Bet on Us

by MariaLisa deMora

  Jaime laughed, taking a glass of clear, bubbly liquid from Jacob. “We’re up a couple of floors. Now let’s talk about next week.” She sipped and smacked her lips. “Perfect, Jake, thanks. Tomorrow you’re in court, and with everything that’s happened, you said there shouldn’t be any issues, right?”

  “Right. The will ties it all up in a tidy package. But it wouldn’t matter either way; he’s ours now.” Trent stated it firmly, lifting his voice slightly just in case Jericho was listening. “Then we’ve got a couple of days of appointments to finish Stella’s estate.”

  “And then you’re coming to our house. I’ll invite Con’s family over and we’ll do a mini-reunion party.” Jaime mock scowled at him. “No arguments, either. Jake already told me you guys are driving back and have no timeline, so don’t get shifty, buster.”

  Trent held up a hand as he gave her a smile. “Wouldn’t think about it, baby sister. No argument from me.”

  Later, after Jaime and Con left with their kids, and Jericho had retired to his room with the door closed, they were finally lying in bed, alone. There was just enough light seeping in around the curtains for Trent to make out Jacob’s profile, slow blinks of his lids proof he wasn’t able to sleep, either.

  “God, the look on that baby’s face when he watched his mother be buried.” Trent rolled his neck, pressing his cheek tight against Jacob’s chest. “Broke my heart.”

  “Yeah. For me it was at the viewing. I thought he was gonna go down when he first saw her, but he pulled it together. That boy’s strong, stronger than I’d be in the same situation.” Jacob’s voice was tight, filled with emotion. “He’s gonna need help, and we’re gonna be right there beside him, all the way.”

  “Did you catch whatever that conversation was he had with Nate?”

  Jacob scoffed, chest rising and falling with a deep sigh. “No, but Nate texted me some stuff. He said Jericho’s feeling indebted and doesn’t like having the scales out of balance. He included a bunch of links for articles on teenaged grief and how kids process differently than adults.” His hand landed on Trent’s shoulder, fingers tracing up and down the skin of his arm until Trent shivered. “Then he sent me another bunch of links on schools in the Memphis area. My nephew’s not-too-subtle attempt to influence us to move back to Memphis.”

  “He’s such a good kid.”

  “That kid’s going to graduate from college next year. At thirteen. So damn smart, but what I’m always impressed with is his heart. You’re right, he’s a good kid. Con said he’s going to have his pick of graduate programs. Guess they’re falling all over themselves to get a chance at him.” Jacob wrapped his arms around Trent, pulling him close for a moment. “Smart, heart, and got his head on straight. Nate’s something else.”

  “Do you want to move back to Memphis? I know we’ve talked about it in very broad terms. We even talked about it with Jericho. It’s terrifying to think about because we’re serious this time.” Trent relaxed into Jacob’s hold. “I’m not against it because where you go, I go, and that’s all I need, but I know the area has bad memories for you.”

  “It’s got good ones, too.”

  “And your sister.”

  Under Trent’s cheek, Jacob’s heart beat steadily, a dependable cadence that was much like Jacob himself.

  “And James and her crew. God help us.” A chuckle shook Jacob’s chest just before his lips pressed to Trent’s temple. Trent smiled at the fond exasperation in Jacob’s tone. “She’s pregnant. I’m so glad for her and Con.”

  “It’s got surrogacy clinics, too. We know that for sure. We can talk to Con’s brother and see if they liked the one they went through.” Trent’s proclamation was met with silence, and he pulled back, narrowing his eyes to focus on Jacob. “Honey?”

  “I think…babe, I think that’s something we’re going to have to put on hold for now.” Jacob’s eyes were closed, face pointed towards the ceiling, and nothing in his expression gave any indication what he might be thinking.

  “You wanted a baby.” Trent leaned closer, and fingers trailing through the scruff on Jacob’s jaw, he turned Jacob to face him. “We want a baby.”

  “We’ve got our nephew now.” Jacob looked puzzled. “You just said we were going to be busy helping him deal."

