Tied in Knots: A Tied Together Novella (4 page)

I
t had been
six months since Ryan and I decided to expand our family. We were lucky that Quinn became pregnant after the first round of in vitro fertilization and was well into the pregnancy. Everyone was excited about the new baby, but the stress between Ryan and me was growing because of my long hours at work. When I did manage to get home early, we would spend time as a family and get ready for baby number two.

I still had tucked the letter away in my work bag, but it burned in my brain everyday. I would sit at my desk, thinking of all the different ways I could possibly handle the situation with my mom, but none of them came out leaving me content.

I was walking back to my office from the labor and delivery unit when I felt my cell phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out and saw that I had a text message from Sean.

Sean: Lunch?

Over the past few months, Sean and I had been meeting for lunch or coffee after a long day. He was quickly becoming a good friend. I found out that we had some things in common, like reading mysteries and similar tastes in movies, and we both liked to run. He even asked if I wanted to join him one time on a run up and down the lake. I laughed and told him that I barely had time to go to the bathroom, much less take a run.

Me: Sure. Meet in Cooper’s Pub in twenty minutes?

Sean: You got it. See you then.

That gave me enough time to get cleaned up and downstairs. I felt the phone vibrate again and rolled my eyes at the impatient nurse. But instead, it was a text from Ryan.

Ryan: You forgot the milk I asked you to pick up last night.

Shit, just add that to the list of things I didn’t do.

Me: Sorry, I forgot. I’ll pick it up on my way home.

Ryan: Are you going to be late or are we seeing you for dinner?

Me: I will do my best to get home on time. I love you.

I didn’t get a response after that. I considered sending another text, but I didn’t want to start something with Ryan when I was supposed to meet Sean for lunch. I quickly cleaned up and made it down to Cooper’s, which was a small pub by the hospital. Sean was already there waiting, playing with his phone. He saw me, waved, and smiled. He really had a nice smile, it was easy to see why guys would find him attractive. Between his friendly demeanor and good looks, I was surprised he wasn’t snatched up.

“You know, if I didn’t remind you, you’d probably go the whole day without eating. And then you’d lose those strong muscles and turn into a stick figure.” He playfully punched me in the gut.

“Ryan usually packs me something to take for lunch, but I’ve been leaving the house before he and Ethan even wake up.”

“Well, I don’t mind having the company, so it works to my benefit.”

We were seated and given menus, which I had gotten to know by heart. Our waitress, Zoey, knew us because we had been in so many times in the recent months.

“Gentlemen, how are you this afternoon?”

“Oh, I’m not gentleman,” Sean said, winking up at her. She giggled and twirled her braided hair.

“You are such a flirt, Sean,” she cooed.

“I just like to admire the finer things when I see them.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to be the one to burst Zoey’s bubble and break the news that Sean played for the other team.

“What will it be for you two handsome men?” she asked, pulling her writing pad and pen from her pocket.

“I’ll take the grilled chicken sandwich, no tomato. And a water,” I said, handing her my unopened menu.

“No problem, Doc. And what will Sean be having?” she asked, giving him a megawatt smile.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke.”

Zoey took his menu and returned his earlier wink with one of her own. “It will just be a few minutes.”

“Better watch what you put in there or you’ll be rolling in the pigsty with the rest of your pig friends,” I teased, pointing to his stomach.

He quirked his eyebrow. He then proceeded to lift his scrub top just enough so I could see the first two of what I was sure was a complete six-pack.

My mouth dropped open and I felt my cheeks flame. He looked at me, biting his lower lip. My head spun and flashes of Ryan’s torso came to mind. I had to adjust the way I was sitting because I was getting a hard-on thinking of Ryan.

“I make sure I stay in shape. A guy likes it when he knows I can throw him around.”

Shit. More images of Ryan and I having rough sex. He loved it when I pulled his hair; I loved it when he dug his nails into my back. God, how long has it been?

“You look a little red there, buddy. Need some water to cool you off?” Sean asked, a sly grin on his face.

I shook my head to bring myself back to the here and now. “I was just thinking of something else I forgot to pick up.”

“Uh-huh. What’d you forget?” he asked as Zoey brought out our food.

“I forgot milk.”

He took a large bite of his burger and wiggled his finger back and forth. After he swallowed he said, “Tsk, tsk. You should know better than to forget the milk. Sounds like you need a spanking.”

“There will definitely be no spanking going on tonight,” I mumbled as I took a bite of my own sandwich. I tried to think of the last time Ryan and I had been intimate. There were plenty of chaste kisses, but between work, stress, and a little boy finding the perfect time to spoil the mood, opportunities for sex were few and far between.

“Ryan not putting out?”

“Sean!” I quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening to our discussion. I had come to learn over the past few months that Sean was more than willing to talk about his sex life with anyone willing to listen.

