Instant Family (Silver Oak Medical Center Book 4)

by Aiden Bates

  He couldn't really resent the Royals, or Brantley for taking care of them. They'd all just lost someone important. Allen knew he should tell Brantley about his own baby, but he couldn't bear to bring it up right now. He didn't want to bring his own petty concerns into play when a man had just been murdered, for crying out loud. He had nine months to find a way to tell Brantley, assuming things went their way with the courts.

  He could wait.

  He tried not to let fantasy creep into his thoughts about it. If he let himself sit around and come up with a pretty picture about raising the baby with Brantley, it would just hurt more when it didn't happen. He needed to keep his perspective. Life wasn't a fairy tale. People didn't pair off to deceive government agents and then wind up staying together. Even romance itself seemed like something from fiction sometimes.

  He was, and would be, grateful for what he had.

  Brantley's discovery of that article about his childhood sweetheart had been a real godsend. Gupta dropped by the next evening to talk about what it meant for them, and it could only be good things. "It proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you, Brantley, are in danger for your life if you were to return to Jamaica even for a visit. You cannot go back there, and US law prohibits deporting someone someplace that is unsafe."

  Brantley's whole body relaxed. Allen smiled, although inside he was shattering. It wasn't about him. "That's fantastic!"

  "It's not a slam dunk yet." Gupta held up one of his slender hands. "I wouldn't go packing up your things yet, Brantley. I forwarded this to Gottlieb's supervisor and to a federal judge, and we have a hearing first thing next week. Keep your fingers crossed."

  They did keep their fingers crossed. They stayed in for most of the weekend. Ordinarily they would have made the effort to go out at least once, just to be seen, but Allen couldn't make himself do it this time. He just wanted to hide. And Brantley was too jittery to be trusted behind the wheel of a car.

  "What do you think's going to happen?" he asked, on Sunday night.

  "I have no idea." Allen shook his head. "I think I deliver babies. I don't try law cases. Plus, I can't see why they would be putting us through all of this anyway. You. I can't see why they would be putting you through all of this." He bit his tongue. There was no "us." "So I guess I'm a bad judge."

  Brantley sighed. "I just— hate having it hanging over me. If I could deal with it, I could just live my life. I could go visit Aaron and the kids. I could think about new patients or not. I could exhale."

  "Yeah." Allen looked aside. "I hear that. It'll be good to have an answer, one way or another." He swallowed, hard. He might not get another chance to say this. "Whatever happens, I want you to know I don't regret it. Some things have been harder than others, I guess, but it's been good. You're a good man. You're the best of men. I'd say you're the best man I've dated, or not dated, and I don't regret a thing."

  Brantley's eyes softened. "Thank you, Allen. That means a lot."

  Allen ran up to bed, before he could have to hear anything about how he was a "good guy, but…"

  Alicia showed up early the next day. Allen and Brantley wore their best suits for court, and drove in together. Allen knew it wasn't just the baby inside him making him queasy. They didn't speak. Allen didn't trust himself to. Maybe Brantley didn't, either. Maybe he just didn't have anything else to say.

  They found Gupta, and found seats in the courtroom to wait for their turn. They were the first to have their hearing, but that didn't mean they were ready to start. Allen fidgeted the whole time. He could see Gottlieb, with his permanently curled lip, and Parris, her bulletproof vest taking the place of any suit or sport coat, on the other side of the courtroom.

  Parris waved, a nasty grin splitting her face.

  "Ignore them," Gupta advised. "They're trying to make you nervous. They're forgetting that you're not the one getting a hearing here."

  "Aren't they the ones who supposedly work for ICE?" Allen glanced over at them again, but renewed his efforts to sit still.

  Gupta snorted. "Their strategy is to get Brantley so worried about you that he screws up. I don't think that's going to be very effective for them, but whatever."

  Brantley's jaw tightened, and his beautiful eyes narrowed. Allen lowered his gaze and focused on a knot in the wood on the bench in front of him.

  The judge walked in, everyone rose, and everyone sat down again. It was a lot like being at church. Then the judge called the first case, ICE v Powell. Gottlieb walked up to one of the podiums, the one on the left side of the courtroom. Brantley and Gupta walked up to the one on the right, and Allen was alone.

  The judge, an older white woman with curly brown hair, glanced between the sides. "All right. I've had a chance to review some of the additional documentation provided regarding this case. The basics of the case are this. Upon review, Dr. Powell's asylum was revoked because Agent Gottlieb determined he was not in fact homosexual, and because Jamaica no longer officially persecutes homosexuality. Is this correct?"

  "Yes, your honor." Gottlieb sneered. He always sneered.

  "And ICE further alleges that Dr. Powell has entered into a false relationship with a man in order to deceive the authorities and remain in the country." She looked up through her glasses. "Is this the case?"

  "It is, Your Honor." Gottlieb wrinkled his nose at her. "Which is a felony in and of itself."

  "It would be a felony in and of itself, Agent, if it were true." The judge turned to Gupta. "Counselor, you've appealed the decision."

