Baby Makes Three Read online

  “Okay,” Jack said again. He headed for the stairs. Craig closed the door and followed him. His pulse thrummed in his ears.

  “So then I thought that it was the towel and the detergent, but we’ve been washing everything of Isaac’s in unscented detergent that’s supposed to be safe for babies, and he’s never had a reaction before, so… so I don’t know.”

  “Okay.” Jack crested the stairs and entered Craig’s room. Craig had a station for Isaac set up in there. Jack laid Isaac down. “Is it okay if I take off his onesie?”

  “Yeah.” Craig paced behind him, desperate to do something. “What do you think is wrong?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m going to give him a look and see if there’s anything physical I can find. Once I know, we’ll move on from there. We’ve just got to take it a step at a time.”

  Craig managed to stop pacing. He looked over Jack’s shoulder as Jack removed Isaac’s onesie and looked him over for signs of skin irritation. Craig didn’t see anything, but Jack was more experienced with children. Craig hoped Jack saw something only because if he did, they’d know how to make Isaac feel better.

  “Do you see anything?”

  “No.” Jack picked Isaac up and turned him around. Isaac’s neck muscles were starting to develop, and he needed a little less support. “Not seeing anything in particular. He doesn’t look like he’s got irritated skin.”

  “Then what?”

  “He feels hot,” Jack said. He laid Isaac back down as the baby wailed. “The cry he’s using isn’t because he’s hungry or wet. He doesn’t need to be burped, either. So… right now I think he’s not feeling well. I think he has a fever.” Jack pressed the back of his hand to Isaac’s forehead. “Yep. Feels feverish to me. He’s been fussy today. It must have been setting in.”

  “A fever?” Craig was rattled. What was he supposed to do? “Do I take him to the doctor? Do I… god. I don’t know. Is there a medicine he can take? He can’t take pills.”

  Jack chuckled. “I don’t think the fever’s all that bad. He’s about four months old now, right?”

  “Yeah. Five months.” Craig twisted his hands together.

  “If a baby is less than three months old, fevers are serious and need medical attention. Because he’s four months old, as long as his temperature isn’t too high, he should be fine.”

  “How do we know that?” Craig asked. “What’s too high for a baby?”

  Jack gave him a dirty look. “Are you seriously asking me how we take a baby’s temperature? I know you’re worried, but come on. He’s a baby, but he’s resilient. He’s not going to die, Craig. Take a deep breath and calm down. You need your wits about you if you’re going to be a dad. Once he starts crawling you’re going to have your hands full.”

  “I just…” Craig closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “I’m okay. I’m calm. I’m going to ge through this.”

  “Yes, you are.” Jack patted his back reassuringly. “We’ve got this under control. We’re going to take Isaac’s temperature with a digital thermometer. I have one in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Could you get it for me, please?”

  “Sure.” Craig felt better with something to do. He glanced at Isaac one last time, then left the room to get the thermometer. It wasn’t hard to find. Craig took it from the medicine cabinet shelf, then returned. He gave the thermometer to Jack.

  “Good.” Jack took off the plastic covering over the reader, then lifted Isaac’s arm. He place the reader against Isaac’s armpit and held his arm shut. “We need to see a temperature of less than 101 degrees. If it’s higher we’ll take him to the hospital and a doctor will look after him.”

  “And if that happens?” Craig asked. “Is there a chance he could die?”

  “There’s a chance any of us could die at any time,” Jack said flatly. “You’re freaked out. It’s okay. This is the first time your son is sick. It’s normal to be worried. But let me tell you, I promise everything is going to be okay.”

  Hearing it from Jack made it better. Craig slumped onto the baby station, arms folded together. Being terrified was exhausting.

  The thermometer beeped. Craig took it from Isaac’s armpit and read the number.

  “It’s 99.7. A little high, but nothing to be alarmed about. If his fever doesn’t break in twenty-four hours, we’ll go to the hospital, okay?”

  “What can we do for him?” Craig asked. “It breaks my heart to hear him crying.”

