If We Could Go Back, page 30
Maybe things had changed for my father too. The message of doing good deeds had gotten lost in the memory of “I’d rather someone else suffers than you, Bennett.”
People had gotten hurt since I last sang this song for Nate and Jess.
“James, you tell your boy one day to…see not the color of a man’s skin…not the clothes he wears on his body… My James, you tell him to share his bread and drink. Tell him to share his bread and drink…”
“I like your voice, Bennett,” Jaylin said softly.
I peered down at the guitar and smiled, reminded of her presence. Maybe that was my job now, more than ever. For Kieran and me to teach the kids about good deeds. At this point, school was easy. But eventually, all three might face problems because they had two dads.
That thought was scary. It always was for a parent. Knowing you couldn’t be there to protect them at all times. I released a breath and finished the song, but I wasn’t quite there anymore. Kieran and I had been so consumed by establishing our relationship and planning for a bright future full of traditions and adventures that I’d completely forgotten the struggles we might have to take on from others.
There were a lot of people in the world like Kieran’s folks, people who spat hatred and judgment.
Were our children going to take hits because we wanted to be together?
How was that fair?
And I was supposed to do what? Tell them to turn the other cheek? Was that a good deed?
Perhaps I wasn’t a very good person then, because I fucking refused.
I would never tolerate intolerance. I would never treat bigotry with respect, and I wasn’t sure I could teach my children to do that either.
The kids had gone quiet behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, I noticed two things. The children had fallen asleep where they sat, and Kieran was standing in the doorway.
After setting down the guitar, I stood up and grabbed Jaylin’s and Nate’s mugs. Jess had already put his on the table. Then I tucked the kids in under Nate’s duvet and kissed their foreheads before I met Kieran in the hallway.
He probably saw I was troubled.
“Am I a good person?” I asked quietly.
He frowned, then nodded at our room.
Once we were behind closed doors, we sat down on my side of the bed, and he gathered my hand in both his.
“What brought that on?”
“Just…” I made a vague gesture toward the living room. “The song. I don’t know if you heard—”
“I did.” He kissed my knuckles. “It’s possible I took a picture of you guys too.”
I smiled, even as I felt the doubt clouding me. “When I sang that song to the boys before, I never thought twice about good deeds and what makes a good person. And after everything that’s happened—with us—and the people who got hurt… I don’t know. And then I thought about the narrow-minded idiots who walk freely everywhere. The chances our kids run across them are pretty fucking high.”
He hummed and nudged my elbow lightly with his. “I don’t think you need to share your bread and drink with those morons in order to be a good person, baby. You don’t owe them any wisdom either. People are free to hate too.”
My forehead creased.
He quirked a wry little grin. “One of the reasons I love you is because you think in those terms. You worry about the big picture and ask the universe-sized questions, but no one’s keeping score, Ben. I think we like to believe there is, but in the end, I’m gonna meet the same death as my parents. They’ve done good and bad. I’ve done good and bad.”
I nodded slowly, picturing my dad saying similar things.
He continued. “The schoolyard bullies who one day might corner Jess and say his dads are fags—ain’t a whole lot we can do about that, except prepare Jess.”
“Right,” I said, because this was my point, “and I have no desire to teach Jess to just take it. To turn the other cheek and accept being bullied.”
“Who says we will?” He cocked a brow.
“Well…” Everyone said that. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had a teacher who told you not to stoop to their level.”
“Oh,” he chuckled. “The high road and that bullshit. Sure. Then I grew up.” He shrugged. “If someone gives our boy a beating, he will know how to hit back. Trust.” The rough-around-the-edges Boston kid made an assertive appearance, though I was more focused on the fact that he’d called Jess ours. Warmth spread all over. “You don’t buy into that shit, Ben. Do you?”
“What?” I asked dumbly. Buy into what?
“Never mind,” he said. “You know what a good deed is? It’s flying across the country when I was in the hospital because you weren’t sure I had anyone. A good deed is raising your sons selflessly the way you’ve done. You’ve given them everything. A good deed is supporting me while I got out of my funk. It’s about being there for those you love and to help others when you can, it’s about getting my sister an interview at Brianna’s friend’s clinic, and it will be a good deed when we prepare our children for reality. They will know how to defend themselves and stand up for what they believe is right.”
It was amazing how quickly Kieran could calm me down. More than that, how well he centered me and made me look at what was important. And the truth was, being a good father and a good partner far exceeded the opinion of an imaginary scorekeeper.
“You’re right,” I said. “You’re sort of smart for an Irishman.”
He grinned. “That Irishman could mop the floor with your English ass.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Cleaning—a fitting job for—”
“Oi!” He pushed me back onto the mattress and crawled over me while I laughed. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”
I grinned up at him. “Can I kiss you for good luck or should I rub your leprechaun?”
He shook with silent laughs and dipped down to kiss me. “That was a good one.”
