by Crowe, Liz
“Oh nothing,” she kept her voice light as she padded over to them. She took the coffee cup just he was about to take the first sip.
“Hey.” He muttered, still half pissed off. She slid into his lap, arms around his neck, lips to his ear. She reached up to grip Blake’s hand, bring him around to the front of the saggy, beach house quality couch. She put his and Rob’s hands on her flat stomach.
“We are pregnant.” Rob sucked in a breath. Blake smiled. They kissed each other, and then took turns kissing her.
****
Blake blinked into the bright, but fading sunlight. The wedding planner was worth his fee. It seemed as the whole thing had come off without a hitch. His sister looked glorious and deliriously happy for the first time in her life. Her new husband, the guy Blake had made a point to hate for a good long time before admitting that the two of them were perfect together seemed a little dazed. But every time he looked at Sara, his gaze sharpened in way that satisfied Blake completely. The men all wore khaki’s rolled up out of the sand, soft white cotton shirts. The only thing that distinguished Jack from the wedding party was a small red rose pinned to his pocket.
Sara’s dress was perfect, made her glow like an angel as she made her way down the many steps from the house to the beach as the harp and violins perched on the second level deck played Mozart and Pachelbel. Julie, Lila and Val, her wedding party stood on one side of the minister, Jack, Rob, Evan and Blake on the other. Blake and Sara’s parents stood nearby, their mother wiping her eyes, their father alternatively evil-eyeing Jack or staring glowingly at his daughter. Katie and Maddie walked ahead of Sara, dropping flower petals on the sand.
The ceremony itself was simple: The necessary words, music and an exchange of equally unaffected rings, a surprise since Jack was known for showing off how much he could spend on shit like that. But Sara had insisted, and so they wore matching bands of pure platinum, etched with a date that had significance to no one but the two of them. The weather cooperated, the catering was perfect, and the eighty or so friends who’d been invited all showed and shared the day. Photos were relaxed and fun; none of the stiff “wedding party” style they wanted to avoid. After posing Blake, Rob, and Lila together, Suzanne, Craig and Katie, and the usual bride/groom and daughter and the requisite parental shots the photographer grabbed a beer and took a break. Rob had nodded at the guy, pointed over his shoulder. Jack and Sara stood, silhouetted nearly perfectly against the setting sun, arms around each other waists, foreheads together. The photographer had snuck up and caught that perfect moment.
Blake collapsed into a lounge chair clutching a beer, mind still reeling from the day. As he watched Rob get food for Lila and settle her into a nearby chair it occurred to him they hadn’t told anyone yet. He smiled, feeling but sheer happiness flooding through him at the sight of Rob giving Lila bites of his food.
Sara flopped into the chair next to him. Jack handed her a glass of lemonade, put a hand to her face and kissed her, before moving into the small crowd to greet more guests.
“Tee totaling it sister, dear?” Blake asked. She smiled at him, motioned Lila over to sit next to her. Rob moved a couple of chairs over so they could sit together.
“Well?” She looked at Lila, who blushed. Rob looked at Blake and then shrugged.
“We,” Lila took Sara’s hand, “are pregnant.” Blake spit out his beer and sat up. Rob laughed and clapped him on the back a couple of times.
“Excellent.” He declared, rising to his feet and lifting his own glass of lemonade. “To fertility.” He shouted, as Jack joined them, pulling Sara to her feet and planting an embarrassingly enthusiastic kiss on her in front of everyone.
“Get a room, kids,” Rob ordered, before sitting back down, out of breath. Jack stared into Blake’s sister’s eyes a good long time. Blake pulled Lila down onto the lounge with him, let her lay back against him as he put a hand on her stomach, kissing her shoulder.
****
“So,” Jack wandered out onto the lower deck after the last guest had made their way to rental houses or hotel rooms. There was a large breakfast planned in the morning at one of the nearby resorts and a golf outing after, but people had lingered, enjoying the perfect July night, the bonfires Blake had laid out, the remainder of the food and drinks. “Daddy eh?” He handed Rob a glass full of bourbon. Rob took it, still staring out over the darkening Lake Michigan.
“Apparently. Hopefully I’ll be around for…” Jack jerked him to his feet, gripped his arm, and nearly made him spill the expensive brown liquor onto the wooden floor.