  “One of us can run to the pharmacy to get some infant’s Tylenol. The other one of us should stay here. We can help him cool down with some lukewarm rags. I think maybe that’s why he wasn’t as fussy in the bath.”

  “Okay.” Craig tried to calm himself. “What do you want me to do?”

  “If you need a break from him crying, you can go to the pharmacy,” Jack said. “If not, then you can stay here and help him cool down.”

  “Okay.” Craig gave himself a moment to think. It was hard to do when Isaac’s condition made him want to shut down and curl up into a ball. How was he supposed to be a good dad when he couldn’t hold himself together during urgent times? “I… I think I’ll stay here.”

  “You got it.” Jack rubbed his back. The touch was soothing. Craig leaned into it and let go of his fears. It was going to be okay. It was just a fever. “There are times when he’s going to get sick, and there are times when he’ll hurt. This is the first time. I promise it’s going to get better from here.”

  “You sound more like a dad than an uncle,” Craig admitted.

  Jack squeezed his shoulder. “Told you, I’m a dad with none of the benefits. Now, you sit tight with Isaac while I run out. Do you know where the clean washcloths are?”

  “Yes.” Craig nodded.

  “Good. Soak them and let him enjoy the water a little. He’ll cool down and feel better soon. I promise.”

  Craig looked over his shoulder. His nose almost brushed Jack’s cheek. They were close, but Jack wasn’t looking at him — he was looking at Isaac. The care and devotion in his eyes was genuine.

  Jack cared.

  It made Craig want to burst with happiness.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Jack said. He squeezed Craig’s shoulder once more and left the room.

  Craig was glad — if Jack had stayed another second, he would have kissed him, and neither of them needed a complication like that in their lives.

  Isaac calmed down once Craig draped a damp cloth over his forehead. He took care washing Isaac again, running the washcloth along his tiny arms and his pudgy belly. Isaac didn’t fall asleep, but his eyelids started to droop. He had to be exhausted from crying. Craig wished there was something he could do.

  Jack was gone for no more than twenty minutes. When he got back, he had with him a box of infant’s Tylenol. Craig read the directions twice before he let Jack so much as open the cap, then watched like a hawk as Jack drew the medicine into the dropper.

  “How are we going to get him to take it?” Craig asked.

  “Well, it’s going to take a little bit of skill, but we’ll get it,” Jack promised. “What I want you to do is distract him while I try to get it in his mouth, okay?”

  “He’s pretty tuckered out,” Craig said. “I don’t know if he’s going to be too alert.”

  “He’ll feel better if he sees his daddy nearby, anyway,” Jack said. “Stroke his hair. Talk to him. I’ll get him to take the medicine before he even realizes what’s going on.”

  Raising a child was an experience Craig was not prepared for, and he was eternally grateful he had Jack to rely on. He leaned over Isaac and stroked his hair gently until Isaac’s gaze focused on him.

  “Hey, little man,” Craig said. “Are you feeling any better now that we’ve got you cooled down? I know it’s not going to last forever, but for now it must feel pretty nice, right?”

  As Craig spoke, Jack slipped the dropper between Isaac’s open lips. Isaac didn’t so much as squirm. Craig watched as he swallowed instinctively. Jack took
the dropper out.

  “We’re going to do what we can to make you feel better.”

  Isaac smacked his lips and moved his tongue, the taste still in his mouth. The medicine was grape flavored, Craig remembered. He wondered if it tasted as awful to a baby as it did to a toddler.

  “Soon enough it’ll pass. You’ll get better. Not only that, but you’ll get stronger for it, too.”

  “I think we should try putting him to bed now that he’s not crying anymore,” Jack said. “The medicine will knock him right out.”

  “He’s already half asleep from crying so hard,” Craig said.

  “Then putting him to bed is an extra good idea.” Jack bumped against Craig’s side, a small sign of solidarity. The contact sent a shiver down Craig’s spine. “C’mon, dad. Let’s let Isaac get some rest.”

