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Martin held little baby Cordelia close as he fed her her evening bottle. Louisa was napping upstairs, and Mark seated next to him on the couch. Martin spent most days transfixed by how little and new Cordelia was. Their little bundle of joy with barely any hair and only two months old.
After she was firmly latched onto the feeding bottle, Martin hazarded a glance up at Mark to find him looking at him with a fawning gaze. He wasn't sure he'd ever get over how big and soft his dark brown eyes could get. He chuckled, "What?"
"Nothing." Mark leaned into his arm hung over the back of the couch then continued, "You and Louisa are so good together. I was just thinking that you guys should have a baby. You would make such smart beautiful babies together."
Martin's brow furrowed. Louisa was still recovering from her first. It would be some time before she could even have a chance at conceiving another. And that had been enough of an ordeal, he wasn't sure a second would be advisable. And besides she had not said anything to that effect to him yet. He shook his head. "Mark, where is this coming from? Louisa has mentioned nothing to me, and we're all still neck deep with Cordelia."
He shook his head. "Just my brain. So nowhere." He shot Martin a wide grin. "I'm just so happy to be with you guys. And it doesn't feel like a third wheel or nothing. You guys are so nice. Thank you. You didn't have to-"
"What-what are you talking about?" Martin cut him off as his words swam around his head. A tight twinge of apprehension built in his chest. Mark wasn't making sense.
"Well you two are like destined for each other and stuff," he explained. "And I'm just the best friend, but you let me be a little bit more than that and I really appreciate it." His big grin never left his face as he spoke.
But a dreadful ache spread across Martin's chest. How could he think any of that were true? After all this time? After everything? He wanted to pull him into his arms, but they were occupied by a tiny hungry baby. And disturbing her meal was going to be worse than whatever was going on with Mark.
He shuffled closer toward him so he could make sure he was getting his point across. "Mark, I love you. This isn't some third wheel pity partner thing."
"Aw, you're just saying that." He scrunched his nose in a big smile and patted his knee.
Martin shook his head emphatically. "No, I'm not. I promise you that you mean quite a bit to me." He was at a loss for words. He didn't know how he could make himself more clear. Usually, he could rely on Mark to intuit his feelings. The number of times he'd said exactly how he was feeling was staggering. But maybe it was luck, because now Mark was so far off the target, he wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry.
When words failed there was always one thing he could opt for. With one hand still holding Cordelia steady, Martin reached over to Mark. He tipped his head up and leaned over to plant a strong lingering kiss on his lips. It was an awkward position, but he didn't care. He kissed him a second time and by the third, Mark had scootched in and put an arm around them steady him. Their kiss deepened but only lasted a short time before Cordelia got fussy at the cramped awkward angle and began to wriggle in his arms.
Martin pulled away to attend to her. Her bottle was nearly empty. He tried to get her to take it again, but after she pushed it away a couple of times, he gave up. She was finished eating which meant he had to burp her. And whatever was going on with Mark would have to wait.
"Stop being weird. I love you." He said with a sense of finality before he kissed Mark square on the forehead. Then he stood and headed to the kitchen to put the bottle away and prepare for messy baby burps.
He meant to corner Mark alone again before the end of the night but he never found the right opportunity. And by morning he'd hoped it was just a blip. He dressed and headed into the clinic. A series of annual check-ups and various cuts and sprains kept him busy so he'd completely forgotten by the time he came home.
He walked in the front door to see Louisa cleaning baby bottles in the kitchen. He placed his bag in the entryway and hung up his blazer in the closet, then crossed the living room into the kitchen while rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie. He watched her for a second, elbow deep in suds dressed in an oversized tattered t-shirt, sweatpants, and fluffy slippers. She looked beautiful in anything and here was his proof.
But he would not let her finish the washing up on her own. He closed the last few feet and placed a tender kiss on her temple. She jumped slightly then breathed a sigh of relief leaning into him.
"Welcome home." She turned her head and kissed him on the lips. Happy to distract her for a moment, Martin wrapped an arm around her waist and deepen their kiss letting all the frustrations and weariness of the day melt away and simply bask in her warmth.
Eventually, he pulled back and asked, "Can I help?"
Louisa nodded toward the counter. "There's a towel there."
He picked it up and got to drying all the little bottles, the pump equipment, plates and bowls from meals, pots, spoons, and various kitchen utensils. They worked in a comfortable silence for a time. When Louisa finished up with washing, she shifted to prepping vegetables for dinner.
After Martin put the last dish away, he eased in behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach and tucking his head into the crook of her neck. He stayed there swaying with her for a moment breathing her in with his eyes shut tight. A special type of zen washed over him, and after a moment he shifted to wrest his chin on her head and look out the kitchen window.
