Forever & Ever

by Tere Michaels

  Matt sank back into the pillows, sighing sadly. He could smell so many delicious things. Stupid surgery. “You’re a real taskmaster, Griffin.”

  “You have no idea.” Griffin got a weird look on his face, then patted Matt on the head. “Tomorrow you can have what you want. Everyone here loves you, but we don’t want you vomiting all over the place because you ate braised beef a few hours after surgery.”

  “Fine. But I want double your idea of a serving of bread,” he said petulantly, folding his arms over his chest and ignoring the tug against his side. “And some more water. With a lemon.”

  “A whole lemon or just a decorative wedge?”

  “Wedge.”

  Griffin leaned over to kiss Matt on the forehead. “Idiot. Married idiot.”

  “Like looking in a mirror.” Matt flushed, which earned him another kiss.

  As Griffin walked away, Evan came into his line of vision. “Should I be worried about you and Griffin?”

  “No, you should be worried about what happens when the rest of the kids show up and someone lets it slip that we’re… you know.” Matt waggled his eyebrows.

  “Having sex?”

  “Are you drunk?”

  Evan shrugged as he sat down on the edge of the couch. “Exhausted. Some guy scared the crap out of me today.”

  “Michael Moore?”

  “That’s the documentary guy. You mean Michael Myers.”

  Matt pointed to his side. “I think I’m still impaired.” He reached up to take Evan’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. “Sorry about that. It wasn’t for attention or to get the kids home. I swear.”

  Evan made a face. “Unfunny.”

  “I know you hate hospitals,” he said gently. “But through the magic of medical technology and lasers, I am here now and fine. Completely fine.”

  “Let’s not do this again.” Evan pulled their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against Matt’s wrist. “Please.”

  “Deal. I’m being deprived of good catered food. It’s torture.”

  “Wait ’til the kids get here.”

  MATT ATE under Evan’s supervision; he tried to flutter his eyelashes for a beer, but no one gave in.

  The doorbell rang again.

  Griffin beat Evan to the door, leaping over the ottoman with dramatic flair.

  “Stand back, it’s about to get crowded in here!” he shouted.

  THE LIVING room was packed. Evan hugged and reassured all three of his other kids, shook Kent’s hand. The rest of their friends came in to share another round of hugs and handshakes until he became distracted, wondering if their floor could hold this much weight.

  “Go back and eat, please,” he said, trying to sound hospitable.

  Danny and Elizabeth got first dibs on Matt, affectionate and sweet at his side until Miranda stood by the coffee table and cleared her throat repeatedly.

  “Hey, Miranda, happy pre-Christmas,” Matt said sweetly, offering her a cheek to kiss as the twins moved out of her way.

  “Hmph. You ruined our dramatic surprise.” She sat on the edge of the chair closest to him, still in her coat. “Now I suppose I have to buy you a real gift.”

  “I’m a large in sweaters and I like the color red.”

  Miranda hid her smile behind her hand. “I have an extra package of tube socks with your name on it.”

  “Just what I always wanted.” He indicated the kitchen. “There’s a ton of delicious food in there if you want something.”

  She made a face, shaking her head. “We ate on the plane,” she offered, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m good.”

  IT WAS finally quiet, at least in the living room. The children had finally torn themselves away from Matt’s side to descend on the buffet. Daisy handed Evan a plate of chicken nachos, which set off his hunger for the first time all day. His stomach growled dramatically as he eyed the pile of shredded meat and cheese and salsa. He dug his fork in, lifted a pile of goodness to his mouth, and nearly dropped it in his lap as Katie called a dramatic “Dad!” from across the room.

  “Oh shit,” Matt muttered from beside him. “I wonder who spilled the beans. Ten bucks says it was Griffin on a sugar high.”

  “How should we handle this?” Evan asked, sadly putting the plate of nachos down on the coffee table.

  “Back room? A heavy dose of sympathy? A dramatic exit through the bathroom window?”

  “You might need to pinch your side until you cry.”

