for the baby.
“Already? And what was wrong with the busboy? You some sort of dating snob?”
Erika sighed. “The busboy was a kid. Plus…”
“Plus what?” Tom Alan asked, as he stood and handed over Etsuko.
“I have a feeling any interest in me wouldn’t extend beyond the ice.”
“Ah. Been there, over that, with the gay guys, huh?”
“Not completely.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s go say goodnight to obaasan, Etsuko.”
“Tell Kyoko goodnight for me, too,” Tom Alan said. “Good afternoon, I guess. I thought once your mother was settled in the U.S., she’d be here for good.”
“Me, too. As long as she’s happy…”
Etsuko wrapped her tiny hand around Tom Alan’s finger even as Erika held her. “I wonder if her hair will stay red.”
The baby looked like both her parents, half Japanese, half Irish American. Biology was a miraculous thing.
“I hope so,” Erika said. “Tell Goddaddy night-night.”
“Goddaddy? That’s my official title? Sounds like an Al Pacino movie written by Tina Fey.”
“It’ll do for tonight.” Erika held the baby up for Tom Alan to smooch. “We’ll figure it all out before she can talk.” If Erika didn’t know how to classify her relationship with Tom Alan, how would Etsuko? “Goodnight. And keep it down.”
“Can’t make no promises.” When Tom Alan stretched, his jeans slid partway down. “Make-up sex can get loud.”
And it did. After all of eight minutes, Erika ended up in the nursery again, away from the vent that carried the sound of arguing, then lip smacking, and then a couple of loud groans she envisioned coming from Tom Alan as Milo took his dick down his throat. She ended up with a crick in her neck she rubbed as she stood outside the bathroom door the next morning counting the cherry blossom petals on the wallpaper.
“Come on, Milo! I’m late.” She was ready to drop off Etsuko with her daddy, but someone’s primping was holding her up.
“Use one of the other loos.”
“I don’t need the loo. I need Etsuko’s bag, which I left on the counter.”
“Hold up. I’m brushing my teeth.”
She heard running water. “And that calls for a locked door?”
“I’m in my undies.”
“I’ve seen you in underwear—often. every morning. Come on!”
“I’m also pissing.”
“Eww.” Now she heard that, too. “While brushing your teeth?”
“I got two hands, Flower.” Milo called her that because of the old figure skating saying, the one stating the male partner was the stem and the female the flower. “Only need one for each.”
“That shortcoming’s Tom Alan’s problem, not mine. Open the door.” She heard a flush and then the sound of the knob, a word she often used when referring to Tom Alan’s mate. “Men are gross.” She shoved past the one in tight, bee-striped boxer briefs and reached for her tote.
“I love you, too.” He kissed her on the cheek.
“Wash your hands.”
“My hands came nowhere near you. And my lips last touched willie hours ago.”
Erika couldn’t help but grin. “Pig.”
“Will you never forgive me for stealing your husband right out from under you?” Milo put a hand to his out-of-control bedhead. “You’re a beautiful girl. I promise someday you’ll meet ano—Oomph!”
“Sorry.” When the overstuffed purple paisley bag hit him a second time as she strutted through the door, her smile broadened. “By-ee.”
As Erika trudged through slow morning traffic on her way to Billy’s, a remaining hint of Tom Alan’s cologne from when he’d kissed Etsuko goodbye had her eager to get back into his arms on the ice. The one time they’d made love, it was awkward but gentle, so loving but also sad. She’d lain beside him naked afterwards, and clothed in the nights that followed, as they’d held one another as the only constant each had after so much loss. Even if they never shared another sexual moment, there was an intimacy between them no one else could ever come close to replicating. She imagined it, though—fucking him. She wouldn’t mind his tentative nature—Tom Alan could be so bashful—as he teased her first with just one digit, then wet her with his mouth. She would love to feel the full weight of his six foot six body atop her again as he thrust in and out, so lost and comfortable as things progressed he’d forget to be timid. Tom Alan was huge. She barely came to his chest. The sounds he made with Milo, imagining them against her ear as they came together, the fantasy had often brought her there by herself. She was ready to give in to it now, except the light changed, so she had to move on, in traffic and in life.
Admittedly fickle, once Erika arrived at Billy’s, it was all about him. The sight of Etsuko cradled in his massive arms, burrowed into his burly chest, was still something beautiful to see.
“Hi, baby girl. Daddy missed you.” Billy was a good seven inches shorter than Tom Alan. He wore a Boston Bruins T-shirt and boxer shorts, and his pale, white legs flecked with red wisps were bruised and scarred from another recent hockey game. Erika had called before she’d left the house. Billy was forty minutes away. He’d had plenty of time to put on pants. “Grandma is gonna bring Tuxedo and Mama over later. Yes she is.”
Etsuko bounced excitedly.
“She loves those dogs.”
