“Trent threatened to buy me condoms.” Jericho stared at Jordan in disbelief as his face grew uncomfortably hot. He ducked his chin, doing his best to avoid Jordan’s gaze. “Hey, no, Jericho. Don’t feel bad. It’s no big deal.” There was laughter in Jordan’s voice when he said, “I just told him I had my own stash.” Jericho tipped his head back, eyes closed as he struggled to take in a breath through the laughter threatening to burst out of him at the idea of Trent hearing those words. As open as his uncles were about their own relationship, Trent had been reluctant to even admit to what Jericho was building with Jordan. He’d stuffed his fingers in his ears one day rather than hear Jake gently teasing about Jericho’s boyfriend. Jordan chuckled, amusement vibrating his voice as he continued talking. “I’m not sure what he thought I’d say, but it wasn’t that. He sputtered for a good two minutes. It was so bad, Jacob had to rescue him.”
“Oh, God. What did Daddy Jake do?” Jericho shivered and shook his head vigorously. “You know what? That sounds way too weird. I can’t do it. Nope, can’t do it. Take two: What’d Uncle Jake do?”
“No threats. He just said he expected our firstborn to be named after him.”
Jericho slumped in the seat, scrunching down so his butt was hanging off into space, head far below the level of the window. “My family is so insane.”
“No.” Jordan had kept his grip on Jericho’s hand and lifted the backs of his knuckles to his lips for another gentle kiss. “That’s just how family is.”
***
Jericho leaned against the fender of Jordan’s car, feet spread wide enough for Jordan to stand between his legs. The house rose behind where they were parked in the driveway, the only light from inside visible through Jericho’s bedroom window, the dim square shedding only slight illumination. The moon overhead cast a glow bright enough to see Jordan’s face, and that was all Jericho needed. The cries of cicadas said that dusk was past, nighttime dimming the landscape, settling cool shadows around everything. Jericho’s hands were on Jordan’s waist, and as Jordan pressed a final brushing touch against his lips, he had to concentrate to not clench tightly, not try to hold him in place.
Another pass of Jordan’s lips on his, and Jericho felt the heat and wet from a slow swipe of Jordan’s tongue. Breathing fast, he opened his mouth in invitation. Jordan groaned and slanted his mouth across Jericho’s, the silken glide of his tongue a confident caress Jericho never wanted to end.
Jordan broke free, burying his head in Jericho’s neck with a growling groan. “God. I need to go.”
“I know.” They’d been saying the same things for half an hour, and Jericho knew he needed to be the one to call an end to it or Jordan would be driving late into the night to get back to school. “And I want you to be safe. Get there safely, and then at the end of the year, come back safe to me.” He didn’t know where this unaccustomed confidence was coming from, but he gave his mouth free rein, letting it run away with him. “Because from where I sit, Jordan, you’re mine. I know I’m not very old, but I know how I feel. I’ve only got this year and two more, and I’ll be in college or working.”
“You’re not too young to know your own mind.” Jordan straightened, looking into Jericho’s face, his expression intent. “You’re not too young for me, period. Jericho, I’m willing to wait as long as you need me to. I’ll wait for you. You’re worth it, Jericho. So worth it. I’ll wait for you.” Jordan crowded closer as he spoke, their bodies pressed together as he dropped his head to claim another kiss Jericho willingly gave up.
Those words rang through Jericho’s head, not just that night, but through the upcoming weeks and months.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Trent
“Jakey.” Head resting on Jacob’s shoulder, Trent stared at the screen of the computer, his eyes fixed on the shifting image. The speakers went silent for a moment, then hissed and spat, and he tensed all over as he heard the rapid doubled thudding sound again. Reverently, he whispered, “Those are our babies.”
Jacob’s arm tightened around his shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough Trent knew he’d be sporting bruises later. He didn’t care.
Jaime squealed and rounded the desk, wrapping both of them in her arms. “So you went to the sonogram this morning? Do they know the sexes yet?” Jaime didn’t give either of them a chance to answer, interrupting herself as she kept jabbering. “Babies move around so much, and with two of them, I bet it’s harder yet. But just listen to those little ones. So strong. Jake, those are your babies. Those are yours and Trent’s babies. Did you tell them that Auntie Jaime loves them? Because she does. So much.” She was crying by the end, and Trent drew her in between himself and Jacob, bringing her into their embrace.
“They are.” Jacob’s voice held all the wonder he’d shown at the clinic earlier that day. “That sound is our little babies.”
After the deferment period ended, they’d terminated the contract with the California clinic, opting instead to go through one in Memphis. After looking at the choices, they’d wound up selecting the same clinic that had brought Jaime and Connor together, liking the vibe they got from the case handler. Faster than Trent had anticipated, they’d been matched with an egg donor and surrogate and, after a getting-to-know-you period, had decided to move forwards with the process.
After two failed IVF attempts, they’d gotten lucky with a third, and their surrogate—a sweet single mother Jacob said reminded him of Jaime—was five months pregnant with twins. Jericho had just started his junior year of high school, Jordan was in his final year of college—and just after the first of the year, they’d be bringing home two newborns, moving them into that little bedroom that Jacob had been right about; it was just right for a nursery.