  "Well, yeah.” Trent paused, working through the best way to say what he was thinking. “But you’ve been so excited about the whole enchilada. Picking a surrogate, seeing the ultrasounds, being there for the birth. I don’t want you to miss out on anything you wanted.”

  “Trent, it doesn’t matter that Jericho’s older, that’s he’s not an infant or even a toddler. He’s depending on us to be there for him, to make the right decisions for him, and to love him unconditionally.” Jacob turned on his side, facing Trent. “We don’t always get to choose who God puts in our path.” He pushed up on an elbow and placed a hand on Trent’s chest. “He’s given us Jericho, and I am thrilled to be provided such a profound chance to father the boy as best I can. It’s not about having a child as a baby. For me, it’s always been about the opportunity to nurture a being, helping them along and giving them the freedom and space to be the best they can be.” Jacob leaned closer, his expression earnest and open. “Jericho’s needs don’t exclude mine. They’re in alignment.”

  Trent lifted his chin, and Jacob brushed a kiss across his lips.

  “Okay.” He released the word on a sigh, trying unsuccessfully to deepen the kiss.

  Trent felt Jacob’s smile as his lips dusted another caress along Trent’s mouth, giving an amused shake of his head.

  His husband nuzzled the side of his face before pulling back and asking, “Okay? That’s it?”

  With a shrug, Trent nodded. “Yeah, okay. You said it all, I think.” He scowled up at Jacob. “The only thing I wanna know is how can you be so eloquent at times like these, and at other times you think”—he made air quotes with the fingers of one hand—“you communicate the same depth of knowledge with a single ‘babe’? Huh?”

  Jacob’s hand slipped underneath the covers, skating along Trent’s chest to his briefs. Trent closed his eyes as hot fingertips traced the outline of his rapidly hardening cock through the fabric. Then Jacob chuckled, kissed him through the laughter, and murmured a quiet “Babe” against his lips.

  “Oh my Jesus.”

  ***

  Jericho

  Sighing, he cracked one eyelid open and peered at the screen of the phone lying on the hotel room nightstand. Just after midnight, and he was still awake. Jericho flopped onto his back, spreading arms and legs out like a starfish. The bed was so big—and comfortable. Too much so.

  The phone was still a novelty, something he wasn’t yet accustomed to, a gift from Jake. And Trent, he supposed, but it had been Jake who’d disappeared for a time yesterday, coming back with the newest version of a popular model. He’d spent a half hour showing Jericho how to work it, setting his and Trent’s numbers up as favorites.

  Nate had entered his number in, too, taking the device from Jericho and handling it deftly. The years separating them felt like they went the wrong way, with Nate seeming to have so much more experience in everything. He’d never met a smarter kid. The boy was in college for Christ’s sake, and talking to Nate was like having a conversation with an adult. How he looked at things was so matter-of-fact, with everything he said coming out sounding like truth.

  Even when Jericho disagreed with him.

  He knew he had to contribute. It was not only how he’d been raised, but Jericho had never had anything worth losing before, nothing that mattered as much as making certain Trent and Jake didn’t get tired of having him around.

  Still, if Nate was right and they wouldn’t let him quit school to find a job, he’d have to sort out some other way to make himself not only useful, but indispensable.

  Because the other things Nate had told him made Jericho understand how fragile his existence with Trent and Jake was.

  They wanted a baby. Had been workin
g to have one through a clinic in California, so they could adopt.

  But now they’d been saddled with Jericho instead.

  He rolled to his side, curling his knees towards his chest as he tugged the covers up and over his head, creating a darkened cocoon. He shivered, limbs trembling despite the warmth encircling him.

  Why would she keep her own brother a secret?

  Even without asking himself the question, he knew. His mom might have looked sad when Frank was berating Jericho for his shortcomings as a stepson, but the only time she’d left the room was when Frank started in on him about being a pervert. Calling him a deviant, talking about Sodom and pillars of bitter salt, about sins of the flesh, sins against God, giving in to the devil—Frank had a thousand sayings, each accompanied by his belt or his fist.

  It made sense now, because her own brother was gay.

  No wonder she hadn’t bothered defending Jericho.

  His chest hitched, and he pushed his face against the pillow.

  She hated gays. Hated Trent.

