by TJ Klune
He rolls his eyes up, like he’s trying to look at it. “Ah, yeah, man. Gnarly, right? It’s to keep the sweat out of my eyes. Thanks for the compliment. Far out.”
I frown. “That wasn’t a com—”
“Megan,” Otter says, shoving past me like an asshole. “How are you? Everything good?” His hands are on her stomach, and she’s laughing quietly. “They’re okay, right?”
“They’re fine,” she says. “I think they’re sleeping now. They were kicking up a storm earlier.”
“They were?” he says, sounding awed. “Do you… do you think they’ll wake up and do it again?”
Even I was feeling a little shocked at the thought. Our kids. Moving. It was either going to be amazing or a retread of the plot of Alien, and I don’t know if I’m excited or horrified.
“Maybe,” Megan says. “I think I even saw the shape of a foot on my stomach.”
Horrified. Definitely horrified.
Otter glances back at me, beaming. “Did you hear that? A foot, Bear. A foot.”
I nod tightly, knowing that if I opened my mouth, I ran the risk of vomiting in front of my husband, the woman infected with my super sperm, and this… drifter… that had somehow followed Megan to Lamazing Grace.
Which I still hate with a fiery passion that threatens to consume me.
“He calls you Daddy, huh?” the homeless drifter asks. “That’s righteous. No kink shaming here. Love is love, you know? You just gotta believe.”
I dig my wallet out of my back pocket and find a couple of dollars. “Here you are, sir,” I say, stepping forward and handing him the money. “Buy yourself a sandwich or something.”
“Whoa,” he says. “Awesome. Thanks, man. You’re pretty all right.” He rolls the cash up and places it under his headband. He doesn’t seem to have… pockets, in the tiny shorts he’s wearing. Which leave nothing to the imagination. And it’d be attractive, if I was into pasty chicken legs.
“Bear, what are you doing?” Otter asks with clenched teeth.
“Um, giving this nice homeless man some money so he can eat? Don’t be rude, Otter. He looks like he’s starving.”
Otter groans.
“This is Marty,” Megan says, sounding amused. “My boyfriend.”
I blink. “What.”
“Nice to finally meet you guys,” Marty says easily, his grin sunny and bright. “Thanks for getting Megan all swollen with your babies. Twins, even. It’s done wonders for our own sex life, you know?”
No.
No, no, no, no—
“STOP STARING at him,” Otter growls as we follow them into Lamazing Grace, the doors whooshing open, manufactured air rolling over us.
“I can’t help it,” I snap back. “His entire existence bothers me. And he’s having sex with our children.”
A woman gasps as we pass her by.
“He’s joking,” Otter tells her hastily. “It’s not what you think.”
She glares at us.
“Don’t be rude,” I say. “Also, congratulations on your pregnancy. You’re positively glowing.”
She glares a little less after that.
“That’s Marty, though?” I whisper to Otter while Marty and Megan check in at the front desk. “He looks like he probably has a bong named Terry.”
“Do you think he’s a hippie?” Otter asks. “You know how I feel about hippies.”
“God, you’re so fucking weird sometimes. Yes, I know how you feel about hippies. I don’t know why you feel anything about hippies other than disdain, but that’s another thing we can discuss later. He looks like he bought his shorts at Baby Gap.”
“Maybe that’s an in thing, now,” Otter says. “We’re old. We don’t know what the kids are wearing these days.”
“Okay, grandpa.”
“I’m serious.”
“Hi, Serious, I’m—”
“Bear.”
“You did this to me. You’re the one that’s—hiiiiii, Megan.”
“Everything all right?” she asks.
“Of course,” Otter says. “We’re just discussing… stuff.”
“If you’re sure,” she says. “And listen, I know that Marty can be a little….”
“Stoned?” I supply helpfully.
“Not today,” she says. Then her eyes widen. “And never during a pregnancy. We both agree that when we give life to others, our bodies are our temples.”
“That… doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” she says, reaching out and squeezing my arm. “He’s really good at what he does.”
“I really didn’t need to hear that.”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean with leading the classes. He’s really stepped up to—”
“Hold on, back up.”
She takes a step back.
Jesus Christ. “I didn’t mean literally. What do you mean by leading the classes?”
Her smile is a little puzzled. And adorable. God, is she adorable. “Marty leads the Lamaze and yoga class we’re about to take. When I went through my first surrogacy, he fell in love with the vibe at Lamazing Grace and decided he wanted to become an instructor. Now he leads three classes a week. Isn’t that wonderful? He’s also training to become a doula. Not many men do that.”
Otter immediately slaps a hand over my mouth. “That’s great. Can you excuse us for a second?”
“Of course. I’ll head into the studio we’re using. It’s the second door on the right. We start in five minutes. Don’t be late. Marty won’t give you the Sunshine Point of Arriving on Time if you’re late.”
I try not to scream against Otter’s hand.
“We’ll be there,” he says, fingers tightening on my face.
“Is Bear all right? He’s turning really red.”
“He’s just so excited to be here,” Otter tells her. “Can barely contain himself.” He waits until she’s turned toward the studio before he drags me away from all the other pregnant couples who have started to gather.
