|
Ficlet
#428 It was all true, what they said; that it didn't matter how much you thought you could love a person, there was no limit to the amount you could spare for a child of your own. Every time she gurgles and hums, looks up at you with owlish blue eyes, your heart swells two sizes more to accomodate it. You don't think there's room enough for you anymore, and you don't mind. Lance's eyes grow large when he's delighted, and when he's around her. You wonder if being around babies brings out something youthful in him that manifests itself on his face, something in the way Brianna lets him gnaw on her fingers playfully, then returns the favor. She gets him wet; he wipes his hands on his pants as if it's no matter. You didn't plan for it to be like this. You, you didn't plan at all, but Lance. Lance had plans. Lance had planned for a house, spouse, and children, not necessarily in that order, but preferably so. You weren't sure you'd get any of those things, even if you thought you might like them. Neither of you had gotten what you'd wanted, though Kelly was close, Kelly was almost it. Kelly could have been it, one day, if it hadn't been Lance. He passes you the baby's bottle and your fingers entwine purely from the habit of it. Brianna hooks her hand over both of your fingers as she drinks, and it's as if she knows, joins you together somehow. She says so much with that, what she couldn't possibly speak in words. The question is on your lips, because if you're going to ask, the time will never be more right than now. "We want you to be the godfather," you say, eyes on hers, because you've read that the eye contact is the most important part of the moment, and you thank the books you've pored over for that information. Lance helped to pick half of them out, but now his finger jerks a little under Brianna's hand and next to your own. You hear him catch his breath, then let it out. It sounds like a little sigh. "I'm not Catholic," he breathes, and you laugh, you can't help it, because that's the first thing he says, of course. His voice wavers when he says it, and you laugh anyway. "Don't care," you say. "Doesn't matter. It's the thought. It's what it means." You pause, then add, "Kelly thought it'd be a good idea. She, uh. she thought it was appropriate." She did, but it was still your idea, your proposal. You don't tell him that. You think he would know. "So dude, is that a no?" you throw in. "'Cause we can take it if it's a no. Can't we, Doozer, can't we?" You touch your nose to Brianna's and you think there's no way you will take no for an answer, not from Lance, not ever. He will never say no to you, and that's why you have what you have. "It's yes," he says. You keep your eyes on Brianna's, but you feel his cheek press against your shoulder. You know he's closed his eyes because that's what he does, and his free hand slides against the small of your back. "I'd. It would. It's an honor, Joe. I don't. I." He sighs. You grin. "Just shut up and say you accept," you tell him. "I accept," he murmurs, and his voice sounds low and watery. He can cry now, and you can cry later. Brianna mumbles around the bottle's nipple, and all's right with your world, too much love in your heart for her and just enough for him.
[back] |