Essence of Time (32 page)

“Sure,” Blake lifted both hands and backed away. The look in his eyes one Rob had seen so many times before, in his parents’ gaze as they watched him wither away in a hospital bed.

He dumped the shards in the bin, slammed it shut and walked out still ignoring Blake, knowing he was being unreasonable. He flopped on the couch, closed his eyes, tried to relax. But for the first time in a while, Blake did not get the message and stay away. He sat across from him, leaning on his knees. “Funny, I sort of thought this whole thing was about you.” His voice stayed low.

 Rob’s eyes flew open, staring at the ceiling. Blake kept talking. “I mean, I wanted this for you. I want a baby, don’t get me wrong. But I want our baby, you know? Not just because you think I want it.”

Rob put a hand over his aching eyes. “You do want it, Blake, you told me so, remember? On the cruise?”

“Yes, I remember. But…” Blake rose and settled in next to him. Rob tried not to shift away. He wanted nothing more than to be held, but something in him would not give. This was his role. He was the soother of ruffled feathers, the keeper of the easy button, the guy who knew immediately what to say, or do, or not do to keep everything on an even keel. This reversal thing was just one more example of his weakness.  “Would you just relax?” Blake admonished him. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. You need to sleep. You have another chemo appointment tomorrow.”

Rob groaned and slumped against Blake’s strong torso, letting the other man hang onto him. He felt Blake’s lips against his hair.

“I love you.” He whispered against Blake’s chest.

“I know,” Blake eased him down so his head was on Blake’s legs, smiling when the television came on tuned to a European soccer game. The sounds of the call, the smell and feel of Blake’s legs underneath his head, his hands smoothing Rob’s hair made his eyes droop and finally close.

****

Blake kept his fingers threaded through the silky strands of Rob’s white blond hair, his other hand resting on the man’s shoulder as he slept, allowing himself a brief nap. He woke with a start, noted he’d managed about fifteen minutes of uneasy rest and realized what had forced him awake. The doorbell dinged again. He eased out from under Rob, putting a pillow under the man’s head and a quilt over his legs. How such a strong, virile, healthy-looking man could be essentially dying from the inside out baffled him. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and went to the door. Sara and Lila stood, both looking nervous. He smiled and leaned on the door.

“Ladies,” he kept his eyes off Lila lest he act like an idiot again.

“Hey, let’s go for a walk.” Sara tugged him out onto the porch.

“What? Now?”

“Yes. Now.” She nodded to Lila who seemed to shrink into herself a little at Blake’s stare.

Then she straightened. “Yes. Please. I, um, want to talk to Rob, alone.”

Blake kept staring, confused. “He’s asleep. Probably for another hour or two. The chemo…oh…” He looked down.

“It’s okay. I know about it.” Lila put a hand on his arm, making his nerves to another lusty tap dance. “I just think he and I got off on the wrong foot today. I’ll go in and wait, if that’s okay.”

Blake looked at Sara. “Well, if you think…”

Lila nodded. “Yeah, I do.” She leaned and pressed her lips to his, for a split second, reminding him what had started all this in the first place. He blushed, coughed, looked away, rolled up on the balls of his feet. Lila watched him, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth.

“C’mon brother. I need the exercise. Or ice cream. And we can do both from here.”

“All right hang on. Gotta get some shoes.” Blake walked back in, flipped the TV off and watched Rob sleep for a few seconds. He stirred, rolled over onto his back, arm thrown up over his head. The sheer magnificence of the man’s body, even under a quilt, and clothes made Blake’s scalp tingle.
What in god’s name was he supposed to do when
…? He clenched his fists and forced the thought away.

Lila sat, curled her feet up under her on one of the huge leather chairs across from the sleeping man. “Go on.” She insisted. “We’ll be fine.”

Blake nodded, unable to find the words for such a moment and followed Sara down the steps.

Voices pierced the fog of sleep. Doctors, nurses, his parents, all calling for him. Then Blake’s face ghosted across his brain, his huge green eyes filled with tears. Everyone was dressed for a funeral—Sara, Blake, Jack, Kyle, Christine, René. His funeral. “Wait,” he kept saying, trying to get their attention. “I’m not dead. I’m right here. Blake!” He sat bolt upright, chest heaving and heart pounding. “Shit.” Sweat dripped down his face. He felt his shirt sticking to his back. His mouth tasted like he’d eaten batteries for lunch, the sick metallic ooze of medicine coated his nasal passages.

