Authors: Alan Conway
“Brian, I've got something to show you,” Nick says.
“Just a minute, buddy,” I tell him, ruffling his hair. “This is Damon.”
Nick says hi and shakes his hand. “I've seen you on the internet. You're Brian's roommate.”
“You're a tech-savy little guy, aren't you?”
Nick looks at me for approval. “I guess so. You like video games?”
I roll my head back and laugh. Damon smiles and says he does.
“Come on.” Nick grabs my hand and Damon's and we follow him up to his room.
Damon leans over and whispers, “He's a cute little guy.”
“I know. He's–”
“Brian?”
I spin around and Dad’s looking at me through his bifocals. He asks me if we’re staying for dinner. I look at Damon and he shrugs. I say sure.
Damon
The rest of the evening goes by pretty fast, but it soon plays out like a testing ground for Brian and me. Little Nick is a bundle of joy that makes me smile, and it’s damn near uncanny how much he is like Brian. I don’t know if it’s genetic or the way they were brought up in the world, but I can’t help wondering who our own child will take after. I hope he takes after me, of course, but the good things. The “endearing qualities” as Brian would say. A part of me is hopeful that he’ll be more like Brian or Lauren.
Lauren’s doing her own things these days now that she’s working towards a family, or a quasi-pseudo family. We spend more time bitching and moaning about money or Adam’s insistence of making arrangements. Dr. Carter expects Lauren will go into labor sometime next month, so I guess we’ll just cross those damn bridges when we get there.
Nick and I play a game I’ve never heard of. Brian conks out in the recliner after dinner and mutters stupid shit in his sleep, which makes Nick roar with laughter and bare his massive, gapped teeth. I get this raw, unsettling feeling in my gut and I don’t want Brian to say anything. His family is… well…all right, I suppose. Things seem to be going just fine without throwing another wrench in the gears. But they’ll find out sooner or later. I’m hoping for later.
I wake Brian up. We say goodbye to his family and start our exhausting drive back home. I call Lauren from the road while Brian’s passed out again in the passenger seat. Hell, I’ll let him sleep. Poor little lamb.
Lauren says she’s not feeling so hot. Adam’s been telling to go get checked out but she’s just as stubborn as any of us.
Brian
My cell phone beeps. Damon grabs it off the coffee table and looks at it.
“Oh shit,” he says. “She's having it.”
We haven’t been home an hour, but I grab our bags and race out to the car. Damon jumps behind the wheel and guns it. Benton Memorial is only about a twenty minute drive, but we’ll probably be there in ten.
“Oh shit. Oh shit.” He keeps repeating it.
“What?” I ask.
“I'm scared.”
I say I am, too, and put a hand on his leg.
“Big moment, ya know?” he says.
I say it is. We weave in and out of traffic. Damon honks the horn. I've never seen him drive quite like this before, but I'm glad he's driving because I drive like an old man even though–
I point and blurt out “Don't forget to turn–”
Damon throws on the breaks and jerks the car to the right and taking Exit 82B before ripping through an orange cone on the interstate.
“Sorry.”
Damon's car speeds into the parking lot and squeals to a halt in front of the entrance. We jog across the parking lot, through the automated doors, and take the elevator up to the fourth floor. I'm winded and think we should be getting back into the gym soon. Once the door opens, we see Dr. Carter just up ahead by the nurses' station. I wave and he smiles, taking my hand once I nearly knock him over.
“How is she?” I ask. “Is she all right?”
“She's resting right now. Everything went perfectly. Lauren's fine. Your son is fine.”
Damon and I look at each other, exchanging reality in short panting breaths.
“Our
son
? Our son…” It’s settling in slowly, like slipping into a warm bath.
“That's right,” Dr. Carter says, smiling, checking his watch.
“Wow,” Damon says. “Um, so he's normal right? I mean, he's not mutated or anything, is he?”
Dr. Carter laughs. “You two wait here a moment. The nurse will come get you when Lauren's put in a room.”
I offer my hand again. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Yes, thank you,” Damon says, pumping Carter's delicate hand. Dr. Carter nods and walks away, probably on his way to squeeze in nine holes before sunset. Damon and I continue exchanging deep breaths and once the adrenaline washes out, we find the waiting room and stare at a faded watercolor until a nurse with short blonde hair comes and takes us to Lauren's room.