“We need to take Megan and run,” I gasp as soon as he drops his hand. “Keep her safe until the babies are born and then we can give her back.”
“You need to give him a chance,” Otter says sternly. “They wouldn’t let him in front of a class full of pregnant women if he didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“We’re not going to kidnap Megan and hold her against her will.”
“Well, when you say it like that, of course it sounds bad—”
“It’s going to be fine,” he says. “You know it is. Stop looking for troubles where there are none.”
“Okay. But the moment he starts making things weird, we are leaving.”
“THANK YOU, everyone, for showing up on time! You have all been awarded one Sunshine Point for Arriving on Time. If, at the end of the class, you’ve accrued six Sunshine Points, you may turn them in for a hug and a yogurt parfait with chopped walnuts. Oh, who am I kidding, you’ll get those anyway, because what do we say here at Lamazing Grace?”
“Hugs are love!” most everyone chants around us.
“Bear, sit down.”
“He made it weird.”
Otter tugs me back onto the mat.
IT’S NOT—okay, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Sure, Marty is ridiculous, and I couldn’t care less about the goddamn Sunshine Points. And hell, the breathing part of it is all right, learning that the whole hee hoooo thing you see on TV and movies is pretty much bullshit. It’s all about the deep breaths, the parasympathetic breathing to help relax, to slow each breath, to drop your heart rate and blood pressure. I’d always thought it was just a dumb thing that was meant to be a distraction for women in labor, but it’s actually starting to make sense.
And yes, Megan is a pro at it. She’s diligent and watchful, listening as if it’s her first time she’s ever been in the class. She, of course, ends up getting fifteen Sunshine Points by the time she’s done. “I’m going
to destroy that yogurt parfait,” she tells us, eyes dancing.
The other couples in the class seem to be just as into it as Megan is, following along like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do.
And Marty isn’t… so bad. I mean, if you ignore basically everything about him. He’s happy doing what he’s doing, and he seems to be all right at it.
But it’s not any of that, really, that I seem to focus on.
It’s Otter. And how serious he’s taking all of this.
He’s sitting behind Megan, her back to his chest, and breathing in deeply when instructed. He’s got his tongue stuck out between his teeth, looking a little like Izzie does when she’s really concentrating. He’s watching Marty closely, taking every instruction to heart.
He’s good at this.
He’s really good at this.
Why wouldn’t he be? Otter Thompson throws himself into everything. He’s never backed down, not really, not when it’s counted. And this is something that he wants, something he’s been waiting for. It took me a long time to get my head out of my ass, to finally want something just for us, and he was so patient with me. He knew I’d get there one day, and now here we are.
He must feel me staring at him, because he looks over at me and smiles. “Am I doing it right?”
“Yeah,” I tell him hoarsely. “You’re doing it right.”
He frowns a little. “Are you okay?”
“It happens,” Megan tells him, tipping her head back. “The daddies get a little emotional. He’s having feelings right now.”
“And that means you get a Sunshine Point for the Power of Love,” Marty singsongs as he skips by me.
Goddamn right I do.
AFTER THE class, Megan is doing exactly what she threatened to do: she’s destroying her yogurt parfait while Marty gives out hugs to everyone. Otter and I are sitting at the table across from her, wide-eyed, like we’re on an African safari and witnessing a lion taking down a gazelle. I don’t know that I can ever eat a yogurt parfait again. Which is probably a good thing, seeing as how Megan would probably tackle me for it.
“So good,” she mumbles.
“It certainly looks like it,” Otter says politely.
“Would you like some?” she asks, holding the spoon out to us.
“I don’t want to lose my hand,” I tell her before Otter kicks me underneath the table.
She shrugs and gets back to it.
“My love, my light,” Marty says, coming to sit next to Megan. He kisses her on the cheek. “Mmm. Peach flavored. How fascinating it is that you normally hate peaches.”
“I ate asparagus and peanut butter for dinner last night,” Megan tells us.
“Oh,” Otter says. “That’s—”
“Disgusting,” I say.
“Hormones,” Marty says. “The body’s chemicals are all out of whack and can lead to some… surprising discoveries. It’s pretty radical how the body reacts during a pregnancy. It’s a crazy thing to witness up close.”
I’m convinced he’s making that sexual, and I have to resist the urge to reach over and punch him in the ear.
“Are you guys getting excited?” he asks us as he pulls Megan’s feet into his lap, beginning to massage them. “I’m sure you get that question a lot.”
“We do,” Otter says, scratching the back of his neck. “But—yeah, we are. It’s different? I guess. Than we thought it would be.”
“How so?”
“Well, we are having two instead of one,” I say wryly. “That’s a big difference.”
“Right,” Marty says, and Megan sighs as he pushes his thumb into the arch of her foot. I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable. “I think that was a surprise to all of us. The human body is a gift that keeps on giving. And when you bring your semen into the mix, the results are explosive.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s…. I don’t know what that is.”
“Bear says he has super sperm,” Otter adds helpfully.
“I should think so,” Marty says. “Megan says you don’t want to know the sex of the super-secret surprise baby either.”
