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“Come on lazy bones, let’s go!” Bucky shouts up the stairs. You place a hand on your husband's arm, settling him in his excitement. Even at the ripe old age of sixty-three, Bucky still gets overly excited at new things like a child. He gives your youngest grandchild a run for her money at times and she’s only four.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Steve grumbles as he descends the stairs to join you in the foyer. He’s fumbling with the buttons of his favorite blue shirt, unable to get the buttons through the holes as quickly as he’d like. His arthritis is flaring up again, it’s been doing that more and more lately.
You push past the pang of sadness at seeing your husband struggle and pull him close when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, “Come here, love. I’ve got it.” you tell him, fixing the buttons of his shirt with quick efficiency.
Steve checks his hair in the mirror by the door; the blonde is shot through with white and silver, though the cut is the same as when you met him. Even at sixty-two he’s quite striking. Bucky and you make sure to remind him of that regularly too. “You look great, Stevie.” Bucky assures him, pressing a quick kiss to the other man’s cheek before you head out the door.
The walk to the new cafe is only four blocks from your old brownstone but the three of you take your time. There’s no need to hurry anymore. Now that you’re all retired, you can spend your days together doing whatever piques your interest at your own pace. Bucky had retired at fifty-five after an accident at the docks; his foot healed quickly but he realized he was getting too old for that type of work. Steve had been doing commissions only since the kids were born, taking jobs here and there as needed. It had helped tremendously when the kids were young. The last two years though, his arthritis had worsened and he’d stopped taking jobs. He claimed he wanted to create for himself while he still could. You were the last to retire, finally giving your notice the year before, and leaving your beloved library after almost forty years of service. You still go in once a week to lead story time for the children but you left the heavy mantle of Library Director behind.
The cafe is a little brick shop with a lavender awning and wide glass windows. It’s cheery looking and definitely fits in with newer shops that have come into the neighborhood in recent years. Bucky holds the door open causing a little bell to chime up above and the scent of coffee hits your nose. It smells like heaven.
Bucky insists on ordering for all three of you, so you and Steve take a table by the window while Bucky hurries over to the counter. You sit quietly looking around, letting a gentle melancholy sink into your bones. You miss the days of setting up shop in a Starbucks to work on your college papers, sipping an endless stream of lattes and staying right up until they closed for the night. Being back in a cafe like this dredges up those fond memories and you wish you could share them with the guys. You’d always meant to tell them, but even after forty years together, the timing never seemed quite right. And the longer it went, the more impossible it seemed.
“Here we go!” Bucky interrupts your reverie, placing a tray with three steaming cups and a plate of treats on your table. He slides into his seat and snatches a lemon scone with a wide grin, his sweet tooth just as wild as ever.
You reach for the cup immediately after recognizing it as a latte; eager to devour it despite the steam flowing freely from the foam. The first sip is overwhelming, the taste of espresso and steamed milk hitting your tongue for the first time in four decades.
“It’s called a cafe au lait.” Bucky explains, “This is the only place in the city that serves them and they’re just the best.”
You’re lost in your own little world, practically on the verge of tears as your taste buds welcome the familiar flavor. “God,” you murmur to yourself, “I missed this.”
“What, doll?” Bucky asks, his nose wrinkling in confusion.
You look up to see two pairs of blue eyes staring at you in confusion.
“Nothing,” you assure them quickly, “It’s nothing.”
“You said you missed this? Did you come here without us? They just opened last week.” Steve chimes in. He’s like a damned dog with a bone.
You’re overwhelmed by the memories the latte has drug up and the guys are pestering you in unison with increasingly teasing questions as to what you meant and how you could have had one before in order to miss it.
Steve is chuckling at Bucky’s last guess, “If she’s able to climb out a window at 2am-”
“Because I have had them before! Okay?!” you snap, cutting him off. “Hundreds of them. I practically lived off them while I was studying for my masters!” You huff out an exasperated breath, your pulse racing with frustration.
