One Bright Star (3 page)

“There was a giant chicken, too, bigger than any of the ships in the fleet. It sucked water up from the ocean and sprayed the enemy ships from a mysterious hole found beneath its tail feathers. Little known detail of history.”

“Did the giant chicken fight the dinosaurs?”

“It was on the same
side
as the dinosaurs, Dan! Come on.” Evan lifted the baby up in the air and wiggled him a little. “It kicked the giraffe’s ass, though.”

Jeff stood up then. “
I’ll
give him his bath,” he said firmly. “I’m not sure either of you can be trusted with such a serious responsibility. Bath time is not a game.”

“That’s true,” Dan said. “Bath time is very serious. Not at all an opportunity for anything weird, like, I don’t know… washcloth squids.”

Jeff froze, and Evan cocked his head. “I’m sorry? Washcloth squids? I think I may need to hear a little more about the squids…”

Jeff grinned guiltily and turned to look at Dan. “How did you know about the washcloth squids?”

“RJ told me.”

“RJ can’t talk all that well, really.”

“RJ can’t talk at all,” Evan interjected. It was strange for him to be the voice of reason in one of these conversations, but apparently someone had to be.

“Then how do I know about the washcloth squids?” Dan’s smile was absolutely serene.

For once, Jeff didn’t have an answer. Instead, his mother said, “I’ll give him his bath, if that’s all right with everyone. We will play a little, but will not get carried away. Then I will put him in his pajamas and bring him down for goodnight kisses.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Evan said, handing the baby to Anna. “When he comes back down we can see whether the Starman brought him any presents yet.”

“The Starman?” Tat sounded disgusted.

“Yes, the Starman. He brings presents to good Polish children…”

“Santa?” Robyn suggested, carefully enunciating each syllable as if she were speaking to a child of dubious intelligence.

“No, he’s different. They have him too. It’s a bit confusing, really, but we’ll get it figured out.”

“Technically, RJ’s even less Polish than you are,” Dan said. “Just for the record.”

Evan didn’t want to hear about that. “I’ll check on the presents,” he said, and Anna took the baby upstairs.

Dan had insisted that the baby not be spoiled with gifts. “If you want to spoil him with love, that’s great. But he doesn’t need a lot of stuff.” It had been one of the many, many times that Evan had realized how deeply in love he was. Because Dan was right. Because Dan was such an excellent father, and working so hard to help the baby grow up as the best person he could be. Evan had loved Dan before the baby came, but now that he’d brought Robbie into their lives, Evan loved him even more. And Jeff felt the same way, and that made Evan love
him
even more, too. It was a huge damned love-fest, and it would have been perfect except that all Evan really had to offer, all he had that was unique, was stuff. And Dan was wisely forbidding Evan from over-indulging in that area.

“
One
present from the store,” Dan had said. “If you want to give him more than that, it has to be handmade. Spend your time, not your money.”

Which was great for Jeff; he was an artist, and had illustrated a book for the baby, with pictures of all their friends and family frolicking with various farm animals and one very confused kangaroo. And it was fine for Dan, who said RJ already had way too many toys and didn’t really know where any of them came from, anyway; he’d bought the kid a stuffed horse and been done with it. Dan was RJ’s blood, and he was the one who was legally adopting the baby. His claim was obvious, his connection inarguable. But Evan… Evan didn’t have a clear role, and he liked to give things. He liked to buy them, and give them. A lot.

Dan had been right to put a limit on that, but, damn it, that didn’t mean Evan had to enjoy the restriction. But it was okay. It was fine. Evan had found another way to contribute to the baby’s Christmas experience
and
forge a connection to the baby, and he would absolutely explore this with the same enthusiasm he would have normally shown for shopping.

He smiled at everyone still sitting around the table. The baby was upstairs having his bath, so technically the traditions Evan shared now wouldn’t impact on him. But the people around the table were going to be part of Bobby’s life, and Evan had to start getting them trained. “Okay, you guys,” he said. “You may not know this, but on Christmas Eve, animals can speak with human voices!”

“You’re crazy,” a strangely-disguised voice said from the far end of the table.

Tat looked at him innocently. “That was one of the dogs, I think.”