“Cut that shit out, right fucking now Frietag. I mean it.” Jack’s face was near his. Rob frowned, tried to wrestle out of the other man’s grasp. “You have life by the throat. Remember?” They stood, staring at each other a minute.
Then Jack’s face crumpled. It was a moment Rob would never forget. Soft music trickled down from the upper house, girlish laughter, adult conversation, the sounds of life made his chest clench even tighter. His friend slumped into a chair. “Ah shit. I’m sorry.” Rob stood, frozen in a sudden wash of panic. He didn’t know how to die. How did one do that anyway? What did you say to people? The long slow slog up the cancer hill and he’d reached the top, it seemed. Lung transplants were rare, because it required someone else to die and for that dead person to somehow be a perfect match.
He tried to breathe, remembered his capacity was diminished then decided to get drunk instead, downing the burning hot bourbon in two gulps and handing it back to Jack. “Bring the bottle down.” Jack nodded and bounded up the stairs, returning with the Woodford Reserve in minutes. “Go. Have your wedding night. god damn you.” He muttered into his second glass.
“Oh hell, Sara claims she wants to stay here, so I guess I get to spend my wedding night on your shitty ass couch my friend.” Rob scoffed at him. “I know, pussy whipped, that’s me. And happy to be so.” He raised his glass, Rob touched his to it. “To us. All our years before. And many years ahead.” Jack’s strong jaw clench.
Rob sighed. He hated reducing perfectly strong people to weeping ragdolls. “To you my friend. And your happiness.” After another strong pour his head swam. He leaned forward, put his hand on Jack’s leg. “When I do go, I want a party, right fucking here.” He pointed to the sand at their feet. “No more tears than are necessary. Lots of booze, food, loud music, all of it. Promise me.”
Jack nodded. But Rob insisted. “No, you asshole. Promise me. Like you mean it.” Rob felt his eyes burn. His chest hurt like of a son of a bitch, he could hardly stand it, but he would be damned if he let on tonight. This was Jack’s night. He deserved one free of cancer drama. Jack put a hand on his heart.
“I solemnly swear. No tears. Only laughter. Lots of booze, food and whatever the fuck else it is that will get you to shut up about it. It’s not something I want to contemplate until I have to. Got it?” He tilted his glass at Rob.
“Rob? Jack?” Lila’s voice wafted down. “You guys hungry? We’ve got leftovers up here.”
“Fuck me.” Rob muttered. Jack patted his shoulder. Rob shrugged him off and stayed well after his friend had gone up, staring out onto the dark lake.
Chapter Six
Seven-and-a-half months later
Lila woke for the millionth time, groaned and tried to roll over, gave up and waddled into the bathroom to pee for the thousandth time. Rob was asleep, his brush with cancer in a seeming sleep mode as well, to the wonder of all his doctors. After the wedding weekend, he had rallied like a champ; the shadow retreating once more. He, Blake and Lila set about making the house perfect for a larger family, setting up a room for Maddie who was ecstatic about having uncles same as Katie and a new little brother or sister. They decorated the baby’s room in bright primary colors, the crib was ready, the closet stocked with the necessary diapers, wipes, onesies, all of it. She ran a hand across the changing table, soaked up the baby atmosphere she loved so much—a powdery, clean newness that made her scalp tingle in anticipation.<
br />
She and Sara had tracked nearly at the same pace, and they’d had a hilarious, mostly drunken couples shower one weekend at Jack and Sara’s new house. Katie had gotten the dog she’d been asking for, bringing on similar “I want” noises from Maddie. Their due dates had been literally within days of each other, still about two weeks away. But Sara had gone early and was now home with Brandis Robert, her and Jack’s son.
She wandered back into their bedroom, observed her men in their familiar sleep poses. Blake on his back, arm flung over his eyes, half-uncovered, naked. Rob on his stomach, arms under the pillow, one foot hanging over the end of the bed. Also naked. Something in her stirred at the sight. She slid between them, ran her hand down Blake’s torso, gripped his morning hard cock, making him groan and pull her close. “Horny?” he muttered. She smiled. They were so accommodating, her men. She nodded, licked his nipple, pleased when his cock twitched in her hand. “Mmmm…Let me see what I can do,” she lay back, propped up on pillows as he lapped at her swollen breasts. “Dear god you taste good,” he sighed, cupping the other one.