  "We have." He gave a thin smile. "Proof of Dr. Powell's sexuality and of the persecution he would face, because of his sexuality, was delivered to you last week."

  "Ah yes. The matter of Mr. Royal." She cringed. "That's heartbreaking business. I understand he leaves behind some children."

  Brantley cleared his throat. "Yes, Your Honor. Two. And a husband. I've spoken with the husband, Aaron."

  "I certainly can't deny that you'd face some serious threats if you were repatriated to Jamaica." She lifted her eyebrows and looked away from something on the bench, possibly the article Brantley had sent. "Terrifying stuff. Dr. Powell, do you identify as homosexual?"

  "I do." Brantley held his head high.

  "Why is it so difficult for these agents to accept that you are gay?" She took off her glasses and looked at him.

  Brantley sighed. "Your honor, after having been beaten severely for being caught with a man, it was difficult to be public with my affections. I haven't lied about it when people asked, but I couldn't shake the impression that someone was hiding just around the corner with a cricket bat waiting to finish the job. I still feel that way."

  "But that doesn't seem to bother your current boyfriend." She glanced at her notes again. "Mr. Frye?"

  Allen rose on shaky legs.

  "Come on up here, Mr. Frye."

  Allen walked up. He didn't insist she acknowledge his PhD.

  "Mr. Frye. You're Dr. Powell's current boyfriend, but you haven't been together very long. In fact, you moved in together after a few short months. And you're not bothered by his apparent inability to perform public displays of affection. Can you explain why?"

  Allen took a deep breath. They hadn't fooled anyone.

  "We were seeing one another, and it wasn't all that serious. I'm in my thirties, your honor. I kind of feel like the time for serious is past, if you know what I mean." He managed a wry grin. She didn't grin back, but he pressed on. "When I found out that ICE wanted to deport him, because he wasn't 'gay enough', whatever that means, I told him we had to be more obvious. It was one thing when it was just a fling, for fun. When it was a matter of life and death, we had to move outside of our comfort zone."

  "Hmm." She looked at him, and it felt like she was looking right through him. God, he was going to jail. "And moving in with him?"

  "Something Agents Gottlieb and Parris literally pushed us into. It's not something I'd do on such short acquaintance with anyone, and it's not something that was on
my radar with him at all. Like I said, we weren't thinking of anything serious at all. But like I said, it was a matter of life and death." He forced himself to laugh a little. "And to be honest, it hasn't been bad at all. I mean he made me learn to cook, which I've resisted kicking and screaming for thirty something years, but other than that it's been pretty good."

  A little titter ran around the courtroom. Even the judge cracked a grin at that one.

  "Agents, how do you respond to that one?"

  Gottlieb rolled his eyes. "How much has Powell been paying him for it?"

  Allen lost his temper and snapped his head to the left. "He hasn't been paying me a dime, you pervert. I hope you like those sheets we sent."

  "Sheets?" The judge raised her eyebrows.

  Gupta covered his face with his hands.

  Allen pointed at Gottlieb. "They admitted they went through our home without a warrant. And then they complained about our sleeping arrangements. Sure, we had separate bedrooms. Three months together, a new baby in the house, you think we're going to be sharing one bedroom? No. Sorry. They can badger us into living together but they can't rush the relationship. They complained because I actually wash my sheets. Said it was proof the relationship was fake, when I keep a clean house and they didn't have a warrant in the first place. So the next time we had sex, we saved the sheets and sent them to him. Physical evidence."

  The judge laughed out loud. "Is this true, Agent Gottlieb?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "You entered their home without a warrant. You've consistently violated their right to counsel, you harassed Mr. Frye's family and goaded his father into a heart attack. I'm recommending you face disciplinary action. But I do find in favor of Dr. Powell. His grant of asylum is reinstated. You're free to go, Dr. Powell. Your passport will be returned."

  The crowd, mostly immigrants appealing their own deportation orders, erupted into applause.

  The judge banged her gavel, and the case was closed. Brantley and Gupta hugged, and Allen shuffled out into the hallway.

  Gupta and Brantley followed him out into the parking lot. "Looks like everything's in order," Gupta told them, and shook hands with Allen. "Congratulations. You're free men. Brantley, you're now free to go wherever you want and do whatever you want. I'm sure you'll be glad to get back into your own space soon, huh?" He clapped Brantley on the shoulder.

  Brantley scratched behind his ear. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that will be, uh, fine..."

  Allen slid into the car and waited for Brantley to finish talking to Gupta. Tears welled up in his eyes, so he closed them. He'd known Brantley would leave, but it still hurt. If he thought about it rationally, he was probably having a stronger reaction because of pregnancy hormones. Well, whatever.

  Tell him, idiot. It was a little voice in the back of his head, one that sounded an awful lot like Carter. This is your last chance.

  Except… this wasn't the right time. Brantley had the chance to move on with his life. He'd been trapped with Allen, with all of Allen's family drama and Allen's foibles, for weeks. He'd even had to sleep with Allen. It would only hurt him to think he was free and now find out he was stuck with Allen forever, even on the limited basis that came with visitation rights.