They’d gone with the swirl method, mixing their semen and letting the randomness of fate determine the biological makeup of the child…children. He had to keep reminding himself that they were going to have two babies. It caught up to him at odd moments, and the fear was never far behind. But all he had to do was catch a glimpse of Jacob’s face as he talked about their children and see the awe, the pure love his husband already had for the babies, and the fear would ebb away.
“She’s twenty weeks.” Trent gave Jaime a squeeze. “We’ve got one of each. A little girl and a little boy.”
He winced at Jaime’s shriek and looked over her shoulder at Jacob, who was making the same face. “Oh my God. That’s perfect. That’s absolutely perfect.”
Trent stared at Jacob smiling wide, so much joy in his expression that Trent knew he’d never again question if they were doing the right thing.
“It absolutely is.”
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Jericho
He watched for the signal, and when the speaker patted the air with both palms, Jericho sat in a swish of polyester, the fabric bunching around his knees. The weight of the mortarboard on his head was unfamiliar, and he angled his neck only slightly to verify his random plucking at the gown was actually straightening the folds.
The next speaker droned on and on, and Jericho could feel himself losing focus. He blinked rapidly and straightened in the seat only to slump again immediately. If he’d had his way, he would have skipped the ceremony entirely, but as always, his uncles pulled the “we know better” card, and paired with Coach’s prod of “these are good memories to have,” Jericho had acquiesced. Hence his position right now on the inside aisle of a long row of chairs directly in front of the low stage built on the gymnasium floor.
To his direct left was Keith Carson, a boy he’d gotten to know fairly well over the years he’d been in the school, due to the alphabet and weekly assemblies. He glanced over to see Keith’s eyes were glazed, and he looked much as Jericho felt. When his friend’s head nodded sharply, he suppressed a snort of laughter, instead leaning close and calling his name. “Keith, don’t fall over, yeah?” Keith’s head shot up and he blinked, turning to look at Jeri
cho. “You awake, man?”
“Yeah.” The quiet response earned them a frown from the girl on Keith’s other side, Darreylle Carmel. Jericho and Keith ignored her hissed shush, and Jericho rolled his eyes, causing Keith to chuckle. “Thanks.”
Attention back on the stage, Jericho was surprised to see a different speaker had taken the place at the podium. He mentally consulted the program and realized that next would be the students, salutatorian and then valedictorian, and then the graduating seniors would walk the walk they’d been practicing for a week. And then—it’d be done.
And after years and months of waiting, he and Jordan would be together.
Chin up, he studied the line of adults in their own versions of the gowns the graduates wore. Attention reflectively directed to the speaker, they didn’t fidget or wiggle. No foot tapping for these honored attendees. His uncle Jake sat up there alongside Coach. As Jericho stared at them, Jake cut a glance at Jericho, offering him a small smile and a nod before turning back to the speaker. He didn’t know how Jake had pulled it off, but him being the one to hand Jericho his diploma mattered more than his uncle would ever know.
Uncle. He snorted. Jordan had hit it right so long ago when he’d likened their treatment of him to that of a father. Their relationships seemed to be ever-evolving, in good ways. These days, with the twins babbling about Papa and Dada, sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow. In the kitchen with Jake and the babies not two days ago, he’d called his uncle Papa and turned around to find Jake staring down into the sink with a stupidly wide smile on his face.
The babies had been a revelation. Something else he hadn’t expected to like, and now he couldn’t imagine life without them. Going away to school was going to kill him, and by the time they were barely a year old, he’d already dialed back his college selections from ones within a two- or three-hour radius of home to good old U of M right here in Memphis. Anything else was just too far. Jordan had already finished college and was lined up to start a paid position as a clerk at a law firm here. His plan was to earn money for a couple of years before he went to the next step of graduate school, with the goal of eventually sitting for his LSATs and the bar and becoming a lawyer. Something Jericho had learned about his boyfriend over the years was he made plans and stuck with them, working every detail until he got the most preferred outcome.
He knew if he looked over his shoulder, he’d see Trent wrangling little Charlotte and Jackson with help from Nate. He rolled his eyes. Trent hadn’t realized they’d named their babies after southern towns until after it was too late to make changes. The first time he’d caught Jake rocking little Jack while humming the tune to Jackson, Trent had officially lost his shit. Jack and Lottie were both sweet kids, and Jericho had spent more nights than he’d want to admit in the nursery, just listening to them breathe.
Applause rose around him, and he brought his hands together without much effort, not a golf clap but just one that wouldn’t even redden his palms.
The salutatorian’s speech was five minutes, max, and during the returned applause, the speakers were again shuffling across the stage, changing places in a choreographed round of musical chairs.
“I don’t have anything to tell you that you don’t already know.” Jericho looked up at the boy’s matter-of-fact tone. White knuckles gripping the edges of the podium seemed to make that delivery a lie. “You already know there’s no magic potion to make life easier. No wave of the wand that will smooth the way. Work, more work, and a little more work will take you much farther down the road than standing in the ditch and wishing upon a star. If you’re willing to put in the work, then you reap the rewards.”