Rob stirred, surprising them both. They’d been known to fuck like mad right beside him at night, as he slept unaware, only to wake up and blearily declare that he smelled sex. He raised his tousled blond head, smiled, then paid attention to her other nipple, tugging gently, running a hand over the swell of her stomach. She groaned as his fingers located her swollen clit. Blake’s hands roamed over her belly, then met Rob’s as they worked together to bring her to a breathless, clutching climax. She stretched, loving the feeling of being so ripe and full.
“Ow! Jesus.” she yelped. Rob leaned up on an elbow, eyes worried. Just as she was about to get up he started coughing. And couldn’t stop. He sat, face red, waving her away as she pulled on a robe and tried to help him to his feet. “Blake!” She cried out, and he came running, still dripping from the shower. “Call 911!” Rob kept wheezing, half coughing, tears running
from his eyes. He tried to stand, then fell to the floor. “Now!” She doubled over as the first contraction hit.
****
The dream was beyond strange. There was a boat, and what seemed to be mounds and mounds of hop flowers. Green buds and vines piled all over the damn thing. Rob tried to shift them, to get to … something he couldn’t name. They wouldn’t move. They got bigger. Until the heap of green, bitter smelling vines towered over him. He heard a baby cry. Then he woke.
“Rob?” A nurse stood over him, hand on his wrist. He tried to lick his lips. They felt like two slabs of beef jerky, dry, leathery, disgusting. She put a straw to them and he sucked down what felt like gallons of water. Then had a five minute coughing fit that had her adjusting things at his IV line. He flopped back on the thin hospital pillow. He struggled up, remembering.
“Lila!” He cried out, the nurse smiled.
“She’s out there. Hang on.” Rob sucked in the horribly familiar stale hospital air. The last air he’d likely breathe he now. The door opened. Blake walked in holding something. Lila was in front of him, in a wheelchair. She looked exhausted, Blake looked even worse. Rob’s throat closed up. Lila stood and made her way to him, lowered the bed rails and climbed in, snuggling close. He smiled. Blake tucked the bundle in his other arm.
“Our son.” Blake’s voice broke and he gripped Rob’s hand, then Lila’s. She stared up at him sleepily. Rob looked down as Blake moved the blue blanket aside. The sleeping infant startled, waved his arms around, made a bleating sound then settled back into sleep. Rob thought his heart would pound out of his chest.
“Our son,” he croaked. Lila kissed him then climbed out of the bed. Her absence made him cold and he was about to ask her to get back in when the door opened and the room filled up with Jack, Sara, Evan, Craig. He was surprised when Suzanne kissed him, the baby, hugged Blake and stepped back as Craig put an arm around her. Jack held another baby in one arm.
Some alarm or another went off near his head but Craig silenced it, telling them all it was nothing to worry about. But he excused himself, kissed Suzanne, whispering something to her then left the room. Rob tried to take a breath, couldn’t. But he held his son close, loving the warmth of his small body, as everyone around him chattered and tried to act like it was perfectly normal to be here, with two newborn babies, his woman in a robe, his man near tears at his bedside. A familiar anger wormed its way into his brain. He banished it. Kissed his son’s forehead. And watched as his friends got on with their lives.
Blake leaned into him, brushed his hair back. “Gabriel, like we said.” He moved the blanket aside so Rob could see fingers and toes. “Perfect.” He kissed the boy’s small nose. Rob looked up at the ceiling and tried like hell not to lose it.
“Um, what happened to me?” He honestly did not know.
“Pneumonia. I It’s better now.” Blake smiled at him. “But..”
Rob blinked. “I know. The book’s due, isn’t it?”
A tear slid down Blake’s cheek. “I’m afraid so my love. But I’m taking you home. Okay? In about a week. Lila and Gabe come home tomorrow. I’ll get them settled. Then Craig has arranged for a bed we can put in the living room, near the big window in the back, and a full time nurse.”
“What happened to hospice,” Rob couldn’t believe he was being so calm. But really, what were his options? The baby stirred, started to make snuffling noises.
