by Aiden Bates
He watched as Brantley cradled Alaina to his chest. Alaina fussed a little, but then she settled and grabbed one of Brantley's fingers in her little hand. "Do you think she likes me?" Brantley asked, in a quiet voice.
Who doesn't? Allen kept those words to himself. Instead, he kept his plastered-on smile firmly in place. "She knows your voice," he said. "She's heard it before. It's hard to say how much she's processing, visually, but she's definitely heard your voice before. And she's not trying to run away yet, so there's that."
"Small favors." Brantley looked down at Alaina, who stared back up at him and gurgled. "I'm not sure what that means, but I'll take it as a win."
Brantley had to practice holding the baby a few more times before Sunday. By the time they went over to Allen's parents' condo, he'd even changed one diaper and participated in one feeding. Allen couldn't help but be proud.
Sunday turned out to be warm and sunny, but his parents' condo had central air that worked. That hadn't been the case when Allen had been living there. The condo had been new-built and the air conditioning had been "temperamental," as his mother liked to say, by which she meant it only worked if the day wasn't so hot the unit overheated. After Allen's brother had died they'd used some of his life insurance money to replace the air conditioner. No one who knew Tony would have objected. Tony hadn't ever stopped complaining about the AC in that house.
Janine, Jim, and the kids were there, too. Everyone came out to get a look at the new additions. Brantley got some attention, but Janine and her family had already met him. The kids were excited to see Dr. Brantley again, but mostly, everyone really just wanted to see the new baby.
Who could blame them?
Allen's father had something to say about her name, of course. "Of course you had to name her after yourself," he teased, wrapping an arm around Allen's shoulders. "You couldn't have just named her after your old man?"
Brantley stared in naked shock at Jeff Frye's dry delivery, but Allen just laughed. "I think she's got enough going on in her life without having to explain to everyone why her name is Jeff, Dad." He took her out of her bucket carrier and cradled her to himself. "I didn't name her, actually. The nurses in the NICU did, once they realized her mother wasn't going to be able to name her. Mom, Dad, this is Brantley."
Brantley shook their hands. Dad was willing enough to just greet him and move on. Dad was like that. He had a lot of confidence in Allen's ability to choose a partner that suited him, or maybe he just didn't care. Mom was more suspicious. She and Janine kept a close eye on Brantley, and Allen sweated.
Brantley didn't say anything about the scrutiny. He couldn't have not been aware of it. He just didn't say anything. He went outside with Harper and Ethan instead. The siblings, who would normally squabble over toys and snacks, fell under his spell immediately and went blithely out in harmony.
"Well, I'll say this much for him." Janine came over to Allen with a glass of Chianti, which she pushed into his hand. "He's got my kids wrapped around his little finger."
"Tell me the truth, Allen. Are you two really together or is this an ICE thing?" Mom turned to Allen and wagged her finger at him. "You know better than to defraud the government, Allen!"
Allen wiped at a little bit of drool on Alaina's face. "Why would you say it’s an ICE thing?"
"Because you never even mentioned him until you were suddenly living together." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't fool me, kiddo. I know all your tells."
Allen sighed. "Look. We weren't seeing each other all that seriously. It's a little uncomfortable. In Jamaica, you can get killed for being gay. He's been beat up for it, back when he was a kid. That's why they gave him asylum here in the first place. He still has a hard time being open about being involved with someone. So now, at this late date, they want to send him back because he's not open enough about the people he's with."
Mom's lip curled. "So you're putting on a show?"
Allen sighed. "No. We are together. We're just moving along a little—a lot—faster than we'd like. Than we would have, you know, if we hadn't been steamrolled by ICE. But yes, we are a couple. He's a nice guy. Sadie likes him."
"Ugh, that dog." Mom shook her head, but laughed a little. "How does she like the baby? Sometimes they can be a little territorial."
"She tried to give Alaina her favorite toy." He breathed a sigh of relief when Mom turned her attention away from the topic of Brantley. He knew it would wander back, but if he could keep her from focusing on him too often, they'd probably get out of this safely.
The fact that she'd brought up ICE right away strongly suggested that she'd gotten a visit from Gottlieb or Parris. That didn't bode well.
Alaina, thankfully, provided plenty of entertainment for the adults. Everyone except Allen's dad, who'd grown up in a time when men weren't expected to do much heavy lifting where their children were concerned, wanted a turn holding her. Allen wasn't sure he liked the idea of passing her around like a bottle of whiskey, but this was her family, too. They deserved chance to hold her, and since no one had any colds or illness or anything and everyone washed their hands, he was willing to let them do it.
Both Brantley and Dad took pictures of it all. That gave them the chance to bond over cameras and photography, which made Allen and Mom roll their eyes and get out of the way. Neither one of them could follow the conversation, and neither one of them cared to try.
The meal wasn't fancy. It was hard to do fancy with kids involved. They just did burgers, dogs, and spiedies, with some salad for a vegetable. The food wasn't supposed to be the focus. Alaina was the center of attention, and Brantley of course, in a more subtle way.