Someone handed him a glass of ice water. He took it and sucked it back so fast he got a brain freeze, but at least the coppery taste was gone. Finally, he looked up and realized Lila was standing there. Her small frame still dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, her feet bare, gnawing on her lower lip. She was near perfect feminine perfection. She wanted him to have sex with her, impregnate her, watch her grow big with his child, knowing full well he would not be around much beyond that. He looked away.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, setting the glass down on the leather ottoman. Sorry for so many things he couldn’t even begin to name them all.

She sat perched on the couch arm. “For what?” Her dark eyes challenged. The plump pink of her lips tempted. No wonder Blake had jumped her. Jesus. He ran a hand down his face.

“I don’t know. For mixing you up in all this, I guess.” He sat back.

“I just wanted to talk with you a minute. Make sure we are clear about something.”

He looked at her, still a little too fuzzy from his nap to compute that she was mad. “Okay...” he said slowly. The female psyche had always been a mystery to him and he knew when to tread lightly.

“This is a business arrangement.” She stated, sliding down to the couch next to him. His skin pebbled at her proximity. Alarming, but true. “I need money. I like to be pregnant. You and Blake want a baby. We’ll have a legally binding contract for all of it, including the health care piece. Bottom line is I don’t have decent insurance so you guys are on the hook for all the prenatal stuff and delivery.”

Rob shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at the sterility of her words.

She ticked off things on her fingers. “I won’t be sleeping over. I have my own apartment and don’t want to leave Maddie alone. I don’t cook or clean. I don’t do romantic dinners or any of that bullshit. This is business.” He smiled when she repeated herself.  “My next ovulation cycle is in about,” she checked her phone. “Three days. Should not take too much…ah, effort. I’m as regular as clockwork and healthy. And...”

Rob put a hand on her leg and she nearly jumped off the couch. “Hang on a sec.” He stood, wandered into the kitchen for more water, mainly to put some distance between them. Amazingly enough, all her pointed, no-nonsense talk made sense and put him at ease. He looked up to see her standing in the kitchen doorway. He leaned back against the counter, facing her. “So, you have this contract ready to sign?”

“Yes, my attorney does.” She fidgeted with her hair, kept biting her lip, shifted her weight from foot to foot. Rob stayed still, watching her. She was like a petite, black-haired female version of Blake with her nervous twitches and need for control. He smiled, and held out a hand. She took a few steps forward to take it in a business-like shake but he gripped her and tugged her close. “But,” she resisted. Rob kept pulling and by the time her small frame was close to his and his arms were around her, his brain finally stopped clanging and let him enjoy the feel of her.

“I figure since we are going to be having sex, I can at least get a hug. So I don’t feel like a sperm donor.”

She laughed, and then looked up at him. She was truly beautiful. He kissed her then, without thinking about it, and it felt like the most perfectly natural thing in the world. He cut it short, not willing to go any further until the three of them sat and talked, signed whatever contract she had and everyone’s heads were wrapped around this bizarre thing.

She moved out of his embrace. “I’m not taking him from you, you know,” She tilted her head.

Rob nodded. “I know.” He ran a finger down the porcelain skin of her cheek, then across her full lips. A tear formed in one of her eyes and he caught it.  “I am so sick of making people cry.” He leaned away from her, again crossed his arms. “It’s what worries me most. I can’t stand the thought of him, of Blake, unhappy and I am about to do something that will ensure his unhappiness. Something I can’t do a damn thing about it seems.” He sighed. She mirrored him, crossing her arms across her chest. “It’s why I freaked out today, I think. I mean, you are…well, perfect, and I am making no guarantees about Blake not falling for you. Hell, I’m already doing it.” She blushed, a lovely rose-colored shade. “So now there is yet one more person I’m making unhappy. I just…” he closed his eyes.

The feel of her soft palm on his cheek made him open them again. “It’s okay Rob. You should let us worry about being sad. You have enough to focus on. Blake said this chemo round is working so far, right?”

“Yeah,” He pulled his phone from his pocket when it buzzed with a text. Blake, asking what kind of milkshake Lila wanted. He and Sara on their way back and had stopped at Washtenaw Dairy.  He showed it to her. Her face split into a huge grin as she typed her answer. Rob looked at it.