“Super-secret surprise baby,” Otter chokes out. “Holy hell.”
I glare at Marty. “Do you know?”
“Nope,” he says easily. “Just about the boy. Like you guys do.”
“My doctor and I are the only ones,” Megan says, eyes closed. “I made him leave the room so he wouldn’t hear.”
“That way, we’ll all be surprised,” Marty says. “I tried to convince Megan to consider a water birth, but she thought that might be too much for you.”
“Water birth?” Otter asks.
“It’s magical. The mother spends the final hours of her labor submerged in a birthing pool filled with warm water. Everything comes out and floats, and it’s just a beautiful thing to witness.”
“That might be too much,” I say with a strangled voice.
“We’ll save that for our own,” Megan says.
“By then, I’ll be a certified doula,” Marty says. “I’ll build the birthing pool myself as a testament to my love for her and as a display of my virility. Then, once she’s ready, I will bathe her in the birthing juice that’s—”
“Don’t scare them,” Megan admonishes lightly. “I told you how Bear gets.”
Marty squints at me. “He does look pale.”
“I’m fine,” I say faintly.
Otter puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “You plan on having your own after this?” he asks, changing the subject like the amazing man that he is.
“Yes,” Marty says, rubbing Megan’s heel. “In a couple of years, it’ll be our turn.”
“Why do you do this?” I ask him, suddenly curious. “Both of you?”
“Do what?”
“All of this. The classes. Becoming a doula. Being a surrogate. Dating a surrogate. And wow, I didn’t mean that how that sounded. Of course you can date a surrogate. I didn’t mean—”
Both he and Megan laugh. “It’s all right, Bear,” she says. “I get what you’re trying to say. And I do this because I want to give couples something they can’t get themselves, for whatever reason. Maybe the woman can’t conceive. Maybe the couple is gay. Just because they can’t have children on their own doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to be a parent.”
“It’s pretty gnarly, right?” Marty says, smiling at her. “Pregnancy and birth. The female body goes through so many changes during the months before birth. And we want to be able to give that joy to others.” He narrows his eyes as he looks at us. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because we wanted a kid,” I say. Because obviously.
“Is that it?”
Otter’s arm tightens around me. “Partially,” he says. “But it’s also—we had a strange family growing up. Things weren’t always easy. For us. For others. Mistakes were made. Bad things happened. But we survived. We made it through everything. And there came a point where I wanted to be able to pass on all we learned. To let Bear see that he deserved more. To maybe have a chance to be happier than we’d ever been.”
“You thought all of that?” I ask him weakly.
“Well, yeah,” he says, looking down at me. “I just want everything with you.”
I kiss him because I couldn’t not after hearing that.
“Oh my god,” Marty breathes from across the table. “You two are glorious.”
“I told you they were great,” Megan says, sounding smug. “They are the best people I’ve—oh.”
Otter and I break apart, startled.
Megan’s frowning, looking down at her stomach. She slowly pulls her feet from Marty’s lap, and her brow furrows a little bit.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, panic starting to rise, because no, no, it’s not fair if something goes wrong now, it’s not fair—
She looks up at him, smiling softly. “Your children are awake. They’re kicking. Want to feel?”
“What?” Otter croaks out, and he’s shaking.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Marty says. “Bear, Otter, come around to this side of the table so we don’t have to make Megan move.”
For a moment, both of us are still frozen. And then we’re scrambling up, almost knocking each other to the floor. We’re around the table and on our knees in front of her before I realize what exactly is happening.
Otter reaches up, but then he hesitates, like he’s unsure he has permission to touch. Megan rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, placing it on the left side of her stomach. “Just wait a minute,” she says. “It’ll happen.”
We’re silent then.
There’s a beat, and two, and three, and—
I know the moment he feels it. The moment he feels one of our kids moving in Megan’s stomach. It starts with his lip, the bottom of which trembles before his mouth drops open. It moves up his face in a flush before it hits his eyes, which widen to the point where they’re almost bulging. A sound comes out of his mouth that sounds almost wounded, and then his gaze finds mine and he says, “Bear.”
My hand is on top of his then, my fingers going between his, and there’s nothing, there is nothing, there’s—
A push, back up against us.
It’s stronger than I thought it would be. It startles me, and I almost fall backward, but Otter’s got his arm around my waist, holding me up, and it’s there again, another push, and I don’t know what it is, if it’s a foot or a hand or what, but it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my life.
There’s blood rushing in my ears, but I can still hear Otter murmuring next to me, saying, “Hi, babies, it’s your daddy and your papa, and you’re here, aren’t you? You’re here, and we can feel you. We can feel you. Oh my god, we can feel you. We can’t wait to meet you. We are so happy you’re almost here.”
No one says a damn word about how choked he sounds.
We stay there for the longest time.
10. Where Bear Gets Advice About His Sex Life
JULY ROLLS in, hot and sticky, a rare heat wave smothering the coast for weeks. It feels like the days are just crawling by, the date scrawled on the calendar (!!!!!SEPTEMBER 18!!!!!) still looking so far away. We keep being told that it’ll be here before we know it, but we’re getting anxious.
