Manny & Me

“I’m going to murder you, Dee. I swear to—ahh!” Michelle squeezed Douglas’ hand like it was her sworn duty to pulverize it. “Nngh, it hurts. Why did I let you do this to me again?”

“Because you’re a kind, caring soul who has compassion for a lost soul like mine.” Douglas let her squeeze, and when she was done, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “You’re doing great, you know?”

“How do you know that?” Michelle spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re not a doctor, Dee. You don’t know these things. How many other labors have you attended?”

She had a point.

Michelle cried out in pain and clamped down on his hand again, and Douglas drew in a deep breath to work himself through the crushing agony she inflicted upon him. Her curly locks were stuck to her forehead, matted by sweat, and her face had gone red from the physical exertion. Douglas knew that childbirth wasn’t pretty, but he hadn’t imagined anything half as intense as this. He valued Michelle’s gift to him even more now that he knew how intense labor was.

There was a polite knock on the door to their private hospital room. Douglas lifted his head to look toward it. Dr. Nash slid the door open and entered, his silver hair carefully styled so not a lock was out of place. Bright blue eyes glimmered in the stark glare hospital lights as Dr. Nash made his way to the bedside.

“How are we doing in here?” he asked jovially.

“I’m dying.” Michelle ground her teeth. “Get it out of me.”

Dr. Nash laughed. It was a breezy sound that Douglas admired. Since they’d met Dr. Nash during Michelle’s prenatal visits, Douglas had thought the man was attractive. In a hospital setting, doing what he loved to do, he was even more so.

Not that it would work out anyway. Douglas had a habit of sticking his foot in his mouth, and it had ended every relationship he’d been in prematurely. After a string of false starts that didn’t last for more than a few months, he’d decided to hang up his dating hat.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that. I’m going to check to see how we’re doing, okay?” Dr. Nash lifted the blankets covering Michelle’s lower half. With a hum, he looked back up at Michelle from over the blankets. “Looks like we’re set to deliver this baby.”

“Thank god.” Michelle let her head fall back on the pillows. “I am so over this. So over this. Douglas, you are not getting another kid. One and done.”

“You mean you won’t give me the quiverfull family I’ve always dreamed of?”

“Oh, hell no!”

Douglas laughed, and it earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs from Michelle.

Around them, movement had begun. Nurses entered the room. Linens changed hands. A sterilized stainless steel medical tray was delivered, its contents strange looking. Douglas was glad that Michelle had no interest in looking, because he was starting to feel queasy thinking about the things on that tray, and he wasn’t even the one delivering the baby.

“All right, Michelle, are we ready?” Dr. Nash asked. “We’re going to get this baby born quickly. It’ll all be done soon.”

“Please, I will literally punch a nun for that to happen. Can we make it happen?” Michelle lifted her head, her chin tucked against her neck. “I’m so done.”

“Then all you need to do is remember your Lamaze training and work with me through the next few contractions, okay?” Dr. Nash snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves. “Everyone in this room is a team, and we’re all here for you and your baby.”

“That’s great, really, but can we hurry it up?” Michelle’s words grew tighter midway through the sentence, and she squeezed Douglas’ hand so hard, he thought he heard something crack. “It’s really bad. I am so regretting not getting that epidural. What the hell was I thinking?”

“You’re doing great.” Douglas squeezed her hand back, and Michelle shot him a look so dirty he decided it was best just to keep his mouth shut.

“All right, Michelle, I’ve got Nurse Byrne and Nurse Susa here with me. The baby is in an anterior position—that’s good. Very good. You’re fully dilated now and it’s ready to be born. We’re going to work through this second stage of labor together. Whenever you feel the need to push, I want you to follow through with it, okay? Until the baby starts to crown, we’re going to push.”

“We’re?” Michelle asked. She let her head sink back against the pillow. “So glad that—ahh!” Michelle didn’t just squeeze Douglas’ hand—she curled up onto herself, eyes wide. “Oh god, oh god, I need to push.”

