A Third of Me (9 page)

You've got to understand the massive weight of all this. I haven't been back to River City in a while, and now I'm about to be exposed for who I truly am – or what I've become. I still don't know which it is, and I don't give a shit. I've easily turned on the charm for parents in the past, but only when a girl asked me over to meet them. And of course if her parents liked me, that was all it took to drop them panties at the end of the night. Then I’d move on. But then Heather came along, and… I don't really don't want to talk about her right now.

“Would you chill out?” Brian says. “It's like you're having a seizure over there.”

"I might be – what the fuck am I suppose to do? I'm freaking out."    

“You’re driving me crazy. Here.” He turns on the radio, something soothing – 
thank God
– then his hand falls over mine. I squeeze it and focus on breathing.

“I'm scared, too, but we'll get through this. It’s a major step for us.”

I say yeah and try to think happy thoughts. I do love his mother, and she thinks the world of me. His step-dad is cool, too, but he can be a dick sometimes – he's not trying to be mean, he's just sarcastic, so we can bullshit and talk about football or whatever, so we're cool.

I've never met Ben, Brian's dad. Brian says his dad's side of the family is very different, very closed off from the rest of the world. And very, very religious. Brian says if any of them knew about us, we'd surely burn in hell just for loving each other. Ain't that some shit? Fuckin A, dude.

We park beside the driveway because it’s already full. I get out and suck down a cigarette before we unload our gifts and walk up to front door. It takes forever to get there. It’s like I’m shuffling down death row on my way to the electric chair.

His mom, smiling, pushes the door open for us and gives me a big hug. Immediately, a calm acceptance washes over me before I have a chance to scope out a dark corner to crawl into. Dozens of head roll toward us.

Silence.
Oh shit, shit, shit.

They come up to me one by one, hands thrusting in front of mine, each firmly shaking mine. A few of the ladies hug me. But they don't know. They can't know. There's no way. This is going to be bad.

Brian's mom comes up to me again and walks me into the kitchen, and as she’s lining up silverware on the bar, she stands on her tiptoes and whispers, “It's okay. Everyone knows.”

So much for getting with Brian's stepsister, Lilly. The single one. I'm kidding. Or am I? There was one summer Brian and I were hanging out and Lilly walked through the house in her swimsuit on her way to the pool out back. Yeah, I wanted to fuck her, but if you saw her, you wouldn't blame me for thinking it.

Paul finds me and starts asking me questions. He's being polite, but honestly curious how Brian and I work. I don't have any answers – at least none that are halfway satisfying – so I keep it simple and say that we really like each other a lot and we enjoy spending time together. He asks if it's love, real love, like the way a man and woman love each other. I say it is and can't believe that came out of my mouth. He just stares at me, puzzled, but somehow enlightened.

And that's the best I can do.

We’re all sitting around stuffing our faces and I’m pigging out because it’s all so fucking good. And I’m picky, remember. I feel my thigh vibrate, but I don’t take my phone out. Whoever it is can wait. I’m having a good time.

The whole family is incredibly kind. They ask me normal questions about what I do, where I’m from, and who I like in the playoffs. Brian isn’t saying much, but I know he’s eating it up, and I don’t mean the food. He’s watching this assimilation take place, Damon Loveless becoming part of his family. At least with these people I've met today. Hell, I never felt this special as part of my own broken family.

Brian and I sit on the couch as wrapped gifts are put on our laps. I have gifts? This really is awesome. After they're all passed out, I tear into one. A video game. Sweet! The next one is a blanket with my favorite football team on it. Score! I get a couple other smaller things, but I’m too busy watching Brian open his presents. He gets some neat stuff, too.

Just watching him laugh and interact with his family is fascinating. He’s so polite and gracious. He really is such a sweet guy, and then I think: this guys loves me. Like, really loves me. I suddenly feel like I don’t deserve someone like this, someone who’s not only my best friend, but now – I can say it, wait for it – my lover, and he doesn’t judge me or condemn anything that I do. And he really cares about me. What am I giving back? If I am giving back something, I don’t know it, but I must be doing something right.