  Brantley slid behind the wheel. It was Allen's car, but Brantley had his own key now. They were going to have so much to untangle. Of course, they could just ignore it. They would only have things to untangle if that’s what they chose. Brantley could just walk away with the keys to Allen's car, and Allen's house, and it wouldn't mean a thing. Allen would still never see him again.

  "Are you okay?" Brantley wiped away some of Allen's tears with his thumb. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry this much."

  Allen took a deep breath. "I'm fine," he lied. "I'm fine. Just—it's a lot. I'm a little overwhelmed, I guess. Let's just go home. Er, back to my place, now. I suppose."

  Brantley looked down for a moment. "Allen, I—" He looked back at the courthouse. "This whole thing, you've taught me a lot. You've made me a better man. You've made me a better partner, a better lover." He turned on the car, so the air conditioner could start running. "It had been a long time since I'd been around family, of any kind. You taught me how to be part of a family again. Thank you."

  Allen's heart was being ripped out, and it wasn't even cruelly meant. He couldn't lash out, he couldn't get angry, because Brantley wasn't trying to hurt him. He was thanking him, for crying out loud. "Thank you. The past few weeks have been incredible, Brantley. And I hope we'll keep in touch. I know we wouldn't have met, if it weren't for this, and I know it was a terrible situation for you. But I'm just selfish enough to be glad it happened, just so I had the pleasure of meeting you."

  Brantley chuckled. He blinked a few times. "I'm glad we met too, Allen." He put the car in gear and headed back out toward East Syracuse.

  Allen watched the scenery go by. It was easier than looking at Brantley. He needed to get used to not seeing him around anymore. It's not a change. It's just going back to the way things were before.

  ***

  Brantley spent his first night of freedom back in his own townhouse. It was still in decent shape. He needed to dust, but other than that, it didn't feel like he'd been away for very long at all. He supposed that technically he hadn't. He'd only lived with Allen for a few weeks.

  A few weeks of Paradise, even if he hadn't recognized it as such at the time.

  He went through the house and took care of the dusting. He ran out to the grocery store and bought food, glorious fresh food, to fill his refrigerator. It was only when he was unpacking the groceries that he realized he'd bought enough groceries for two. And baby formula. And dog food.

  He sent a text to Allen, laughing at himself. Allen took two hours to respond.

  That didn't sit well with him. He was used to hearing from Allen right away, and it wasn't lost on him that Allen had seemed upset when they left the courthouse. He wanted to run back up to the East Syracuse house and check on him, but he held back.

  If Allen had wanted him around, he would have told him so. He wouldn't have changed his description of the townhouse from "home" to "my place, now." He wouldn't have said, "I hope we'll stay in touch." He would have just said, "Stay." Brantley was where he belonged, and that was all there was to it.

  When Allen did finally reply, he sent a laughing emoji. I'll have someone come to Oncology tomorrow and pick up the formula, if you don't want to donate it to a food bank or something. I think Luke's brothers could probably use the food at the shelter, if you don't want to get a dog of your own.

  Brantley blinked at his phone. Did Allen just not want to see him? Whatever happened to "I hope we'll stay in touch?" Maybe he had a busy day at work planned. Maybe, like Allen had said in the car, it was just a lot for him right now. Brantley shouldn't read into everything. He didn't have the knowledge.

  He'd broken up with guys before. He'd been dumped before, but it had always been for the same reasons. It had been because Brantley's commitment had been lacking. It had always been because Brantley wasn't willing to move forward, wasn't able to go ahead and be the man his lovers needed. He wasn't able to move in with them, demonstrate his love. He hadn't loved them enough, except Fabian.

  Allen was different. Brantley couldn't even say for sure why they were breaking up. He couldn't point to any of his own behavior and say, "This is what I did wrong," or, "This is why I didn't love Allen enough." On the contrary, he loved Allen too much. Maybe Allen just couldn't love him enough.

  He went to sleep in his big, empty bed, but he couldn't sleep well. He tossed and turned, looking for another warm body. Allen wasn't at his right side, and the dog wasn't at his feet. When he'd first moved in with Allen, he thought it was ridiculous to let the dog sleep in the bed with a human. Now he felt like he was living in a mausoleum.

  He woke every time Alaina should have woken up. If he texted Allen right now, he knew Allen would be awake. But maybe Allen wouldn't reply to him. For whatever reason, All
en was distancing himself from Brantley.

  The Oncology department threw a party the next day, complete with cake. Brantley appreciated the gesture, even if he couldn't quite manage to feel like celebrating. Yes, he'd won his case. He was a free man, allowed to be an American once again. He felt like he'd lost everything else.

  Luke Delancey stopped by in the afternoon. Luke was usually a kind of placid guy, who went with the flow. Today, his face was like a thundercloud. "I've come to pick up some formula and some dog food?"

  Brantley jumped. He'd been staring off into space, thinking about Allen. "Right." He sighed. "It's right over here. Stupid of me, I guess. Here." He grabbed the giant bag of food. "I can carry it up to his office, if you'd like."

  "He wouldn't have sent someone else down here if he wanted you going up there, Brantley." Luke pressed his lips together. "How could you?"