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“You’re sure you’re not jealous?” Ryan asks.
“Of course I am,” I whisper, stroking his back with one hand and his warm, fluffy hair with the other. I’m standing on the second to last step of the stairs in the foyer, so I’m close to his height, and his head can actually rest on my shoulder as he hugs me tightly. “You’re going on a trip with Denis, so I’m jealous of you and he’s going on a trip with you so I’m jealous of him.”
He chuckles, kisses my neck. “We don’t mean to do that to you.”
“Oh, shush and just enjoy yourselves. You both deserve a break, been working so hard. But be ready to work again when you come back.”
“No rest for the weary,” he mumbles, then sighs. “I wish you were coming.”
I smile, shake my head. “No you don’t. I’ve already had some time alone with each of you, but you two haven’t been with each other… anywhere. It’s about time you had the chance to be romantic, just the two of you. Aren’t you looking forward to that?”
“Of course I am,” Ryan replies with a bright smile, then stares off into space for a moment. “I’ve daydreamed about it honestly. I’m so used to seeing Denis’s sweet thoughtfulness spread around to everybody, but to have that attention concentrated on one person for once… and to be that person…” He turns and blinks up at me, eyes slightly misty. “I’m so lucky to get that from both of you.”
I blush, kiss his cheek, then pause as I hear some commotion in the kitchen echo down the hall toward us. I immediately recognize the kids’ voices and Denis’s as well.
“Clearly they’re looking for you,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. He steps back and I step down, and we regard each other a moment before we’re no longer alone. Despite, or perhaps because of, his no-frills plain travelling outfit of thin grey sweats and an old Bulls basketball tshirt under a grey hoodie, he looks handsome as ever. Humble and handsome. “Better head back down to the beach house. Joliver’s swinging down there with the car to take you to the airport.”
My ninth husband steals a quick but firm kiss and winks at me. “We’ll miss you, Clicquot.”
I smile and touch his cheek. “We’ll miss you too, Beanpole. Be good boys.”
He nods just as Denis and the kids enter the foyer.
“Oh, vous voilà!” Denis says, grinning, dressed in loose, black trousers and a plain black turtleneck shirt, his go-to comfy airplane clothes.
“We were wondering where you were hiding, Papi!” Penélope says, grabbing at his hand. “Miramos a todas partes!”
“I wasn’t hiding,” he says, kneeling down to give her a hug. “Just bidding your mom a fond farewell.”
“What about us?” William asks timidly.
Ryan tugs both him and Perdita over and hugs them as well, kisses both their heads. “You be good for mom and all your dads, OK? We’ll be back before you know it.”
“Don’t be too fast,” Penélope declares. “We want to finish the surprise before you get back!”
“Well, we’ll try our best, but we can’t rush great art, kids,” I say, stepping closer to Denis so I can take his hand. “If you learn nothing else from your dads, it should be that.”
Denis nods, picks up my hand to kiss it, then pulls me into a hug. “Au revoir, Sayaddina. We will check in with you with our progress.”
“Send pics of you two all bundled up out on the ice. And have fun.”
He sighs, stares into me a moment. “The three of us should take a trip someday, non?”
“That would be lovely,” I say, winking. “Now is for you two, though. It does my heart so much good to know you’re going off together. I love you both so much.”
“Je t’aime, my love. And thank you again for the opportunity.” Denis kisses me, rubs my back. “Now, don’t let the kids watch the rest of Star Wars without us.”
“Ne t'inquiète pas. I will make them wait.”
***************
Later, I’m in the living room, catching up on Jon and Stephen’s shows while the kids are down in the basement fooling around with Jon and Stephen, when Joliver gets back from his Uber duty and joins me on the sofa.
“Everything good?” I ask as he sits down beside me.
He leans back, arms stretched out along the headrest. “Done and done, Madam. You know, Denis blends in to a crowd pretty well, being such a friendly middle-aged dad type, but it’s really heard to hide Ryan’s identity in public. He’s got such a face.”
I grimace, shake my head. “Yeah, I know. I’m always tellin’ him, it’s a good thing he’s so funny because—”
“There’s not much else going for him?”
I nod and he chuckles, leans closer to me.
“With a face like mine, I understand,” he says.
I giggle and lean even closer, kiss his cheek. “Thank you for taking them.”
He nods, kisses me back. “So, thinking of bidding on any of Stephen’s Late Show eBay haul?” he asks, indicating the bit currently playing on the TV. “I can probably get you anything for free. I know a guy.”
I sigh heavily, frown, cross my arms over my chest. “What am I gonna do when Stephen’s off the air? And Jon will only be on TDS for so long… you’re my only hope for regular hilarity going into the dark future, you know.”
“Oh, Madam,” he says, patting my shoulder, “Don’t put the entire burden on me, I can’t hold a candle to your husbands.”
I sigh again, lean my head on his shoulder and blink away some tears. “I hate everything going on out there. To think we lived through the W. Bush years thinking that was as dumb as things could get. Jon and Stephen carried me through it all.”