The lights are off, but I can tell she's awake. We step in quietly. She turns to us.
“Hey guys,” she says. “You missed all the excitement.”
“You feel okay?” Damon asks before I can.
She nods. “A little sore.”
Damon and I kneel down beside her. I lean forward and kiss her on her forehead and puts my hand on top of her head. She's warm to the touch, soft. I'm about to thank her, but she knows that already, saying “What are friends for?”
Damon says, “You're not just any friend.”
Lauren smiles. The door squeaks opens. Adam comes in carrying something wrapped in a blue blanket. Damon and I stand up and turn our attention to the small infant in Adam's arms. My heart thumps madly in my ears.
“Hey fellas,” he whispers. “I've got someone who wants to meet you.” Adam carefully hands me the newborn. I look down at this sleeping baby, trying to understand that this is my own child, my own flesh and blood.
A third of me.
Something happens when you see your own child for the first time. Something innate springs from the subconscious, something that’s been hibernating quietly all your life. Perhaps it’s instinct, perhaps it’s something else entirely, but I do know that in this moment I am changed forever. Awakened by soft pink flesh that will someday call me “Dad.” A lifetime of memories not yet realized come racing through my aching head. It’s overwhelming but exciting beyond all measure. He’s beautiful. So tiny. I try to say something but nothing comes.
Damon looks over my shoulder at this beautiful baby boy, sleeping only a short time after pulled into the world.
“Hi there,” I say.
“I want to see.” Lauren carefully sits up in bed.
I lean down and gently hand him over. Lauren looks at him and smiles through wide, teary eyes.
“Have you guys decided on a name?”
“Devin,” I say. “Devin Andrew.” It comes out effortlessly. The look on Lauren's face is approving, which is not an expression I'm use to. I laugh and say, “We'll draw straws for the last name.” I feel Damon's warm breath on my neck and his arms around my waist. He gets heavier and heavier until he starts to slide down my back and hits the floor like a sack of potatoes. I think Lauren gasps. Adam helps me pull Damon to his feet and sit him in a chair by the window. I grab a pitcher from the side table and splash ice water on his face. It doesn't work, so I just slap him back to reality. We're all silent until the room is filled with childish snickers.
“Damon, I think he wants you.” Lauren says, smiling.
He stands up with a little assistance from Adam and me. Damon takes Devin in his arms carefully. The child's eyes open, deep mahogany eyes, and blinks them dimly at Damon. Damon laughs a bit through tears and a small voice in the far recesses of my mind tells me all this was worth it. Every minute and every penny. All the squabbling over names and arrangements and money and everything else, it's moot at this point. It's in the air, humming like an electric cable. We're a family now.
Damon and I take Devin home the next day. Lauren needs the rest, so the first week belongs to Damon and me.
Then everything begins to change.
Brian
I sometimes wonder if Damon's the one with postpartum depression. He mopes a lot, but I can’t get much out of him. Something isn’t right, but I haven’t had the motivation to pursue it. I’m very tired. I’ve just had my eighth treatment and I wonder if it will kill me before the cancer has its chance. We've stopped going to the gym. Adam's eased up a bit after we've had a chance to spend more time together. He admitted he had a short-lived string of jealousy because of our situation, meaning he felt he had a steeper, uphill battle for Lauren's complete affection, but I reassured him and offered a few words of encouragement that seemed to root themselves pretty well. As for our arrangements, it was never spoken of again. We simply share Devin as much as we can without neglecting one parent over the other.
Things have been near perfect, I suppose. That will change.
We take Devin to this local photographer we found through an ad in The Courier. It’s Lauren’s idea to celebrate Devin’s past six months with a series of studio photos, although she’s completely aware my mother has taken enough pictures to fill volumes of scrapbooks.
The photographer is a young college student name Sierra who lives off the parkway. Her studio is hard to find with the GPS, but we arrive on time. I’m eating Excedrin against the will of my doctor but it’s the only thing that seems to help with the headaches. Damon empties the last few pills into my shaky hand.
