Singer
3 hours until Miles
The text came while Singer was washing bottles. Dozens of bottles, it felt like. All different types.
Cathy and Joe had gone shopping. When Singer started hyperventilating, staring at everything they’d bought, Joe had gently steered him toward the kitchen.
A somewhat hysterical part of his mind had registered that this was not the first time Joe had steered a panicking member of his family toward the kitchen. Singer was going to have to draw the line if his de facto father-in-law started preheating the oven or searching for cupcake tins, but he hadn’t.
“Coffee fixes everything that parenting unravels,” he’d said, shaking coffee grounds into the filter. Then he’d glanced over, with a small smile. “And anything coffee doesn’t fix, wine does. Words to live by.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
That’s when the first load of bottles—unwrapped by the living room contingent—made its way to the kitchen. Alice offered to wash, but Singer had declined, grateful for something to do.
He still had a full sink of brightly colored kid dishes, utensils, and bottles left, but he looked at his phone when it chimed anyway.
I’m in our bedroom. DON’T TELL ANYONE. Also: hi. I’m in our bed.
Singer rinsed his hands, glanced toward the living room, decided they could all take care of themselves, and slipped through the back door to the hallway, past the bathroom, past Lisa’s room and the nursery.
The lump on the bed, fully under the covers, had to be Jake.
“Are you hiding?” Singer inquired, trying not to smile.
“How are you not hiding? Oh my god, what is happening?” A dark patch of hair emerged, followed by only the topmost quarter of Jake’s face, eyes wide. “I’m freaking out. Is that okay? Do you have time for me to lose my shit?”
“I think I can pencil you in.” Singer contemplated the bed, and the fact that they had company. A lot of company. Then he locked the door and pulled off his trousers. “You snuck in the back?”
“I parked down the street and crept through the hedges. That’s, uh, more hot than neurotic, right? Imagining me going all James Bond?”
“Definitely.” The bed was welcoming in direct proportion to how risqué it was to slide under the sheets in broad daylight with a house full of Derries. Singer shifted closer, tugging Jake against him.
Jake buried his face against Singer’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I took so long. I got caught up in trying to make sure everything was ready for me to be gone for eight weeks, and I had to sign those papers— Wait, you should have papers. Did you need us to drive into the city? We might not have time—”
“They sent me a PDF. Jake—”
“And then I realized eight weeks is a really long time, but it’s also a really short time, like it can’t possibly be long enough to bond with—with a baby—a kid—is ten months a baby or a kid? And then I started thinking about, like, spending all day with him, like what will we do?” Jake’s much-beloved face, creased in worry, turned up toward Singer’s from where he was lying on his pillow, pouring all of his fears out to the ceiling. “Do you feel ready?”
Singer leaned down for a kiss. “Your dad says coffee and wine fix everything.”
“Ha. Which one do I drink right now?”
“Neither. I have some ideas for right now.” In a move he wouldn’t have dared anywhere else in the world, Singer extended his hand to cup Jake’s cheek. “I don’t think we can be ready. I’m already overwhelmed and the baby isn’t even here yet, but I think that’s probably how all parents feel.”
“Really? I kind of can’t breathe.”
Singer smiled. “I know. I wish you’d seen your dad hauling all that junk into the house. He looked like the world’s most bashful Santa Claus.”
“God, they’re overbearing.”
“Yes. But now we have bottles, and dishes, and we’re to call the second Miles gets here because ‘there’s a range of diaper sizes for a healthy baby’ and your mom needs more information.” His imitation of Cathy’s tone got a reluctant smile out of Jake.
“I just can’t believe this is happening. Does it feel real to you?”
Singer, allowing his hand to linger on the warm skin of Jake’s cheek, shook his head. “Entirely surreal, I think. Like I’ll wake up and it will all be a dream, except I wouldn’t have imagined Alice making a crib mobile out of glass shards.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open. “She did not.”
“It’s actually beautiful.” Singer kissed his boyfriend in their bed, behind a locked door in a house full of people. “You’ll see. I don’t think it will be easy, but I think we’re up for the challenge.” Each time Jake’s confidence had faltered over the years, Singer’s had more than made up for it. They were intelligent, capable men, and even if they didn’t have a great deal of experience with babies, they should be able to manage.
“I’m glad one of us has it together.” Jake took a deep breath. “But we don’t have to go out there, right? I’m on the ‘avoid Cathy and Joe at all costs’ plan at the moment.”
“Your parents have been nothing but helpful.”
“That’s what they want you to believe! It’s not helpful, it’s codependent, Singer. Don’t let the Derries suck you in!”
The phrase hit both of them simultaneously, and they muffled laughter against their pillows.
Singer made his voice low and seductive. “There’s only one Derrie I want sucking me in, Jacob…”
“Oh my god!” Jake laughed and blushed and tumbled Singer over. “You’re not serious, though, right? Because actually I think that would be a really good idea, except for the fact that my parents and brother and Alice and Frankie are all out in the living room right now, but I’m sort of worried maybe this will be our last chance to have sex ever, so on the other hand—” He broke off when Singer kissed him again. “You’re not worried about that?”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Okay, then. Good.” Jake leaned his forehead against Singer’s chest. “Sometimes I get so scared.”
The perfect opening to wrap arms around him, hold him close. “I have you,” Singer murmured.
“Thank god for that.”
Something crashed in another part of the house, followed almost immediately by shattering glass. Both of them winced.
Frankie could be heard distantly. “It wasn’t me! It was not, Carey, you jerk!”
Jake sighed. “God. How bad would it be if we just kept hiding?”
“No one even knows you’re here. But I should probably go out and see what broke.”
“I’m not sending you out there alone. What kind of man would I be if I did that?”
They traded smiles.
“Plus, any opportunity to fuck with Frankie should not be turned down.” A quick kiss before Jake levered himself out of bed. “Our story is that I parachuted into the backyard. Got it?”
“You’re afraid of heights.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because that’s the flaw in that story. If anyone asks, I took some really good antianxiety meds, and then I parachuted into the backyard.”
“Your mom will want to know which meds.” Singer ran his hands through his hair, sighting across the room to the mirror. “Carey will probably want to know if your company has skydiving as a perk, or if it’s simply another mode of transportation, like the company car.”
With a tremendous sigh, Jake paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Fine. We’ll tell them I donned an invisibility cloak and walked right through the front door.”
“That’s much more believable.”
They squared their shoulders and went to face the family.