Bittersweets_Terry and Alex

by Suzanne Jenkins

  “Why? I’m not going into the delivery room. No way man,” he said, shuddering.

  “This is your baby, Alex. I’ll go if you won’t,” she said. “I promised Jennifer I’d make sure you were there.”

  “Thanks,” he said, giving her a dirty look.

  “You can stand up at her head. You don’t have to be down in the gore.”

  “Okay, whew! I thought you were going to make me cut the cord, or something horrible like that,” Alex said.

  They got dressed and while Terry waited for the coffee to perk, she put makeup on her face. It would be the first time she met Alex’s ex and she was going to look nice if it killed her.

  They got their travel mugs of coffee and tiptoed down the stairs, Alex shushing her when she talked. “Benny’s not home,” Terry said.

  The temperature was less than twenty degrees. “I can’t believe how cold it is,” Terry said, shivering.

  “Do you want a blanket?” Alex said. “I’ll run in and get one.”

  “No, no, I’ll be fine. Let’s get moving.”

  As he was pulling out of the driveway, her phone beeped. “It’s Rick!” she said to Alex.

  “Why are you up?” she asked Rick.

  “The people downstairs got a dog,” he said. “He’s a good watch dog. When people sneak off in the middle of the night, he warns me.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Terry said.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Jennifer is in labor.”

  “Ugh,” he said. “It’s a little early.”

  “Two months,” Terry said. “I’m worried but trying to stay sane for Alex’s sake.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’ll call you when we know what’s happening. Go back to bed.”

  The streets were covered with glitter, ice crystals almost hanging in the air. “What a beautiful night for my daughter to be born,” he said.

  “Congratulations, Alex,” Terry side, reaching over to kiss him. “I’m feeling a little strange.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t imagine. I appreciate how calm and supportive you’ve been. Jennifer is, too. I want to be in her life. Jennifer is calling her Calista. Callie for short.”

  “Oh, that’s so pretty! It’s unusual but not odd.”

  “That’s what I thought. Calista Hawthorn.”

  “It fits! Nice,” Terry said.

  In less than an hour, Alex pulled into the parking lot of the Princeton Hospital. The brightly lit lobby was empty except for a uniformed police officer and a middle-aged man sitting at the reception desk.

  They approached the desk, Terry feeling out of place, but excited. Soon, they’d be having a baby together. But this was Alex’s baby. She had to keep reminding herself that her baby was not his first. Their baby would never be his first.

  “Can I help you?” the man said.

  “My…my daughter is being born tonight. Her mother called us that she was coming in to deliver.”

  “You want Labor and Delivery then,” he replied.

  Standing up, he handed them a paper map with a confusing path, involving changing elevators on an upper floor. “Here’re your passes,” he said, handing over two worn cardboard passes on frayed lanyards. “Keep them in sight at all times.”

  “Jeez, do you think you could change these strings once in awhile? They’re disgusting,” Alex said, his OCD uncontrollable during stress.

  “I just volunteer here,” the man said.

  “Come on, Alex, get going,” Terry said, pushing him away from the desk.

  They followed the map through a maze of hallways and finally after two elevator rides, found Labor and Delivery. They stepped off the elevator, practically running into Ben Marks verging on hysteria, looking more than eager to get out of the hospital. A tall, handsome African American man, Ben Marks usually exuded confidence and success. He was among the top selling realtors in Manhattan that year, and with his help, Jennifer was fast approaching the same level of sales, already making more money than Alex did. But now Ben was a wreck, glassy eyed and disheveled at four AM.

  “Ben, how is she?” Alex asked.

  “She had the baby. They’re both fine,” he said, moving around the couple to get on the elevator.

  “The baby is so early. How much did she weigh?”

  “She’s in the window of that nursery,” Ben said pointing, an edge of frenzy to his voice as he reached for the button and pushed it multiple times.

  “Thank you so much for bringing her in,” Alex said. “I really appreciate you helping out.”

  But the door was closing and Ben didn’t respond.