Brian

We stick around to help clean up after everyone is gone. Paul loads the dishwasher while Mom wipes down the table and countertops. Damon is smoking out on the patio and I’m picking up bits of trash left behind.

I’m thinking about my meeting with Lauren yesterday. I can’t wait to tell Damon about it, but I don’t want to rush things. I want to get as much as I can out of the way before I tell him. So much preparation, so much money. I’m naturally a patient person, but this is driving me bonkers. I just hope his reaction is a good one, but I know he’ll freak out at first, I just know he will. But that’s okay. If he brought this same proposition to me, I would freak out, too.

But I have another gift waiting for him. It’s hidden under some towels on the top shelf of the our closet. I picked it out a few months ago and almost didn’t buy it, but it was unique and special to me. I hope it will mean the same to him.

He’s a little quiet on the way home. We’re both exhausted. As soon as we get home, we change clothes and while I’m in the closet, I palm the small gift box and present it to him.

“Just a little something,” I say.

His eyes grow wide and weary. He opens it and pulls out the ring.

“It’s not what you think, so relax,” I say, showing him the Gaelic text engraved on the side.

“What does it say?”

“It says
Mo Anam Cara.
It means
my soul friend.
”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I'm not a jewelry kind of guy, Brian. You know this.”

“I know. That's why I got you this, too.” I let the chain dangle from my fingers. “You can put it on this and you can wear it under your shirt like I do.” I pull down the collar of my sport shirt to show him the matching ring hanging from my neck.

“Close to my heart, right?” he says, his eyes rolling up at me as if to say
you’re one sappy son of a bitch, Brian Jamison.

“You get it.”

“Thanks, man. It’s really cool. Very sweet of you. It makes my gift look like shit.”

He hands me a badly wrapped present, which is completely endearing that he tried. It’s a leather-bound notebook with my name embossed on the cover.

“I figure you could use it to write your next story.”

I love it. I say thank you and wrap my arms around him as if he might vanish at any moment. We kiss all the way to the bathroom where we shower and get ready for bed. I almost pull out that magazine from the nightstand and tell him my big plans, but I don’t. The more I think about it, the more uncertain I am. I worry about waiting too long and about what I would if Lauren changes her mind.

I pray to God she doesn't.

Lauren

I’ve always wanted to have a baby. But Mr. Right happens to be in love with Mr. Also Right, and I’ve never had a relationship long enough for marriage or children to work their ways into the conversation.

Then Brian throws me for a loop with this crazy idea. It is crazy, let me tell you.

But I like crazy.

We’ve just missed the lunchtime rush crowd and find a quiet table near back. He’s giddy already, so I do not allow him to have coffee – otherwise he’d be unbearable. We decide to share a slice of Bergin’s famous cheesecake. It’s the best I’ve had anywhere.

Brian leans in and asks me if I want kids someday. I don’t know how to take the question, so I’m a little defensive at first.

“Of course,” I say. “If I ever meet someone by the time I'm thirty.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m serious. Actually, let me rephrase the question a bit: Would you like to
have
a baby?”

“Where are you going with this?” I say, running a wet finger across the plate, mopping up the crust crumbs.

I’m not paying much attention at first, then he reels me until I’m hooked.
This is your chance, Lauren. It may not be what you want, but it could be potentially better that you ever dreamed.

Brian really wants this. Damon doesn’t know yet. I’m not sure how Damon will feel about it, but he’s changed since he’s been with Brian. He’s more alive, driven, and for the most part, more mature.

He is
deeper
.

Brian paints a beautiful image of our future together and what it will be like. Each detail delicately creates a monumental masterpiece in my mind’s eye where tears are about to come, but I hold them back.

“So what do you think?” he asks.

“I don't know what to say.”

“I’d normally say
you don’t have to say anything
, but in this case, you need to say something.”

