by Rune Skelley
“Valentine’s Day is for lovers,” Fin said. “If you want, I’ll put on some Barry White and you can try to seduce Rook’s Mac.”
“You don’t have any Barry White.”
Rook ran her hands down over the dress, pressing her belly flat. In the four days since the ultrasound she spent a lot of time thinking about the images she saw on the screen, both the baby and the spinning coin, and she still didn’t know what she wanted to do. “Does this make me look pregnant?”
Fin shook his head. “It makes you look sexy. I remember peeling it off you and dropping it on the floor.” He added coyly, “And then I fucked you.”
Rook felt herself blush.
A car horn tooted outside.
“That’s probably the cab,” said Fin. “I’ll have it wait while you finish up.” He left the room.
Rook picked up her eyeliner and makeup mirror, intent on making her eyes so flawless no one would notice she even had a stomach.
When she finished she said goodbye to Vesuvius and hurried down to the waiting cab.
During the short drive, Fin nibbled on her neck and made her giggle. The cab stopped in a residential neighborhood. Fin paid and then they stood in the driveway of a dark and abandoned Chez Tanner. Rook looked at him quizzically.
Fin offered his elbow. He led her down the sidewalk away from the house, scooped her up, and carried her across the snow and into the trees. He stood her on her high heels beside the bomb shelter.
He opened the hatch. “Ladies first.”
Rook shook her head and started down the ladder. What in the world was he planning? When she got to the bottom her mouth fell open.
The entire shelter was neat and tidy, the bunks made, the garbage all cleared away. The table was set for dinner. A single red rose lay across one of the plates. She could smell chicken roasting. Red and white crepe paper streamers adorned the ceiling and trailed along the walls in long spirals. Inflatable Sally in her housedress sat demurely in the corner holding a heart-shaped box undoubtedly containing chocolates.
Fin closed the hatch and climbed down to stand beside Rook.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered.
Rook knew she was grinning like an idiot.
Fin pulled out his lighter and lit the two candles on the table. He made a circuit of the shelter, lighting a dozen tea-lights.
“It’s amazing,” Rook said, and turned off the overhead light.
They took off their coats and Fin swept her into a kiss.
“I wanted to give you the honeymoon we never had,” he said. “This seemed like the right place.”
Down here she and Fin first felt their mental connection, the biggest factor in convincing them to marry so quickly. That alone made it the perfect place. Rook closed her eyes and enjoyed his hum, all but unsullied by traces of Kyle.
“Can we spend the night?”
“Better. I have a few days off. And I talked Lara into covering your shift tomorrow. We have the whole weekend.”
“Can we be naked the whole time?” Rook asked, her desire hot enough to melt her panties.
“After dinner.” He kissed her, then went to the small oven. “I’d be afraid of burning myself otherwise.”
Over dinner they flirted shamelessly, but after the meal Fin turned serious.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about our situation.” His deep green eyes searched her face. “I don’t want to be just another man who lets you down.”
Rook smiled tentatively.
Maintaining eye contact Fin went on, “I love you, Rook. I’ll support you no matter what you choose. If you want an abortion, I’ll help you through that. If you want to have the baby, I’ll be its father. No matter what.”
Rook’s smile broadened. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. With a shrug he said, “It’s not like you’ll be able to tell by looking who the father is.”
“Very pragmatic,” she said in mock-seriousness.
“Thank you.”
“I love you Fin. Will you take me to bed now?”
He kissed her for a long time before peeling her dress off and dropping it on the floor.
*** *** ***
Willow asked Brad what he wanted for lunch, and the question had most of his circuits occupied when the doorbell rang.
“It’s Fin and Rook!” he exclaimed. He opened the door and waved them in.
“Hello, kids,” Willow said as she came into the living room.
“Hi, Mom,” Fin said, intercepting her to give her a warm hug. Rook gave Brad a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.
Everyone stood around awkwardly for a moment or two. Brad detected the awkwardness after it was pretty well established, busy as he was puzzling over the handsome young couple.
