Work Text:
Three months in, it feels like they’re still getting used to leaving the house with the babies. Being at home was undeniably easier, it was where all the diapers and the formula and the muslins and all the other million and one things they needed for the babies lived. Logistically it was easier, but Alex and Henry also needed to leave the house for their own sanity, well their entire family’s sanity really. Even a quick walk with David helped soothe everybody, babies and dog included.
Today they’ve had to venture further afield. Henry is doing all their other errands with Victoria, while Alex does a quick grocery shop with Eleanor. He had had her car seat sitting in the cart, but she’s made her dislike of that known quite clearly, so now Alex is trying to get the baby carrier on properly in the middle of the cereal aisle.
‘Here, mija’ Alex says gently as he unclips Eleanor from the car seat and slides her into the baby carrier, fixing her little limbs and trying to position her head near the soothing tone of his heartbeat.
‘You shouldn’t be spoiling her like that.’
Alex whips his head around to find a short, white, grey-haired woman giving him a stern look. Alex wants to just ignore her, but his mouth doesn’t get the memo before he says
‘Spoil her? She’s three months old, she likes being held.’
‘You’re making a rod for your own back’ the woman shakes her head ‘if you always pick her up when she cries, she’ll expect you to do it all the time.’
‘Eh, yeah’ Alex says, sardonically ‘that’s literally how babies communicate. She cries, I pick her up, that’s how it works.’
Eleanor has nearly entirely quietened against his chest but Alex runs a hand over her head before he kisses the top of it, and she lets out one last little whimper, before she tries her best to scrunch more into Alex’s chest, her peace now found.
‘As I said’ the woman says, now sounding more annoyed ‘you’re gonna spoil her.’
‘Too right I am’ Alex says, kissing Eleanor’s head again ‘here’s some unsolicited advice in return for yours, keep your opinions to yourself, you’re just being rude.’
The woman gasps but Alex has already started pushing the cart away, towards the baby aisle. He’s filling the cart with diapers when a young woman, who also has a baby strapped to her chest, leans across him for another size.
Alex moves over, catching her eye to share an empathetic look. The woman shares it and smiles at him before she pushes her cart away. As she does, the baby against her chest starts to cry and the woman rubs their head and starts to sing. Alex smiles at her again, as she moves out of the aisle.
He can’t help but think about whether the rude woman has any grown children, if she was the type who wouldn’t understand why her kids would go no contact. Alex puts his hand on the back of Eleanor’s tiny precious head and kisses the top of it again. Too right, they were going to spoil their babies.
------------
‘You know breastfed really is best.’
Henry turns his head, and immediately wonders if this is the same woman that Alex encountered before. Does she just go around supermarkets and harass parents? Henry looks at Victoria sitting in the trolley seat. She’s seven months, beautifully plumb—clearly very well nourished—and smiling at everyone that passes her. She’s so happy and cute that she looks like a baby from some fancy catalogue.
Henry takes four tubs of formula off the shelves, and puts them in the trolley, before he turns to the woman and says plainly
‘That’s not an option for us.’
‘Lots of people say that’ the women says, like she’s dispensing the most sage wisdom ‘but you can hire a lactation consultant—’
‘Well’ Henry cuts her off ‘my husband and I, really did try with the lactation specialist, but it didn’t work for some reason, so we’ve had to use the formula. Such a shame that our beautiful, healthy babies are being fed, even without breast milk. You have a good day, now.’
When he’s in the next aisle over, Henry holds Victoria’s pudgy little hand up, and high-fives it.
‘That’s how you deal with rude idiots, sweetie. My grandmother would have a heart attack if she knew I just did that, and isn’t that just the best bonus?’
Victoria laughs and Henry smiles and bends to kiss her head.
‘Where to next, little love?’
------------
‘I know, I know’ Henry says soothingly ‘I know.’
Victoria continues to cry, clutching onto the book for dear life. She’s been crying for close to five minutes, absolutely bereft that her daddies are not letting her get an exact same copy of a book that she already has at home.
She keeps hiccupping and saying ‘no, no, no’ as Henry sits cross-legged beside her and keeps repeatedly saying 'I know’. Both Alex and Eleanor had tried to help at first, but Victoria is still firmly in ‘I’m going to get upset about this’ territory rather than ‘let’s distract you with something else so you stop sobbing’ territory.