  “What’s his problem?” Terry asked.

  “Like I said, his wife is probably pissed. I feel guilty now,” Alex said, moving toward the nursery.

  “It’s natural to feel some responsibility,” Terry said, grasping at any words of comfort.

  “I’m getting scared,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m about to meet my daughter.”

  “Aww, it’s wonderful, Alex,” Terry said softly, rubbing his back.

  They stood in the large nursery window, a sign which said, Don’t Tap on the Glass warning them not to.

  There were four babies in small, clear plastic bassinets. “Can you see the names?” Terry asked.

  A nurse stuck her head out of the door. “The mother’s name?” she asked, smiling.

  “Jennifer Falstaff,” Alex said. “Our baby is early. She wasn’t due until April.”

  “The Falstaff baby is full term,” the nurse said. “She weighs over nine pounds. Are you sure you’ve got the name right?”

  “It’s my baby,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I know when she was due.”

  “I thought she kept your name,” Terry asked. “You should insist the baby has your name.”

  “Oh, there she is!” Alex cried.

  As the nurse pushed the baby closer, Alex and Terry reached for each other’s hands and leaned closer to the window.

  Confusion segued to surprise, and finally, to resignation and relief.

  “Well, I guess I understand now why Ben was in such a hurry to get away from us,” Terry said.

  They sat side by side in the cafeteria, drinking coffee. The room was dark except for the lights along the service area. The coffee was fresh. Terry grabbed two rolls from a cellophane covered tray.

  “Oh, this is good. They must have just made them,” she said, devouring the first one.

  “You don’t have to keep up this chatter,” Alex said, reaching over to kiss her. “I’m not going to kill myself. I’m actually relieved.”

  “Are you going to say anything to her tonight? Or this morning?”

  “No, why bother? I am going to go after her for the money that the divorce cost me,” he said. “What I can’t understand is how she thought she was going to get away with it?”

  “Maybe she wasn’t sure whose baby it was,” Terry said.

  “Remember, nine months ago, I was still in Iraq. When I got home, now that I think about it, we were only together that one time, and she initiated it, it was so forced and unsatisfactory. I’m not sure what she was trying to prove.”

  “Maybe she was trying to make Ben jealous,” Terry said. “Force his hand.”

  “All I can say is thank God today is Saturday because there is no way in hell I could have worked.”

  “If you aren’t going to see her, let’s get home,” she said. “We can still get a few hours of sleep and not waste the whole day.”

  “I’m not going to waste my time seeing her,” he said. “Poor little baby. Now I’m going to worry about her.”

  “Me, too. But hopefully Jennifer’s parents will help her. I wonder what Ben is going to do.”

  “Ben’s screwed,” Alex said. “Jennifer probably manipulated him just like she did me. I’d like to be a fly on his wall right now. His wife is formidable, if I remember correctly.”

  “Yuck, forget it,” Terry said. “Let’s jus
t get home.”

  “We were going to house hunt today,” Alex said. “Are you game?”

  “If I get some sleep I will be later,” she said. “Remember, we have lunch at Jason’s at two.”

  “Oh, right. That’s fine. If we get up early enough we can hit some open houses before then.”

  They got up from the table, placing their cups and plates in a cart, and left the cafeteria and finally the hospital.

  “We never need to come here again,” Alex said, sighing with relief. “Thank you for being with me. This would have sucked if I was alone.”

  “You’ll never be alone again,” she said, taking his hand.

  “I love you,” he said, opening her door.

  “I love you, too.” Terry said.

  “Home,” he said, yawning.

  ***

  The Hawthorns safely back home by six, Rick saw their headlights sweep across his bedroom wall. It must have been a false alarm for them to be home so fast. He’d call Terry later. Jason invited them to have lunch in his overheated apartment above the bookstore that afternoon. Laying in bed with a smile on his face, the best thing that had ever happened for Rick was Jason Saunders coming out of the closet at the ripe old age of thirty-two. They were perfectly suited in every way, outside of the bedroom. To Jason’s bookish perfection, Rick, a slightly quirky musician would thrive in the peace and order that Jason assembled around him.

