by TJ Klune
“I don’t tell dad jokes,” Otter grumbles as he comes into the kitchen. He kisses me on the forehead and goes to pour himself more coffee. It’s early yet, and we still have to drive to Eugene to meet with Megan and her boyfriend to go to a Lamaze class, something I am convinced is a disaster in the making.
“You texted me yesterday that part of a tree fell on your car,” Creed says. “And then you texted me a picture of a leaf on the hood.”
“Why?” I moan, putting my head down on the table.
“It was funny,” Otter insists.
“That’s your husband,” Creed says. “Good job not letting that one get away. JJ, if you put that fork in the socket, God is going to be very upset with you and will cancel Voltron.”
“He will?” JJ asks, eyes wide.
“Yes. And also probably Netflix.”
“But—but that’s rude.”
“So is the reaction your mother will have if I allow you to electrocute yourself. Stop it.” Creed sips his coffee and grins at AJ, who now has Cheerios stuck to his cheeks. “God, I can’t wait for school to start again. Make him the teacher’s problem.”
“Thanks,” I say wryly. “Really. Your support is tremendous.”
“Right? You’re welcome. Speaking of, how’s that going to work? Don’t you have to start administrative shit in August?”
Otter sits down next to me as I make a face. “Yeah. And I’ll be going back and working up until Megan gives birth. I get twelve weeks’ paternity leave, but then I’ll have to go back.”
“I’ll be staying home for now,” Otter says.
Creed grins. “Stay-at-home dad? Rock on. I can dig it. Annnnd you’re frowning, Bear.”
“He’s not very happy about it,” Otter says, patting my hand as I pout. “He wants to have longer, but we can’t afford for him to take the school year off, especially if there is no guarantee that he’ll pick up another contract next year. I mean, we can afford it, but it’s better to plan ahead.”
“Oh, dude,” Creed breathes. “Trust me. You will be begging to go back by the time those twelve weeks are up. Just wait until your kid accidentally shits on your hands. You will be running back to your job.”
“Dad says I was very expressive with my bowels,” JJ says, lying on the floor for reasons I don’t quite understand.
“We thought he was broken,” Creed agrees. “Like, just leaking or something. I told Anna that we should call a plumber, because it’d be cheaper. She didn’t think that was very funny.”
“Mom says that Dad’s humor is a detriment to society,” JJ says.
“Yeah,” Creed says. “We just love each other a lot.”
“It’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m lucky that I even get those twelve weeks. And Otter will do well.”
“And if you have questions, you know you can always ask me,” Creed says. “You know I’m an expert by now. I’ve got this shit locked down—JJ, do not reach down the garbage disposal. You know that Jesus will curse you and all your teeth will fall out if you do. He is always watching you.”
“Jesus is so creepy,” JJ mutters, but he pulls his hand out of the sink.
“I am not practically married,” Ty snaps, coming in from the living room. He’s scowling at the laptop he’s carrying in his hands. “Just because I live with my boyfriend doesn’t mean—”
“Ah, marital bliss,” a voice says from the screen.
Tyson growls at it and sets it on the table in front of Otter and me. “You deal with her, because I am not awake enough for this.”
Kori Ellis grins at us from the screen, her hair curling around her shoulders, looking remarkably put-together for it only being half past eight in the morning on a Saturday. “Why hello there,” she says, leaning toward the camera. “I do believe there are a pair of DILFs on my screen, and I didn’t even have to put my credit card number in.”
“Hi, Kori.” Otter grins a little at the attention.
“What about me?” Creed asks. “They don’t even have a kid yet. I already have two.”
Kori flutters her eyelashes. “There are three of you there? My oh my. What is a girl to do with all of that? I know. First things first. Otter, take off your shirt and play with your—”
“Hi, Kori!” JJ says, pushing between Otter and me, waving at the computer screen.
“Fantasy ruined,” Kori says with a wide smile. “JJ, how nice of you to barge in.”
“So gross,” Ty mutters as he munches on some granola bar that looks like it was made from chopped-up vegans.
“Please,” Kori scoffs. “It’s not my fault that your family is all made up of hot dads. Seriously. It makes my loins quiver.”
“What does that mean?” JJ asks.
“It means that Kori needs to find herself a special friend instead of telling my son about it,” Creed says, eating a Cheerio that had been stuck to AJ’s ear.
“Oh, she has, though,” the Kid says, sounding rather gleeful at the prospect. “She’s just not doing a damn thing about it.”
“Really?” Otter says, leaning forward.
And wonder of all wonders, Kori is blushing, like she’s been caught. “No,” she sputters. “Tyson is just projecting, like he is known to do. There is absolutely nothing happening.”
“It’s her former professor,” Ty says. “Kori’s got a lady-boner for him and refuses to admit it.”
“That’s not what’s happening,” Kori says with a scowl. “You don’t get to—”
“That’s pretty much what’s happening,” another voice says. And then a man is leaning down into the frame over the back of the couch Kori is sitting on. He’s heavier, with dark hair and blue eyes, wearing what looks to be biking shorts that are leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Oh no,” Tyson breathes from somewhere behind me.