Eleanor had tried handing Victoria different books at first, but then looked like she was going to start bawling herself, so Alex had quickly taken her to the nature section, so they didn’t have two inconsolable toddlers, rather than just the one.
‘I want it’ Victoria splutters.
‘I know you do, sweetie’ Henry says, gently ‘but you already have it. We have it at home. It lives on the bookshelves in the living room with all its’ other book friends.’
Victoria looks at him for a moment, and he thinks maybe she’s about to stop crying, but nope.
‘Spoiled little child, just because she’s a princess.’
Henry turns his head, and gives the woman who voiced this a look that could kill.
‘Would you like to say that to my face instead?’ Henry asks, as politely as he can make his tone ‘or was I somehow meant to not hear you say it?’
The woman gapes at him. He hates that it’s always women, and he hates that they’re always the same type of woman, some rude ass right wing middle-aged white woman with a crappy haircut, who thought everyone needed to hear their complaints, because obviously they have the right idea about the world, but no one else does. Henry feels like it isn’t fair to people called Karen, to call them ‘Karens’, but he knows that it’s the closest shorthand there is, the first word that pops into his head.
Nearly all the people he and Alex ever encountered were completely friendly and kind, who told them how beautiful the girls were, how lovely their family was. A lot of the time, people wanted to tell them their personal stories, how Alex and Henry had affected their life in some way, or how they had a queer family member, who felt safer and seen because of their relationship, their love, their family.
Alex and Henry if they had the time always tried to give these conversations the consideration they deserved. It never stopped meaning the world, that they made a difference in peoples’ lives simply by existing.
It does, for the most part, make up for the very few and far between people they ran into, that decided they were going to voice their negative opinion. Henry has no patience for it anymore, especially if they were commenting on the girls.
With the woman still speechless, Henry continues in a calm tone.
‘She’s two. My daughter is two, and she’s still working on figuring out all her big emotions. It is my job as her parent, to help her learn how to do that. In what way would you say she’s spoilt? Because I haven’t yelled at her, when she doesn’t deserve it? Or did you have something else in mind?’
Lily—one one of the booksellers they know—walks by, reshelving some kids books, and looks between Henry and the woman warily.
‘Is everything ok, Henry? Do you need me to grab security?’
‘No, it’s ok, Lily, thanks. This woman was about to explain to me why she thinks Victoria is spoilt.’
Lily—her eyebrows now close to disappearing into her lilac hair—looks at the woman and says in a warning tone
‘Ma’am, if you’re going to harass the other customers, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
‘I wasn’t harassing anyone’ the woman finally exclaims, indignantly ‘he was eavesdropping, and felt the need to comment on my private conversation.’
‘Your private conversation, about my daughter, you mean?’ Henry says ‘that you said quite loudly, being fully aware that I’d be able to hear you?’
Victoria at this moment, with impeccable timing, stops sobbing and plonks herself between Henry’s crossed legs.
‘Read, peas, Daddy’ she says, holding the book out to him.
‘Hey Victoria’ Lily says, bending down to Victoria’s level ‘once you’ve finished your book, do you want to come meet the doggie downstairs?’
‘Yes peas!’ Victoria exclaims, excitedly, waving her little arms ‘Daddy, Ill-ee has a doggie.’
‘I heard, my darling, how exciting’ Henry says before he kisses Victoria’s head and smiles at Lily ‘thanks Lily, we’ll be there soon.’
Lily smiles and goes back to shelving books. The rude woman is no longer there, and when Henry looks for her, sees her walking quickly towards to the stairs. Good riddance to her.
The dog, it turns out is Lily sister’s who is waiting for her sister to finish her shift, in the little café downstairs. Victoria and Eleanor are both so enamoured with the cavapoo named Dusty, that both Alex and Henry are very relieved, when they’re able to leave, without the girls breaking down about not being able to bring the doggie home with them.
------------
Alex sometimes wonders if he’ll ever get bored with how routine their days are, if he’ll ever want to stop frequenting the same places over and over. He knows in the before days, he would have been warned that by going to the same places regularly, people would know where to find him, making it a threat to his safety.
