by J. P. Comeau
I had never thought the day would come when I would watch an animal of any kind cavort around my spotless mansion. But lo and behold, on Bree’s third birthday, a puppy jumped out of a box with a bow tied around its collar. Bree shrieked with excitement, and the two young creatures explored the house together. Elena giggled and took a picture to post on Facebook when I ran after them playfully.
“You are such a pushover,” Elena commented. She had made it a point not to try and convince me Bree needed a dog for her birthday. Since she was still little, we would have to take care of the puppy. Although we could get Bree to help us to a point - using the dog as a means to begin training her about responsibilities. Elena had anticipated the extra amount of work this would cause us both, and she hadn’t been willing to take Bree’s side on this one, rather remaining a neutral party until I made up my mind.
“Only for you and Bree,” I argued. Elena knew that I would have caved then and there if she had used her womanly ways to influence me. But Elena didn’t use my love for her like that.
Instead, Elena used our love to get cuddles at night, and she used it sometimes to get me to make breakfast in the morning after we had been up late, doing things in the privacy of our master bedroom. And sometimes, she used it to convince me to put down my laptop when I tried to work from home too much on my days off.
She never used it to push me into anything I might not really want to do or might inconvenience me. Elena didn’t manipulate and lie like so many of the women in my life had before her.
As I succinctly put it one night in January when it was freezing outside, and the wind howled around the mansion, while we cuddled warmly on the couch: “Where were you my whole life?”
She didn’t answer the question, and I didn’t push for one. It didn’t matter, because she was here now. Elena and her daughter made me the happiest man alive, and all I wanted to do was give that back to them twofold.
Then, one day, Elena came to me when I was shaving in the bathroom. She wordlessly handed me a plastic bag with two…thermometers?
Oh, no. No, no, no. Definitely not thermometers, unless someone had invented a thermometer that told you when you were going to be a father. Elena had shrieked when I picked her up and swan her around. “You’ve just made me the happiest guy on the planet!”
I had always wanted Elena to quit her job so she could have all the time she wanted with Bree, and she finally agreed shortly after learning that our family was about to increase in size. She liked to send me pictures of her growing belly and Bree playing while I was in Manhattan at work, reminding me of what I had to look forward to when I got home.
One day in the late spring when Elena’s baby bump had just become very noticeable, Elena, Bree and I were on Cooper’s beach – or our backyard - however you chose to look at it. The ocean wasn’t yet warm enough to swim in, but even chilly sand could make the perfect sandcastle. Armed with an assortment of buckets and shovels, Elena and I worked with Bree to build a castle any princess would be proud of.
I straightened, my back cracking as I admired our handiwork. “Beautiful,” I proclaimed, my eyes on the single sagging, cone-shaped roof.
“Amazing,” Elena added, hiding a smile at the dissolving ramparts.
“Butterflies!” Bree shouted excitedly, pointing at the sandy butterflies she had crafted from a mold.
“Butterflies,” Elena and I agreed at the same time.
“Let’s make a castle to fight the other castle!” Bree grabbed a handful of buckets and carried them to new, untapped sands a little further down the beach.
The butterflies set in sand came to life and found a home in my belly. “Elena.” I caught her hand as she started after Bree.
“Yes?” The sun lit her inquisitive eyes.
I brushed sand off her palms with my thumbs. “I, um…” Come on, I commanded myself sternly. This isn’t like you. When I wanted something, I asked for it. When I felt a certain way, I talked about it. Feelings didn’t scare me. They never had, least of all with Elena. “Last year, I made a mistake. I should have asked you to move in with me right away, instead of letting you go back to Montauk.”
“Riker, you didn’t make a mistake. I don’t think either of us was ready.” Her voice, usually so strong and confident, ended in the slightest of questions.
“I was. And I think you were. But that’s in the past now, and it’s not my point. The point is that I love you so much, and I never want to be separated from you again.”
“We won’t be.” Her sun-warmed, scent-rich hair flowed about my shoulders as she laid her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around me. “We live together now, remember?”
Elena was right as always, but I still hadn’t come around to my point. That’s fine, I realized suddenly, the sun warming my skin right through to my heart. My heart skipped and jumped nervously, but I didn’t feel a speck of impatience or real worry. I could stand here in front of Elena, one hand in my pocket, relaxed and happy just to be near her. This moment had been inevitable from the day I met this beautiful, fiery redhead right here on this beach, and I didn’t need to rush things.
Not that I wasn’t excited, of course. This was a big moment in our lives for a thousand reasons.
“I know we live together, but…that’s not enough for me. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours. I want us to live together forever with Bree. I want Bree to have a little brother or sister… like a real family should.” The sand pillowed my knee as I dropped out of Elena’s embrace. Her hands ended up on my shoulders, feeling every movement as I went for my pocket, and I could feel them tighten with realization when I pulled out the small wooden box.
She stepped back as I pulled back the hinged lid, revealing a knotted silver band with a glittering diamond in the center. “Will you make the happiest man alive just a little happier and marry me?”