  Their relationship wasn’t sexual yet, although it was possibly moving in that direction after a month. “We can take our time,” Rick, the more experienced of the two had said. “That is if you’re even attracted to me.”

  Blushing, Jason stopped fussing with piles of sheet music in Rick’s living room Friday morning. He was there supposedly to have coffee, but the clutter made it impossible for him to relax. His natural inclination to organize, Rick needed help in that regard.

  “I’m attracted to you,” Jason said, trying and failing at keeping the whine out of his voice.

  “But you were attracted to Terry, too,” Rick said, needling him. “That’s a contradiction.”

  “I was attracted to Terry’s aloof concentration,” Jason said, stamping his foot. “She sat on a stool in my shop for almost an hour going over every mystery book on the shelf. That attracted me.”

  “What attracts me to you?” Rick asked, getting up in his face. “Hurry and answer. Don’t think about it.”

  “Your arms,” Jason spat out, surprising himself, looking at Rick’s tattooed biceps peeking out of the sleeves of a white t-shirt. “Why don’t you have a shirt on anyway? It’s freezing in here.”

  “What else?” Rick asked, reaching for a plaid flannel shirt that he knew Jason hated, but that made it all the more enticing to wear, flexing his arms while he put it on.

  “The contents of your jeans,” Jason sputtered, glancing down. “Is that enough?

  Smiling, Rick didn’t laugh like he wanted to because Jason would have been offended. Jason was unconsciously sexual. He tried to be such a prude, but then the most raucous things often came out of his mouth.

  “I’ll be happy to show you my bulge any time,” Rick said, emphasizing it by grasping himself and giving it a little shake. “You just have to ask.”

  “Not today,” Jason said, nerves taking over. “Stop playing with me.”

  “Jason, you’ll know when I’m playing with you, trust me,” he said, seriously. “Okay, so what’s on the agenda? It’s Friday! Hallelujah. What are we doing this weekend?”

  Cautious, Jason tried to tell if Rick was still messing with him, but he was busy reorganizing the sheet music Jason had just tried to straighten up.

  “After coffee, if you ever get it made, I have to open up the shop. On Saturday, when my niece gets in, I’m having you and Terry and her husband over for a late lunch. And then, if you will humor me, I’d like to listen to you on the piano. It appears I’m the last person in Mount Airy to hear you play.”

  An audible sniff ended his diatribe, surprising Rick. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “Why don’t I play right now, and then number four of your list will be accomplished.”

  Rather than wait for an answer; in the short time they’d been together, Rick learned Jason could be extremely stubborn, neurotic, and passive aggressive, Rick went to the piano, flipped imaginary tuxedo tails in the air, and sat on the piano bench. He warmed up by playing a little honky-tonk, the light tune diffusing uptight Jason, and he laughed before he could stop himself, sitting down next to Rick on the bench.

  Segueing to Rachmaninoff Concerto 1, Rick looked over at Jason to see his response.

  Jason shook his head, smiling.

  “What?” Rick asked, his hands poised over the keys.

  “Don’t stop,” he said. “But could you give a guy a warning?”

  “No,” Rick said, commencing to play. “I like the two extremes.”

  “Me, too,” Jason said, leaning against Rick.

  In a smooth transition, they slid into each other’s arms. “Sort of like this,” Rick whispered. “From cold, to hot.”

  “Nothing to everything,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. I’m scared, I guess.”

  Taking Jason by the arms and looking into his eyes, Rich got serious. “We don’t have to do anything,” he said. “Let’s get to know each other until there’s nothing left to know but that.”

  “How long will you be able to wait?” Jason asked, again unable to keep a little whine out of his voice.

  “I’m an adult man, not a horny teenager,” Rich said. “I want you in my life for more than just a screw. Do you understand that?”