It was rare, in the height of his mom’s presidency, especially in her second term when Alex had a royal boyfriend to boot, that he could go anywhere and ask for his usual, or that he’d know the staff by name and be able to chat idly with them.
Seven years in Austin, and six as parents, and Alex finds the novelty of getting to go to the same places again and again, has yet to wear off. He still makes him giddy that he gets to do it, that they get to do it.
That they get to bring their daughters to a playground near their house, and then to their favourite café afterwards. Ok, so the day could do without the first-aid box open on the table, but it’s nothing new, dealing with frequent minor injuries, nothing Victoria doesn’t take in her stride.
‘What’s happening here?’ Caoimhe asks, as they arrive at the table with a notepad in hand.
‘I fell at the playground’ Victoria tells them matter-of-factly ‘I scraped my arm, Daddy’s going to kiss it better.’
‘I am’ Henry says as he pats the dinosaur Band-Aid into place, before kissing Victoria’s arm.
‘Thank you, Daddy’ Victoria chirps, before holding her arm out to Alex, who leans in and kisses it too.
‘Thank you Papa’ she smiles at him before she turns to Caoimhe and tells them ‘My daddies always kiss the ouchies better. I get lots of ouchies because I love playing.’
‘Well,’ Caoimhe says ‘playing is good, Victoria, even if it means ouchies.’
‘That’s what my daddies say’ Victoria says, with great authority in her voice ‘can I have a grilled cheese, please Caoimhe?’
‘Sure, sweetie’ Caoimhe smiles at her ‘one grilled cheese coming up, what do the rest of you guys want?’
‘What’s the soup today?’ Henry asks.
‘Lentil and butternut squash.’
‘Ooh, yes please’ Henry says ‘would it be weird if I got the grilled cheese with it?’
‘You be as weird as you want Henry, surely you’ve eaten weirder things in your prince days?’
‘There was unfortunately a lot of dry mutton’ Henry grimaces ‘point taken.’
‘Hey’ Caoimhe says, dipping their hands to frame their face ‘you don’t ever need to look further than the Irish to disparage the royals. Present company excluded, of course.’
‘I’d hope so’ Henry says, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
‘Can I have the same as my beautiful husband, please Caoimhe?’ Alex grins, as Henry turns slightly pink.
‘You know,’ Caoimhe says, rolling their eyes with exasperated affection ‘sometimes you guys can make a single person feel a bit wretched. You have any nice single friends for me?’
‘You’re—?’ Henry says leadingly.
‘Pansexual’ Caoimhe supplies.
Alex looks at Henry and then at Caoimhe. Alex wishes he and Henry had known before that Caoimhe was looking, they’ve never mentioned it before, and Alex feels retroactively bad for not trying to set them up.
‘Leave it with us’ Alex says, already looking through his mental rolodex.
Caoimhe grins before kneeling down beside Eleanor.
‘Hey Eleanor, what would—’
‘Excuse me’ says an irritated voice right beside them ‘am I ever going to get any service? Or are you just going to stand around chatting all day?’
Before Caoimhe can reply, Victoria turns to the man and says scoldingly
‘You’re not using your manners.’
The rude man’s eyes bug, and Alex’s heckles rise, about ready to pounce on this toerag, if he goes anywhere near any of his family.
The man looks at Alex and Henry instead of Victoria and says like they’re the dirt on the bottom of his shoe
‘Yeah, well at least my kids aren’t covered in fifty million bruises. I have a good mind to call CPS.’
‘They’re ouchies from playing’ Victoria tells him angrily.
‘So you say’ the man scoffs at Victoria, before looking at Alex and Henry again ‘get away with murder, you would, just because you’re famous.’
‘Ok’ Caoimhe says assertively ‘you can get out. I’m not having you be rude to my favourite customers, or to anybody. Come on, out you get.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘Yes they can’ Victoria tells him ‘Caoimhe’s in charge, and you have to use your manners.’
Alex and Henry look at each other, debating whether to intervene or let their six-year-old continue on as she is. A shard of fear pierces Alex, all too aware at how quickly a situation like this can get violent, but underneath he’s unbelievably proud of his fearless daughter, and also probably far too pleased about being Caoimhe’s favourite customers. He shouldn’t feel so excited at getting an A+ in being a good customer while an angry man is right next to him, but alas, his praise kink never lets up.