“Why don’t we all go to the kitchen,” he suggested. “Wil and I were discussing lunch.”
A few minutes later, they sat in the breakfast nook with peanut butter sandwiches.
Rook gazed up at the ceiling, then nudged Fin, who nodded and poked at his sandwich. She stared at him for a few seconds and nudged him again. Fin sighed.
“We came over to ask for your help,” he began. Brad thought he must have misheard, the idea of Fin admitting he needed anything from anyone was so farfetched. “We did a lot of talking recently. And we decided some stuff. But, well, we don’t know where to start.”
“Just start at the beginning,” Willow coaxed.
Fin smiled. “No, what I mean is, we don’t know how to get started, which is why we need help.” Rook nudged him again. “Brad, we need your help. To buy a house.”
Brad felt pride and shock in equal doses.
Fin hastened to clarify. “We don’t expect you to buy it for us, we’ll pay for it.”
Brad nodded, but he wondered if they knew what they were getting into. Did Fin think they could live for free if they found a place he could pay for outright from his trust fund? His initial surprise was replaced by worry about the depth of the hole they might dig for themselves.
“Thing is, like I said, we don’t know where to start. Who to talk to. Who to trust. We hoped you could introduce us to a real estate person, or someone at the bank who can help us.” Fin looked Brad in the eye, for a second. Then he studied his intact PBJ with great care.
“I can put you in touch with the right agent,” Brad said. Someone I hope won’t give you enough rope to hang yourself.
“We kinda need a car, too,” Fin told his sandwich.
Brad thought that sounded like a much better place to start. Fin’s expression darkened, so he must have seen Brad’s look of relief. “Okay, sure. I can give you some advice there,” Brad assured in his most serious voice.
“Thank you,” Fin said, momentarily making eye contact again to convey his sincerity.
“This seems like a lot of growing up to do all at once,” Brad observed.
“Well, um, yeah.”
Fin turned to Rook, who wore a peculiar look made from most of a smile and part of a frown. She furtively wiped her cheek, and Fin laid his arm around her shoulders. They kissed, paused, kissed some more. Brad wondered where he was supposed to look while his semi-estranged son and stunning daughter-in-law made out in the breakfast nook. After a few seconds they stopped, and Rook nodded.
“We’re having a baby,” Fin announced.
For a moment all was stunned silence. Willow exclaimed, “Wonderful!” Everyone laughed except Zen, who bawled in her crib. Willow jumped up, saying, “Wait until I get back. I want to hear everything.”
While Willow was out of the room, Brad smiled at Fin and Rook in nervous silence.
The two of them put up a buoyant front, but Brad suspected that was all it was. Underneath their happy bravado he detected cold terror. Nothing about their current lifestyle was compatible with parenthood. At least they recognized that, but were they ready for so much change?
Like father, like son. Racing into a relationship, escalating it to marriage and parenthood without giving themselves a chance to grow toget
her. At least when Brad did all this, he was completing a graduate degree and starting a stable career. On the other hand, Fin knocked up only one young lady. And married her first.
Brad hoped for the best, because it was all he could do.
Zen’s shrill protests stopped, and Willow’s voice preceded her return, soothing the infant. “You should be sleeping, I think, but you want Mommy. Since Mommy wants to talk to these people, Zen needs to wake up. Or, maybe she can cuddle up on Mommy’s lap and sleep some more? How would that be?” Willow resumed her seat beside Brad, bouncing Zen on her knee. To the adults, she said, “Tell us everything! Well, not everything, but you know what I mean.”
Fin shrugged nervously. “Well, Rook thought she might be pregnant, and we got an appointment and found out how far along we are. Four months.” A strange, fleeting look passed between them.
“I’m due July 7.” Rook didn’t look like she believed it yet.
“It was unexpected,” Fin admitted, and they exchanged another mysterious glance.
