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It’s Friday night, game night, and Harvey sits with the boys on Mike’s lumpy old couch. His bare feet are propped on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. He has been here for a few hours now. His jacket, his, waistcoat, and his tie are folded neatly on the chair in the bedroom.
Mike and he have been dating for over a year. He’s gotten pretty close to Mike’s twin boys, Jaime and Raphy. They’ve tried to establish a healthier routine despite their busy schedules. Tonight However, all hands are on deck for Louis’ case. Mike, being a number’s guy, is on top of the senior partner’s list.
The twins have already changed into the pajamas.
Jamie sits cross-legged on the floor, attempting (but failing) to finish his homework. Every so often, he leans backwards enough that his back grazes Harvey’s leg. Raphy, on the other hand, lays lazily on his stomach while using Harvey’s lap as a pillow. His homework lies abandoned, squished between his legs and the back of the couch.
All three of them are watching a grainy delayed-telecast on the local network. Since he’s taken over baby-sitting duties for Britney tonight, a glass of fresh non-fat milk rests in Harvey’s hands. Two more glasses are on the table along with a plate of freshly baked cookies from Katrina. Outside, a storm looms over Brooklyn.
“Harvey,” Raphy pout at him with big puppy dog eyes that he mastered when he was eight. “I’m hungry.”
Jaime, upon hearing this, joins in. “Pizza, Harvey.” He says with the same big blue-eyes hopeful expression. He shares a look with his younger twin.
“With cheese in the crust!” They say in unison.
“It’s game night!” Jaime asserts, and Raphy makes the connection. “Yeah! Game nights is for pizza!”
Harvey checks his watch, and frowns. It’s nearly ten pm. He glances at the phone beside his foot. No light; Mike still hasn’t replied to his text. Either his boyfriend forgot his phone again or the case is more taxing than he initially assumed.
“I know we do,” he plays along, thinking of an excuse, “but why don’t we wait for your daddy, huh? He really likes the pizza with the cheese in the crust too.”
“But Harvey…” They complain at the same time.
“You said that before the second inning!” Raphy complains.
“It’s already—” Jaime is right behind him, checking the gritty image, “—the eighth inning! The pizza won’t get here in time.”
If there is one thing the Ross Twins got from their father, apart from the unhealthy pizza-loving appetite, it’s the monster brain. The pair have shown consistently high marks on their aptitude tests. It comes to no surprise that they’re a little brainier than what Harvey’s used to.
The Pearson Specter Litt Senior Partner folds to a pair of nine-year-olds.
“Okay, okay.” Harvey gently nudges the twins to move so that he can reach his phone. Jaime grabs it from the table and excitedly hands it over. Harvey smirks. “Thank you, Jaime.”
“Welcome, Harvey.” The boy beams.
Mike definitely did a stellar job at raising his kids.
Harvey unlocks his phone via fingerprint detection. Still no messages from Mike. His brow furrow. Beside him, Raphy crawls all the way to his lap to get his attention.
“Peppuh—pep—peperoni, please, can we get pep—peperoni?”
“Meat!” Jaime adds, “Like last time. No pepper. We hate peppers.”
They simultaneously make a “bleh” sound.
Harvey chuckles at their antics. “Peperoni with a lot of meat, cheese in the crust, with no peppers. Did I get it right?”
“Yes!”
“Mushrooms. Can we add mushrooms?” He asks them. “Mushrooms aren’t as bad as peppers. You’ll barely taste them on the pizza.”
“Then… why add them?” Jaime curiously says.
Harvey only smiles and pats the boy’s head. “Because even if we get pizza, I have the responsibility to try and to make you guys eat something healthy. So, I’ll make you a deal. I trade mushrooms for peperoni. If you don’t like it, you can always pick it off.”
Raphy leans down and huddles to his twin. They noisily confer, and debate, over Harvey’s proposition. They aren’t really stealthy about it but Harvey takes that time to send Mike another message.
To Mike: Ordering pizza with the boys. Still busy?
It surprises him that it chimes no less than a few seconds later.
From Mike: Ya. L = slave driver. Gonna b stck hre a b
From Mike: L caught me. B stck hre longr. <3
It takes Harvey an embarrassingly long time before he stops grinning like a love-struck teenager at his phone. By then, the twins are glowering at him with identical pouts.
“R n’ J to Captain Kirk.” Raphy waves a hand over his face.
Jaime climbs up on the couch to do the same. “Come in, Captain Kirk!”
Harvey gives them an apologetic look. “Sorry. I just texted your daddy.” Their eyes lit up, expectantly. He regrets the news he gives them. “Looks like he’ll be staying in the firm a bit longer. Guess you monsters are stuck with me for the night.” He doesn’t wait for their response. “So, do we have a deal with the pizza? I’ve got the number dialed.”
“Pizza and onion rings!” They decide.
Harvery folds. At least that’s another sort-of vegetable, it’s a start.
“Alright.” He dials the number for Dellarocco’s and orders a party-size meat and mushroom cheese-crust-pizza, extra peperoni, with cheese in the crust, and two orders of onions rings. He orders a full-rack of ribs on a whim. After the bill’s computed, the girl on the line asks him for delivery details.
“Name, sir?”
“Specter, H. Specter.”
“Same delivery address on Manhattan Island, Mr. Specter?”
