Nick
"She's not pregnant? Well damn. What are you doing, shooting blanks?"
I rolled up an old gray shirt that was fairly new (it only had one tiny hole in the pit) and stuffed it in my bag. I glared at J.
"We weren't trying and I keep it wrapped."
"Always?"
My jaw tensed. I lifted a pair of socks to my nose and inhaled. They passed. In the bag they went. I thought about the 4th of July. It was hard to remember if I wrapped it up that last time I was with Lauren. She had called herself stupid and yanked off her shirt and my head was sandwiched between two orbs and she was talking about being double-jointed...
"Heather wouldn't want it any other way," I declared. I zipped up the bag and sat down. "Y'know what she accused me of before she left?"
"Of being a douche?"
I decided to let that pass. "No. She accused me of not wanting a baby."
"Well, dude, I hate to say it, but you've told me that a million times."
I stared at my knuckles. I had scraped them along the brick building of the tux shop just a couple hours before. The skin was an angry shade of pink. I puckered my lips.
"Maybe I changed my mind," I said aloud, almost testing the statement.
"Are you drunk?"
I knew I should have called Howie. Why was it that AJ was always the only one around? Fuck.
I fell back on the bed. "Why? Why do I talk to you?"
J's bald ass head suddenly hovered over me. "I'm sorry. We can continue to chick talk. You want a baby?"
"I dunno. I mean, it kinda comes with the territory, doesn't it? And when I die, it would be kinda nice to have someone care and keep the Nick genes alive."
"What if you had a daughter? How's a chick gonna keep the 'Nick genes'," AJ made air quotes. It reminded me of Brian. "alive?"
Hunh. I hadn't thought of that. I lifted my arms above my head. "She could. Cause if she had a boy then I'd have a grandson. And he'd keep the Carter pride alive."
"Carter pride? What have you done to be proud of lately?"
The silence was deadly. J instantly realized he had hit below the built. "Sorry," he muttered.
"No," I said. "You're right. I've been a douche. I've been a sneak. I've been a no-good-lying sonofabitch. I can't be that kind of dad. I swear that as soon as Heather and I are married, I'm going to come clean about everything. Then we can have one of those 'Cosby Show' families."
"With all those kids?"
"NO!"
J snickered. "Just checking. Monkee and I are planning a baseball team full of little monsters."
"Seriously?"
"Unlike you, I can change a diaper."
"You may be able to change a diaper, but are you gonna take all of 'em to the circus?" I asked.
It was priceless. J's usually golden complexion turned stark white. "NO."
I grinned.
"Just checking."
Heather
I shoved quarters into the ancient soda machine and hit my selection of Cherry Coke. Nothing happened. I punched the buttons again, willing it to magically work this time. It didn’t. I pressed the change release button, and nothing happened. “God damn it,” I bellowed and I started kicking the machine, tears springing to my eyes. The machine wasn’t the machine anymore in my head, it was Nick. “God damn it, God damn it,” I sobbed.
Suddenly two strong arms were around me, pulling me away from the vending machine. “Hey, hey now kiddo, shhh.” I looked up. “Pick on somebody your own size,” he laughed. “What’d the vending machine ever do to you?” he asked.
“It ate my change,” I snuffled.
Brian reached around me and expertly tapped the side of the machine with his fist twice. He was rewarded with the clicking of my quarters in the change cup. He smiled, “Sometimes there’s benefits to them not changing out vending machines for twenty years,” he laughed.
I took the quarters out and shoved them into my pocket.
“C’mon, let’s take a walk. There’s another vending machine a couple halls from here,” he said, wrapping his arm around me, “That one has Pepsi products, but you know.” He guided me along down the hall, away from the vending machine. It was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Did Nick tell you he didn’t want you to have babies?”
“No, it’s just obvious.”
Brian’s fingers tensed.
“He looked so relieved when I told him TMZ was wrong,” I said, frowning. Nick’s eyes had gone from panic to shock to relief in under a second, then back to panic. “He wasn’t going to tell me not to have it, because he felt obligated, but he didn’t really want it, and I don’t want babies in a family that doesn’t want them.” I’d thought this out on the plane. I’d decided it myself. “I should get my tubes tied, then he doesn’t have to worry about condoms.”
Brian looked at me, his eyes hurt. “But you’ve always wanted to have kids.”
This one time, Brian had come over to our house looking for Chris, but Chris had gotten a detention in school and he was staying late after. So Brian was sitting in the backyard, waiting for Chris to come home and he looked bored so I asked him to play with me. “What are we playing?” he’d asked.
“House,” I’d said, “And you’re the Dad.”
Brian had smiled and carefully, gently picked up my baby doll, who had been named Heather, too, like me, and he’d cradled her in his arms just like she was a real baby. He might have been like thirteen at the time, but Brian looked down at that baby doll’s eyes like they were true, blinking eyes of a miniature angel. He’d smiled, “She’s beautiful,” he said, looking up at me, “She has your eyes.”
That is what a father was supposed to look like the first time he held his child. And for the life of me, I couldn’t picture Nick looking anything except nauseated.
I frowned. “I know.”
Brian licked his lips. “Heather,” he said, his voice level and serious, “Do you want to marry Nick?”
I felt my throat close up.
Brian
Silence hung between us.
“Kiddo?” I asked.
“Where’s this mythical Pepsi machine?” she asked, turning and taking some paces ahead of me. I watched her back. I sighed and followed her.
“Around this corner,” I answered.
We turned and Heather pulled her quarters out and ordered a Dr. Pepper from the machine. The soda hissed as she unscrewed the cap. I pulled some money out of the depths of my pocket, too, and got a diet Pepsi. We stood there sipping our bottles of soda for a long moment.
Then I took a deep breath, “If you don’t want to marry him,” I said, “Then you shouldn’t.”
“What girl wouldn’t want to marry Nick Carter?” she laughed.
I shrugged. I took another pull off the Pepsi. “One that didn’t love him.”
Heather’s eyes turned to look into mine over the end of her Dr. Pepper. She swallowed way more of the soda than she probably had been intending to, and stared at me the whole time. I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. She lowered the bottle. “Of course I love Nick. I’ve loved Nick since – since you introduced us.”
I shrugged again.
“Look, what Nick and I have is special,” she said, struggling for words, “What we have – it – it doesn’t need babies to complete.”
“Okay,” I said.
She stared up at me. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging you.” I downed the last mouthful of my Pepsi and held the empty bottle. I played with the cap. “I just think you deserve to be truly happy, with someone that wants what you want.”
Heather shrugged, “This isn’t a fairy tale, Brian. There’s no prince, there’s no white horses. Sometimes marriage is more about working it out than about love and sometimes you don’t get what you want, you get what you need.”
I shook my head. “You’re preaching to the choir, Heath,” I said, “I know marriage isn’t always rainbows and butterflies and happy times and all that bull crap that Hans Christian Andersen expected us to believe it is. I know. My wife’s a lesbian, remember? I know all about making it work.”
“You stayed with Leighanne even after she didn’t want babies anymore,” Heather accused, “Even though you wanted more.” She stared at me.
I stared back at her.
“You wanted more than one,” she said, “I know you did. I know you have more empty nest syndrome than she’d ever have.” Heather studied me. “Why did you stay with Leighanne?”
I felt a bubble rise in my throat. “But I loved Leighanne.”
“And I loved Nick,” Heather said.
“Past tense?” I asked.
Heather threw away her Dr. Pepper bottle and walked away.