Joliver frowns, reaches over to rub my knee soothingly. “I promise to do my best, Twiglet. If that’s any consolation.”
I smile, place my hand over his. “I appreciate your service more than you could ever know. And I love you.”
He beams. “I love you too, Madam. You know I’m dead inside, but still somehow you manage to tug my heartstrings.”
********
I head upstairs to bed—actually kinda looking forward to a solo sleep—but then I see William standing at my master bedroom door, with one hand held behind his back, holding a small box, as he reaches up to knock.
“Liam, sweetheart?”
He jumps, spins around in surprise at my voice coming from behind him. He blushes, giggles nervously a moment as he fails to hide that he has something for me. “Mamma, I know it’s past my bedtime, but I am on a mission.”
I walk over, squat down in front of him and kiss his cheek. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
He shrugs, hands me a familiar black jewelry box with a ribbon tied around it. “I had to wait until he left to give it to you, but then I forgot, but then I remembered so here it is. I didn’t mean to stay up late, I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, sweetie,” I say with a big grin, shaking my head. I scruffle his hair and kiss his forehead. “Who gave this to you?”
“Papi,” he replies, then pauses before frowning. “I miss him.”
I mirror his frown a bit. “It’s only been a few hours, dear, he’s been gone longer for work—”
“I know, but… he took Papa with him.”
“Papa’s been gone longer as well—”
“Yeah but… that was to go to work. They’re not at work. They’re in Canada. Why didn’t they take us with them?”
My heart breaks a little and I pull him into a hug. “Liam, sometimes… daddies need some time to themselves. Mommies need time to themselves too.” I pull back, look into his still-skeptical face. “Don’t you like time to yourself? You go in your room and have quiet time doing your Legos and reading and stuff, right?”
He nods a few times, wipes at his eyes. “Yeah.”
“It’s kinda like that. When you grow up and you have a job and money, you’ll want to spend time away from here, the take a break, by yourself or with someone else.”
My son furrows his brow, sniffles a bit as he plays with the bow on the box. “Will you go on vacation with me, momma?”
I fight my own tears and smile. “Sure, sweetie, if you want to. One day we will. But for now, let your daddies have their vacation. You have seven other daddies to hang out with tomorrow, you know. And your sisters need your help with the project. You’re very important around here. You have to get work done before going on a vacation. Just like Papa and Papi.”
“OK,” he says with a nod, then points at the box. “Can I see what that is?”
I grin, stand up, take his hand as I open the bedroom door. “Sure. Let’s go sit inside for a minute OK?”
He follows me in and I shut the door behind us. I pick him up and set him on the end of the bed and I sit down beside him. “Let’s see what Papi’s done this time,” I say, untying the ribbon and taking off the lid. There’s a little folded up note under it, and I unfold it first, quickly read Ryan’s tiny handwriting, already feeling the tears return:
So you don’t forget us while we’re gone. Happy Valentine’s Day, Madam.
Both Ryan’s and Denis’s signatures are on the back, along with little hearts and Xs and Os. I manage to transform a heartfelt sob into a little laugh, but William senses my feelings and immediately hugs me. I wrap one arm around him as I pick up the box in my lap, try to focus my watery eyes on the poppyseed silver ring inside. I smile, still touched despite my moratorium on Valentines gifts. So defiant, those two.
“It’s so small,” William observes, tapping the ring in the box.
“Your momma has tiny hands,” I say, taking it out and slipping it on my pointer finger, where it shines daintily. Then I turn to my son and he stares up at me, looking exhausted.
“Am I going to have a sister or a brother?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing his eyes.
I hug him closer against my side. “What do you think?”
He hangs his head timidly, shrugs. “There are so many dads around, not enough girls… I like being your only boy.”
I consider his choice of words, his frank confession, and I am struck with a flash flood of protectiveness for him. He’s always been as much my boy as he is my husbands’, and we all treat him as such, but I am suddenly self-conscious, knowing that William does not know his true parentage. The girls understand theirs, and it doesn’t diminish how they treat all their dads, but early on, Ryan, Denis and I made an unspoken pact in our hearts to let William believe he is biologically mine. In this moment, thinking about it deeply for the first time, I find I haven’t the heart to consider telling him anytime soon.
My little boy yawns again, nearly toppling over, but I hug him with both arms, kiss the top of his head. “Want to stay with me tonight, buddy?”
He nods, then smiles sleepily. “I already brushed my teeth.”
“Good job, but I have to brush mine and take a quick shower, so why don’t you warm up the bed for me while I’m in the bathroom?”
Ten minutes later, I find him already passed out under the covers in the center of the bed. I crawl in beside him, snuggle up, but try not to disturb him. I take a minute to study the serene features of his oval face, how he’s a perfect blend of his fathers, how he’s a rare little gift they’ve given me, perfectly entrusted to me while they’re away.
“Good night, sweet prince,” I whisper with a sigh.