  Jim appeared holding his own plate of nachos—half the size of Evan’s abandoned one—and, oddly, celery. “You just had surgery, so there are two options—you sit here and we herd all the non-Cerellis into the other room, or you sit here and we herd all the non-Cerellis into the other room.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t yelled at us yet,” Matt said.

  Shrugging, Jim picked off a jalapeño, then popped it into his mouth. “Saving it. Might need it later,” he said after swallowing. “Also, your kids are gonna ream both your asses better than even I could.”

  He walked away, chuckling.

  “I miss him,” Evan muttered as his four children ringed the couch, each with an expression of irritation.

  “Okay, this is what happened.” Evan took a deep breath. “Right before Jim and Griffin got married—”

  “Ha! I knew it!” Griffin yelled from the kitchen.

  “I asked Matt to marry me.”

  “In a parking lot.”

  Evan sighed. “He said yes. And we went to city hall….”

  Elizabeth gasped dramatically as Katie crossed her arms angrily across her chest.

  “And that was it.”

  The silence was deafening. Each of his children appeared betrayed; he looked at Miranda, wondering if her expression was about him being married to someone other than her mother.

  She was the first person to speak. “That was kind of selfish,” she said finally, her mouth tight. “You know that at the very least, we would all want to be there.”

  Evan could have been knocked over with a feather.

  “Miranda, it’s my fault. I wanted a quiet—” Matt tried to interject, but Miranda was having zero part of that.

  “No—if anyone made the decision, it was Dad.” She turned her laser-sharp expression on him.

  “We didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

  “But it’s a big deal! To us! How would you have felt if Austin and I eloped!” Katie stood up, then sat down again. “I mean… jeez. And then you didn’t even tell us!”

  “Ow?” Matt offered, giving Katie a hangdog expression. “My side hurts.”

  “Oh my God.” Danny’s strident voice—a voice no one was used to—made Evan jump. “So what? It’s over with. They’re married. And for a bunch of people with their own secrets, you’re all very self-righteous.”

  Evan narrowed his gaze. “Who has secrets?”

  Danny pointed at Katie, then Miranda, then Elizabeth.

  Then himself.

  Matt awkwardly raised his arms over his head. “Off the hook!”

  IN THE kitchen, the crowd migrated their chairs close to the doorway to hear. Only the kids were immune to the drama as they sat on the floor, shoveling food in their faces in happy anticipation of dessert.

  Helena didn’t bother to sit; she leaned on the doorway, eavesdropping as she sipped her beer.

  “Shh, shh. First secret,” she translated to the rest of the group. “Danny has a girlfriend!”

  Griffin shrugged as he stole a taco off Jim’s plate. “He’s old enough.”

  “She’s thirty-five and a teacher at St. John’s.”

  The adults exchanged looks.

  “Where’s Evan’s gun?” Jim asked.

  “Shhhhh! Second secret.” Helena strained to hear Elizabeth. “Ohhh, she’s considering the police academy!”

  Helena and Jim high-fived.

  “Why do I think those are the easy ones?” Daisy asked, leaning over to wipe the faces of all three of the ch
ildren, who dodged her efforts.

  “Miranda and Katie are going at the same time.”

  Austin and Kent exchanged looks, an unspoken discussion of raised eyebrows and then grins.

  “Uh, that’s our cue,” Austin said with a chuckle, giving Kent a thump on the back.

  Daisy watched them go, then broke into a huge smile. “Get ready for the explosion.”

  WHEN AUSTIN and Kent joined the family, Matt had a very strong feeling of what the next words were going to be. He looked at Evan’s slightly stormy expression—they would discuss Danny’s Mrs. Robinson and Elizabeth’s career choices soon enough—and felt a peaceful wave wash over him.

  He took Evan’s hand, watched the two couples do the same, and held his breath.

  “So weirdly enough, we just discovered that we are both…,” Katie started.

  “Pregnant!” Miranda finished.

  Evan’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  Katie laughed, pointing at her sister. “She’s pregnant.” She pointed at herself. “I’m pregnant.” She pointed at Evan and Matt. “You’re gonna be grandpas.”