“They love her, too.” Billy had adopted four dogs out to Wahl family members after a tour in Afghanistan between high school and college. “Sometimes I think we still could have come up with a better name for her.” Mama was the mother of the other three. She was all black. Tuxedo, Domino, and Oreo were all black and white. “You wanna come in a while?”
“Training.” Erika hooked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Just a minute or so. You never answered my text last night.”
“Oh. I forgot. Sorry.”
“It’ll be quick,” Billy said.
Erika looked at him, then stepped inside. Billy’s apartment—the second one he’d shared with Milo when both moved downstate—was all beige, except for Etsuko’s pink swing, pink playpen, and a large pink teddy bear. Milo hadn’t been there long enough to add much decorative flair. Erika also saw a blue book. A text book—French. Billy was studying to become a veterinarian. Why was he learning French?
“You gonna sit?” The careless way he did, after plopping Etsuko in her swing in front of Bubble Guppies on the TV, offered a view of himself Erika fondly remembered: its taste, and girth in her tightness.
Was he doing it on purpose?
“I’ll stand.”
If he was he horny, hoping for a quickie, before Erika took off to spend four hours on her feet or being hurled across the rink…Fat chance.
“Suit yourself.” He leaned back into the couch.
Fat dick. Maybe she could…
“So I heard about your date last night.” Billy picked up a bath towel from the laundry basket on the floor in front of him.
“Oh?” Was he jealous?
“From your busboy.” Etsuko giggled when he shook it out before starting to fold it.
“My busboy?”
“Kensuke’s his name.”
“Yeah.”
“And I think he’s probably gay.”
“Yeah? How do you know all this?” Erika wasn’t that famous, not anymore, hardly worthy of a mention on TMZ or anything like that over a spilled drink at a restaurant. In Japan she was, but not the States, where alleged diehard figure skating fans often walked right past her and Tom Alan looking for Tara and Johnny.
“I know Kensuke,” Billy said. “He plays on my team.” He nodded towards an autographed hockey stick hanging on the wall. “He doesn’t know the whole story with us—you and me, our connection. He just called ‘cause we’re tight like that. These kids think I’m all cool and stuff.”
“Do they?” His eyes are up there, Erika reminded herself.
“Like I said…” Billy ignored the snark. “He was excited. Once I told him I actually know you guys, he begged me to hook up a meeting with you and Tom, and Booger Fisher.”
“Milo.”
“He’ll always be Booger to me.”
“Sure. I don’t see a problem with that.” Erika turned for the door.
“There’s more.”
She turned back. “Such as?”
“Well, if he does play for Tom and Booger’s team, not just mine, if you get what I’m saying…”
“Your subtleties aren’t lost.”
“Then he’s probably down with figure skating way more than hockey, right?”
“Jerk.” Erika picked up the closest thing to her—an oven mitt from the counter at her back—and chucked it.
“Hey!” Billy squawked.
“That’s a stereotype.”
“It is not. Jesus!”
Erika didn’t even try to catch the oven mitt when it flew back her way.
“I just thought meeting some gay people might be good for Kensuke.” Billy shrugged. “In case he’s having trouble coming to terms.” He rubbed his arm where the pot holder barely brushed him. “I was going for…something nice here, babe.”
His puppy dog pout was precious. “I know you were.” Erika let her arms drop to her sides. “Has he told you he’s gay?”
“No. He just…acts gay. Don’t hit me!”
She’d already raised her hand, even though she had quadruple jumped to the same conclusion.
“And it doesn’t matter to me if he is, just so you know. Except…” Billy picked a mug up off the glass-topped coffee table and took a big gulp.
“Except?”
“He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Oh.”
“At least she thinks she’s his girlfriend.” He set down the mug with World’s Best Dad printed across it. “From all outward appearances. She’s my star player. I guess Kensuke could be bisexual…or at least bi-curious.”
“Yes. He could be. There is such a thing, you know.” Erika folded her arms across her chest again.
“I’m aware,” Billy huffed. “I’m only part Neanderthal. Oh no! Is that offensive to Neanderthals?”
“Ha ha.”
“I had a life before I met you, you know.”
“As what?”
Billy balled up the same navy blue bath towel he’d started with. “You and me…it was…whirlwind. That’s the word, right?” He stopped and looked at her a second. “First we argued and insulted each other, then you flirted and seduced me to get me into bed.”
“I think you’re rewriting history.”
“We fell in love…had sex…Maybe reverse that. Then all our talk was dirty, until you told me you were marrying Tom. Then all we talked about was that. We talked about that a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“No. I mean a lot—around and around, over and over.”
“Okay, Billy. I get it. What’s your damned point?”
“Unless I’m just using all that as an excuse.”
“For what?”
“His name was Randy.”
“Randy?”
