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The phone in his pocket gave out a tinny version of the Casper the Friendly Ghost theme, and not for the first time Mitchell considered changing it to something less…well, ghostly. But Annie had chosen it, thinking it appropriate and amusing, so he left it alone. “Hi, Annie…no, we’re still waiting…Anders is doing all right.” That wasn’t exactly true; his fiancé was pale, and had turned the pages of the magazine he was holding from cover to cover, but Mitchell was willing to swear he hadn’t read a word of it. “When we have something to tell you, I’ll call…yes, no matter what happens. I promise.” Whatever Annie said at the end pulled a reluctant smile from him as he murmured a goodbye and replaced the phone in his pocket.
“Annie said to tell you to calm down before you have a stroke,” he said, nudging Anders. “She doesn’t want to see you on her side of the divide for a long time. And she said to tell you,” he added to the dark-haired man sitting at the table, “to use your fatherly wisdom and keep us from freaking out.”
Ty snorted. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. I’m the dad of a toddler, not a miracle worker.” He’d come along for moral support today at Dawn’s insistence and lounged at the table in the agency’s waiting room. “Somehow I don’t think piggy back rides and bedtime stories are going to be much help today. Tell you what—you get through this interview and I’ll take you for ice cream afterward. How’s that?”
“Only if you make it a vodka float,” Anders muttered, turning another page of the magazine. He’d sat down for a while when they’d first come in, but his nerves wouldn’t allow him to stay still for long. He and Mitchell had discussed this for weeks, and now that they were about to set the wheels in motion, he was second-guessing their decision. He knew Mitchell was going to be an awesome father—caring, patient, with love to spare. That didn’t worry him. What scared him was himself. He knew what he was like, or had been like before the Irishman had come into his life—living for the next deal, the next drink, the next shag, trying to cover up the hurts in his past with hedonism. That wasn’t a primer for future parental responsibilities.
Mitchell, against all the odds and every bit of logic, had changed that. He wanted stability now, he wanted ‘normal’. He wanted to wake up to the same person every day, the person that had taken his fractured life and made it into something worth living. And he’d seen what a success one Johnson had been as a father, despite a less than stellar example from Johan. Ty was amazing, and Dawn had a hard time getting ‘mommy time’ with their daughter Roxanne when Papa was home. And little Roxy adored Unca Andy and Unca John, wrapping them both around her chubby little fingers. Anders jokingly called her a ‘practice kid’, but discovered he was pretty damn good at the whole babysitting and nurturing thing.
When they started talking marriage, Anders and Mitchell had also started talking family. There were a ton of kids who needed homes, and adoption for gay couples had become much easier in the last few years. Part of him was scared spitless about the idea of raising a child, but a larger part wanted to give a kid the kind of home life he never had—parents that were always there, unconditional love and acceptance, and belief in that child’s dreams, whatever they were. In Mitchell’s case, one parent would truly always be there (and that was something that would eventually have to be explained to a child). The two of them went back and forth, making lists of the pros and cons, and it had finally boiled down to a desire to share their love with another human who needed it.
So they waited in the agency’s outer office. It was designed to be cheerful—books and magazines available, music that could be popped into a couple of CD players with headphones, bright colors on the walls, even a comfortable corner full of building blocks, stuffed animals, and picture books for ‘getting to know you’ time with prospective adoptees. The vibe felt good here, but Anders had learned the hard way over the years not to get his hopes up; too many times he’d had them cut out from under him. Maybe they should just chuck it in and cut their losses…
“Mr. Johnson and Mr. Mitchell?” A ginger haired woman poked her head out of the office door, and Anders nearly dropped the magazine. Mitchell plucked it from his hands, fingers brushing his and brown eyes smiling down. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down and his hands to stop shaking. “Come on in, and I apologize for the wait. It’s been that sort of a day. We had a small crisis with some missing paperwork, but it’s been sorted.”
Anders glanced over at Ty as Mitchell gently steered him toward the woman’s office. His brother smiled and gave him a thumbs up, and the blond squared his shoulders. “Be honest, tell her the truth, and don’t try to bullshit her. She’s not one of your clients, and the kid deserves that much,” Ty had advised, and Mitchell had nodded in agreement. “You’ll do fine, both of you.”
They were in the office for a good while, and when they came out, Anders was looking a bit shell-shocked. Mitchell, however, was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you, Ms. McGinnis,” he said to the adoption coordinator. “We’ll be waiting for your call.” Hands were shaken all round, and the next couple was called in. Mitchell and Anders came over to the table, and Ty rose, waiting for the news. “I think we’re in! There’s a boy in foster care right now and Ms. McGinnis thinks he might be a good fit for us. He’s three, so he’ll be able to go to pre-school soon, but we’ll get time to get to know him and settle him in. If he likes us, that is. She’s going to set up a meeting for us later this week. His name is David. That was my da’s name; it’s like it’s an omen.” Mitchell was bubbling, but Anders was still silent.
“You okay, Anders?” Ty asked.
The quiet question seemed to snap Anders out of his reverie and a slow smile full of wonder blossomed on his face, deepening the dimples Mitchell loved so much. “Yeah, I’m fine. Better than fine. I just…I can’t believe we’ve got a shot at this. She loved the idea that I’ve got a successful business, and that Mitchell is a nurse, and there is extended family close by. And she actually knows Mike—he did some renovation work for her a couple years back. And I told her about how Dad wasn’t around much, and about Mum—not that she was a tree or anything, but that she fucked off, and that I learned from them what not to do, and I’d learned the hard way how to look after little ones. She said David came from a home like that, and needed all the stability he could get. She wanted to know when Mitchell and I were going to get married, and said maybe we could get David to help with planning the wedding, to make him a part of it all.” From being silent, the words had begun bubbling out of Anders, and he found himself getting more and more excited the longer he talked. “Anyway, it’s not a done deal yet. There’s going to be a meet and greet, then home visits and all that, but I didn’t think we’d even get this far.”
Ty’s smile rivaled his brother’s. “I told you it would be all right. And he’s three? Just the right age for Roxy to have a new playmate. Dawn will be thrilled. Oh, speaking of, I got a call from Dawn while you were in there. She told me to ask you two to come for dinner, but you’ve got plans to make…”
“They’ll wait until tomorrow,” Mitchell said after a non-verbal communication with Anders. “Family comes first. And speaking of family…” He fished his phone out of his pocket, hit a number on his speed dial and simply said, “It’s looking good so far.” The squeal of delight was clearly audible to the other two men as Mitchell pulled the phone away from his ear in self-defense. “I’ll call you back later with details, yeah? Love you, too.” He pulled both Johnsons into a hug. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ty said. “I think my big brother here could use a stiff drink.”
“Actually…” Anders said, a light blush coloring his cheeks, “do you mind if we take you up on that offer of ice cream? I’m thinking double chocolate chip, maybe with caramel sauce and sprinkles?”
“I’ll even throw in whipped cream and a couple cherries,” Mitchell laughed, pulling his fiancé in for another hug. Anders leaned into the embrace, wrapping the love around him like a warm blanket on a cold day. He’d seen kintsugi pottery in a high-end antique shop once, and had wondered at the time why anyone would bother putting broken crockery back together with gold. What was the point? Now, he understood. Just because it wasn’t perfect didn’t mean it was worthless, and it could become something rare and beautiful in the right hands. Mitchell had his cracks and breaks, Anders was just as broken, but gold filled the mended spots now, binding them and making them shine. And their child would be just as precious and as treasured—they would both see to that.