“What? Sex is a great stress reliever. How many babies do you deliver in a week? How many of those do you think were the result of built-up stress?” He smiled his Cheshire cat grin.

“I have enough stress to make a whole country full of babies.”

“Still haven’t decided what to do about your mom, huh?

I felt a rush of guilt as soon as he said it. After we’d met up a few times, I decided to use Sean as a sounding board about the conflict of seeing my mother. It was after he told me about growing up with just his mom; his dad split town with another woman. His mom was an alcoholic, but had been sober now for ten years. At that moment, I felt some sort of connection to him because we both came from fucked-up families. When I went home that night, the guilt felt heavy on my shoulders because I still hadn’t told Ryan.

“No, I haven’t. I keep going back and forth,” I said. “Part of me just wants to ignore it and move on with my life. I have my own son and a baby on the way. In no way am I giving them the life that I had. In fact, I want to do everything to make sure they have the best life. Why dredge up the past?”

He stopped eating and looked at me. “I get it, although I don’t get the whole kid and commitment thing. It’s hard to make peace with a broken past. I bet Ryan doesn’t understand any of it.”

“Ryan just grew up differently; it’s hard to really understand what we went through unless you’ve walked in our shoes. I know you and I don’t have the exact same story, but close enough.”

“I get you completely, Brandon,” he said, resting his hand on top of mine. He started to rub his thumb slowly across the top. I pulled my hand away and reached for my napkin to wipe my mouth.

“So, why no commitment and no kids?”

“I have no desire to fuck up any kid’s life. And after my last failed attempt at a relationship, I think I’m happy with the ‘fuck them and done them’ thing.” He brushed his hands together, waving the idea off. I shook my head. “I can’t imagine Ethan
not
in my life.’

Sean laughed. He leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of his smiling mouth.

“What?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You said you couldn’t imagine your life without Ethan. But what about a life without your husband, Ryan?”

Well, shit.
The guilt I had been feeling before just multiplied itself times one hundred.

I
unhooked
Ethan from his booster seat while he was busy munching away on some animal crackers I’d bribed him with to get him in the car in the first place. I had no shame using food to bribe my child into doing things quickly. Otherwise, it would always take an additional forty minutes to get anything done.

“How many cookies did you actually get into your mouth and how many ended up somewhere in between the seats?” I helped him out of the car and set him down.

“Car was hungry, too,” he said, stuffing the last cookie in his mouth. I once took my car to the car wash for a full scrub down. I found enough food between the seats to feed a small town in some undeveloped country. Along with a pair of earbuds that had gone mysteriously missing, some crayons, old crumpled tissues, and something that resembled slime—probably from a birthday party goody bag. I’d told the people at the car wash just to burn the whole car and I would try to make a claim with the insurance company.

“Daddy, are we going to see Quinn?”

“Well, I hope so. That’s where the baby is—in Quinn’s tummy.”

Ethan’s nose scrunched up like it normally did when he was confused. “Did she eat the baby?”

I smiled. Kids came up with the strangest reasoning for things. “No, that’s where the baby grows, inside a woman’s tummy.” I didn’t think going through the whole explanation of the difference between a uterus and a tummy would be suitable for a four-year-old. Then again, I wouldn’t have been surprised if this whole conversation came up again the next time Ethan saw a man with a beer gut and insisted there was a baby in there.

“How does the baby come out? Does it come out like poop?”

I snickered, and Ethan pouted his little lip at me, annoyed I found his logic amusing.

“No, buddy. The baby comes out of a woman’s vagina.”

“What’s a bagina?”

“You know how boys have a penis?”

Ethan looked down at his favorite play toy.

“Yeah,” he said, as he poked his penis through his pants.

“Well, girls don’t have a penis; they have a vagina. And when the baby is ready, the woman pushes the baby out.”

Ethan laughed. “It’s poop. Poopie baby.”

Why I even thought I could explain this concept to a kid who was obsessed with his own penis and poop was beyond me.

I took his hand as we made our way out of the parking garage and into the hospital, Ethan’s little feet trying to keep up with me as I pulled him along. Finally, I hoisted him up into my arms, and he rested his head on my shoulder. I loved this little boy with my whole heart and soul. Sometimes I wondered if there would be room in my heart for another child. I’d talked to a few moms in the playgroup who had multiple children, and they all said you come to love your children equally. Except for Rosie, who admitted to me that she preferred her son Kaleb to her daughter Samantha just a touch more. I couldn’t really blame her since Samantha was a booger eater.

We approached the elevator bank, and Ethan started to wiggle in my arms.

“I want to push the button,” he squealed.

I put him down, but before he got to the button, another boy—maybe eight or so—got to it first.
Oh shit.
Ethan’s eyes turned as large as saucers, and tears welled at the brim. The boy started doing a victory dance like he had just scored the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl. I glanced around to see if his parents were following him, but no one else seemed to be around.

