Forever & Ever

by Tere Michaels

  “Ahhhh.” That made a bit more sense, and Matt released a bit of his cranky resentment. He was still mad at the world, but he couldn’t deny his friend’s enthusiasm in getting a wonderful gift for his wife.

  “What did you get Evan, by the way?”

  Matt knew his next words would result in him spending time at a mall at some point today, but he also knew Shane, and unless he wanted to be asked the same question for twenty miles…. “Nothing. We decide not to exch—”

  He got no farther. Shane gasped, then hit a button on the NASA-level dashboard. “Siri, call Wifey.”

  “Oh, gross.”

  HELENA SHOWED up in Evan’s office with a bag from the local bakery and a take-out tray of coffees, her face folded into a judgey frown. “Soooo….”

  “Any word on the mission of holiday mercy?” Evan signed his name on another piece of paper—the first of many—and then gestured toward his visitor chair.

  “They’re on their way.” She dropped the goodies on his desk. “Shane is going all out to cheer Matt up.”

  “And I’m your project?”

  “Duh. We did rock, paper, scissors and I lost,” Helena said, dry as the Sahara.

  “Hey!”

  She sat down with a regal air, her look pointed. “What’s this about not exchanging gifts? You need to exchange gifts.”

  “Do you work for Macy’s or something? We’re not in the mood this year, and there’s nothing we need.” Except our children to be home, he thought, but he didn’t say that aloud. Helena would probably organize an international kidnapping.

  “Gifts for your spouse aren’t about need, they’re about expressing your love.”

  “Ah, you work for Hallmark. Got it.” Evan took the coffee labeled “crankypantsmotherhumper” and then began to dig through the bag. “And Matt isn’t my spouse.”

  The snort of derision made him look up.

  “Not officially, at least,” he added, calm as a cucumber, trying to remain unruffled while Helena watched him like a hawk.

  No one—save him and Matt, Abe Klein, Judge Wernicky, and Miriam, who still sent them Christmas cards—knew about the trip to city hall several years ago. It was their secret; at best, everyone suspected they were engaged and would be “forever” because neither of them wanted the hassle of a wedding.

  Which was entirely true, except for the part where they got married at city hall. And didn’t tell anyone.

  “I’m taking this delicious-looking strudel,” Evan said, attempting to distract his eagle-eyed former partner. “You can have the tiny sad bran muffin.”

  “I already ate. They’re both for you.” Helena crossed her arms over her chest. “We need to get you a gift to give Matt.”

  “Now see, I remember talking about how we’re not doing that this year.” Evan took a large bite of strudel, losing himself momentarily in the obscene perfection of seventy pounds of butter, apples, and delicate dough.

  “Your calendar is free around three, so we’ll go out then.”

  Evan chewed. Matt was right—he was going to make her buy him a steak.

  “HELENA SAID she’s taking Evan shopping, so we can make a stop on our way back,” Shane said, bopping out a festive beat on the steering wheel as they sat in traffic. Splats of icy rain hit the windshield.

  “I know, I was here when you talked to her.” Matt shifted again; his back was complaining about being seated for so long (not the drive, but rather all the days he’d spent being a sad lump), and that praline crap—not sitting all that well either. Maybe he really did have the flu. If he threw up in Shane’s truck, maybe he’d be able to skip the mall.

  “Do you have any ideas?” Shane moved the monster truck up a half an inch.

  “For the gift I said I wasn’t going to get Evan? No.”

  “Have you considered jewelry?”

  Matt twisted in his seat. “Are you confusing Evan and Helena again?”

  “Helena hates jewelry,” Shane said, as if that was the main difference between the two. “Maybe a watch or uhhh….”

  “Oh my God, what are you trying to unsubtly get at?”

  Shane took a deep dramatic breath, then let it out in a slow hiss, like he’d sprung a leak. “What about a ring?”

  “A….” At that moment, a jackknifing pain hit Matt in the middle. He scrambled for a moment, looking for something, and blessedly, Shane seemed to understand the blind fumbling. A small garbage bag appeared under Matt’s nose right in the nick of time.

