by Lauren Rowe
I take a deep breath.
“Jonas, if there’s ever any indication whatsoever those fuckers are rising again or that they’ve figured out it was us who took them down, Henn will be on it like white on rice. And the minute Henn says something’s up, we’ll take immediate action, whatever’s necessary.” He looks at me pointedly. “Whatever needs to be done, I’m in. You know that, right?”
I nod. “Thanks.” I rotate the veggie kabobs on the grill. “We’re sure Oksana’s still wearing her fashionable orange jumpsuit?” I ask.
“Of course. All day, every day. It’s gonna be orange is the new black ’til the end of fucking time for good ol’ Oksana.”
“Fuck. I can’t stop thinking I should have taken her out with the others.”
Josh shakes his head. “What you did was perfect, bro. Don’t second-guess yourself. You were the God of the New Testament rather than the Old. Perfect measure of force. You showed class and restraint.”
“Fuck class and restraint. I shouldn’t have left a single loose end. That was stupid of me.” I shift the fish steaks on the grill, my stomach twisting. I’m silent for a long beat.
“You handled it exactly right, bro. Total precision—like a fucking sniper. So you.”
“I worry about loose ends. I worry we didn’t cut the head off the snake. The anxiety is eating me alive.”
“Dude. Max was the head, no doubt about it. We got ’em. Don’t worry.”
“You’re sure Henn’s on it?”
“He’s on it. If there’s ever even the suggestion of a shit storm coming our way, Henn will let us know immediately. And then we’ll take action. I promise.”
“Bubba, Daddy!” Gracie squeals.
“I’ll blow bubbles for you in just a second, sweetie. Can you twirl for Daddy?”
“Grassy twuhl.”
“Good girl. Twirl and make your dress go poof.”
Gracie twirls around and topples over and then repeats the exercise again. And then again. And again.
“So is that it? Is The Club all you’ve been worried about?”
I shrug.
Josh exhales. “What else, bro? Come on. I can read you like a fucking book. What’s going on?”
“I’m struggling,” I finally say, blowing out a loud puff of air. I press my lips into a tight line and look back down at the grill.
“About what?”
“Daddy!” Gracie shouts. “Bunny? Where da bunny, Daddy?”
“Yeah, I think the bunny lives over by those rocks, Gracie,” Josh says. “Can you find him?”
Gracie traipses off toward the rocks on the other side of the lawn.
“Jonas, talk to me. Is it Oksana? Is that what you’re struggling with?”
I shake my head, emotion swirling inside me.
“Jonas—”
“Daddy!” Gracie yells.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Daddy, bubba?”
“Sure, sweetie. I’ll blow bubbles for you in just a minute. Practice throwing the ball, honey.” He grabs a beach ball from the other side of the lawn, brings it to Gracie, throws it with her a few times, and walks back over to me. “Bro, tell me what you’re struggling with.”
I take a deep breath. “I’ve bitten off more than I can chew,” I confess quietly.
Josh’s face goes ashen. “With... what?”
I don’t reply.
“Jonas, talk to me. With what? The gyms?” He looks like he’s holding his breath.
“No. Not the gyms. I was born to do Climb and Conquer.”
Josh looks relieved. “I know you were.”
“Fuck yeah, I was.”
“Fuck yeah.” Josh glances at Gracie on the lawn. “Kat’s gonna kill us for dropping f-bombs around Little G.”
“Well, I’d rather not talk at all than say ‘effing’ all the time. You sound like you have a fucking vagina.”
“Screw you. Wait ’til you have babies and see what you’re willing to say and do. Wiping shit off another person’s tiny little ass ten times a day, walking around with spit up on your Gucci jacket—”
“I don’t own a fucking Gucci jacket, Kanye.”
“It’s an example. I’m not being literal here. The point is wait ’til you have a kid and see what you do.”
“Well, I won’t say ‘effing,’ that’s for sure.
“So you think. Mark my words, you’ll find yourself doing a million things you never imagined. Wearing a tiara to a tea party with teddy bears. Letting her sleep in your bed right between you and your wife—which means after the baby falls asleep you’ve got to sneak out of your own bed to have sex with your wife on the floor of the fucking nursery.”