Brad felt relieved to hear it was unplanned. Anything else would suggest these two might be idiots. He held out hope that they were merely crazy. Rook didn’t give off what Brad would call a maternal vibe, but she had proved to be a good influence on Fin.
“Here,” Willow chirped, producing a possibly sleeping baby from her lap like something from a magic act and holding her out toward Rook.
Rook looked at Zen the way she might a rattlesnake. “Oh, but I don’t know about...”
Willow swung around the end of the table and bestowed the tiny girl into Rook’s arms, too suddenly for any response other than holding the baby. Rook’s eyes were twice their normal size.
“You’re a natural.” Willow said as she sat back down. She winked at Brad.
“I have a question for you, though,” Brad said to Fin, startling him. “How do you plan to support your beautiful family?”
The answer would certainly involve his band, at which point the conversation would turn awkward.
“I have a job interview tomorrow,” Fin said. His tone added, “Sir.”
Brad nodded. “Outstanding! What sort of work?”
“It’s at a new place that does web design. I know someone there, he used to work at Sycamore. I think I have a good shot.”
“Well, good luck with it.” Brad wanted Fin to have more than luck. He had to give this new family a chance, even if it meant burning his own capital. “Let me know if you need references.”
“Thanks, that might come in handy as a matter of fact.”
Rook was still staring at the baby she held, but the panic had departed her eyes. Now she was fascinated.
This news from Fin and Rook was both worrying and welcome. Brad missed his visits with Kyle, now that Melissa had discharged him. The chance to help these kids made Brad feel needed again.
He caught Willow’s gaze and they raised their eyebrows at each other. Their world would soon be full of babies. He couldn’t quite shake the thought that he and Willow might end up raising Fin’s.
*** *** ***
One by one the gritty molecules of Kyle wend their way through the gelatinous atmosphere to fuse, with a rapturous jolt, to Rook. Given enough time, her sensual gravity of need will collect enough grains to heal him.
The bubbles of light frolic in excitement, casting prismatic shadows. Their movement hinders Kyle’s progress, but every time a piece of him touches one, it imparts knowledge.
Rook is pregnant.
Not this Rook, but the real one.
Kyle is suddenly drowning in the awareness his wife is pregnant by another man, his nemesis, his brother.
Their enormous sense of pride lends the bubbles a golden tint.
The Divided Man is now truly Complete.
The realization that this mind knows his name, his function, fills Kyle with renewed self-importance. When he is healed, he will find the Completer and Complete himself upon her.
For the Completer to carry out her function, both halves of the Divided Man must be Complete. They are.
Confusion ripples through Kyle’s dispersed psyche.
The trickiest part was arranging for the Completer to mate with both halves of the Divided Man in the space of just a few hours.
Is it twins?
A rosy pink wave of nostalgic pleasure washes through the bubbles at the thought of twins.
Better. Two fathers. One mother. One child. Twins in one body. The chimera child is the culmination of generations of work.
Both he and Fin are the father of Rook’s baby. Consternation pricks at Kyle.
Neither half alone could have accomplished this task.
This assertion angers Kyle.
The bubbles of light continue their giddy dance, oblivious.
With the Completer’s sisters removed, there is no danger of the chimera child being lost.
The colossal mind’s plan will move forward.
Another molecule of Kyle’s scattered being fuses with Rook. His plan will move forward, too.
Part Two
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MID-CENTURY MODERN
2 Bedroom ranch on half acre in Hemlock Heights neighborhood.
This mid-century charmer has a lot of potential and is the perfect starter home for a handyman family! Two cozy bedrooms and two baths feature tons of retro charm.
from Webster Daily Press real estate supplement
At Goodwill, the chess table didn’t seem heavy, but after lugging it six blocks through the mid-April damp Fin regretted not going back for it with the car.
Another block-and-a-half and he’d be home.