My inner demons kicked into high gear.

Steve Buscemi:
Do it, Ryan. You know you want to.

Brad Pitt:
Ryan, you’re not a child, nor should you act like one. You need to show your son how to handle situations like this in a responsible manner.

Steve Buscemi
: Fuck that! The little shit made our boy upset. He deserves to be drawn and quartered.

Brad Pitt:
Why do you even speak? This is not the Middle Ages.

Steve Buscemi
: Fine. How about taken in front of a firing squad?

Brad Pitt:
It’s time for therapy again.

I looked at Ethan again. His little lip pouted and quivered; he was getting ready to cry. I bent down to kiss the top of his head and whispered into his ear, “Everything I’m about to say isn’t true. Just remember that.” He nodded and took my hand.

“Hey, kid,” I called out to the kid who was in the middle of this pathetic victory dance. “Wanna know a secret?”

“I don’t care,” he replied in a high-pitched voice.

“Oh, I think you will. Santa Claus isn’t real.” I stood nice and tall, proud of my disclosure.

“Mister, I’m not a baby. I know Santa Claus isn’t real. You’re so lame,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

My face fell, and I tried to think of a quick rebuttal, but Ethan’s hand slipped out of mine and he strolled up to the punk and kicked him in the shin. “My daddy isn’t lame!”

“Ow!” The boy hopped on one foot, holding his sore shin. A woman finally appeared, and I grabbed Ethan and picked him back into my arms before anyone could look at us.

“Calvin, there you are. Why do you keep running off like that, and why are you bent over holding your leg?”

“That kid just kicked me.”

Ethan and I looked straight ahead at the elevator doors like we didn’t hear the kid. The woman cleared her throat, and I turned my head to her. “We’ve just been waiting for the elevator. I was holding my son the whole time.”

“Fucking liar.”

“Calvin! What did I tell you about using that language?”

The elevator rang, and I slipped inside and pressed the close door button as fast as I could while the woman continued to chide her son. I pressed the button for the
sixth floor and looked at my son. His eyes were now dry, and his lips were pressed together, ashamed.

“You know that was the wrong thing to do, right?”

He bowed his head in remorse. “Yes.”

“And you know we don’t condone hitting or hurting anyone when we get mad, right?”

He nodded.

“But in this case, you were protecting Daddy’s honor, so way to go.” I brought up my hand so he could give me a high five. His tiny hand slapped mine, and his mouth turned up into a smile.

We got to the sixth floor, I set Ethan down, and we walked to Dr. Florence’s office where we’d be meeting Quinn, her husband, Ray, and Brandon. Even though Brandon was an ob-gyn, we’d agreed when Quinn was pregnant with Ethan that he wouldn’t be in charge of Quinn’s care or delivering the baby because he wanted to experience it as a parent and not as a doctor. That didn’t stop him from putting in his two cents every chance he got.

I opened the door to the office, and Quinn and Ray were already waiting for us. Ethan galloped his way over to Quinn’s awaiting arms for a giant hug. He was still too young to fully understand what Quinn meant to us and to him. When the time was right, we would explain the whole dynamic to him. Right now he knew that Aunt Quinn was having his brother or sister. After she released Ethan, Quinn gave me a hug and I shook Ray’s hand. Quinn and Ray were the most selfless people, helping us to create our family while raising their own. Ethan’s pregnancy was perfect—almost no morning sickness, no issues, and an easy delivery. So far, this pregnancy was headed in the same direction.

“Look at that baby bump, Ethan.” I pointed to Quinn’s abdomen.

“Quinn, is your bagina getting big or is it small still?”

Ray choked out a laugh, and Quinn smiled. “When the baby is ready to come out, there will be plenty of room,” she answered.

“Where’s Brandon?” Quinn asked.

Annoyance crept through me that he wasn’t there in time for our appointment. He promised he would be on time. I took my phone out of my pocket to see if he’d left me a message.

“He’s probably in his office or on the Labor and Delivery floor. Can Ethan hang with you for a minute while I get him?”

“Of course. Hey, Ethan do you want to see this cool app our son Zack likes to play?” Ray got his own phone out to show Ethan.

“Yeah!” Ethan hurried over, and Ray scooped him up and put him on his lap.

I hurried down the hall to Brandon’s office, which luckily was on the same floor. I opened the door and saw Kelise, Brandon’s office assistant, on the phone at the front desk. When she saw me, she waved and smiled brightly. I really liked Kelise; she helped keep Brandon from losing his mind completely at work. Just like principals couldn’t function without school secretaries, Brandon couldn’t function without Kelise.

I pointed to the back and mouthed, “Is he back there?”

She held one finger, indicating that I should wait. She finished her phone call.

“Hi, Ryan. He’s not here. He’s on the delivery floor.”