I chuckled into the kiss and ran my hands up his back, feeling much better. Thanks to him. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
He hummed in pleasure and pecked me once, twice, three times. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
Later that day, at a more respectable hour, Kieran was in his element. He was surrounded by loud children who were running around playing with their new toys, there were spiked hot drinks, a lot of yelling between Desmond and Grace, and I was the recipient of the exact words, “I love you, but get outta my kitchen.”
Safe to say, he didn’t want my help with the turkey—or anything else for that matter. So I grabbed two cold beers and joined my father on the couch in the living room.
“Did I hear him ban you from the kitchen?” Dad chuckled.
“Can you believe that?” I shook my head in amusement and took a swig of my beer.
Brianna and Chris were here too, and they were currently looking at the pictures I’d put up from the wedding. They deserved their own spot on the wall next to the entertainment center, and one of the pictures was slightly enlarged. It was of Kieran and me when we’d danced. The wedding photographer had captured a perfect moment. My head ducked, a grin playing on my lips, Kieran’s beautiful laugh frozen in time, our hands clasped.
“Not too close to the TV, Jess,” I hollered. He was playing tug-of-war with Duke and his new chew toy, and they’d already knocked over one glass of soda today.
“He’s almost stronger than me now,” Jess huffed, out of breath. “Good boy, Duke.”
Glancing over at the dining room table, I studied Nate and Connor for a bit. They seemed to have connected quite well. Connor was quieter and calmer than the other Marshalls, and he was into computers. Nathan ate that right up, and now they were playing a board game with questions about technology.
“This is a wonderful picture, Bennett.” Brianna pointed to one of Nate and Jaylin from the wedding. She’d wanted to dance but had been too shy to ask anyone, so Nate had taken one for the team. He was a good brother.
All the pictures were amazing. They’d gotten lucky with their photographer. “My personal favorite is the one of you and Dad after you and Chris had your first dance.” It wasn’t on the wall, though. There’d been too many to choose from, so that one had ended up in a frame in my office.
“That’s a great one,” Chris agreed with a nod.
Dad had no comment. He merely sat there in silence, sipped his beer, and smiled every now and then.
“Nooo! Put me down, Uncle Des!” Jaylin shouted. “I will punch your butt!”
I spluttered a laugh and turned my head just as Des waltzed into the living room with Jaylin thrown over his shoulder.
“I have a kid to sell,” he offered. “Any takers?”
“Jerkface!” Jaylin started banging her fists over Desmond’s back and ass, to which he laughed. “You can’t sell me!”
“I suppose I can give you five dollars for the princess,” I said.
“That’s a fine offer,” Des replied.
“Bennett!” she screamed.
I winced and feared the windows might break if she screamed any louder. Desmond grinned and started tickling her—God, what a bunch of hell-raisers they all were—and then dumped her on the couch.
Jaylin yelped, only to squeal with laughter as her stomach flipped. “Do it again,” she demanded.
I snorted into my beer.
Dinner was even crazier.
It was a good thing we’d bought a new dining room table, because even if we could’ve fit at the old table—though barely—Kieran and Grace had made so much food that we couldn’t see the surface anymore.
Nate was seated between Connor and me, and he leaned close to speak in my ear. “I think Jess is a Marshall.”
I let out a laugh and shared his comment with Dad at the head of the table, and he laughed too.
Nate probably wasn’t wrong. As the Marshalls had raised the volume with their mere presence, Jess had come to life with a whole new default mode. Indoor voices had ceased to exist entirely, and he’d eased into the role of Desmond’s antagonist like a champ. If Jaylin poked Des in the ribs, Jess upped the ante to get a rise too. Jaylin would narrow her eyes and take it even further.
Kieran was on my other side, also at one of the short ends, and he nodded at my father. “You wanna do the honors and cut the turkey, sir?”
“Oh no,” Dad said. “This is your feast, son. Yours and Grace’s. You go ahead.”
Kieran and Grace exchanged a glance, and she decided to make a toast while her brother took care of the turkey.
As she stood up and raised her wineglass, the rest of us lifted our drinks too.
“First of all, I wanna thank Kieran and Bennett for welcoming us to the West Coast,” she said, and I tipped my beer bottle at her. “You have a wonderful family, and we’re blessed to be part of it.” The next part was for her brother. “The family we choose is sometimes better than the one we were born into, big brother. And sometimes, we get a little bit of both,” she added with a cheeky grin, “but either way, I’ve made my choices, and I could not be happier. And looking around me today, watching you, seeing you with Bennett, I’m confident you feel the same.”
Kieran leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Fuck yeah, I do.”
“Hear, hear,” Des and Connor exclaimed.
Grace beamed and held up her glass. “Sláinte mhaith.”
A round of cheers rang out, followed by Jess asking “what the shit” that meant, and I stared at him with wide eyes.
He pointed to Des. “He said that before!”
“No, I didn’t,” Des replied with a frown. “I said what the shite. Ya gotta learn, kid.”
Sweet Jesus.
“Maybe we don’t go full throttle the first year,” Kieran told Des. “Take it down a notch—at least until gay marriage is legal and I can trap Ben properly.”