  “Holy crap!” Shane yelled from the kitchen.

  “Holy crap,” Evan whispered before lurching forward to hug both his daughters. “Holy… oh my God.”

  “Ugh, if he cries, I’m going to cry,” muttered Danny as his twin burst into tears next to him. “Oh crap.” Like the trouper he was, he put his arms around his sister.

  Matt felt like his heart was going to burst—surely there was an appendix metaphor, but he couldn’t think of it. All he could do was imagine Miranda and Katie as moms and little babies in the house and, oh Lord, he was going to spoil those kids worse than he did with Sadie and Caroline, and now with Josiah living close by—he might have to get a second job—

  “Come here,” Miranda said, catching him in midramble. She stood over him, red-faced and teary-eyed, arms open. “Grandpa.”

  In the end, he blamed the surgery for how much he cried on Miranda’s shoulder.

  THE BABY announcements saved them from the kids’ irritation, but the kitchen full of adults giving Evan the side-eye couldn’t be missed. He made another plate of food under the glares before an idea formed. Evan turned to face his friends, then pulled his Get Out of the Doghouse Free card from thin air.

  “Before anyone yells at me, there’s video and you are all welcome to see it.”

  “You’re a genius,” Matt whispered in his ear as they all settled into the living room to watch their wedding. Bennett and Danny fiddled with Matt’s laptop as Daisy attempted to settle the kids down. “We’re sending the judge a case of good whiskey and Miriam a basket of perfume and soap. Without this recording, we’d be dead.”

  “Is there popcorn?” Griffin asked loudly. “What’s the rating on this thing?”

  Helena thumped the pillow behind her, then relaxed with a loud sigh. “The only thing I want is tears. Big honking sentimental tears to lord over you both.”

  “Can I play Matt in the TV movie?” Daisy asked.

  Bennett turned around as the television came to life. “The bar is now closed.”

  “Someone’s cologne is making me want to hurl,” Miranda muttered.

  Shane scooted over to move farther away from her.

  “Everyone try not to fall in love with me even more than right now. I look spectacular in my suit. And out of it—”

  Evan put his hand over Matt’s mouth, knowing full well there would be licking.

  “Shhhh!” Elizabeth hissed from her seat on the floor.

  All the laughing and chatter died as Judge Wernicky’s chambers came into view.

  “WE’LL BE back tomorrow,” Griffin said, hoisting a sleeping, cupcake-smeared Caroline onto his shoulder. “For a Christmas Eve slash belated wedding reception slash celebration of pregnant ladies.”

  “The caterer said ribs and a three-tiered cake wouldn’t be a problem,” assured Bennett.

  “We’re bringing all our liquor over,” Helena promised.

  “You were very sappy in that video. I’m going to remember that next time you call me sentimental,” Jim pointed out.

  “I’m so glad I saved your life,” Shane sighed. “It’s like our souls are connected now on a special—”

  “Okay, time to go!” Daisy called, herding everyone out the door. “You’ll see each other again in ten hours! And we will be watching that video again—I like it when Matt cries.”

  Evan kissed everyone twice, thanking them three and four times for putting all their plans on hold to come and take care of them. Not spending the holiday together—all together, family and extended—had never felt right. A house of chaos and noise and drama—that was how it was meant to be.

  The kids were all dispersed upstairs to sleep.

  The house, put to rights by everyone, was finally dark except for the little tree, which didn’t seem so sad anymore.

  He found Matt tucked in on the couch, scooted over so there was room for him.

  “We should probably go to sleep because they’ll all be back soon enough.” Matt didn’t sound like he minded. The dopey smile on his face—half joy, half Tylenol—made Evan happy.

  “Remember when we thought it was going to be a quiet Christmas?” Evan skimmed off his pants and shirt before climbing in beside Matt.

  “Remember when we thought we weren’t going to tell anyone we were married?”

  “We’re not very bright, apparently.”

  Evan twisted his body around until they fit, Matt sprawled on Evan’s chest, his bandaged side cushioned by a pillow. He spread the blanket over them with a sigh.