Since Brantley was the only real guest who could speak, Allen's good luck with distracting his mother couldn't last forever. "So, Brantley. Allen tells me you're from Jamaica."
"Yes, ma'am. From Mandeville."
"I see." She nodded. "Have you been back at all?"
"No, ma'am." Brantley gripped his fork a little more tightly and glanced at Harper, who'd snagged the seat beside him. "It's not exactly a friendly place for people like me, so I don't have the chance to go back. I do talk to my mother and father on the phone, though. I'd like to get them set up with Skype or something like that, but my mother isn't the most tech-savvy person in the world. I sometimes think I'm lucky she gets her email to work."
"Really? What does she do there, that she can get away without using email?" Mom leaned forward.
"She's a teacher. She teaches history. My father is an English professor at the university there, but he's still a bit of a Luddite." Brantley chuckled.
"Do they know you're living with Allen?" Janine stared directly at Brantley. Allen kicked her under the table.
"Oh, no. They know I'm gay, of course, but they don't want to know any more. They support me, of course, but they're afraid to know details." He glanced at Harper again, and then over at Ethan. "Maybe someday it will be different, but hearts and minds don't change overnight. It would be nice if they could come up here to visit. I think they'd like to see Syracuse. It's a beautiful city and I'm proud to call it my home now. Plus, I think they'd be delighted to meet Allen and Alaina." He grinned that easy, beautiful grin of his that probably revived corpses down in the morgue.
His grin didn't seem to cut him much slack with Janine. "That sounds like a fun trip. 'Hi, mom. Hi, dad. Meet the new boyfriend and baby you knew nothing about! Surprise!"
"Mom!" Harper snapped, putting her burger down. "Don't be a jerk!"
Brantley smiled down at his little defender. "It's okay, Harper. Your mom is trying to watch out for her little brother. That's her job, right? You'd do the same thing if there was someone you didn't know, didn't trust, hanging around Ethan."
Harper stuck her tongue out at Ethan. "I'd send Ethan off to Utica."
"I'd send Harper to Rochester!" Ethan wasn't about to be outdone.
"Nobody's sending anyone out of Onondaga County," Jim announced, the first time he'd really spo
ken all day. "Both of you kids settle back and eat your dinner." He winked at Brantley. "And Janine? Relax, babe. Allen's a grownup."
Janine glowered at her husband, but said nothing else.
Eventually, the meal ended. Brantley took the kids outside to play again, and Janine went to cuddle Alaina for a little while. Allen went to help his mother with the dishes, and she leaned over to him. "Well, I'll say this much for him. At least he's smart."
***
Brantley had to physically escort Allen from the house on Monday. "Why didn't you take family leave like a normal adopter?" he asked, as he guided Allen to the car. He faked a smile for the dark-skinned girl who was watching Alaina during the day and waved before getting into the car himself. He hadn't bothered to remember her name. This whole nanny thing didn't involve him.
If he paid attention, he'd have to ask things like, Were those braids real? If they were extensions, how likely were they to come off if Alaina pulled on them? Had she ever held a baby in her life? What about those earrings? Would she get mad and shake the baby if the baby pulled on an earring?
Those were stupid questions. Allen knew the nursing student, and knew she knew what she was doing. And maybe Brantley should learn more about extensions before making judgments about them, because plenty of people had them without risking their babies. And maybe he should worry about his own problems instead of fretting about something Allen had so well in hand, that didn't involve him.
"I've never had so much trouble backing away from one before." Allen pouted for a moment, and then he pulled himself together. He put his seatbelt on and stared out the windshield. "Sorry. I've fostered before, but it was always in temporary, emergency situations. Alaina is the first one I've brought home with the intention of keeping her. I didn't expect to have this much trouble leaving her with Alicia."
Brantley sighed. "Really?"
"Really." Allen didn't look at Brantley as Brantley pulled out onto the road. "I'm absolutely in love with her. You're right. I should have taken family leave. But I didn't, and here we are."
Brantley squirmed. "I'm sure you could talk them into something, right?" He changed lanes. "You're their star employee right now. They'll be willing to cut you some slack."
"My bet is on no." Allen sighed. "They're good people, but we're kind of short handed right now, and we've got an unusually high volume. There aren't a lot of practitioners in the area who can handle omegas. Sure, any doctor or midwife can technically handle an omega, assuming things don't go sideways at all. And things are a lot more likely to go sideways when you've got a practitioner who can't tell if there's a problem brewing that could be avoided with a little bit of assistance at the right time. So, no."
Brantley shook his head. "What about when you do have kids of your own, though? You're going to have to take leave then, if only to recover."
Allen snorted. "Dude. I'm in my thirties and still single. Alaina's it for me, and that's okay. She's perfect. I might be a little… down, I guess, that I'm not spending the time with her that I should right now. But we've got a pretty strong bond, and it will be enough." He forced a small smile. "It will have to be, right?"
Brantley frowned and gripped the steering wheel a little harder. "That seems a little bleak, doesn't it?"