“We’d better not go to the barn,” Robyn said. “I don’t want to know what they’re all thinking.”

“Also,” Evan persisted, “the weather today will indicate what the weather will be like for the whole rest of the year!”

“You’re crazy,” a familiar voice said from next to him. It was Dan’s turn to smile. “That was me. Because you’re crazy. And I thought I should let you know.”

“Thank you, Danny. But we’ll see who’s crazy, here, when the animals start speaking.”

“If the animals start speaking to you, you should tell me, and I’ll get you to the hospital right away.”

“No, we’re still not joking about hospitals,” Evan corrected. “Still off limits.”

“Still?”

“You go a year without being
in
one, and we’ll see about starting to joke. Until then… off limits.”

“Maybe you should give up on the ’talking animals’ then.” Dan looked at Jeff for support. “If we can’t institutionalize him, he should keep it to himself, right?”

“Nah,” Jeff drawled, and he smiled lazily, sexily, the way he never did when his mother was in the room. “He can tell us about it. It’s just one of his quirks.”

“Being insane is not a quirk,” Tat protested, but she seemed to know she was fighting a losing battle. Jeff had spoken, and neither Dan nor Evan were inclined to argue.

“So,” Evan said brightly, looking toward Robyn and Tat, “ready to draw your straws? I’m sure you’re very excited to know about your marriage prospects.”

Tat groaned and Robyn rolled her eyes, but they both leaned in to find straws. Evan had known he could count on them. They’d play along, and soon enough, this would become a familiar ritual. Evan couldn’t give the baby endless gifts, but he could give him traditions, and a sense of belonging. And if Evan was going to do something, he wasn’t going to do it half way.

CHAPTER THREE

Jeff didn’t go right into the room. He just stood in the doorway and peeked inside. The baby monitor was activated and would alert them all if anything was seriously wrong, but Jeff wasn’t checking to be sure the baby was safe. He was just… just watching. It seemed right, on Christmas Eve, to take a moment to celebrate the miracle of a baby, a little boy bringing love and happiness to the world.

Of course, Jeff had spent at least a little time in this doorway practically
every
night for the last nine months, so the Christmas tie-in was just an excuse. The truth was, he liked to look at the kid. He’d never known there was an emotion this strong, an almost physical need to protect the baby from all threats. There were other people that Jeff would willingly die for, without a second thought. But there was no one else who inspired this ridiculous eagerness for sacrifice. Jeff dreamed about it, visions of throwing himself in front of bullets, pushing the baby out of the way of a speeding car and taking the hit himself, all kinds of ways to die while saving the child, and he woke up feeling
happy
, as if he’d finally found his reason to be on the planet. He wasn’t quite to the point where he was jealous of the scars Dan had from his own bullet-blocking efforts, but he
was
fascinated by them, the ropy pink evidence of Dan’s love and courage.

Not that Jeff actually wanted to die. Now more than ever, he wanted to be around for a long, long time. “You’re going to have a good life, little man,” he said quietly. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

He heard a noise at the end of the hallway and looked over to see Robyn standing at the top of the stairs. “He’s okay?”

“He’s fine.” Robyn was a friend, but not someone to share deeper thoughts with. On the few occasions that he had, she’d responded with an almost gleeful disregard for subtlety. For example, he’d mentioned the day before that he was actually feeling fairly at home at the Kaminski place and wouldn’t mind if they stayed there, and her eyes had lit up like he’d given her a diamond necklace.

“Dan’s so stubborn about
everything
,” she’d explained. “And around the horses, he’s pretty much always right. But if he’s changed his mind about the house…”

“Dan hasn’t. Not that I know of. I’m just talking about myself.”

“But
maybe
he has,” she’d responded gleefully. “And if that’s the case, he must be forced to recognize it! If he’s changed his mind about one thing, he can change it about something else!”

And so the careful system of not mentioning a new house had been shattered. Dan hadn’t said anything yet, but Jeff had seen his face when Robyn teased about the move. He was listening, and thinking. Stewing, maybe even.