  “Okay, so not a ring,” Shane said a few seconds after Matt stopped throwing up.

  IN HER office at Boston Celtics headquarters, Katie Cerelli Hill put the last of her belongings in a tote bag her boss had given her. Sadness over leaving the organization bubbled below the surface, but she knew this was the right decision.

  She and Austin had talked—and talked and talked—about the future. Even before the big baby news (which wasn’t actually big, because only three people knew), Katie felt homesick. She missed her dad and Matt. She missed New York. She hated that her stepson Josiah didn’t get to appreciate the full court insanity that was her family on a regular basis. While Boston had been a wonderful experience for the past few years, it just wasn’t home.

  When Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai came calling for Austin, Katie took it as a sign. An advanced degree in biomedical engineering made Austin a man with options, but Icahn nosed past everyone with the opportunity to move back to New York. And do his postdoc. And make Katie happy. Even Josiah climbed on board the NYC train. Win, win, win.

  The double line on the pregnancy test just confirmed they were making the right move at the perfect time.

  As she closed up her office, Austin was back home packing their last few possessions. A truck would be winding its way down to New York—Astoria, Queens, to be exact—where they’d rented a house, but they were driving down early to surprise her dads.

  Oh man, they were going to be so damn happy. Then she was going to tell them they had to get married because as a pregnant person, she could make demands like that. Also, she was Matt’s favorite.

  Her phone buzzed on the now empty desktop.

  Miranda.

  Katie put her on speaker.

  “What up, creampuff?”

  “Weirdo. Listen, I wanted to run something by you. I know you’re working on Christmas Eve, but maybe we can skype Dad and Matt all together?”

  “Ummm….” Katie knew she was playing with fire by lying to her siblings, but they could not keep secrets at a criminal level, and no way she and Austin could pull this off if they knew. “Sure. What time?”

  “Not sure yet.” There was suddenly a burst of sound like an announcement over a PA system. At an airport. The sound became muffled after that.

  Katie stopped putting things in the bag. “Miranda? Where are you?”

  “The, uh, Underground. I have to go—my train is coming. I’ll call you later bye!”

  The line went dead.

  Katie’s Spidey sense went wild. Miranda was literally the worst liar on the planet. No wait—there was one person even worse.

  She swiped down until she found her baby sister’s name and pressed Elizabeth on her phone’s surface. She’d get to the bottom of this in less than five minutes.

  IT TOOK her ten.

  TWO HOURS later, in front of her laptop in their empty apartment, Katie waited for her siblings to show up on Skype. Behind her, Austin and Josiah played basketball in the wide expanse of their living room, dodging boxes.

  “If you break something…,” she warned as the computer began to chime.

  “There’s nothing to break!” Josiah said delightedly, spinning around the center of the room.

  One by one they appeared—Miranda, Elizabeth, and Danny, all looking various shades of guilty.

  “You’re going home and you weren’t going to tell me!” she said, even as Josiah yelled, “Wait, aren’t we…” in the background before his words got muffled—she assumed by Austin�
��s hand.

  “Kent’s parents gave us their airline miles.” Miranda sounded—and looked—defensive. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

  “I wanted to tell you,” Elizabeth said primly, twisting her long brown hair around one finger, a nervous habit that narrowed Katie’s gaze.

  Danny shrugged, his St. John’s shirt tight across his shoulders. Wait, when did her baby brother get so big?

  “Well, I forgive you,” she started as Austin laughed loudly in the background. “Because we’re going home too.”

  Elizabeth shrieked, clapping as Miranda gave her a truly epic eye roll.

  “Permanently,” Katie added sweetly as she gestured at the empty space behind her.

  Miranda sat up at that. “What?”

  “We’re moving back to New York! Austin’s doing his postdoc at Icahn.” Katie couldn’t contain her delight as Elizabeth danced in her chair. Even Danny cracked a smile. “Daddy and Matt are going to flip.”