  The fear died. Relief set in. Craig let it all out in a satisfying sigh. He picked Isaac up and laid him in his crib. For a while, Craig and Jack stood over him, watching. Then Jack laid a hand on his back. It was a silent sign to go.

  They left the room together. Everything was going to be all right.

  22

  Jack

  Fatherhood was only partially an instinct. Jack remembered his first days spent with Rachael, his sister’s first child, and how difficult they had been. The transition between being a man and being a father was a difficult one to make.

  Craig was traversing it expertly.

  Every day he learned something new, and when Jack looked at him, he saw Craig stepping up to be the father Isaac needed. It fulfilled him in a way he couldn’t rationalize.

  If what Lane said about mental attraction held its water, Jack was in deep.

  With the help of some damp cloths to keep Isaac cool and the savior that was infant’s Tylenol, Isaac slept through most of the night. Craig and Jack camped out in the living room, both of them so wound up from Isaac’s suffering that they couldn’t bring themselves to go to bed. Jack drifted in and out of sleep all night, waking when Isaac cried. Every time he did, Craig was already on his feet and ready to tend to him.

  Jack couldn’t have been more proud.

  When the sun was too high for Jack to get back to sleep, he followed Craig upstairs and took Isaac’s temperature again.

  “It’s 99.3,” Jack said. “It’s not a huge change, but I think his fever’s starting to break. You’ve got a little fighter on your hands.”

  “I’m glad.” Craig stroked Isaac’s hair. “All I want is for him to get better.”

  “You’re doing a great job.” Jack set the thermometer down. “Isaac couldn’t ask for a better father.”

  “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Craig said. “It’s you who’s the great father.”

  “Mm, I disagree.” Jack set a finger on the tip of Isaac’s button nose, then refocused his attention on Craig. “I might know more than you, but the effort you’re putting in and your love for Isaac shows in the things you do. This lucky little guy has got a dad who loves him more than anything else in the whole wide world. I think that makes you a terrific father no matter how much you do or don’t know.”

  The look of appreciation on Craig’s face was delicate, and Jack smiled in response. Maybe all they could be was friends, but that didn’t mean Jack couldn’t take pleasure in the small things. Making Craig happy made him happy. In another universe, in another time, theirs was a love that would last a lifetime. Jack was just happy that in his version of reality he still got to be friends with Craig.

  Not every crush needed to turn into something more. Mental attraction or not, Jack could settle for friends. It would be hard — sometimes heartbreaking — but he’d do it. He’d stand at Craig’s side when he married the woman of his dreams, and he’d be there for when Craig’s next son was born. They’d fly out to see each other for a week in the summer, maybe. They’d go back to chatting through texts.

  That was enough. Jack couldn’t ask for more.

  “So,” Jack said, eager to distract himself from the look on Craig’s face. “If Isaac’s settled down, what do you want to do today? I slept like hell last night, but now that the sun’s shining, I doubt I’m going to be able to get back to sleep.”

  “Nothing exciting,” Craig said immediately. “Maybe a movie on the couch?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Jack looked back at Isaac. “Should we bring him to the cradle in the living room, or do you think he’ll be fine in his crib with the baby monitor on?”

  “We’ll baby monitor it,” Craig said. “I don’t want to disturb him. Most times he’s good about noise, but if he’s already not feeling well…”

  “Yeah, I got you.” Jack nodded. “Put him down and I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  They split ways. As Jack left the room, he glanced at Craig from over his shoulder. Craig tended to Isaac with tremendous tenderness, and Jack smiled to himself. He headed downstairs and got Netflix set up for a movie.

  Craig came down not long after. He tossed a washcloth in the hamper by the laundry room door as he passed, then settled beside Jack on the couch. It was uncharacteristic that they sat so close, but Jack wasn’t about to object.

  “What do you want to watch?” Jack asked.

  “Something funny and mindless,” Craig said.

  “A comedy it is. Let’s browse. Stop me if you see something that looks interesting.”