  Touching foreheads, they looked intently at each other while Rick waited for an answer, a pivotal moment in their growing relationship. Jason nodded, biting his lip to keep from crying, his emotions all over the place lately, Rick’s personality, physicality, everything about him checking off all the boxes for what Jason had ever wanted in a partner, except his gender.

  “I just have to get used to this whole sexuality thing,” he said. “You’re right when you say I’ve been dishonest with myself. No, that’s not true. I know what I am, but I didn’t want to be that, because it goes against everything I’d hoped for. I’ve been fighting it.”

  “How’s that working for you?” Rick asked.

  “You see how it’s working,” Jason cried. “I’m thirty-two and miserable because I’m alone. The wife and kids ain’t happening for me.”

  “Because you’re G-A-Y,” Rick said, as gently as he was able. “Look, just relax. I have the rest of my life. We never have to have sex, if that will make you feel better. But in the meantime, loosen up and try to enjoy the journey. You remind me a little of my dad, who couldn’t take a trip without focusing on the destination. All of this fabulous scenery would be flashing by us as he sped toward wherever we were headed.”

  “That sounds awful,” Jason said, reaching for a tissue. “I’ll try to enjoy the journey.” They sat side by side while Jason composed himself, mumbling again, “I guess if I’m having coffee I’d better make it myself.”

  Saturday morning, while Rick lay in bed, listening to the soft drone of Terry and Alex’s voice echoing in the dawn, the crunch of their boots on frost, he thought of Jason. On Friday night, after he closed up the book shop, they’d taken the train into town to see a movie. After a wonderful dinner at one of Rick’s favorite spots, they walked around the tourist area, holding hands, oblivious to the cold, getting to know each other just like Rick had recommended that morning.

  “This morning, you said you’d been waiting for the wife and kids. How about settling for the husband and kids?” Rick asked, squeezing Jason’s hand.

  “Really?” he asked. “You’d do that with me?”

  “Jason, I want a family, too. I’ve told you before that if you can see your way clear through the confusion, I’d do it with you. We’d make a striking couple.”

  “We already make a striking couple,” Jason replied. “Look at the admiring glances we
get. We don’t know each other well enough to have the family talk yet.”

  “You need to decide what it is you want,” Rick said, his mood quickly deescalating. “I’ve had enough walking.”

  “No problem,” Jason said, releasing his hand “Let’s go home.”

  In silence they walked back to Jason’s car, because he was uncomfortable in Rick’s truck, worried gang members would think they were tough guys. The ride back to Mount Airy was a little icy, more than just the weather, neither one knowing what to say to break the tension.

  “Are you still having Terry and Alex for lunch tomorrow?” Rick finally asked.

  “Yes, they said they’d love to come. Can you come over by two? It will help me relax if you’re there.”

  “I’ll be there by two,” Rick said. “Can I bring anything?”

  “Can you stop by the Acme and pick up a cake I ordered?”

  “Sure,” he said, the store just around the corner. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “I’m trying to make it like a wedding celebration for them. I have champagne, and the cake. Lobster salad for lunch. It’ll be nice to honor them even though it’s month late.”

  Rick hoped they weren’t going to cancel on Jason, even though they had every reason to with the birth/no birth event in the middle of the night. Picking up his phone to check the time, it wasn’t seven and he was getting tired again.

  “I’ll call them later,” he mumbled, turned over in bed and went back to sleep.

  ***

  The sound of Alex’s angry voice woke Terry up at eleven. The door was closed. She got up on an elbow and strained to hear what he was saying. It sounded like he was talking to Jennifer, snippets of conversation revealing.

  “Were you going to try to pawn Ben’s kid off on me?”

  Silence.

  “That’s the lamest rationalization I’ve ever heard.”

  Silence.

  “We never have to talk to each other again.”

  And finally, “Goodbye.”

  Laying back down, she closed her eyes in case he came back into the bedroom. She hoped he wasn’t hurt or disappointed. But the positive was that their baby would be the baby.

  The door handle turned and he peeked in the room.