I’m thinking very, very hard about this. This is beyond huge. It’s insane, really. Only a reckless fool would go for it.

I put my hand on Brian’s. He’s looking away to avoid the rejection he’s expecting.

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Don't do it for me,” he says. “Do it for the three of us. Do it for yourself. We’ll all be in this together.”

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Soon.” He smiles and pays for our meal.

“
What
are you going to tell him?” I ask while he’s helping me with my coat. As Brian holds open the door for me, I notice his eyes are smiling – they do that. When he leans over I feel his nose tickle my ear, giving me a wild rush of goosebumps.

“That we’re going to be a family.”

Damon

I like babies. I never did see myself as a father, but that doesn’t mean I never wanted to be. I always told myself if it ever happened accidentally, I’d get my act together and be a responsible parent.

But now that I'm with Brian and things are good – we're not openly a couple nor do I really consider us as one because it’s all still kind of weird to me – but I can’t help wondering if I would have been a good father. If somewhere down the road Brian and I don’t work out, maybe the opportunity will come, I suppose.

But for now I’m happy. And hell, maybe we are a couple. Regardless, I’m not ready for what Brian is about to tell me.

This is a typical night. We’re in our room – the room that use to be mine is now an office we both share – and Brian is propped up against the headboard pounding away at the keys on his laptop – working out a new story, I think, but he’s being an ass and won’t let me read anything until he’s done – and I’m down at the edge of the bed with my legs crossed, controller in hand, trying for one more achievement on this map before I have to return the game tomorrow.

Brian is usually asleep by now. I stay up late and play until one or two o’clock because I don't have to be at work until nine.

I hear his laptop close and pages rustling behind me. The magazine appears beside my knee, rolled open to an article circled in blue ink.

I pause the game then decide to just shut it down for the night. I lie back and read the title out loud: “
Child Born of Three Parents: Controversy Erupts.
What's this?”

“Just read it,” Brian says.

I read it slowly to myself. I haven’t made the connection yet.

Brian crawls over beside me and says, “I tracked down that doctor, Dr. David Carter out of Austin, Texas, and emailed him with questions.”

“For the story you're working on?”

“No, silly.” Then it clicks.

“Wait a minute, are you suggesting–”

“Just hear me out, okay? I know you want kids of your own. And I’ve seen you with kids and you're wonderful with them.”

“But you hate kids,” I say but meaning well.

“I don’t
hate
kids. I just don’t have much experience with babies. I think this would be a great option for us to consider since we’ve been together almost two years now and–”

“What about adoption? Wouldn’t that be cheaper and more…I dunno…ethical?”

“Damon, we can have a child of
our own.
Read it again. It will be our flesh and blood. And Lauren’s, too.”

“
Lauren?!
Have you even talked to her about this? There’s no way–”

“There is a way,” Brian says, resting his warm hand on my shoulder. “And of course I’ve discussed it with her. She’s totally onboard with this.”

“Are you fuckin serious right now? Holy crap, dude, I can’t even believe this conversation is happening. We could never afford to do something like that anyway.”

“Yes we can. Luckily this clinic is trying to drum up business since the first birth was so successful. We qualify for a…a discount, let's say.”

“Discount? Because…”

“Well we’d, um, have to be married first, but–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,
MARRIED?!
Fuck
that!”
I get up and walk down the hall into the kitchen. Brian follows me, still talking.

“Damon, calm down, all right? I was joking. Just a joke!”

I turn and have the urge to hit him and hate myself for even thinking it.

“Turns out Carter knew my Uncle Harold. Donated a lot of money for Carter's research fund when he first started out. But anyway, Carter agreed to cut us a deal if we go through with it.”

“That's it? There’s another catch, isn't there?”

He hesitates then he says, “We won’t be able to keep it a secret, Damon. You know that, right?”

I nod and consider the ridiculous notion that I might have microphones and cameras shoved in my face if we do decide to do this. It’s not enough to dismiss the idea, but it’s something we both should think about.