I grimace.
“Don’t knock it, man. Sex in the baby’s nursery is hot in a twisted sort of way.”
“That’s fucked up, man.”
“Ha! A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. The most comfortable carpets are always in the baby’s nursery.” He winks and I grimace again. “Get ready for grab-it-when-you-can sex, Jonas. It’s looming in your future.”
“Yeesh.”
“Oh, and so much more fun stuff, too. Missing a Seahawks game because your baby has the slightest fever.” He looks over at Gracie. “Watching Dora the Fucking Explorer so many times you can’t hear the word ‘map’ without involuntarily bursting into goddamned song.” He laughs. “Fucking your wife in the backseat of your car right next to your sleeping baby in her car seat because a late-night drive was the only way to get your colicky baby to sleep.”
“Enough with the sex stories, Josh. Seriously.”
“I’m just telling the truth. No one ever tells the truth about this kind of stuff. Everyone pretends everything’s perfect and easy—but I’m telling you, it’s hard.” He looks at Gracie. “And so worth it. But I’m just warning you so you know—in the beginning, you gotta get pretty creative to get it.”
“I really don’t need these visuals of you, motherfucker.”
He laughs. “I’m your fucking guardian angel right now and you don’t even know it. Anyway, the whole point is that, considering all the other shit that goes hand-in-hand with having a baby, saying ‘effing’ really doesn’t seem like that big an effing deal, motherfucker.”
I have no idea how to respond, so I don’t say a damned thing.
“But all of it is so worth it, bro. Oh my God. Best thing ever.” He laughs. “Best effing thing ever. Indescribably awesome.”
“Daddy bubba?”
“Yes, Little G. I’ll blow bubbles for you.”
I add teriyaki sauce to the fish steaks, turn the veggie kabobs over, and lower the heat.
“Trust me, you’ll be saying effing, too,” Josh calls over his shoulder. He’s blowing bubbles for Gracie on the lawn.
“No chance.”
“You will.”
“I don’t have a vagina, so... nope.”
“Hey, Jonas.” I look over at Josh on the lawn. He flips me off and mouths the words, “Fuck you.”
“Bubba, Daddy!”
“You want more bubbles, Little G?” He blows a long train of perfect bubbles, and Gracie screams with excitement. “Go get ’em, honey!”
I take the swordfish off the grill and put them onto a platter.
“Grassy bubba!”
“Oh, you want to blow the bubbles?”
“Grassy bubba!”
“Okay, here’s the wand. You dip it in here and then—no, no, baby. Daddy has to hold the bottle or else you’ll spill it. Daddy holds the bottle and you put the wand in. No, Gracie. I’m holding the—okay, you want to hold the bottle? Just for a second. Wait, no, baby, careful. Aw, shoot. See what happened? Now the bubbles are all gone. That’s why Daddy has to hold the bottle.”
Gracie wails.
“Aw, honey, don’t cry. I’m sure Mommy’s got another bottle of bubbles for you.” He rubs his face. “Jonas, will you watch Gracie for a minute? I’ve got to go inside to get more bubbles from the diaper bag.”
“Yeah.
No problem. Lemme get the veggies off the grill real quick.” I remove the kabobs off the grill. “Okay, Gracie. You ready to ride Uncle Jonas like a horse again?”
Josh puts Gracie on my back and I reach around to hold her.
“Gidd-ap,” she says.
“You heard the girl. Giddy-up, Uncle Jo Jo.” He slaps my ass.
I trot around the lawn with Gracie on my back and she laughs and screams—but Josh doesn’t leave. He just keeps standing there, watching me, giving me that laughing-with-his eyes look.
“I thought you were getting the queen some more bubbles?” I say.
“She doesn’t even remember the bubbles anymore.”
“Then why the hell am I doing this?”
“Because you’re Uncle Jo Jo the Dancing Clown.”
“Unkie Jo-Jo Dah-Clehn.”
I roll my eyes.
“So, bro, if it’s not the gyms that’s got you all worked up, then what is it?” Josh asks. “What have you bitten off that’s more than you can chew?”