“Riker!” Never before had my name been called with such happiness, laughter and tears, and I knew no one would ever say it that way again. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Elena dropped to her knees too, trapping my hand and the ring between us in a hug that threatened to crush the shoulders I had been working out for years.
“I think you’re supposed to let me put the ring on,” I managed after a moment, my lungs crying for the oxygen to waft the wings of the now-calm butterflies.
Beaming, Elena drew back and presented her hand. I slid on the ring, admiring the perfect fit and the slender fingers of the woman who wore it.
“What’s that?” Bree asked, reaching a small, curious hand toward the shiny thing on her mom’s finger.
“The start to our new lives, Honey.”
Bree didn’t understand, but my eyes met Elena’s over the child’s curly hair. We did, and, eventually so would Bree.
Epilogue
In the years since Bree, I had forgotten two things about childbirth.
One, it hurt a lot. I didn’t know how I had forgotten that. Two, every second of discomfort was worth the feeling of holding a tiny, newborn life in your arms.
I cradled my second child to my chest, supporting his head in the crook of my arm and letting him hold one of my fingers while I marveled at how tiny his own were. “Oh, look at him,” I whispered, afraid any disturbance would break my baby boy’s silence and turn his contemplation of this strange new place into tearless bawling. “He’s so beautiful.”
Riker’s arms tenderly squeezed me, and the broad chest I leaned my exhausted body against breathed regularly in and out, lending me strength. “Handsome. He’s handsome.”
Too tired and content to argue with Riker’s silliness, I eyed the cup of water on the bedside stand longingly. “Here, you hold him for a little while, Dad.”
Our baby looked even tinier in Riker’s bulging arms, but I knew he was safer there than anywhere else in the world. Bree had given Riker a taste of fatherhood, and if I was a lioness, Riker was my lion, and he would do anything to protect our children and me. “What should we name him, Mrs. Riker?” my husban
d asked.
Before our early summer wedding on the beach, we had decided against learning our baby’s gender; opting for a surprise at birth instead. Honestly, we had been so busy planning the wedding, decorating the baby’s room along with taking care of Bree, and me - although I hated to admit it - we didn’t have much time to think about names.
“Hm…why don’t we name him after you, Riker? You have that lovely name right at the beginning of your birth certificate, and you don’t use it. Let’s give it to our son. Jason.”
A slow smile spread across Riker’s face. “Jason. Sure, I like that. But, that was my father’s and grandfather’s name too… as you know. So, let’s call him Jay. Our son…. our Jay-son.” I nodded and grinned my approval. Riker hugged his baby boy to his chest ever so gently.
So it was decided. A few days later, we took Jay home. The ease with which we settled into a routine surprised us both. Me more so than Riker because I had experience with Bree’s infancy, and Riker had never raised a child. But Riker did more than his fair share of work. He flew home some weekdays to be with us and help me out, then flew back to Manhattan late at night. I knew he often went to work tired, but I could never argue when he said he just wanted to help me. And I was pleased Riker didn’t want to miss out on this precious time of getting to know his son while he was an infant. Babies grew so fast.
Still, no lack of sleep could keep the fire of love from gripping our hearts, and we had so much love to share. Bree was fascinated by her little brother, and I had the feeling that she was going to be a great big sister.
A week or so after Jay’s birth, Riker’s two friends, Zeke and Nate, came to visit. I had met them both when Riker had taken me for a date at his exclusive club, and I wasn’t surprised when the doorbell rang and the two entered with flowers and a couple of gift-wrapped boxes.
Now that I could drink again, we could all sit in the living room, taking turns passing Jay around and rocking him while we talked. “Riker, you have to come to the club this Thursday. Guys’ night out, no women allowed. Even wives,” Zeke joked. “Seriously, it’s been way too long since we had a poker night.”
“I know, I know.” Riker looked to me, and I smiled approvingly at him. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ll invite Payton over. We’ll order out, enjoy the kids, and watch romcoms on Netflix.”
Riker rolled his eyes. “Thank God I’ll be missing that.” The three men laughed together.
I wanted to smirk and make a reference to Riker’s poetry, but I would never, ever do that to him in front of his friends. Instead, I shrugged and said sassily, “Girls’ night in.”
I let the boys talk, leaning back and basking in the taste of fine red wine. Jay made little goo sounds in my other arm, grabbing at the loose, floaty sleeves of my shirt. He liked to reach for things, seeking to touch them and learn about them, slowly growing accustomed to the feel of worldly objects in his hands.
It has to be fate, I decided. Riker had found a woman to love, but been played. I had found a man who met my needs and wants physically, but turned into someone I didn’t even know. In me, Riker found an open book and a source of honesty, and in Riker, I found…everything.
I could see our future together as I sat watching Riker laugh and talk with his friends. He picked up Bree and settled her on his knee so she would feel like part of the conversation. I imagined when Jay was old enough, Riker would do that with him too. I could even see him picking up one more kid – a little boy or a little girl, either would make a wonderful addition to our family.
The kids would grow up with both a father and mother to teach them how to live, loving them every step of the way. As a happy couple, Riker and I would learn to navigate the ups and downs that were sure to come and bravely face our future together.
More from J.P. Comeau
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