“Your turn to buy the next bottle. Don’t OD,” Damon says.
We walk over behind Lauren who’s standing behind Sierra shaking a plush octopus. Devin’s not paying any attention. He pulls his cap from his head and tries to eat it.
That’s when I see someone looking through the window. He’s an older man with black hair combed tightly against his scalp. He brings up a camera and snaps a picture and fear squeezes the air out of me. I run out of the studio and see him getting into a sedan parked across the street.
“Hey! Come here!” I yell. It takes all the energy I have but I strike the car hard with my body before he has a chance to burn rubber.
“Who are you? Answer me, buddy,” I reach in through the window and grab the collar of his Members Only jacket. The guy’s fumbling with his keys. He drops them in the floorboard which gives me a chance to get in his face. His eyes look cartoonishly huge behind his Coke bottle glasses.
“Look pal, I’m just–”
Our noses touch. I’m on fire. Blood runs wildly through me. I don’t want to pass out but I sure feel like it. It’s coming. Hold on.
“Bob Frakes. I’m just a freelancer. I got wind about your kid in there. Is it true that you–”
“Get lost, pal. You got no business being here. Stay away from us. I mean it.”
Damon runs up behind me. “What’s going on?”
“He was snapping pictures of Devin,” I say, still looking at Frakes.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Well you got it,” Damon says, brushing up against me as he approaches the car. “Get out of the way, Brian.”
I let go of Frakes and hold Damon back, hoping he won’t rip into this guy the way I had wanted to just moments ago. The ignition comes to life and Frakes screams through a four-way stop and onto the parkway.
“What if he comes back? What if there are others, huh?”
“Listen, I’m pissed off about it, too,” I say. “I was afraid this would start happening.”
“We should move.”
“We can’t do that right now, we’ve already–”
“Our lease is up next month, Brian. Let’s just go. Move back to River City or something.”
“Are you nuts? What about Devin? What about the arrangements we’ve made with Lauren and–”
“We keep the arrangements as they are. It’ll be more of a drive, but–”
“Can we just talk about this later?”
“Is everything all right?” Lauren’s standing behind us with Devin in her arms, still eating his cap.
“Come here, buddy.” I take him from her. Damon runs a hand through his hair and goes to the car.
“You don’t look so good,” she says. “Want to come inside and sit down?”
I shake my head and kiss Devin’s chubby cheek. “You’re gonna be famous, little man.”
C H A P T E R N I N E
T
HE
D
ESCENT
Lauren
The press finally slithered into our lives. We’ve done over a dozen interviews in an attempt to get beat the sensationalism out of our situation so life can return to normal. As if life is ever normal for us. Our first parent/teacher conference is tomorrow, which I believe will be quite memorable for Miss Karen, Devin's kindergarten teacher. Double-down, honey, you gotta deal with four of us.
Adam and I got married back in June. I’m now Mrs. Lauren Weiss. How’s that for fancy? We honeymooned in Savannah, Georgia. Stayed at a bed and breakfast in the historical district. Once we got back, there had been only one more meeting with Dr. Carter before he ceased work on all three-parent pregnancies and moved to Durham, Maine, to pursue another field of research. Six babies had been born as a result of his efforts, but three had died within two years of unknown causes. But Carter along with Dr. Edward Kilpatrick at the University of Tennessee and Dr. Josef Muldabar at John Hopkins all expect Devin to live a full, healthy life.
Damon and Brian are fading like old photographs. Brian barely gets out of the house and Damon works two jobs in order to pay the bills. Devin stays with Adam and me most of the time, but I make sure gets to see his other parents as much as possible.
I’m worried about them. Damon barely speaks now. I don’t know what’s going on. Brian hasn’t mentioned any problems they’re having, and I believe he would tell him if there was something to worry about. He looks bad. He’s lost so much weight. He wears a stocking cap most of the time to cover the bald spots. His mother and I spoke on the phone yesterday. I got some recipes from her. She visits Brian every week, bringing him food and old paperbacks from the thrift store, and watches Devin while Brian sleeps. He’s so tired. I’m surprising them with dinner tonight. We’ll see if my culinary efforts work out.