Grace guffawed.
“That’s the sweetest proposal I’ve ever heard,” Brianna laughed.
I was…overwhelmed. Amused beyond words, in love, and utterly defeated. The Brooks boys didn’t stand a chance against the Marshall manners; we just had to enjoy the ride.
Nate looked over at me, seemingly as shell-shocked as I was, and I could only grin. And kiss the side of his head.
“I’m dizzy,” he chuckled quietly.
“You and me both, son.”
Around midnight, the last people had left, and the kids had passed out in various stages of food coma and exhaustion.
Brianna and Chris were spending the night at Dad’s place, and after an hour’s wait, Camassia’s only taxi service showed up to take the three youngest Marshall siblings home. Ten minutes later, Kieran and I collapsed into our bed and refused to touch each other.
I feared I would explode at the slightest pressure.
“Today was…” I had no words for how I would much I would cherish the memories this Christmas had given me.
“It really was,” Kieran murmured. “I haven’t been this happy in…ever.”
I found his hand in the darkness—
“Just don’t touch my stomach,” he whispered.
I smiled tiredly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We let out a collective sigh of contentment, and I closed my eyes.
To think, five years ago, Kieran and I had chased the opportunity to meet up for beers for the first time. Five years. He’d texted me merry Christmas. He’d been in Boston. I’d been in the middle of microwaving hot chocolates for the boys and me. Now we shared a home and had merged our families.
“That wasn’t the proposal, by the way,” Kieran said drowsily, halfway to sleep. “You’ll know when I ask you to marry me.”
I used the last of my strength to lift our hands and kiss his fingertips. “Maybe I’ll propose first.”
“Nuh-uh,” he yawned. “I’m calling dibs.”
I chuckled, something that made my stomach clench, and that fucking hurt. “We’re not ten, love.”
“Nope…” He shuffled around, and soon I felt the duvet over me and his body heat right next to me. “We’re thirty-three, and I still call dibs.” He kissed my shoulder. “Let’s have sex tomorrow instead.”
“Or the day after,” I said. “I don’t think I’m leaving this spot anytime soon.”
“Christ, me either. Deal—day after tomorrow. We’ll fuck like bunnies.”
“Ouch,” I groaned through a laugh. “Don’t be funny, please.”
“Sorry.” Judging by the grin in his voice, he wasn’t sorry at all. “Night, baby.”
“Good night,” I yawned.
Epilogue
A few years later
“That’s fine,” I said, making a note in my calendar. “I’ll be out there on the 19th anyway. I’ll talk to them then.”
Outside my office, I could hear that Jaylin was here. She asked my assistant if her dad was available, something that never failed to put a smile on my face. She’d never called me Dad in person, much like Nate and Jess only called Kieran by name, but we were more than happy about them referring to us as their parents to friends and teachers.
After wrapping up my phone call, I told Jaylin it was okay to come in.
She popped her face in first, as if to make sure it really was okay to enter. “Hi.”
“Hi, darling. What brings you by?” I checked my watch. I’d thought she’d be at the beach now. It was where Kieran and Jess had decided to spend the day, while some unlucky others had to work.
“Nate wanted to go to the comic book store, so I tagged along,” she explained, taking a seat across from me. Her backpack ended up in the other chair. “He just dropped me off.”
“Ah.” That made sense. The fact that Nathan had recently gotten his license was a bit of a mindfuck, but we tried not to think about it too much.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she went on hesitantly. “But you can’t tell Dad.”
I’d been waiting for this. Maggie was getting remarried in Seattle next weekend, and none other than Kieran’s parents were invited to the wedding. So for the first time in basically ever, his mother and father were coming to Seattle. Desmond and Connor had been on a strike where the family was concerned since Kieran was no longer welcome; Grace saw them once a year for Thanksgiving. And Jaylin…well, she’d come up with excuses the past couple of times when Maggie was heading back east to visit. Since they’d be so close next week, I had no doubt they’d reached out to their granddaughter.
“It’s about your grandparents, I assume.” I sat forward and clasped my hands on the desk, and she nodded. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t have to keep it from Kieran, sweetheart. He wants you to be able to see them whenever you want.”
She looked flustered about something. “I want to confront them,” she admitted. “Especially Nana. Everything is so fake now when I see them. That’s why I canceled before. It doesn’t feel right.”
I understood her. Jaylin was growing up so fast, and this year she’d taken a big interest in politics. She was also headstrong beyond words, and she looked up to Grace and Brianna a lot, two women who prided themselves on standing up for what they believed.
“You mean, confront them about why they won’t see your father?” I asked to make sure.
“Well, yeah. How long do they expect me to believe it’s a stupid fight that’s keeping them apart?” She became annoyed. “They can’t treat Dad like that and then think the rest of us can go on like nothing’s happened. It’s dumb as shit.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my smile. “I understand where you’re coming from, trust me.” I phrased myself carefully. “Think about your mum for a minute first, though. It’s her big day—she’s getting married and probably doesn’t want a big fight at the reception—”