He’d be within his rights to insist on a move. It was what they’d all agreed to, and the same arguments were still as valid as they’d originally been. But this house, where Tat and Evan had grown up… where Dan had come into their lives, and where he’d recuperated after the terrifying moment that he’d almost
left
their lives… it was the home they’d brought the baby to, the walls that had kept him warm and safe for his first vulnerable months… it was a good house. An excellent house.

Jeff left the baby’s door and headed down the hall to join Robyn.

“We’re just packing up down there,” she explained. “People are saying goodbye. I said I’d come find you.”

“Probably wasn’t too hard to know where to look.”

She smiled. “He’s a great kid. And lucky, to have the three of you.”

“All of us,” Jeff clarified. “You’re great with him.”

“Yeah, all of us,” she agreed easily.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay and have Christmas morning with us?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s my turn to do morning chores, and it’ll be easier if I just roll out of bed and get them done.” She smiled. “And it’s kind of nice to be in the barn, giving them all their Christmas treats.”

Jeff nodded. Dan had volunteered to look after the horses the previous Christmas, and of course Evan and Jeff and Tat had tagged along. It
had
been kind of nice. And spending Christmas in a barn seemed pretty damned authentic, when you thought about it.

They arrived in the front foyer as Anna was delivering her goodbye kisses. “I will see all of you soon,” she said, and Jeff squinted. Were her eyes shining more than usual?

“You should stay,” he said quickly. “If Martin doesn’t want to be here, that’s fine, but you’re always welcome. Let him put the Christ in Christmas by himself again tomorrow.”

“No, he’s agreed to spend the day with me,” she said. “He’s… he’s odd, and prone to strange enthusiasms,” and the look she shot toward Evan couldn’t be ignored, “but he has good intentions. It’ll be good to spend some time with him.”

There wasn’t any way to argue with that. Jeff leaned down and gave her a tight hug. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“And you’re still going ahead with your little plan?” Evan asked Tat, who was also bundled up and ready to go.

“Don’t patronize me, Evan.” She lifted her chin. “That sort of attitude is what makes it clear that I need to establish some independence. I want to experience Christmas on my own, for once. I want to wake up whenever I want and go for a walk in the city and see what it feels like. There are people in this world who have
never
been alone on Christmas day!”

“It’s not as much fun as you might think,” Dan said cautiously.

“It’s not about fun, it’s about
experience
.” Tat nodded wisely. “I need to feel it.”

“You’re all crazy,” Evan said. “But, fine. Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.”

They stood in the doorway and watched their guests leave. “This is our first Christmas with just the three of us,” Dan said.

“And the baby.” Jeff closed the door and turned to look at the other two. “It feels kind of weird, doesn’t it?”

“We need to
experience
it,” Evan said. His imitation of Tatiana had been honed by years of practice and was now dead on. He started walking back toward the den as he said, “We need to feel it. There are people in this world who have never woken up next to two other men on Christmas morning. Never walked down the hall…”

“Of their huge mansion,” Dan interjected, and Jeff braced himself for the new-house conversation, but Dan didn’t persist.

“Never walked down the hall of their huge mansion,” Evan amended graciously, “to go and rescue their perfect baby from a horrible prison…”

“He’s not going to stop fussing in his crib if you keep reinforcing the attitude,” Dan interjected. “He’s not in prison, he’s in a safe, warm place.”

“A
horrible
prison,” Evan emphasized, but he seemed to have run out of steam. “Just us,” he said quietly.

“This has been a hell of a year,” Jeff said. “Good and bad.” He walked to the bar and poured three glasses of Wild Turkey, then handed them out. “Let’s remember the good and forget the bad.”

They raised their glasses and sipped their drinks, then walked in unison to the long leather sofa. They’d found various positions and combinations over the years, but this always seemed to be their favorite: Jeff at one end of the sofa, one leg on the cushions the other on the floor, and Evan mirroring his position at the other end, their feet and calves touching in the middle. Dan stretched out between them, his head on Jeff’s chest, his feet nestled under Evan’s ass.

They relaxed in silence for a while, then Dan said, “I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Or… I don’t know. Maybe I
could
have, but it would have been way, way harder. Too hard. And RJ… I need you for him, too.
Want
you for him. Whatever. I love you guys, but it’s more than that, now, you know? We’re a team.”