  “So we all show up for Christmas, you announce you’re coming home, and we announce….” Miranda trailed off, a blush spotting her cheeks.

  “You announce what?” Katie leaned forward, her nose practically touching the screen.

  “Nothing. I’ll tell you Christmas Eve,” Miranda whispered as Danny snorted one window over.

  “We can hear you.”

  Wriggling with excitement, the four siblings worked out their plans. Katie typed everyone’s flight information in her phone. If the travel gods were on their side, they’d all be rolling up on Christmas Eve at about ten o’clock, with the very best present imaginable.

  “Are we getting anything, you know, besides us?” Danny asked as they wrapped everything up.

  “Welllll, I’d like to continue the subtle campaign to get them married,” Katie said, smirking at Miranda.

  She got another eye roll.

  “You know I’m fine with it.” The now was unspoken. “But they don’t seem interested.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to stay something, then snapped it closed.

  Danny tapped on the table. “They own a house together; they got all that paperwork and stuff. Dad hates parties, Matt hates parties that don’t involve ribs….”

  “All of these things are true, but there’s a layer of protection that comes—legally—from being married,” Katie argued. “And it’s not like I’m advocating formal tuxes at the Astoria Grand Palace and a ten-tier wedding cake.”

  “Cake sounds good, actually,” Danny mumbled.

  “I just think we should let them know if they want to get married, we all support it.” Aggressively, she added in her head. “Right?”

  “Yes, we all support it. It will never happen, but we support it.” Miranda raised her hands in the air. “And I think all of us showing up is a perfectly fine Christmas gift.”

  “We should get a card,” Elizabeth added. “I’ll get the card.”

  “Great. Card. International travel. Interstate travel. Go Cerellis and Cerellis by marriage!” Katie clapped enthusiastically. “If you’re going to be late, text me. I don’t want to stand out in the cold waiting for anyone.”

  Danny gave her a salute.

  BUNDLED UP against the cold, Evan walked beside Helena, who continued to espouse potential gifts for Matt.

  “No. No. No.”

  “We could go to Bloomingdale’s—”

  “And get what? I’d have to steal a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom to find anything Matt would want at Bloomingdale’s.”

  “Can you get him something nice like a power tool? Would that make it better?” Helena’s perk was starting to wane.

  “We don’t need anything. We don’t want anything besides….” Evan sighed. “Besides the kids being home. Which they’re not. No gift is going to change us being assholes this holiday.” He stopped, pulling Helena closer to the building, out of the way of the rush of lunchgoers and tourists.

  Her face made him sad.

  “Life sucks sometimes. We both know that. We’ll get over it.”

  Pouting, Helena wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to.”

  “Don’t punch me in the stomach for this, but—are you seeing your folks for the holidays?”

  Helena pulled back, and he felt suddenly glad she no longer carried a firearm. “We just bought the new place, and we’re renovating, and I mean, after the holidays we have plans…,” she rambled.

  Evan held up his hand. “And I’m sure Serena and Vic understand. They aren’t happy, but they understand. Your kids grow up, they make their own lives. You can’t keep them little forever. It sucks, but it’s life.”

  “Ugh. I feel so guilty now.” Helena whacked her head against Evan’s chest.

  “Sorry,” he said, though he really wasn’t. If he wouldn’t use parental guilt on his own kids, he was actually okay to use it on behalf of his former captain and Helena’s mom.

  “I swear to God. All I wanted to do was get you and Matt married. Now I want to call my mom.”

  Evan froze.

  Helena must’ve registered the tension and stepped back, biting her lip. “Sorry.”

  “We’re fine.”

  “I know.”

  “We’re happy with the way things are.” Not a lie. He was very happy with the way things were—married to Matt and no one knowing.

  “I know.”

  He made a wide-armed gesture. “Then why?”

  Helena stamped her foot. “I don’t know. When we talk about it—”

  “You talk about it? With who?” The image of a backroom conspiracy club with a secret knock began forming in his brain.

