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It was such a hot night in Arlen, Texas, that it may as well have been mid-July instead of late May. The cicadas were screaming so loudly that, even though the windows in the Gribble house were shut and the air conditioner was working overtime to try and keep up with the heat, Dale Gribble could hear them perfectly.
It was around ten-thirty, not late enough for him or his wife, Nancy, to have fallen asleep yet. So the two of them lay in bed together, him with a western novel and her with some Hollywood gossip magazine, quiet but comfortable. At least, Dale thought they were comfortable, but then he heard Nancy shift and groan next to him. She put her magazine down, and Dale put his book down.
“Hey, shug,” Nancy said a minute later, her voice sounding strained, like it sometimes did after she’d had a long day recording at the local news station, “can I tell you something?”
“You sure can,” Dale said.
When Nancy grabbed Dale’s hands, her fingers were shaking.
“Look, the thing is—” she started, before trailing off like she couldn’t bear to finish what she’d been about to say. Then, casting her eyes downward, she finally managed to squeak out, “I’m pregnant.”
“Wowie,” Dale whistled, a rush of warmth rising in his chest, “that’s great, Nance, I—”
The implications of it didn’t hit him until after he’d grabbed Nancy’s shoulders, making her jump a little bit as he wrapped her in a hug. When he settled his chin into the crook of her neck, he was in a perfect position to look at the dresser on the other side of the room. The two of them shared the dresser, technically, but the space was mostly Nancy’s. Her hairbrushes, makeup, and overturned canisters of hairspray littered most of the surface. On the tiny left corner were the only things Dale had to set out. Needles, syringes, an old laundry detergent container for the needles and syringes, a bottle of testosterone…
Oh. He pushed Nancy away then, neither hard nor angrily, just enough that he could hold her at arm’s length and look at her, really look at her.
Maybe there was an explanation for this. No, there had to be an explanation for this. Maybe guys like Dale could get people pregnant if they’d had enough testosterone in their systems for a long enough period of time. He hadn’t come across anything like that in his research when he’d started transitioning, a long time ago now, but well, it wasn’t like this was anyone’s area of expertise, not really. Or maybe he’d been abducted by aliens in his sleep or something, which was probably just as likely, and they’d siphoned out his essence and stuck it in Nancy.
The panicked look in Nancy’s eyes told him none of that was true.
“Well, shoot,” Dale said, loosening his grip on Nancy’s shoulders when he realized he was squeezing her a little more tightly than he meant to. “Whose is it? I mean, it’s yours obviously, but... do you even know, or are there, ah, multiple options—”
He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck and wondering if he was making any sense. Nancy looked like she understood. There were tears at the edges of her eyes, threatening to drip down onto her cheeks. Dale wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but he didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms.
“There’s only one person it could be,” Nancy said.
“Well, shoot,” Dale said again, wondering if he sounded like a broken record yet. “How far along are you?”
“Five weeks,” Nancy whispered, like if she spoke more quietly maybe it wouldn’t be true. “I went to the doctor today, actually, after I was done at the station.”
“You said you were shoe-shopping,” Dale said.
He’d believed her, too. He was suspicious of a lot of things, but never of Nancy, not until now. He’d always trusted her because he’d always loved her, ever since she was a high school beauty queen and he, for some reason, was the guy she chose to spend her time with.
Dale crossed his arms. All of a sudden, in bed with his wife and with his shirt off, those old surgery scars on his chest felt bumpier than normal.
Nancy shrugged. “I was going to tell you after the pregnancy test I got from the drugstore, but those tests are wrong sometimes. I wanted to be completely sure before I made a fuss. I didn’t even want to tell you I was going to the doctor if it turned out to be nothing.”
“So, if this hadn’t happened, I would’ve never known?” Dale asked, his voice shaking. “You would’ve just let things go on?”
Nancy buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry, shug. I—”
Dale felt bad for her then. He couldn’t help it. No matter what she did to him, he still loved her. He reached for her again, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close. She was shaking pretty hard now, so he tried to hold her still.
“You probably want me to go,” she wailed.
“Hey there, no,” Dale said, holding her tighter. “That is, unless you want to go… to him, whoever him is, and I will find out—”
Nancy squeaked.
“That’s my kid if you want him to be,” Dale whispered in her ear. He didn’t know why, but he was already sure it was a boy, like he’d always wanted. “We’ll tell the neighbors that too, so they don’t talk, and even if he doesn’t look like me I’ll act like I don’t notice.”
“So they’ll hate me for cheating and they’ll think you’re a cuck?” Nancy demanded. “That’s not fair to either of us.”
“Well, you made your bed,” Dale said pragmatically. “You’ll have to lie in it, won’t you? But I’ll lay down with you.”
Nancy bit her lip.
“You really think he’ll look that different from me? What’s he gonna be, a different color or something?”
Nancy bit her lip harder.
Dale shook his head. At least that narrowed down the list of suspects. Arlen was far from a diverse town.
“I don’t care,” he said, because honestly, he didn’t. “I’ll help feed him, I’ll change his diapers, and when he’s older I’ll learn to play baseball so I can teach him. I’ll love him, if that’s what you want me to do, Nance.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. And if you’d rather leave me for whoever you’ve been sleeping with, the door’s wide open for you. But once you go, you can’t come back.”
Nancy wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. This was the most Dale had seen her cry in ages.
“Oh, shug,” she said, “I—I love you. I don’t know why I do what I do, I just—”
“Shh,” Dale said, “it’s okay now. We’ll figure it out. And if you still want to sleep with that other guy, well, I guess you can. But it’s not his baby, alright? As long as we’re still married and you still love me, I want it to be ours.”
“I know,” Nancy said. “I don’t think he’d want it anyway. All this time, and he’s never asked me to run away with him, or really commit or anything. Not that I would.”
That last part, she rushed out when Dale raised an eyebrow at her.
“It’s not because you don’t satisfy me,” she added, talking really fast now. “I don’t want you thinking that. It’s just, I spend so much of the day alone, and I like some company when you’re not here. I can love more than one person, shug, I think I can, but I love you the most and I just want you to know that.”
“I know,” Dale said, leaning over and smelling her hair. “I know.”
“Whew,” Nancy exhaled. “You know, I really thought you’d yell at me or something.”
“You ever known me to yell?” Dale asked. “I’m not mad, anyhow. Annoyed you didn’t tell me what you were doing until tonight, maybe.”
Nancy made a little noise in the back of her throat that didn’t sound reassured.
“Look,” Dale said, grabbing her chin and tilting it up so she had to look at him. “If you feel that bad, I’ll give you a little spanking after nine months are over. I’d love to do it now, but I won’t with you in your state. Until then, let’s just be happy about the baby, okay?”
Nancy’s eyes went wide, but then she smiled. “Thanks, shug.”
The two of them settled back into bed. Dale didn’t pick up his book and Nancy didn’t pick up her magazine. They just lay against each other, her head resting on his chest. Outside, the cicadas had quieted a little bit, sounding more like a raucous song than a scream. It felt less sticky inside the house now too, like that old air conditioner was finally working.