A thought struck him at the quietness of the kitchen and the house in general. "Where's Mark?"
"Putting Cordelia to bed," Louisa hummed.
Martin made a noise of understanding then settled back into their gentle sway.
"You know, what you and Mark have is so special," Louisa mused.
The statement caught him off guard. "What we have," he said with a corrective questioning lilt. "The three of us." He moved his hand with a pointed finger in a triangle pattern as he said it.
She laughed, "Oh, of course. That too. But you two are really something. I'm just the one with the baby. Just the mom."
He pulled away to look at her square on. He found her to be sincere and content as she sliced carrots. She couldn't be? She couldn't really think that? He started feeling deja vu from the night before with Mark. He shook his head in disbelief. "Louisa, darling, you're not just anything. You're amazing. And I love you."
"Oh, don't get me wrong," she popped a carrot in her mouth then continued as she chewed, "this is a great arrangement. The help with baby care alone. And I really love you guys. I'm just so glad that we could make this work with you and Mark and then me."
"No this is not-" he trailed off aghast. First Mark and now Louisa. Did no one think he truly loved them? It was madness. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts. "You and Mark must be sleep deprived." It was the only thing that made sense at this point.
He marched off into the living room to shout up the stairs. "Family meeting!"
"What-Martin! It's nap time. And I have to make dinner," Louisa said as she rushed into the living room drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
Mark rushed downed the stairs in remarkable silence with an angry look on his face. He stepped up to Martin jamming a finger into his shoulder. "You are so lucky Cordy sleeps like a champ. Like a rock. All zees. Or you'd be in trouble, mister."
"Ow." Martin recoiled from his finger then straightened and uncreased his shirt. "Look, we need to talk. As a family. You two, " he waggled a finger between the two of them, "are acting crazy. Are you two pranking me? What is going on?"
Mark shook his head with a look of innocence. "I would never prank you. Either of you."
"What are you talking about, Martin?" Louisa asked.
"Both of you have expressed to me in private that you are happy to just be a part of this, whatever we're doing."
They looked at each other then back at Martin and shrugged, "Well, of course."
He took in a shaky breath as his shoulders tensed. "You can't both of you be the third wheel in this. That doesn't add up. And it's not true. So either you're both crazy from sleep deprivation or are pranking me. Because the only other option is that I am the third wheel, and you are both gaslighting me."
Louisa and Mark started into firm denials and gentle consoling as they hunkered around him with soft arms and little pats. He threw them off. "Enough!"
"The baby, shh." Mark urged in a hushed voice.
He huffed. "So are we all aligned? I love you both equally," he waved a hand between the two of them, "and you reciprocate that love," he pulled his cupped hands toward himself, "for me and for each other equally," he made a circle with a pointed finger. "Yes?"
"Yeah, but we all know that you have a favorite," Mark said with a nervous chuckle.
Louisa nodded eagerly and asked, "Yeah, who's your favorite?"
He shook his head and waved his hands. "I don't have a favorite," he urged. Then her words caught up in his head. "Wait, do you have favorites?" he asked hesitantly with a frown.
They both shook their heads in an emphatic 'no'.
Martin threw his arms out in frustration. "Then why do I have to have a favorite?"
"Because you do. Who is it?" Louisa asked again just as energetically as the first time.
He groaned. He was getting nowhere. But he had to just keep denying it in hopes it would eventually stick. "I don't have a favorite."
"Oh come on, you can tell us, babe. We won't be mad," Mark insisted.
This would pass, it had to. It was sleep deprivation. And just as he was about to go into another speech about loving both of them, Cordelia began to cry from her bedroom.
Mark made a move toward the stairs, but Martin cut him off with a hand on his chest. "No, you know what. You're right I do have a favorite."
The corner of Mark's mouth curled up as he presumably thought it was him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Martin agreed sarcastically. "It's Cordelia. You two need more sleep and to get a grip. It's not a competition. I love you. Both of you. But you're driving me up the wall." And with that he retreated up the stairs and into Cordelia's bedroom, leaving the other two to dinner prep and their nonsense.
He picked up the crying Cordelia from her crib with a cooing shushing noise. He pulled her close to his chest and started to rock as he spoke softly to her, "Thank you for the rescue. Your mommy and pops are talking crazy and confusing Daddy." She began to quiet, and he twirled her around before taking a seat in the rocking chair.
"You're much more sensible than them," he said as she began to suckle on her pacifier quietly. She curled her hands in and settled into his chest. He kissed the top of her head covered in her little knit cap. Then he whispered, "You're my favorite."