“Your what?” Steve chokes out in confusion.
“Oh hell.” You mutter, now you’ve done it. The conversation you’ve been avoiding for two thirds of your life is upon you and somehow you’re still not ready.
“I think this is an at home type of conversation.” Bucky suggests. “Let’s just finish this up and we can head home.”
The three of you drink your lattes quickly and Bucky asks for a paper sack to take your treats home in. None of you are willing to eat anything with the nervous energy buzzing around. You feel like you’re going to vibrate out of your bones between the caffeine and the terror of what you’re about to reveal to your husbands. You can’t even imagine what this will do to your marriage. To your family. The happy plans you had for your retired lives together are turning to ashes in your mind.
You and Bucky take your usual seats on opposite ends of the sofa leaving Steve to opt for the middle seat opposed to his favored recliner. You barely know where to start but the guys are waiting patiently for you to begin. “I know things are going to change after this, but please, please know how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.” You choke back a sob before continuing, “I didn’t move to New York in 1941. I’d lived there since college in 2028….” Slowly, and through a sea of tears, the whole truth comes out. It takes almost an hour and you feel like your insides have been scraped raw between your memories and the quiet tears freely flowing from all three of you. By the time you’ve finished you’re convinced they’ll ask you to leave. They haven’t said a word, just gripped each other’s hands desperately and sniffled at the occasional stray tear.
“We always suspected you had an interesting past.” Steve chuckles wetly, “But I never saw that coming.”
Bucky huffs a teary laugh which brings one of your own up and just like that the tension that’s been brewing for the past hour spills. Steve scoots forward to take you in his arms, peppering you with kisses while Bucky moves in to hug you overtop Steve.
They have questions, lots of them, but you expected they would. The guys take turns; Steve asking about your life growing up and Bucky mostly wanting to know about more “cool future shit” as he’s calling it. You’re discussing the challenges you faced trying to adjust to life in their time after knowing how much better it was for women in the future when Steve gets himself so worked up in self righteous fury that he has an asthma attack. You hold the inhaler patiently to his lips, pressing the cylinder to release his medication for him since his hands still ache. When his breathing evens out enough that you and Bucky are no longer concerned, Bucky starts teasing Steve about trying to be the center of attention despite this being about you.
You spend the full day on that old olive green sofa together. Things you haven’t thought of in ages coming to mind, and you happily share the memories with them. You’re all stiff-muscled and sore by dinner time when you finally get up to rummage through your kitchen for food. The heaviness in the air is gone now, a subdued feeling of relief in its place. You all agree the children won’t be told. It’s better just keeping it between you three. The guys seem to truly understand your reasoning in not telling them and aren’t holding it against you. All in all, they took the news remarkably well. You should have known though. The love you share is the love of a lifetime and something that strong doesn’t just flicker out.
You’re putting three little frozen chicken pot pies in the oven when you hear the guys shouting in outrage over the sound of the television in the living room. You head towards the sound of their discontent.
“Rose!” Steve calls to you, “The MLB just went on strike! Can you believe it?! They’re cancelling 23 games!”
“Oh my god.” you gasp, surprised that the league took such drastic action. Baseball was the only sport watched in your house, both of the guys completely obsessed from July through October every year. It’s going to be odd seeing how this strike plays out and you’re sure the guys will be complaining about it well past when the season ends.
“But you probably already knew that, right?” Bucky teases you lightly.
You stare at him in shock for a moment before swatting him with your dish towel. “Jerk.”
Steve snorts in his effort not to laugh, but Bucky laughs with his whole body, amused by his own self.
“Funny.” you chastise him, “Really funny, guys.”
They settle but are still wearing twin grins of amusement. Throwing an eye roll their way, you head back to the kitchen to start on the salad. After everything, a little teasing is a small price for years of hiding, and one you’re more than willing to pay.