Allen tilted his head. "Does it? I've got a family who loves me and who will stick up for me against anyone, for any reason. I've got a beautiful baby girl who I adore. I've got good friends. I've got my dog. I've got a home of my own, I've got an awesome career. I'm healthy. Would it be nice to have someone to share it with, for real? Absolutely. But I'm not, like, pining away or anything like that. I'm a pretty lucky guy, all things considered."
Brantley relaxed his grip. "I guess I shouldn't have thought of it that way." He grinned. "You're a pretty smart guy, for someone who shares the couch with a dog."
Allen grinned and settled into his seat. "I'm telling you, Brantley, she's a pretty awesome dog."
"She still rolls in the dirt, Allen. Maybe I should get you a couple of goats. You could share the couch with them, too," he teased.
"Nah. I don't think Sadie would take kindly to goats, but we could take her to a farm and see. I mean she's pretty smart." Now it was Allen's turn to tease, turning his face to grin impudently at Brantley.
Brantley would have given almost anything to kiss that grin off Allen's face. But he was driving, and they were in public, and somehow a conversation about goats just didn't seem like mood-setting material.
They got to the hospital and went their separate ways. Brantley found, scattered among the messages sent by various hospital departments, several messages from Isabel Frye's Silver Oak account with photographic attachments. He sat back and smiled before opening them. She might not like him, but she'd sent him plenty of pictures on her husband's behalf.
The pictures were all from yesterday's cookout. Some of them were of Allen and Alaina, and they were beautiful. Allen's father, Jeff, was a gifted photographer. He should consider selling some of his work, or at least exhibiting it. Seeing Allen with Alaina in some of these poses wrenched his very soul.
There were other pictures, of course. Some were of Allen with his sister or mother. Others, though, were of Brantley. Brantley hadn't noticed Jeff as he played with Harper and Ethan, and he hadn't noticed Jeff when he'd been holding Alaina himself either.
There was one picture that simply took his breath away. Either Brantley was handing Alaina back to Allen, or Allen was handing the baby off to Brantley, but she was between them. Neither of the men was looking at the camera. They only had eyes for each other. Their eyes met over Alaina's tiny face, and they were both smiling. They looked so real, and so in love, that Brantley wanted to cry.
Maybe Allen wasn't the only one who wanted someone to share his life with, for real. Maybe Brantley hadn't ever let himself feel it before now.
He forwarded a copy to Allen. I had a different picture I was going to make my desktop, but this one is better.
Allen took a little while to respond, which probably meant he was dealing with something unpleasant. When he did, though, it was just in a row of heart emojis. Brantley wasn't a big "emoji" guy, but sometimes words just wouldn't cut it.
He did his rounds and met with some new patients. Most of his patients were making good progress. Some were not, and he had appointments with two patients whose cancers had returned after years in remission. One, in particular, was a heartbreaking recurrence of ovarian cancer in a woman only a couple of years older than Brantley himself. Her prognosis, based on scans, wasn't good, and he expected her to choose hospice care.
She didn't. She knew what she was in for, and so did her family, but she wanted to fight. It was part of her religious belief, she said, and she was going to dig in and fight harder.
He wasn't sure that was the sanest course of action, but he would stay right there by her side for as long as his own situation allowed it. He even waived as much of his own fees as hospital rules would allow. Her family didn't have a lot of money, and they'd almost bankrupted themselves the last time. He might not be able to do more than a drop in the bucket, but he'd do what he could.
That appointment was one of the last in the day, and he quietly gave thanks to whoever had made up his schedule. Having to see Julie go through all of that pain and misery again, with such a poor prognosis, just sucked the life right out of him. Of course, it could only be worse for Julie, or her family. He shouldn't think so much of himself.
The door to his office creaked open. "Why Dr. Powell. You look tired. Is the baby keeping you up all night?"
Agent Gottlieb slid into Brantley's office, that same curl to his lip that always defined his expression. Part of Brantley wondered if it was a physiological thing, like a birth defect or a scar. The rest of him didn't have time to worry about that. It was too busy panicking.
"You can't be here," he said, in as calm a voice as he could manage. "You're not allowed to be here without my attorney present."
"Sure I am. We're old friends, Dr. Powell. I don't need some lawyer to come and run interference between me and my buddy." Gottlieb closed the door behind him. "Only guilty people ask for their lawyers, Powell. So what exactly do you have to hide, that's making you ask for a lawyer?"
Brantley flared his nostrils in anger. "I'm not asking. I'm demanding. That routine might work on poorly educated migrant workers who don't know their rights, but I know mine. And I know you don't have the right to be here without my lawyer being present."
"On the contrary. I have an appointment. I'm on your goddamn calendar. I might be on there as Michael Maus, but I have an appointment. Check."
Brantley did check the calendar. Just as Gottlieb had said, there was a Michael Maus on the calendar. Brantley set his jaw. Were his tax dollars truly going toward this type of harassment? He activated the web cam on top of his computer and set it to record, and then he sent a message to both Allen and to Gupta informing them of the situation.
