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"Ted?”
Trent called from the entryway, his voice laced with trepidation. A knot grew in his stomach, tightened with uncertainty and unease.
From the kitchen came the gentle sounds of running water from the tap, intermingled with the telltale sounds of someone shuffling around the island. Trent could easily picture Ted, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, flour dusting his face, wrestling with an unyielding dough that he heard hitting the work surface.
"Yeah?” Came Ted’s warm, Kansan twang.
"Did you actually read that form Henry had us sign?” Trent questioned, hesitant to voice his growing suspicion.
"Ya mean the one he had us sign while I was weeping like a willow in a thunderstorm?” The American chuckled to himself, the sound reaching Trent’s ears fondly, despite the distance between them and the situation at hand. “Can’t say I did, sweetheart. Why?”
Trent swallowed hard.
"Well,” He began, his voice barely above a murmur as he entered the kitchen, “I don't think it was an adoption form.”
He couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers over the thick edge of his warm knitted jumper a few times, an unconscious attempt to settle his growing nerves.
Silence fell upon the room. The dough Ted had been working was left to settle as his face scrunched, crows feet and laugh lines more prominent than ever. In any other situation, Trent would’ve found it hard not to lovingly smooth out the creases on his partner’s face, kissing away any sign of anything but contentment.
Ted’s voice was devoid of its usual lightness as he broke the silence.
"What do you mean it wasn't an adoption form ?”
Trent took a shaky breath, holding out the form towards Ted’s still sticky hand, the dough and flour drying uncomfortably between the coach’s fingers.
"Well,” The paper hung heavy between them, the weight of it suddenly felt overwhelming in Trent’s grip. “It’s a marriage licence, Ted.”
An audible gasp left Ted’s lips, followed by another quieter one as he finally took the paper from Trent’s extended hand, reading over the impossible words.
"Henry?” Ted’s voice boomed from the kitchen, as loud as it would be if he were standing at Nelson Road calling in the team from practice, only laced with a hint of controlled anger and the ever-present sense of confusion that seemed to wash over the afternoon.
Henry, who appeared far quicker than he should have since both men assumed he was still in his bedroom, shuffled into the kitchen. His lower lip was caught between his teeth as he feigned a smile,
“Yeah, Dads?”
“Nope, no sweet talking this time mister.” Ted’s voice was firm and unwavering. “Son, what form did you have us sign?”
Henry mumbled a barely audible response, his eyes darting from his father to Trent and back to the floor.
" Henry ."
"You guys are practically married anyway,” He mumbled just loud enough for the two men to hear him. “I was just giving you a little nudge."
A faint smile pulled at the edges of Ted’s lips, quickly replaced with a stern expression.
"Henry, son,” He said, a large hand landing on the boy’s shoulder, “that wasn't your decision to make. What if Trent had some big proposal planned?" Ted couldn’t help the gentle tease in his partner’s direction. "Or what if we just didn't wanna get married again?"
Henry’s eyes welled lightly with the telltale sign of tears about to spill, “I’m sorry, Dad.” His voice cracked, “I just thought you’d be happy. It’s your anniversary soon, and…”
Ted knelt before his son, who was tall enough now that the action left the boy almost a head above him.
"I know, bud. We appreciate the thought. It shows us how much you care, and how happy you are for us. But next time, let's talk about the big life decisions together, alright?”
Henry nodded, wiping his eyes with a quiet sniffle.
"I'm sorry, Trent.” He mumbled, his voice still thick with shame and now wet with tears.
The silence stretched uncomfortably, heavy with the weight of yet unspoken emotions. Finally, Trent spoke, his voice hoarse as he fought against the burning behind his own eyes.
"You didn't want me to adopt you?”
His question hung in the air, years of insecurities weighing down the words. Ted met Trent’s gaze, his own filled with remorse and understanding. This wasn’t about marriage, he realised with a start, this was about something so much deeper.
Ted glanced at his son, who stood fidgeting between them both, his own eyes steadfastly locked on the floor.
“That’s not it at all, Trent.” Ted said, his voice firm though laced with a newfound empathy. He placed the document on the table and turned to his son, his hand softly landing on Henry’s back, “ Henry ,” He prompted, an invitation for the truth.
Henry, his face burning a deep red, looked up at the ex-journalist.
“I do want you to adopt me, Trent.” The boy insisted, “I swear I do. That’s the form I was lookin’ for, but then I saw the other one and you two are practically married already and I just thought…”
“You meant well, Henry. And we appreciate your enthusiasm, heck, we love you for it, kid.” Ted cupped his son’s cheek and a fond smile, “But you gotta think these things through before jumping straight in without talkin’ to us, alright?” His gaze flickered between Henry and Trent, “These sorts of things need to be discussed together, as a family.”
“I- I didn’t mean to make you sad, Trent.” Henry stammered, his eyes wide with the desperate need to make Trent understand, “I just wanted it to be really official.” He emphasised, “You know, officially my dad and officially dad’s husband .”
The weight of Henry’s words settled on Trent like a physical blow. The pure yearning in the boy’s voice mirrored his own thoughts, thoughts he’d kept under lock and key since the very moment he’d admitted his feelings towards Ted after too many years of pining.
“You know it’s not about a piece of paper though, Henry. It’s about what it signifies.” Trent glanced over at Ted, whose gaze was locked onto his own, then back to the boy in front of him. “We both love you. Adoption, married or neither. It’s unconditional.”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect.” Henry whispered, eyes trained on the floor.
A small smile upturned the corner of Trent’s lips.
“Perfection isn’t real, Henry.” He said gently, “But what we have,” He added, looking at the two American’s that had both taken a starring role in his life, “that’s pretty close.”
He reached out, placing a hand on Henry’s head and ruffling his hair softly. The boy leaned into the touch just a little, a flicker of hope building in his eyes.
“And we can talk about it.” Trent continued, looking over the boy’s head at Ted, “About adoption, about… everything .”
Ted nodded, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. “We can,” He agreed, his voice thick with emotion yet again. “And this time,” He added, his eyes dropping to Henry’s, “we’ll do it together, as a family.”
The silence that followed was different now, lighter, filled with the tentative promise of what the future held for them all. Ted came closer, letting himself lean against Trent’s side. His still sticky fingers kept dutifully away from both his partner and son. Feeling the soft press of lips to his forehead, Ted closed his eyes, a smile curling his lips.