“No, wait—can I change the name?”
The girl on the line grows quiet but eventually agrees. “Ehrm, okay…?”
Harvey grins in triumph. “Look up an M.Ross on your file. We ordered about two and a half weeks ago.”
There’s typing on the other side of the line. “I’ve got a Brooklyn address…” she rattles it off.
“Yeah. That’s the one.”
“Anything else, Mr. Ross?”
Harvey doesn’t understand but he likes the sound of that. He glances at his watch again: a little bit past eleven. “Tell, your rider that he gets here in forty minutes, I’m doubling the tip.”
“But, sir,” the girl sounds flustered, “there’s a storm.”
He chuckles. “Relax. It’s only an incentive.” With that, he ends the call. The exact moment he does, the go out. Twin squeals come from either side of him. Seconds later, he has an arm-full of Jaime and Raphy on either arm. Thunder strikes ominously close, and they bury their faces into his pits.
Harvey wastes little time feeling embarrassed by his day-long smell of sweat. Instead, he focuses on gathering the boys into one-armed hugs.
Blasted place with no generators, he curses in his head. If only he has already asked Mike to move in with him, this wouldn’t be a problem. They have back-up generators for their back-up generators with all the high-profile tenants in the building. But, alas, he still hasn’t.
“Hey, hey,” he coos gently. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”
More thunder, more lightning, and more rain come from the windows. The old rickety panels creak and groan from the strong winds outside. Jaime and Raphy fail miserably to mask their sniffles. It takes a few tries but he manages to wrestle them both to lay down on his lap.
“Scared,” Raphy says. “No daddy.” It reminds Harvey of the very same words nearly a year and a half ago when he nursed a feverish Mike in his apartment. That had been the very first time he met the twins. He remembers it like it was only yesterday.
“Daddy’s coming home soon.” He reassured both of them. “Then, we can that yummy pizza that we just order, okay?”
“No daddy.” Jaime whimpers as well. Harvey strokes his hair too.
“Hey, little monsters, I promise that daddy’s gonna be here soon. Besides…” He mocks hurt, “Are you both tired of me already?”
In response, they tighten their hold around his belly but their sniffles continue. Harvey feels at a loss. It’s been a long time since he had to baby-sit with the electricity out. He often relied on gadgets to help him through the night even with his own nephew, much to his sister-in-law’s annoyance which is the reasons he seldom gets asked.
He thinks long and hard to recall what his father used to do when things the storm got this bad. Slowly, the first few notes of his father’s old songs comes to his mind. Gordon Specter used to play the saxophone for his two boys on nights like this. He’d cycle through old albums, then solos, until he settled on covering new songs with jazzy instrumentals.
Harvey did the same now. His voice is throaty and deep as he struggles to remembers the first few lines of Gordon’s songs. At some parts, he mumbles out the tune because he completely forgot the lyrics. Neither of the boys care enough to complain since it’s a song older than their father’s time. He sings it anyway, letting the melody take him.
After a while, Jaime and Raphy relax enough that their breathing evens out. They have a weird kinetic habit of drawings random patterns with their fingers. They draw several shapes over his legs and on the palms of his hands.
He keeps singing to old jazz songs that he often plays in the office. He chooses the ones with memories of Mike and him together, and the cases they’ve fought, then won and lost as a pair. His throat starts to hurt but he doesn’t care for as long as Jaime and Raphy are tucked with him.
Harvey picks a song from the drive home two Christmases ago, an old Beatles’ song from the radio which he adds jazzier vocals because he can. It’s one of the more relaxed songs of the British boy band. With it, he remembers the flushed look on Mike’s face as they sang in off-key duet. He doesn’t go off-key tonight but it makes him smile all the same.
~Hey Jude, don’t be afraid~
His voice rasps into a gravelly tone from all the use. It lowers by an octave as he sings.
~You were made to go out and get her~
He strokes their hair again. He falls into a trance with the melody of the rain keeping time as he sings. By then, he doesn’t know how much has passed. All he knows is that his throat burns with the effort to keep singing. He goes on despite the burn, unwilling to let a little discomfort get in the way of providing security to the twins.
Harvey chokes at “nah nah nah…”
A new voice adds into the mix.
~Hey Jude, don’t let me down~
Mike sings in his off-key flamboyant manner that sends Harvey’s heart a flutter. A box of pizza is in his hand. He gestures to the boys without breaking either his stride nor the lyrics. He dips down over Harvey’s head, giving his boyfriend and upside-down Spiderman kiss that should only be allowed in movies on the next interlude. His dripping rain water from his bangs to Harvey’s face.
Harvey cannot help but hum along, voice too sore to continue. He cares not for the slight wetness. The important this is that Mike came home safely.
The change in pace rouse Jaime and Raphy from their daze. They blink their eyes for a few moments more before they recognize their father. With twin grins, they reach up and pull Mike by the ends of his jacket.
“Daddy!” They greet, and quickly notice. “Pizza!” They yell even louder.
Mike barks out a laugh and lowers the pizza right beside Harvey’s shoulder. “I come home late, tired, and drenched, and you two are excited over pizza? I’m hurt.”
Harvey pulls him by his tie and angles in for another kiss, a proper one but chaste. “Don’t worry. I’ve missed you. Welcome back.”
Mike’s breath hitches before he replies. “I’m home.”