“This is going to be the greatest moment of my life,” Kori whispers fervently, eyes wide.
“Hey,” the man says. “I’m Paul. Paul Auster.”
“Oh,” I say. “Ty’s told us about you. You just got married, right? Congratulations.”
“Thanks. You Tyson’s brother? Bear? You guys are having twins?”
“Yeah. That’s us.”
“Great to meet you, and good for you. Sorry for interrupting. Just wanted you all to know that Kori is full of shit, and she’s pining for her teacher.”
“Good to meet you too.”
“Later,” he says, pulling away from the screen. I hear him hollering at something called Wheels for crapping all over Sandy’s floor, and how is he supposed to go get sweaty on a stupid bike ride with that smell in his nose?
“He seems nice,” I say.
“Oh thank god,” Ty says, sighing in relief.
“That was it?” Kori demands. “I have been waiting years for this moment, and that was it?”
“What is she talking about?” I ask Otter.
“I have no idea,” Otter says.
“You ruin things,” Kori hisses at me. “Tyson! Take me away from their faces. I no longer wish to gaze upon them! Oh, and I’m so happy for you guys. You’re going to be awesome dads. Now get out of my sight! Otter, I love you and your biceps.”
“We love you too,” Otter says. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Never,” she says, grinning wickedly.
“So wrong,” Tyson groans, lifting the laptop up off the table. “Why do you have to do that?”
“Don’t forget you’re with Izzie today,” I call after him as he leaves the kitchen.
“I know. It’s why I’m here instead of still in bed with my boyfriend like a normal person!”
“Mouthy little fucker, isn’t he?” Creed says fondly.
“Yeah,” JJ says. “He is a mouthy little fucker.”
Creed sighs. “Okay, what do I have to buy you to make sure you never tell your mom about that?”
“A shark!” JJ shouts.
“This is what you have to look forward to,” Creed tells us. “Just so you know, this is going to
be your life. Except your kids are going to have some freaky murderous twin language, and you’ll wake up in the middle of the night, years down the road, with both of them standing above you holding pairs of scissors in their hands.”
“Please don’t scare my husband,” Otter says.
“Freaky murderous twin language?” I say, voice high-pitched.
“My job here is done,” Creed announces. “And don’t worry about the baby shower. I’ll plan it. It’ll be awesome.”
“Otter, we have to hide all the scissors!”
Otter lays his head down on the table.
“I’m getting a shark, and he’s going to eat everyone!” JJ crows.
“Buyah!” AJ screams as he throws a Cheerio that somehow lands on my cheek.
“I love you guys,” Creed says.
“—AND THEN what if they grow up to be murder twins? What if twenty years down the road, we have to testify against them in court after they’ve killed and eaten sixteen people to feed their carnal twin rage? What then, Otter? You know the courts are going to find some way to blame me. And then they’ll make a movie based upon our lives and I’ll be played by someone like Anne Hathaway, because you know they’ll make me a woman because American audiences are stupid and can’t handle a stable, loving homo relationship. Stupid fucking America with your guns and your bibles and your men who jack off to lesbian porn, but god forbid there be two men holding hands!”
“Wow,” Otter says. “Just when I think you can’t go places I won’t expect, you end up talking about guys jacking off to lesbians and Anne Hathaway.”
I blink. “That’s what you took away from that?”
“Also, why are our children always murderers when you get like this?”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean when I get like this?”
“I love you,” he says.
“That’s cheating,” I say, scowling at him. “But I love you too.”
“I know. We’re here, by the way.”
I look up and see we’re in the parking lot of a strip mall. “What? How did we get here already? We just left the house.”
“An hour ago,” Otter says. “You’ve been going for an hour.”
“Huh. Well. I have very serious feelings about our kids.”
“I can tell,” he says dryly. “And I think you’re worrying about nothing. We’re not going to have murder twins. Or serial killers with tails.”
“Says you,” I mutter, folding my arms over my chest.
“That’s right. Says me. Now, are you ready to go and learn how to breathe like a pregnant woman?”
Yes, yes I was. We didn’t have to be a part of this. In fact, we were told that we could have as little or as much involvement in our surrogate’s pregnancy as we wanted. I hadn’t expected that and had actually been somewhat horrified at the thought of the couples who didn’t get involved at all. We hadn’t gone to every doctor’s appointment Megan had had, but we’d been at the majority of them. If she needed anything, she knew she could call us, even though we were an hour away. We didn’t want her to be giving us such a gift and going through it alone. I worried initially that she’d think we were too involved, but she laughed when I’d told her that, telling us that she wanted us to be by her side just as much as we thought was right. “I’m doing this for you,” she said. “It’s a gift, you know?”
But today would be the first time we’d be involved in something like a Lamaze class. She’d been going without us, but then she said she thought it’d be good for us to attend a class with other parents too.
Otter and I jumped at the opportunity.
I may have had ulterior motives, though, in that I knew she’d be bringing her boyfriend with her and that we’d be meeting him face to face for the first time. We’d talked with Marty briefly on the phone, but that had been it. I wanted to scope out the man that was sticking it to the woman I’d gotten pregnant with my super sperm.