“Never mind, I’m fine. You want faster, Gracie?”
“Faster!”
I whinny like a horse and pretend to buck.
Gracie shrieks with glee.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I can see it in your face. Is everything okay with Sarah?”
“Unkie Jo Jo! Faster!”
“It’s always ‘faster’ with this one,” I say. “She’s definitely got her daddy’s need for speed.” I pick up my pace and Gracie squeals loudly. “This cowgirl’s got the need—the need for speed!”
Gracie screams with delight.
“Jonas,” Josh says. “Talk to me. What are you struggling with?”
“Okay, Little G,” I say. “Uncle Jonas needs a break.” I kneel down and let Gracie off my back. “Gimme my kisses.” I pucker and she obliges me. “Thank you, pretty girl.”
“You funny, Unkie Jo Jo,” Gracie says.
“I funny,” I agree.
She trots off to play in the dirt.
When I divert my attention from Gracie, Josh’s eyes are fixed on me.
“Talk to me,” he says, his voice tight.
I return his steady gaze, but I don’t speak.
“Talking lets the feelings out,” Josh says.
I twist my mouth and Josh grins sympathetically.
“I can’t stand the thought of losing them,” I choke out, my cheeks suddenly burning.
Josh furrows his brow in confusion. “Losing what?”
“Not what. Who.”
“You mean the babies?”
“Yeah. The babies. Sarah.” I swallow hard. “Everyone I love. Everything I live for. Everything that keeps me sane.”
“Aw, Jonas.” Josh’s eyes are suddenly moist.
I swallow hard. “I can’t stand it, Josh. The thought of everything going to shit is strangling me.”
“Jonas.” He looks up at the sky, his face pained.
“‘Death is not the worst that can happen to men,’” I say, my voice in danger of breaking.
“Plato?”
I nod.
“Aw, bro.” Josh shakes his head. He’s quiet for a long beat. “You’re such a dumbshit.”
I stare at Josh, not comprehending. “Why? What am I saying that’s so dumb this time? I’m trying to tell you—I’ve put myself at risk here. I’ve fucked up. I can’t do this. I’ve set myself up for a total and complete meltdown. Things are gonna get fucked up and I won’t be able to overcome it this time.”
“Oh, Jonas.”
“If anything goes wrong, anything at all, I’m fucking toast, man. I’m telling you. Every single bit of my sanity—every single morsel of my happiness—it’s all wrapped up in Sarah and what’s growing inside her right now. I’m on thin ice, every fucking day. The stakes are just so high. I’m walking a tightrope. I’ve got too much to lose.”
“Jonas.” Josh rolls his eyes. “Calm the fuck down. Oh my God, Jonas. You’re going off the deep end here. Chill the fuck out.”
“How can I chill the fuck out? Everything’s at stake now. Everything.”
“Jonas, listen to me. Jesus. Jonas.”
I stop and stare at him, my chest rising and falling violently.
“What you’re describing is nothing special. It’s not just you, bro. It’s everyone.”
I stare at him blankly, breathing hard.
“Are you gonna listen to me?”
I breathe deeply.
“Jonas?”
“What?”
“Are you listening?”
“Yeah.”
“What you’re describing is simply what it means to love with all your heart and soul, you dumbshit.” He rolls his eyes again. “God, you’re so stupid sometimes, Jonas, I swear to God. I just don’t understand how someone can be so smart and so dumb all at once.” He rolls the entirety of his head at me, not just his eyes. “What you’re feeling is what it means to be a husband and a father, bro—for any man, not just you. It’s not just you.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.
“You think what you’re feeling is because of all you’ve been through? What we’ve been through? No. It’s called fatherhood, man. It’s what happens when a boy becomes a fucking man. Now, all of a sudden, your entire happiness—every last bit of it—depends on the health and wellbeing and happiness of your wife and kid.” He looks at Gracie. “And there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s the most helpless feeling in the world.”
There’s a lump in my throat. “I’m normal to feel this way?” I finally ask. “It’s not just because I’m... me?”