Billy stood, like before. This time, he turned away, almost wistfully. He hugged his towel, and Erika got comfortable against the wall. “We played doctor a lot. Not like that.” He looked back and scowled, though Erika hadn’t uttered a single syllable. “We played vet, with all of Brianna’s stuffed animals. She had this huge bear Mom and Dad gave her one Christmas. Randy would bring it in and I’d make it all better. Valentine’s Day came around and I was in CVS with Mom. They had one of those ginormous cards…you know, the ones as big as a small person, that happened to have a bear on the front. I asked Mom if she’d buy it, so I could give it to Randy.”
“Aww.”
“She refused…because it was almost ten bucks. She let me pick out one from the regular rack, though, so I didn’t have to give him the same stupid Pokémon cards everyone else was getting.” Billy started to pace. “It was pretty mushy, this card, something like, ‘Of all my favorite things, you’re my favorite of all,’ and it had some stuff from that song on the front—the kitten, the mittens, the kettle and a wet rose.”
Erika fought a smile.
“Valentine’s Day fell right before winter break. I gave the card to Randy…and he didn’t speak to me for four years.”
“Oh. I’m sorry that happened.” She brushed Billy’s cheek when he came to a stop right in front of her. “But I’m not sure a childhood crush—”
“The summer of that fourth year, and the next four that followed, we gave each other blowjobs all through vacation bible school.”
“Oh.”
“After graduation, he never spoke to me again.”
Of all the things Erika was thinking, she said, “Your mother is awesome.”
“No argument here.”
Billy was quiet then, but he still had a stranglehold on his towel.
“Keep going,” Erika said.
“It hurt me to see Randy every day and not be friends. I hated that we were…”
“Estranged?”
“Okay. That. All I knew about sexual feelings then was the ones I got looking at the underwear pages in the JC Penney book—bras and panties sometimes, boxer briefs and tighty-whities other times. I knew I really wanted to see a naked dude that wasn’t one of my brothers and a naked chick…girl…woman.”
“Take a breath.”
He did, and also released his towel from its stranglehold.
“I bet you’re a little surprised,” he said afterward.
“No.” That was a lie.
“Even if I’d only been with one guy and a whooooole lot of women…”
Erika challenged that with the arch of one brow.
“The point is, I guess I wasn’t really sure the bisexual label even fit…until later in life…when I was with a couple more of…each.” Billy swiped at his face. His other hand stayed at his side. He had scars, too, like Tom Alan. He and Erika hadn’t talked much about those either. “Even if I hadn’t been with a guy for a while by the time you and me got together, even if talking was at a minimum and our whole relationship was on and off in a blink, and now we’re basically exes with benefits…”
Erika wanted to smack him for that.
“It’s probably the sort of thing people who are intimate with one another should share.”
“Probably.” When he finally looked at her, she wanted to hug him.
“You’re not…pissed, disgusted…whatever?” Billy moved to Etsuko and picked her skating Snoopy up off the floor w
here she’d dropped it.
“No.” This time, Erika’s answer was honest. Despite many marathon sexting sessions back in the day and actually sleeping together a dozen times, this was the most intimate they had ever been.
“I’m nervous with guys. One I went out with insisted I was gay and just wouldn’t admit it. That kind of bullshit doesn’t sit right with me. I know what I am. Another time, I actually chickened out on a Grindr hookup. He was alright. Paul was his name.” Billy finally gave up on the towel he’d been cradling and dropped it back in the basket. “I’m pretty secure in my game when it comes to women.”
“Justifiably so.”
“You’d think it would be the other way. I know what I like, and that should translate. I was giving head one time…” Billy laughed. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
She sort of did.
“Even if what we had was fast and complicated, even if we rushed in and out of it, it’s important you know my feelings for you were completely real. I loved you.”
“I don’t doubt that.” She was a little upset about the use of past tense, however. “I’m glad you told me. Though I have to wonder…why now?”
Billy shrugged. “Didn’t it just come up in conversation?”
“It seems like more.”
Another shrug.
“Does Milo know?”
“No.”
“As close as the two of you are…”
Billy had been the first one on his feet for Milo when he and Jenn took bronze in Sochi, and also when he got booed at the press conference afterward for making a speech in support of Russia’s LGBTQ community. When Billy freaked out at the thought of becoming a father, Milo was there for him, too. “I’ve seen you coaching little five-year-olds, haven’t I? It won’t be that different. Just don’t put on the goalie mask when changing a nappy. That thing makes you look a little scary.”
“It wasn’t easy keeping it from him, I tell you that,” Billy said, heading for the kitchen—all of four steps. “Morning wood he never bothered to hide…trips from the shower to his room with no towel on…” He kicked the oven mitt into the air, caught it one-handed, and put it back on the counter. Erika wanted to fuck him.
“Knowing Milo, I’m surprised he didn’t hit on you just in case.”
“Oh, he did. Multiple times, but I’ve never been interested in sleeping with a whole bunch of people at once, like he was.”