I told Otter this.
He’d put his face in his hands for a long time.
So yes! We were going to do this. We were going to show the entire world that we would be the most amazing fathers. We were going to—
“—turn this car around right now and go home,” I demand as we stare up at the sign for the building we’re walking toward.
Otter sighs. “It’s supposed to be funny.”
“It’s a pun, Otter.”
“I think it’s funny.”
“That’s because all you do is tell dad jokes now!”
He scowls at me. “I do not.”
I point at the sign for the Lamaze clinic.
Lamazing Grace.
Otter giggles.
He fucking giggles.
“Stop it.”
“That’s pretty genius if you think about it.”
“I’m serious.”
“Hi, Serious. I’m—”
I slap my hand over his mouth, looking around to make sure no one is listening to us. “Don’t you dare. We are in public.”
He rolls his eyes, and because he’s a jerk, he licks my palm.
“Ugh,” I say, pulling my hand away. “You suck.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me. “You don’t usually have a problem with that.”
I gape at him. “Are you hitting on me? In front of a strip mall?”
“I’m your husband. I’m allowed to hit on you anywhere I want.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. My bad.”
“Look, just ignore the amazing sign—”
“Your definition of amazing is seriously skewed.”
“—and we’ll do what we came here to do. Bear, if we’re going to be in the delivery room with Megan, then we’re going to need to know this stuff, remember?”
“Yeah,” I say nervously. “About that. What if it gets… bloody, and I kind of… vomit.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Then we’ll deal with it.” He leans forward and kisses me. “Besides, I don’t think blood and vomit are going to be the worst bodily fluids in there.”
I feel a little queasy. “That’s not helping.” But we both know he’s right. Otter and I had… researched childbirth extensively, even going so far as to watch a few videos online of live births. It was then that I realized women will always be stronger than a man ever could be, given all that they go through. Afterward, I had hugged Anna when I’d seen her next, telling her that I had respect for the power of her genitals and the abilities they had.
She’d punched me in the spleen for that one.
Otter had watched the videos, absolutely fascinated.
I watched with my hands over my eyes, peeking through and seeing things that I could never unsee.
“If you can’t, then you can’t,” Otter says. “And that’s okay. We’ll figure it out. At the very least, Megan says I can record it, so we can watch it later.”
“That might be worse.”
“Unless we play it at their high school graduation party in front of all their friends.”
I stare at him. “Are you being diabolical?”
“One of us has to be if the other is queasy. It’s kind of written into our wedding vows.”
I put my forehead on his shoulder and sigh. “I’m sorry I’m being stupid,” I mumble. “I’m just… getting anxious. About everything.”
“Me too,” he says near my ear. “But it’s a good thing.”
“What if we aren’t ready for everything?”
“I don’t think anyone can be. I mean, look at Creed and Anna. JJ turned out—okay, maybe that’s not the best example.”
That gets to me, and I chuckle against his neck. “They did their best.”
“And we’ll do ours. I just—I’m not worried about us or how we’ll deal with it. Bear, we’re solid, okay? I know that. There is no one I trust more with this than you. Even though it’s big, it’s really big, we’re going to be ready.”
“Then what are you anxious about?” I say, feeling rather warm at his words.
“It’s stupi
d,” he mutters, sounding uncharacteristically shy.
I’m utterly charmed by him. “Nah. Not any stupider than what I say.”
He shrugs, jostling my head. “I’m just—I want to meet them, you know? I want them to be here so I can hold them and look at them. So I can tell them I’m their daddy and you’re their papa, and that we won’t let anything hurt them.”
I smile, because Otter Thompson is one of the best men I know. “I’m Papa, huh? You’re Daddy?”
He sighs, and as I turn my head, I can see his neck is a little red. “You’re already Papa Bear,” he says quietly. “And I… I like how Daddy sounds. And don’t you make that weird. I’m serious.”
“Hi, Serious. I’m Papa Bear.”
His smile is a wondrous thing. “You’re so dumb.”
“Right?”
“So that’s okay?” He shuffles his feet.
I want to climb him like a goddamn tree. In front of a strip mall, for fuck’s sake. “Papa works for me. And you can be Daddy.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I say, kissing the tip of his nose. “Hell, you can be my daddy anytime—”
“No, Bear. Stop. You stop it right now.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
“Shut up,” he hisses at me.
“Why? Don’t you want to be my daddy? That could be—”
“Whoa, babe, you hear that? They’re fucking kinky.”
“Eep,” I say, accidentally knocking my forehead against Otter’s chin. “Ow, motherfucker.”
“Why is your head so large?” Otter grumbles, rubbing his chin.
“Ha, that’s what she said,” the voice behind us says again. “Classic.”
I turn around, and there standing on the sidewalk is a very pregnant Megan Ridley, along with some guy who looks like he rolled out of bed and into a pile of hemp. Megan’s grinning, and the man beside her is squinting at us. He’s got a scraggly beard and wild hair sticking out every which way and—
“Are you wearing a tie-dyed headband?” I blurt out.