Lila kissed Rob, and took the baby from his arms. “He’s hungry.”
Rob nodded, dazed. Jack, Sara and Suzanne each kissed him or patted his hand then wandered out. Lila sat in the recliner and put the baby to her breast. The boy nuzzled around a minute then latched on. Lila gazed down at him. Blake put a hand to Rob’s face.
“Oh god. I don’t want to go.” He sighed and saw a tear hit the baby’s face, making him flinch but not deterring the basic need to feed. “Blake,” he gasped, gripping the man’s hand. “Get a doctor. There’s got to be something we can do. I’ll do the chemo even though I said I wouldn’t. Radiation whatever…whatever it takes.” Blake climbed up on the bed, held him close and they watched Lila feed their son. “There isn’t anything else is there?”
Blake shook his head. “Unless you can get a transplant. And I’m holding out for that.” Rob’s body shook, but Blake held him and he fell asleep. When he woke, the room was empty.
Chapter Seven
Two weeks later
Blake sat in the back yard, an empty six-pack of one of his first bottled batches by his side, clutching a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He’d uttered every curse word he could think of, had run for miles, kicked the living shit out of soccer balls for hours, held Gabe, watched him and Lila sleep, held Rob’s hand as they got the final verdict from his posse of medical experts, all of whom agreed. Unless the unlikely event of a lung transplant presented itself, Rob had weeks if not days left, at best.
Now, he was well and truly drunk. Off his ass. Shit faced. Three sheets to the wind. Blotto. Polluted. Pick your phrase, motherfuckers. He lifted the bottle. In just ten short years, he’d gone from puppy sick in love, to heart shredded, to saved, to fulfilled, to family. And now? He’d obviously done something in a past life to bring this fucking shit down on his head. How in the hell would he do this without Rob? He clutched the chair arm and focused on the horizon. The baby cried. Then was silenced. Lila wandered out, plucked the bottle from his hand and put it to her own lips.
Blake looked blearily at her. “Will we ever stop crying?” he slurred, wiping away the tears that streaked her cheeks, then staring at his wet fingers as if he’d never seen them before. “Jesus Christ, will this ever stop hurting? Fuck!”
“Shhh…” Lila handed him the bottle back, put her hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“No, god dammit! It is not okay. None of this is fucking okay. It’s as messed up as messed up can get. Don’t you get it? I can’t do this without him!” He jerked away from her, fury and alcohol making his vision blur. “He’s the man. He’s the grown up. He’s t
he one who organizes, and fixes and… and …I can’t…” Agony gripped his chest as he heaved the half-empty bottle against the side of the garage, satisfied with its shatter and mess. He turned. Lila had gone back in the house. Not that he blamed her. He was weak, lame. And this whole thing was only going to get worse.
After a few minutes, another form approached. Sara. She put a hand on his shoulder and he went into her arms, long suppressed sobs choking his throat, as she held him, guided him back inside and down on the couch.
****
“All right sleeping beauty,” Blake busied himself around the room, checking on the baby who cooed in his state-of-the-art seat. “Let’s get the fuck out of this place shall we?” He smiled down at Rob. After a day of brutal hangover recovery, dotted with bouts of throwing up and embarrassed apologies, he’d rallied. The bed had been delivered and set up right where Blake wanted it, next to the large window looking onto the back yard.
Rob sat in the chair, his face pale, an oxygen tank next to him, tubes leading to his nose. He nodded. “Tired. Can we go soon?” Lila patted his shoulder, looked up at Blake expectantly.
Blake glanced around. “Where the hell is the discharge nurse?” Sara stuck her head in the door.
“Hey guys.” She took one look at the scene, called back over her shoulder for Jack who came in and quietly took over. “Honey,” she put a hand on Blake’s shoulder nearly making him leap out of his skin. “Why don’t you go pick up Maddie and Katie from my house? Julie’s there with them. Bring them over to your place and get them settled and used to the new furniture arrangement. I think we’re gonna be at least forty five minutes here.” She glanced up at Jack who was crouched down beside Rob. “You know these stupid processes take forever.”
He nodded, ran a hand through his hair. “Are mom and dad still around?”