  “Me, Shane. Daisy and Bennett. Jim and Griffin. Veronica, the waitress at the coffee shop near our house. The kids….”

  Yeah. Definitely a secret knock.

  “The kids?” Evan’s growing panic took a weird left turn. He knew Katie wanted them to get married and suspected Elizabeth would be delighted. Danny existed in neutral territory at all times, and, well, they’d come a long, long way with Miranda.

  But they were talking about it?

  At some point they realized it would come out, but he thought they’d be old and gray and about to be parked in a retirement community. He hadn’t a clue discussions were occurring.

  “Yeah.” Helena gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, this is really not going like the notes from our last meeting.”

  “I really don’t want to see them.”

  Helena’s ringtone began to sound. “Oh great, exactly what I need right now—some sort of crisis,” Helena groused as she pulled out the phone. “No, it’s Shane.”

  She put the phone up against her ear and said, “Hey, baby.” Then her face dropped into a frown.

  When she reached out to grip his arm, Evan started to internally freak out.

  “APPENDICITIS,” THE doctor at New York-Presbyterian Queens told Evan and Helena when they arrived in the emergency room.

  “Surgery,” Dr. Umrani said, sympathetic but smiling. “We’ll do laparoscopic—he won’t even have to stay the night if recovery goes well.”

  The simmering fear shaking Evan’s very core started to subside. Shane’s call had left him almost unable to move from their sheltered spot on the sidewalk; thank God Helena was the one with him, understanding exactly why Evan’s legs were not moving.

  Helena squeezed Evan’s hand tightly.

  “Can I see him before surgery?” Evan croaked out.

  “Absolutely. I just need you to speak to our admissions person, get the paperwork filled out.”

  “You have a civil partnership, right? Do you need some sort of proof? I can go to the house….” Helena started babbling nervously, but Evan just shook his head.

  “We’re married. He’s on my insurance.” Evan reached into his pocket for his wallet.

  Dr. Umrani just nodded, nonplussed. “Well, let’s get you in to say hello, and then we’ll deal with formalities.”

  “WHAT?” HELENA whispered as they f
ollowed the white coat down the corridor toward a small room, past hurrying staff and large pieces of equipment. “Excuse me?”

  “We got married a few years ago, we didn’t tell anyone, you can yell at me later,” Evan said, ducking around a patient in a wheelchair being pushed down the hall. He just wanted to see Matt, hear him bitch about the pain and the noises and the smells. Emergency rooms held too many terrible memories, and he didn’t want to be here unless he could be with Matt.

  “We had meetings!”

  In through a plain beige curtain, and Matt lay on the hospital bed, looking pale and put out. Beside him, Shane held his hand like they were floating in the middle of the Atlantic as the Titanic sank behind them.

  Dr. Umrani—wisely—shooed Shane into Helena’s arms as Evan stood at the foot of the bed, gaze riveted to Matt’s face. “Mr. Haight, we’ll be sending you to the operating room shortly,” he said as he checked Matt’s vitals. “But I’ll give you a few moments with your husband.”

  Matt looked a little panicked, but Evan shook his head, patting Matt’s stockinged foot. “It’s fine,” he said gently as Matt relaxed. When Dr. Umrani vacated the space at his side, Evan scooted into it.

  “Hi,” he said, leaning down to kiss Matt on the cheek.

  “I threw up in the monster truck and Shane panicked,” Matt murmured, leaning into Evan. “We came to the ER because Shane is dramatic.”

  “And, in this case, right.” Evan took Matt’s hand in his.

  “Shhh, don’t tell him that.”

  Evan wanted to be jokey and lighthearted, but all he knew was that Matt needed surgery and he hated hospitals with a violent passion. This wasn’t Sherri, this wasn’t the worst day of his life, but just the implication….

  Matt seemed to read his mind. “I’m fine. Except for the appendix. And they’re doing something fancy so I can go home later, although you’ll still need to wait on me hand and foot.”

  “Make sure they write a prescription for that.” Evan dropped another kiss, this time on Matt’s temple.