“Is he in the middle of a delivery?”

“He should be finished by now. Didn’t you have an appointment for Quinn’s ultrasound today?” she asked as she moved the mouse on her computer to check his schedule.

“Yeah, we’re all waiting in Dr. Florence’s office. I can run up to Labor and Delivery to check where he’s at. Thanks, Kelise.”

“No problem, Ryan. Make sure to tell me if it’s a boy or a girl; I need to get the right color yarn to start making little booties.”

I gave her a little nod, and she waved as I left the office and headed to Labor and Delivery.

I exited the elevator, expecting to simply ask one of the nurses if they knew where Brandon was, but I didn’t have to hunt anyone down. There he was in his scrubs, laughing with one of the male nurses. I knew most of the nurses in the maternity ward from years of attending department parties, but this wasn’t a face I recognized. He looked young, maybe in his twenties, with blond hair tucked behind his ears, and arm muscles that made his scrub top look like it was about to bust the seams. The man rested his hand on Brandon’s shoulder as they continued to laugh like hyenas.

My annoyance transformed into bitter jealously. The evil, green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, and I felt hot all over. But my anger faded the longer I watched Brandon. The look on Brandon’s face, the wide grin I hadn’t seen in so long, struck me dumb. When was the last time we’d laughed that hard together? It was jarring to see the man I loved so much happily interacting with someone else when he should have been with me at our appointment. Was our life so easy to forget? Especially on such a monumental occasion as finding out the sex of our unborn baby? I walked up to them, my anger building all over. Mr. Surfer Dude blushed and looked toward his feet at something Brandon said. I coughed, and Brandon spun around.

“Hey, Ry. What are you doing here? Surprise date?” Brandon leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. My eyes didn’t leave Surfer Dude, who—I swear to God—smirked.

“We have an appointment with Quinn,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, shit! It’s Wednesday.” He hit his forehead with his palm. “The days are starting to blur because I’ve been living at this damn hospital.”

“But you make the long days fun, Dr. Ford,” Surfer Dude interjected. “See you later.” He walked away toward the nurses’ station.

What. The. Fuck.

Steve Buscemi:
Take a lesson from your son, but kick this asshole in the balls instead of the shin. In fact, rearrange his whole face while you’re at it.

Before I could pull any ninja moves, Brandon pulled my arm toward the elevator. “I’m so sorry, Ryan. These long hours and everything else have my brain going in hundred different places.” He pushed the elevator button to get back to the offices.

“Is one on those stops in Surfer Boy’s pants?”

“Excuse me?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing.” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the elevator bank.

“Listen, I’m sorry my mind mixed up the time and date of the appointment, but don’t take your frustrations toward me out on Sean. He’s a good guy.”

“I bet he is,” I said sarcastically. I huffed and looked straight at the elevator doors. I knew I was acting like a child, but I was pissed.

“I’m not doing this here—and not when we are about to see our baby.”

“Good idea.” I didn’t think it was a good idea at all, but I really didn’t feel like fighting with Brandon in the hospital elevator.

We were both silent on our way back to Dr. Florence’s office. We walked into the waiting room to find Quinn, Ray, and Ethan gone.

“They were already called back, Dr. Ford,” the receptionist at the desk informed us.

Brandon led the way toward the exam room, and he knocked on the ultrasound room door. A soft call came from inside, so we walked in. Quinn was already on the exam table, shirt pulled up to her bra line, exposing her baby bump.

All my frustrations took a backseat as awe took over. That was my baby inside there. My genes, my DNA, and my love. I never thought of Ethan as not being mine, but there was something amazing about the fact that another person might have my nose shape or my eye color. Brandon kissed Quinn on the cheek and apologized for being mixed up before shaking Ray’s hand. Ethan leaped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hi, Papa, where were you?”

“
Getting his mack on with a surfer
,” I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut.

“I was delivering the other babies.”

“Out of the baginas?” Quinn and Ray chuckled; Brandon looked at me, and I shrugged.

“Is everyone ready to get started?” the technician asked. We all gathered around Quinn and the ultrasound machine as the technician spread jelly on her stomach. She moved the wand around, trying to get a view of the little being growing inside her.

“There we are,” she said, and everyone leaned in closer to see the image.

Brandon pointed to the screen. “Look at that, little dude. That’s your baby sister or brother in there.”

“It’s in the machine?” he asked, confusion appearing on his face.

“No.” Brandon laughed. “The baby is in Quinn’s tummy, but the machine is able to take pictures so we can see it.”

The technician pressed more buttons on the machine, and we heard a steady thumping rhythm. “Heartbeat sounds good and strong. Would you like to know the gender?”

“Yes!” I blurted out before anyone else got the chance to answer. The tech looked at everyone, and they all nodded. She moved the wand around Quinn’s abdomen a few more times and then stopped.