‘What, are you going to drag me out?’
‘If I have to’ Caoimhe shrugs, before looking at Alex and Henry ‘I’m pretty sure I’d get some help.’
Alex and Henry both nod assuringly at Caoimhe and the man looks between them all, before he lets out a series of exaggerated breaths and shoves his seat back, muttering a slur as he does so.
‘That’s a mean word!’ Victoria shouts after him.
‘V,’ Alex says, putting his hand on top of hers ‘he’s not a very nice man. He knows it’s not a nice word, he’s just trying to be hurtful.’
‘Why Papa?’ Victoria asks, just as there’s a loud thump and they all swivel their heads to find the man flat on the floor.
‘Oh sorry’ an older woman at the nearest table says as she rearranges her walking stick ‘my stick must have slipped.’
The man gets up, red faced, throws in a few more slurs and crashes out of the door.
Victoria looks at her daddies and says very seriously
‘No one will kiss his ouchies better if he’s so mean.’
‘No’ Alex smiles at his daughter ‘no, they won’t. And he was being hurtful because he was embarrassed, sweetie. It doesn’t really make much sense, some people just try and be hurtful when they don’t get their way, to try and make the other person feel bad.’
‘That’s not very nice’ Victoria says.
‘No’ Alex says ‘no, it’s not.’
‘He was a mean man, Daddies’ Eleanor says and Alex is dismayed when he looks at her and sees that she has tears running down her face, her hand clutching Henry’s so tight, his skin is white as paper.
‘He was, darling’ Henry says, kissing Eleanor’s head ‘but he’s gone now, yeah? It’s all ok now. We’ll always protect you, we promise.’
Eleanor sniffs and nods and Henry pulls her onto his lap where she curls into his chest, looking at Caoimhe as she does so.
‘Can I have a stuffing sandwich, please Caoimhe?’
‘Of course you can, Eleanor, do you want cranberry sauce on it?’
‘Uhuh’ Eleanor nods.
‘Coming right up.’
Caoimhe walks back behind the counter and Alex realises quite a lot of people are looking their way, but they all have outraged or sympathetic looks on their faces. They give knowing little nods to Alex as he catches their gazes, the woman at the next table, smiling brightly at him before she says
‘I hope you don’t take any heed of idiots like that’ she taps her walking stick on the floor ‘I must say it’s an advantage of being old sometimes, whoops there you go, you bigot, sorry my stick slipped.’
Alex laughs and the woman gestures to her table partner, who wiggles her fingers at them.
‘My wife and I have been together since the eighties, and we’ve long since lost patience with rude people. No time for it.’
‘Yeah,’ Alex says as Henry nods and smiles at the women ‘we’re the same, no time for it at all.’
‘They don’t deserve our time or energy, not when we have much better ways to spend both.’
‘Exactly’ Alex says ‘exactly that.’
‘I’ll leave your beautiful family be, but’ the woman’s smile widens as she says ‘I feel like I have to tell you, we got a pair of labradors a few years ago and we named them Alex and Henry after you.’
Alex beams, suddenly glad to have a reason to talk to this woman. It reminds him of what he already knows: most people are good, and are absolutely indignant at the rude people too.
Victoria pipes up to tell the women about David and Baymax, and she swaps seats to keep talking to the couple. Henry chuckles, looking at Alex as Victoria natters away, and Alex knows Henry is thinking the same as him: what a wonderful thing it is that Victoria happily talks to everybody. Well, except bigots, but she can definitely handle them, no question.
‘Papa’ Eleanor says, having been drawing while sitting in Henry’s lap, her face now free of tears.
‘Yeah, my love?’
‘Can I give them my picture?’
Alex takes it carefully, and finds Eleanor has drawn two stick women holding hands, two dog stick figures, and a rainbow above them all.
‘Of course you can, El.’
Eleanor is shy but her face lights up when the women praise her drawing effusively, before they put it away with the upmost of care.
After they eat lunch, they all have cake, as Iris and Maude tell them riveting stories from their younger years. This, Alex thinks as he takes a bite of tres leche, is why the novelty has yet to wear off. Yeah some people were idiots, but their favourite places they frequented had yet to stop introducing them to yet more awesome people, and he doesn’t think that will ever get old.