  “Brings back memories,” Matt said, muffled against him.

  “There will be no sexual exploits this evening.”

  “But I was so good this year!”

  “Shut up.”

  They lay quietly, Evan listening to Matt’s breathing, feeling him warm and safe and fine next to him.

  It was all good.

  “Our kids are having kids,” Matt murmured.

  Evan’s heart squeezed. He remembered his girls being born so clearly, and now… in seven months, he’d be welcoming their children into the world. He couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it. But whatever the future held, he had Matt by his side—and that meant everything would work out just fine.

  “You should be Grampy.”

  “Matt….”

  “Pappy? Poppy? Paw-Paw?”

  Evan shut him up with a kiss.

  4: Here’s to You, Mrs. Robinson

  IN THE joyful aftermath of the girls’ announcement of their pregnancies, the announcement about Danny’s (much) older girlfriend felt like a blip on the radar for Evan.

  With the flicker of shame, Evan’s first reaction—in his mind, at least—was “Cool. Congrats.” He’d been in enough locker rooms in his life to call upon a retrospective of backslapping and high-fiving, all at the prospect of catching an experienced woman.

  He didn’t say that at the time, however. He delivered a private and stern “we will talk about this later” to his son, then promptly forgot.

  A few weeks later Katie and Miranda arrived at the house on a chilly Saturday to go through some bins of baby things he kept in storage in the attic.

  The numerous plastic bins were stacked in the Florida room, dusted off meticulously and waiting for a trip down memory lane. He girded his loins against the wave of nostalgia, the bittersweetness of handling little baby socks and blankets without Sherri.

  God, she would have been so proud of their kids. And so excited to be a grandma. Sometimes he tried to picture her right now, the same age as he was, but she stayed frozen in youthful memories.

  It was in this melancholy mood he directed Miranda and Katie to the back of the house after a bunch of tight hugs in the entryway.

  “So how are you going to divide everything up if you don’t know what you’re having?” Evan asked as he opened the first bin. A group text called Stork Alerts kept him updated of every detail; h
e liked knowing what was going on with the girls’ pregnancies. The discussion of whether or not to find out the gender of the babies had gone on for almost two weeks.

  Under the lid, everything was neatly folded; a waft of aged fabric softener made him sniffle.

  “We’re going to find out at the next scan in a few weeks,” Miranda said, poking through the piles. “Kent and I want to have plenty of time to put together the nursery.”

  “Any gut feelings?”

  “I don’t know.” Miranda pulled a stack of receiving blankets into her lap, a rainbow of soft lavenders, yellows, and greens Evan had a vague recollection of wrapping babies in over the years. “Sometimes I’m certain it’s a girl. Like—so strong. I almost bought the sweetest pink paint the other day! Then I start thinking that maybe I want a girl, so that’s why I’m thinking about it.” She frowned. “But I’m not going to be disappointed if it’s a boy. That’s not what I mean. But like—I just know girl stuff better.”

  “You know Kent is a guy, right? He knows guy stuff.”

  “Katie, last week we had a fight over a floral pattern on some throw pillows because—and I quote—the filaments were inaccurate and confusing, according to my husband.” Miranda sighed. “What if we have a sporty child? They’ll feel like an alien.”

  Katie dissolved into giggles, muffling them against her sleeve.

  “You have me and Matt and Danny. And Jim! And Katie, if it’s basketball. Sporty people with sports, uh, thoughts.” Evan gestured at her with the bin lid. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Did you and Mom find out before we were born?” Over her fit of laughter, Katie had opened another bin and now had both hands full of tiny onesies.

  “Not on purpose. It was just a part of the ultrasound. Don’t know if they even asked—they were just like, ‘Hey, it’s a girl, congrats and save your money for those weddings.’” Evan opened a third, finding it full of shoes—from soft and itty-bitty to Danny’s first cleats. Sherri saved everything. “The twins—well, we wanted to know with them.” He chuckled, absently picking up a baby-sized basketball shoe he clearly recalled purchasing when he knew he was getting a son. “Mom knew she had girl clothes, but….”