  Both of them got comfortable on the couch. Craig leaned back so that his shoulder blades rested on the arm of the couch, legs toward Jack. Jack curled up against the back of the couch and set his cheek on the arm rest. Their legs brushed.

  Jack scrolled through the selections, attention elsewhere. The brush of Craig’s leg against his own captivated him. Jack knew it was innocent, but that didn’t stop him from imagining something more.

  It wasn’t hard when they’d already spent a night together.

  Jack remembered the soft hairs on Craig’s legs and the hard surface of his palms. He remembered the gradual taper of Craig’s hips and the narrowness of his torso. All of it was intoxicating. It felt like a dream.

  Craig shifted on the couch. His feet bumped against the front of Jack’s thighs. Jack startled, but neither of them made a move to fix their newfound proximity.

  Craig stroked Jack’s thigh.

  At first, Jack was sure he was imagining it. They were only just getting settled, after all. Maybe Craig was looking for somewhere comfortable to rest his feet. But the longer it went on, the more evident it became.

  Jack blinked. He stayed still as Craig’s foot stroked in slow back and forth movements. Then he cleared his throat.

  Craig looked from the screen and at Jack.

  “I, um.” Jack wasn’t sure how to put it without sounding insensitive. “I really appreciate what you’re doing, but I think maybe you should stop. It’s a sweet gesture after a really hard night, but if you keep doing that I’m going to get the wrong idea.”

  “What kind of wrong idea?” Craig asked.

  The kind where I beg you for your cock.

  “The kind where I’m attracted to you and doing that is going to make me think you want something more.”

  Close enough.

  Craig’s foot stopped. Jack knew he hadn’t meant it on purpose, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Craig and Isaac had become such integral parts of his life that he had a hard time separating himself from his mental image of their family.

  Craig, Isaac, and himself. The three of them, happy and together.

  Craig’s foot resumed stroking.

  Jack parted his lips to speak, but he found nothing to say. He’d told Craig what his touch was doing. Craig understood. Jack hadn’t been beating around the bush or playing coy.

  It was a statement.

  Every caress of Craig’s foot was bliss. Jack was getting hard. It wasn’t that the touch was erotic, but the intent behind it was more than he could handle. Craig was touching him knowing what it
would do to Jack. He was touching Jack knowing that Jack would beg him for more.

  Craig wanted Jack, and this was his quiet way of saying it.

  Jack picked himself up by the elbows. He sat, then set the controller for his Xbox aside and crawled across the couch until he was straddling Craig. Craig looked up at him, the kind of cocky smile on his face that made Jack’s heart race.

  Their eyes met. Jack held his gaze.

  Then Jack kissed him.

  Their lips brushed, exploratory and uncertain. The tenderness of Craig’s kiss was spellbinding. Jack closed his eyes and kissed him back with lazy passion. There was nothing hurried or primal about the way they came together. This time around it wasn’t a race. What bound them wasn’t a temporary spike in arousal or a blinding need to be intimate. This time around what bound them was far less fragile.

  Jack took advantage of it.

  Craig’s lips parted for him. Jack let his tongue trail across Craig’s bottom lip, and Craig’s tongue rose to greet his. The kiss grew more passionate. Jack gave into it.

  Craig’s arms wrapped around his back and tugged him down until they were chest to chest. Jack was certain Craig could feel his erection. He didn’t care. This was what Craig wanted, and it had always been what Jack wanted, too.

  His best friend. His straight best friend.

  It looked like Craig wasn’t so straight anymore.

  Jack ran a hand through Craig’s hair, locking his fingers into it. He pressed his clothed erection down against Craig to find Craig was getting hard.

  God, I can’t believe he’s getting hard for me. That’s so hot.

  The kiss broke, but their lips remained close. Craig’s cocky grin returned.

  “So,” Craig said. “What’s happening with that movie?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Jack uttered, totally captivated by the insane chemistry between them. It sparked in the air and manifested as goosebumps down his arms. Being this close to Craig felt like fantasy. “Just… just kiss me.”