Double chocolate malt.

“Hmm…” He put an arm around her and led her out onto the back porch. “A girl after my own heart.” They sat in the glider in comfortable silence interspersed with brief bouts of laughter at the sight of the dog next door running in circles around a tree that had long ago emptied of squirrels.

Chapter Three

Six Months Later

Blake watched the familiar figures on the screen, felt Rob’s hand in his hair as they lay together on the couch. Constant “trying” to get pregnant had become a bit of a chore and Blake was getting worried about Rob’s obsession with it. It took up too much energy. Energy Rob didn’t need to spare. Blake sat up and kissed him. “Hey,” Rob smiled. “What’s that for?”

“I’m going away this weekend. I’ll take Maddie to the soccer thing. Call Lila, have her stay over. Just the two of you.”

Rob narrowed his eyes. Blake shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend I like thinking about you together without me but I’m do think that we are trying too hard, you know?”

Rob threaded his fingers through Blake’s. “Go on.”

“I mean, she’s a nervous wreck about this, not being pregnant yet. And I want it to feel, I don’t know, more natural or something.” He sighed, ran a finger down Rob’s rough jaw. “I think we agree, we want this first baby to be yours anyway.” He gulped, unwilling to acknowledge why they wanted that so badly. “She told me that this weekend should be the perfect time…”

Rob sighed. “I have to make a confession.” Blake stiffened. Rob put a hand on his chest. “I love you, you know that right? I mean. I will never, ever love anyone like I love you.”

Blake nodded. “I know what you’re going to say.” He kept his voice low. The last months had been one long erotic fantasy. They’d had more sex in more ways with each other and with Lila than he even knew were possible. The time they spent outside of the bedroom was just as great, somehow. She loved hanging around with them, had a dry, natural sense of humor, loved to putter around the house, tidying up after their admittedly sloppy selves, had organized the laundry room, the basement and the back garden with a smooth efficiency.

He actually loved waking up with her nestled between them. Although that did not happen often. She didn’t like leaving Maddie with Sara all those times. They’d tried to convince her to just bring the girl here, they’d fix up a room for her. But she’d balked, loudly, which had led to their first huge, group argument a few days before.

“You can’t just co-op my whole life!” She’d yelled across the bed as she yanked a new set of sheets to the corner. Rob had tried to help, Blake had stayed back, wondering what in the hell he’d said to bring this on. “We have an ‘arrangement.’”  she’d put her fingers up in quote marks. “I get it. I’m not moving in or moving my daughter in, so just get over that. Me living here won’t get me knocked up any quicker.”

Blake had stopped her as she tried to stomp out of the room. “Wait, Lila, I think maybe you misunderstood…”

Blake sensed Rob’s rare anger about to explode across them all. “No, Blake,” the other man ground out. “She’s right. Let her go. We don’t have any say about what she does or doesn’t do when she isn’t here trying to get “knocked up.” He used his fingers to mimic her earlier gesture. Blake stared at him. “So go,” he’d stared hard at her. The connection between their locked eyes was a visible bolt of emotion that glowed red.  “Come back. When you’re fertile, I mean,” he’d turned away. Blake and Lila stared, open mouthed at him. “It’s not like I’m in a hurry here.” He'd stomped out. A tear slid down Lila’s check.

Blake took her hand, pulled her to a chair then sat across from her. “He is convinced he’s dying, even though his last checkup was fine. Not perfect, but fine.”

Lila had wiped her eyes. “You know, Sara tried to talk me out of this. She knew you guys would be tough, and that I…well, that I’d get attached. I think she tried to scare me away with the cancer thing.” She’d clutched his hand, her dark eyes filling with tears. “I don’t care about the cancer. But you have to know something,” she'd sucked in a breath, looked down. “I love you. And I love him.” With that, she’d swiped a hand over her eyes and left the room and the house without another word.

Blake and Rob had stayed silent the rest of the day, each of them needing space to confront whatever it was that tortured them individually and as a group. That night, he’d sat, staring out onto the backyard, sipping bourbon, as the rest of the world slept and he kept his vigil.  His body felt languid, but his brain buzzed with residual worry and stress. Rob’s checkup had not been great. He knew enough by now to realize the implications of it.