Jericho’s head dipped as he studied his hands. Just from looking at them, no one would ever know that one had been far weaker than the other for a long time. Careful exercise had fixed the deficit, but it hadn’t been as easy as he would have liked. Talking to the counselor his uncles had insisted on, he’d made a comment about it being a metaphor for his life. The man didn’t disagree. Jericho had joked once that he wished he could drop his arm off at the gym and pick it up when it was toned and conditioned, like a batch of dry cleaning. Trent had stopped him in his tracks with a casual, “Gotta earn it to appreciate it.”
That, too, could be said about so much of his life, after he’d landed with his uncles.
They’d given their love and acceptance freely, but their respect he’d had to earn. He looked up at Jake again, surprised to find him staring down at Jericho, the expression on his face filled with a mixture of pride and sadness.
His dreams occasionally took him back to Knoxville. Back to the barn, to the hospital, to the house where Frank had left him for dead.
When he woke, sometimes it took a few moments to remember all that had happened from then to now. There’d been more than once he’d woken and gone to sit just outside Trent and Jake’s room, just to be close to them, a reminder that this was his life now.
Jake had found him one night, nearly tripped on him as he drowsily headed to the kitchen for a drink in the middle of the night. He hadn’t questioned anything, hadn’t demanded any kind of explanation, just slid down the wall next to Jericho until he was seated on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. Then Jake had talked about work, and the house, and Nate. He’d discussed the divisiveness of the HOA when it came to strains of grass seed, and how the HOA hadn’t been on his radar when they bought the house, or they might have picked a different place to live. Then Jericho heard the babies on the monitor, stirring and beginning that soft coo that meant they’d woken up sweetly. Jake had leaned over and bumped their shoulders together. “Come help me with the babies.”
And he had.
They’d spent an hour with the babies. Feeding, then changing, then rocking to sleep.
Sometime later, Jericho had climbed out of bed, aiming for the kitchen and an early breakfast. He’d found Jake asleep in the hallway, back propped against Jericho’s doorframe, legs stretched out across the opening, barring the entrance. Without asking, without knowing for sure, Jake had just wanted to ensure Jericho was okay.
And that, in a nutshell, summed up his uncles and his life with them.
The row of students beside Jericho stood, and he belatedly lurched to his feet, earning another scowl from Darreylle. He turned and followed Keith between the chairs, out alongside the bleachers, and in a slow, student-by-student advancement to the stage. He watched Keith take that final step up, saw him stride across the surface, and counted to ten like they’d been told.
On his second footfall up the steps, he saw Jake peer around the superintendent, his smile evident even in the tiny portion of his face Jericho could see. Hand out, Jericho greeted the administrator, then pivoted around him and found his uncle Jake there with his diploma. Jericho ignored his outstretched hand, shuffling close and wrapping his arms around Jake instead.
“You done good, son.” That whisper was everything.
Jericho pulled back, tears smearing his vision until Jake was just a blur. Something was shoved in his hand, and a steady grip on his shoulders steered him the direction he needed to go. He swiped at his eyes, quickly striking the tears from his face, and remembered to turn and look out into the audience. Trent stood in a sea of people, a child on each hip, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you, Uncle Trent.”
Jericho realized that shout had come from him when Trent smiled and shouted back, “I love you too, Jericho.”
Then he was down the steps and set to walk the circumference of the gymnasium to get back to his assigned place in the student seating.
Jericho had nearly caught up with Keith when someone stepped out in front of him.
It only took a moment to realize who it was.
The double dimples were out in force, and Jericho was pretty sure they’d eventually be the death of him.
Jordan wrapped one arm around his waist, his other hand going to the side of Jericho’s face, and he brought their lips to
gether in a hard, closemouthed kiss. “Proud of you.” Jordan’s thumb passed across Jericho’s bottom lip, one side to another and back again. “See you in a few minutes.”
Jericho nodded and released his hold on Jordan’s arms, letting him step backwards. Jordan gripped his hand for a moment, their fingers twining together like always. Arms stretched out between them, Jordan was ready to let go when Jericho changed his mind.
Hands clasped, fingers threaded together, Jericho walked up the aisle, persistently tugging at Jordan until he laughingly acquiesced, following along.
Jericho had already decided he wasn’t ever going to let go.
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Jake
Stretched out on the couch, he had just shoved a pillow under his head and relaxed when he heard noises on the baby monitor. He tensed, prepared to swing into action because Trent was taking a shower that would probably turn into a multi-chapter bath. That meant Jake was on baby duty, and he didn’t mind one bit. The noises subsided, leaving just the crooning murmur of the music box still playing in their room.
It had been a busy day, and Trent had outdone himself both with the plans for the party and the amount of stress he’d put on himself to get everything perfect. Jake knew Jericho wouldn’t have cared one way or the other—he took after Jake that way. Trent had fussed over the guest list and the timing of the party; since the entire graduating class threw parties over the course of the same weekend, he hadn’t wanted Jericho’s to overlap with too many other popular kids. Wanted Jericho to have the best possible experience.
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