  Throat burning, lungs aching for air, Jericho struggled to keep his grief silent.

  Probably hated me.

  The door clicked and he froze, holding in place, not wanting anyone to see him this vulnerable. His body had other ideas, though, and a sob broke free, loud and echoing under the covers.

  “Oh, honey.” Trent’s voice was soft and quiet. “You can’t sleep either?” The bed depressed beside him, covers tightening around Jericho as Trent curled up against his back, surrounding him protectively. Jericho’s good hand gripped the blankets when Trent pulled on them, keeping them overhead. “Okay, then. You stay like that.” Strong arms surrounded him, comforting arms, and Jericho marveled at how he understood in his gut that Trent would protect him against the world. “I’ve got you, baby boy. I’ve got you.”

  The tears flowed, and with burning eyes, Jericho sucked in great gasps of air between sobs, face wet with salt and sweat. He didn’t speak, didn’t have to, because Trent had lost someone, too. He understood.

  It took a long time, but his grief finally waned, ebbing away slowly. Through it all, Trent had kept up a quiet patter of supportive words. Never demanding an answer, not even urging Jericho to stop taking up so much of his time—just being there.

  “I’m sorry.” It took three tries, but Jericho finally got his apology out.

  “Nothing to be sorry about, baby boy.” Trent’s fingers cupped Jericho’s shoulder through the blankets, squeezed, then released. “It’s gonna happen sometimes. Something I’ve learned is when a feeling that strong takes hold, we’ve just got to ride it out. I’m just glad I was here to ride it out with you.”

  Stifled suddenly by the heat captured by the blankets, Jericho yanked them down, taking in great lungsful of cool air, his wet skin prickling in the unexpected chill. Trent’s fingers pushed through his hair, and Jericho turned to face him, leaning in as Trent pulled him close. He was braver in the dark, just like back in the hospital, so he blurted his worst secret. “I’m gay.”

  ***

  Trent

  Oh, Lord.

  Trent froze at Jericho’s admission, something he’d suspected, and Jacob had confirmed he had his own belief of the same. With a quiet sigh, Trent forced his hand to keep moving, fingers threading through Jericho’s sweat-clumped hair. If this was what he thought, then he might be the first person Jericho had willingly come out to, and he was terrified of screwing things up.

  “Did you hear me?” Jericho’s voice cracked, wavering on the question, a demand that he be heard, that Trent acknowledge his statement.

  “I heard you.” Trent tightened his arm around Jericho when the boy would have pushed off, the heavy cast wedged between them. Then he told him everything Trent wished he’d heard from family and friends when he’d made the same declaration, so many years ago. Nothing about religion, nothing about it being a phase, and nothing about it being an obvious trait. This was Jericho’s news to share, and Trent wanted him to know how honored he felt. “I heard you, baby boy. I heard you, and I believe you. Thank you for trusting me with this. It has to be hard to tell someone you didn’t know existed even a week ago, so thank you.”

  Silence greeted his words. Then Jericho’s body jerked with a suppressed sob.

  “You believe me?”

  “Yeah, of course I do. The world isn’t always kind to people who identify outside what society determines is the norm. There’s no reason for a body to borrow that kind of grief, unless it was true.” Trent’s mouth filled with bitter saliva. “I know, baby boy. I truly know.”

  “Momma hated it.”

  He let that statement hang in the air, waiting, because there had to be more. Jericho finally followed up with what he’d been avoiding saying before.

  “I think she hated me a little bit, too.”

  The only response Trent could think of was to hold Jericho a little tighter. His sister had kept Jericho a secret from him, so he couldn’t honestly acknowledge or deny Jericho’s words. He knew what he hoped his sister would have done, loving her only child no matter what. But the stark reality of his own coming out stripped those beliefs thin.

  “Did she hate you? Is that why she never told me about you? You’re family. If she could do that to you, then…”

  This, Trent knew how to answer, even if it was with just his desperate hope. “Jericho, your mother loved you. The way she stood up to Frank that day, following through with the police? That’s not the act of a woman who doesn’t love her child. She loved you, and that’s all you need to know. There’s no good going to come out of wondering what if, and baby boy, every one of us needs all the good we can get in life. She loved you. Full stop. Hold tight to that, because it is true.”