Home these days was an actual single-family house. For over a week he and Rook had been homeowners. The search was disheartening at first, with an endless parade of cookie-cutter townhouses and uninspiring ranch boxes in ‘young-family’ neighborhoods. Once Fin took the job at Binary Images, they were able to raise their budget.
Their diamond in the rough was a small mid-century modern with a flat roof, drafty floor-to-ceiling windows, two bedrooms, a tiny office that might have once been a large closet, flagstone flooring in the open living area, a stone fireplace wall, and a carport. The landscaping long ago went feral, but that was okay. The overgrowth gave them privacy.
Much of the mid-century charm was hidden under a disastrously thorough 70s decorating scheme, but the lack of updating allowed Fin and Rook to afford it.
As housewarming gifts, Brad and Willow gave them a microwave and Zen gave them a lawnmower. Fin and Brad did some father/son bonding over ripping the aqua and avocado shag carpeting out of the bedrooms.
Other than a new king-size bed and a sofa from the thrift store, they made do with furniture from Fin’s room at the boarding house and scavenged from the bomb shelter. That gave them four gorgeous Eames bentwood dining chairs, but no table. For now the chairs were lined up forlornly along the wall like nerds at a school dance.
The house felt empty. Every day this week on his lunch hour Fin visited thrift shops, scouting for things to surprise Rook with. Mostly kitchenwares so far, along with a few baby things, so the chess table today was a welcome change. Fin lusted after it the minute he saw it. He missed playing chess with Rook.
Apart from being really goddamn heavy, the thing was a gorgeously tacky piece of art. Fin kept reminding himself of that as he made his way the last half block, the copper legs biting into his fingers.
Inside their entry courtyard, Fin stood the table beside the stagnant koi pond and flexed his hands a few times before letting himself into the house. It would be an hour before Rook got home from the library. Plenty of time to clean up the table and start dinner.
Fin placed his prize in the dining room beside the cafe table where the lava lamp lived. “Hey, Vesuvius, look what I got.”
“Please tell me that thing’s not for me.”
Vesuvius’s dismissive attitude stung. “Do you think Rook will like it?”
“Hard to say.”
&nbs
p; “Why’s that?”
“Well... You want her to like it, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then I think she’ll like it.”
“You’re not much help today. What’s gotten into you?”
“Sorry.”
Fin concluded Vesuvius was jealous of the new arrival.
From the narrow kitchen he retrieved a roll of paper towels, cleanser, and a bucket of warm water, and began to wipe down his treasure.
Waist-high, with six verdigris copper legs and an oval ebony top, the table was also filthy. Through the generous application of elbow grease, Fin removed years of neglect and uncovered a deep green undertone to the finish. He took special care with the reversible top. The plain side had a band of mother of pearl inside the lipped edge, with small patches missing.
The chess side was what made Fin buy it before anyone could snake him. The board was inlaid stone, cool and slick. The greenish tint made Fin think it was jade. The borders of the playing field were bowed to mimic the oval shape of the table, creating an optical illusion that twisted the brain just right. It would be so fucking fun to play chess on.
Concealed under the top was a storage compartment for the playing pieces, upholstered with cracked green leather. It held a threadbare velvet bag. At Goodwill, Fin peeked inside to make sure it went with the table, and saw chess pieces. Now it was time to find out if he had a full set.
Damp paper towel in hand, Fin pulled pieces out of the bag and cleaned them as he placed them on the board.
He shook his head and smiled.
“I don’t remember your other set having a metal top hat,” deadpanned Vesuvius.
“That’s from a different game. The iron, too,” Fin explained as he lifted them off the board and put them back in the bag.
It was like someone scavenged yard sales, culling loose game tokens from the crap left at the end of the day.
The only pieces matching the table were black: a bishop, a rook, four pawns, and the king. They were wonderfully detailed figures, the pawns two inches tall, the rest about three. The remainder of the black army consisted of a wooden queen, two glass knights, a marble rook, a plastic bishop, three plastic pawns, and three pawns from a Civil War chess set, for a total of 10 pawns.