“No, it’s not just you, dumbshit. I feel the same way every minute of every fucking day. I’m so happy, just so fucking happy with Kat and Gracie, and another one on the way, oh my God, I literally pray every night, ‘Please, dear God, please don’t take all of this away from me. Please, please, please. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll be a good father. I’ll be a good husband. I’ll donate money to cure cancer. I’ll donate money for a thousand water wells in Africa.” His voice quavers. “Just please, please, please don’t fucking destroy me.’”
My chest tightens. I’m shaking like I’ve been rolling around in the snow without a jacket. “That’s exactly it,” I whisper.
“We’re the same, Jonas. More than you know. The only difference between me and you is I’m not stupid enough to think I’m the first man on the planet to feel this way.” He rolls his eyes yet again.
“Daddy bubba?” Gracie pulls on Josh’s pant leg.
“Hey, honey, you know what? I think I saw the bunny that lives over there next to those rocks—he just poked his head up and looked for you. Can you find him? I think he wants you to pet him.” Gracie wanders in the direction of the rocks, yet again, and we both watch her waddle away for a moment. “Bro,” he finally says, putting his hand on my shoulder, “what you’re feeling is happiness. It doesn’t feel like it, I know—but, trust me, that’s what it is. You’re just focusing on the wrong side of the coin, that’s all. You’re focusing on what you could lose, instead of what you have. Just turn the coin over, man. That’s all you have to do to be happy—just turn the coin over. That’s all anyone can fucking do.”
I’m quiet for a long time, thinking.
“You understand?” Josh finally says.
I nod.
“You sure?”
I nod.
“Anything else bothering you?”
I shake my head.
“You sure?”
I nod.
“You ready to stop being a pussy-ass?”
I nod again.
“Good. It’s about time. Because I’m sick of you being such a goddamned pussy.”
I laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He slaps his face. Hard. “Okay, pussy-ass-motherfucker.”
I slap my face in reply, even harder. “Thanks, asshole-cocksucker.”
<
br /> He hugs me.
“Thanks, Josh.” I bury my face into his shoulder for a minute.
“Just talk to me, Jonas,” he says into my cheek. “No matter what.” He kisses the side of my neck. “You big dummy.” He pulls away from our hug and looks me in the eyes like he’s going to say something particularly poignant. “Talking. Lets. The. Feelings. Out.”
We both burst out laughing.
“There’s this really cool book I can loan to you, if you want. It might really help you.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve read that book. Like, five hundred times.”
Josh slaps me on the shoulder. “So, come on. Let’s wrap up this heartfelt and poignant conversation with some obscure Plato quote that’s gonna rock my world and make you sound like some kind of fucking deep thinker. That’s the only thing that could make this moment any better.”
“Fuck you.”
“Aw, come on. Plato me.”
“I’ve got one, you know.”
“I know you do. And I’m sure it’s super-duper profound.”
I roll my eyes.
“Hit me.”
“No, because you’re just being a dick. And I don’t like you being a dick to my boy Plato.”
“Aw, come on. I have full respect for your boy. If he’s your brother, then he’s my brother, too.”
I glare at him.
“Seriously. Plato me.”
I exhale. “Fine.”
“This is gonna be good. I can feel it.”
“‘There are two things a person should never be angry at—what they can help, and what they cannot,’” I say.
“Ah, see? Perfect. Exactly right. Good one, Plato. In other words, take a chill pill. Worrying never helped anybody.”
“Never mock my boy.”
“Never.”
“If you force me to choose between Plato and you, I’ll choose Plato every time, fucker. Always remember that.”
“Hey, I already knew that.”
I grin at him.
“But seriously. Whatever helps you figure your shit out is fine by me. Always. And Plato’s right. Don’t worry. There’s no point. Just focus on your happiness. Anything else is a waste of time. We can’t control any of it. So just enjoy the ride.”
I take a long, deep breath. “You’re absolutely sure what I’m feeling is normal?”
“Well, fuck. I don’t know if it’s normal—is there such a thing as normal? All I can say is I feel it, too. But I just choose to ignore it and enjoy the ride—unlike you, Mr. Look for Unhappiness Under Every Fucking Rock.”