  They stayed like that for long minutes, the only sound their respirations, Trent’s slow and even, Jericho’s quick, distressed at first before finally settling into the same rhythm as Trent’s.

  Then Jericho’s stomach complained, a long, rumbling growl that was loud in the quiet.

  Trent held his breath until Jericho giggled. Then it was on, their unexpected laughter growing, swelling, bleeding off tension in healthy ways, continuing until Jacob’s voice came from the doorway.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Trent looked over to see Jacob knuckling at his eyes like a child, hair mussed, tight tee showing off his muscles, sleep shorts hanging off his hips.

  “Hey, honey.” Trent made to sit up, pausing when Jericho’s hand clenched tight around his. “I think Jericho’s hungry. His stomach sounds like it’s about to come out and attack us if we don’t feed him, STAT.”

  “I’m not sure what’s in the kitchen, but I bet we can rustle something up.” Jacob turned to walk away with a smile. “Come on out when you’re ready.”

  Jericho’s stomach grumbled again, and Trent was the first to laugh this time. “Let’s go, kiddo.” He rolled off the mattress and to his feet, turning to see Jericho sitting in the middle of the bed, covers puddled around him. “You coming?”

  “Yeah.” Jericho shook his head. “Just…you guys are awesome.”

  “We try,” Jacob called from farther out in the suite.

  “Honey,” Trent chastised, grinning because he knew what was coming next.

  “Babe.”

  He glanced back at Jericho and rolled his eyes, earning a tiny giggle.

  They were clustered around the tiny kitchenette, Trent watching as Jacob put another pair of bread slices into the toaster. He’d commandeered the whole process, declaring it a single-man job, and was busily scraping tiny pads of butter onto the most recently retrieved slices.

  Jericho was standing next to Trent, crowding him a little. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, Jericho wasn’t looking at either of them as he shuffled his weight from foot to foot. Trent bumped Jericho’s shoulder with his, catching a glimpse of the boy’s anguished expression.

  “I’m gay.” Much as they had earlier, the blurted words came as a surprise, and Tr
ent jerked his full gaze over to the boy. Jericho seemed to be intently studying his toes, scrunching and unscrunching them against the cold tile floor.

  “Yeah?” Jacob half turned, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the boy, then to Trent. “Cool.” He turned back to the toast, placing it on the small tower of already prepared slices stacked on a plate. “Is there any jelly at all?”

  “That’s all? Cool?” Jericho’s mouth hung open, eyes wide in surprise. “You aren’t mad at me or anything?”

  “Mad?” Jacob sounded faintly puzzled, the line of his shoulders relaxed and easy. “You do something wrong?”

  “Well, I’m gay.” Now Jericho’s chin was up, and he leaned forwards slightly.

  “Jesus, kid.” Jacob turned, one corner of his mouth lifting in that way Trent loved. “So am I. Why the hell would I be pissed you’re gay?”

  “I don’t know, maybe because I didn’t tell you earlier?”

  “Are you looking for a fight for some reason?” Jacob lifted the plate of buttered toast and held the food at arm’s length to Jericho. “I think you’re hangry. Have a slice on me.”

  Jericho turned his gaze on Trent, accusation in every line of his tense body. “Did you tell him?”

  “No, kiddo. What you choose to share, or not share, that’s all on you. I’m the last person who’d want to out someone, not even if I believed the person I’d be including in your secret would be supportive.” Trent shook his head. “Not happening.”

  “Oh.” Jericho appeared to deflate slightly. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”

  “Jake,” Jacob promptly reminded him, and smiled broadly when Jericho nodded. “Right now I’m not going to read too much into anything you do that seems off. You’ve been through a lot in a little time, and our job here is to help you come out the other end as whole as we can manage.” He shoved the plate into Jericho’s hands just as the toaster popped out the next slices. “Now eat, before your stomach starts in on your backbone.”

  A bemused-looking Jericho turned and wandered to the couch, settling on the floor with the plate on the coffee table in front of him. He used the remote to click on the TV and immediately went to the menu, scrolling through the offerings until he found something that interested him.