Excitement spread through Douglas’ chest. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. The delivery was coming to an end, and that meant that in a few hours’ time, he’d get to meet his new son or daughter face to face for the very first time.

He was ready. He was more ready than he’d ever been before.

“Remember your counting. Count with me. You’re pushing down and—very good!” Dr. Nash praised. “All right. You’re doing great. Breathe. You have to remember to keep breathing. You won’t be very effective at labor if you’ve passed out.”

“How much longer?” Michelle brushed a damp curl from her forehead. “We’re almost done, right? Pushing means we’re almost done?”

“With a new mother whose baby is in an anterior position, we’re looking at just another hour or two.”

“Just!” Michelle laughed dryly. “Dee, you are in so much trouble when I can walk again. I am going to kick your ass for convincing me to do this. I—”

According to the crushed bones in Douglas’ hand, another contraction struck. Michelle breathed out through her teeth and pushed, and Douglas stood by for support. The contractions were coming regularly now, and each time Michelle pushed, Dr. Nash encouraged her through it.

Nurses buzzed around them. They wiped Michelle’s forehead with damp cloths and made sure she was comfortable. One, a plump woman with a dark complexion, compassionately took over for Douglas at the half hour mark so he could step out of the room to get a drink of water. When he returned, Michelle glared daggers at him.

He knew not to take it personally.

Another half hour passed. The longer Michelle pushed, the more satisfied she sounded. Each time she cried out with a new contraction, her voice lifted and gained strength. To Douglas, it sounded like her pain had turned into triumph. She knew she was making progress and that it wouldn’t be much longer now.

Douglas couldn’t wait.

“Okay, Michelle, the baby is almost crowning. Are you ready?” Dr. Nash looked up at her, his blue eyes kind and understanding. “We’ve got one more push to go. Just one more.”

“One more?” Michelle almost sobbed with relief. “Hell yes, I’m ready. I was ready four hours ago.”

“Then here we go.”

Michelle’s cry echoed in Douglas’ eardrums. She clutched his hand so tightly his fingers were forced to straighten and started to turn red. Douglas watched as Michelle squeezed her eyes shut and screwed up her face from the pressure. Below, Dr. Nash was moving with her, prepared to deliver the baby.

“Good job, Michelle. Keep going. Keep going!” Dr. Nash encouraged.

“You can do it,” Douglas affirmed, thinking it was safe to speak again.

It wasn’t.

Michelle opened her eyes only so she could glare at him. “You did this to me. You stay out of this!”

Douglas shut right back up. Michelle was doing him the biggest favor she could ever do for him, and he was going to respect her wishes.

“Here’s the head. Just a little more. You’ve got this, Michelle. You’re doing a great job.” Dr. Nash worked beneath the covers, but Douglas didn’t dare look. He remained at Michelle’s side, holding his breath.

The baby was coming. He was going to be a father.

“There we go. There we go!” Dr. Nash drew back at the same time that Michelle gasped. She fell back onto the bed, eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. Douglas looked away from her to see what the doctor was doing when his heart stopped.

In the doctor’s arms was a bright red, impossibly tiny human being.

Douglas’ child.

Douglas’ jaw fell open, and he took a small step toward the doctor, overwhelmed. The small person in Dr. Nash’s arms was someone he’d helped bring into the world—someone who shared his genes and who would bear his last name. Love, instant and inescapable, struck Douglas like a truck.

He beamed.

“Congratulations—it’s a boy.” Dr. Nash stepped forward and placed the baby in Michelle’s arms. Michelle cradled him to her chest and dipped her hospital gown down one shoulder to expose a breast. It didn’t take much prompting for the baby to find her nipple and latch on.

Skin wrinkled, head vaguely cone shaped, and body a painful shade of red, Douglas found himself worried. There were patches of a white, creamy substance on the baby’s skin.

“Is he okay, doctor?” Douglas asked. “He’s so red, and there’s that… substance.”

“Vernix,” Dr. Nash said. “It protects the skin. It’s suggested that you rub it in, but if you prefer, we’ll have it washed off when he’s taken away after breastfeeding.”

“No, I…” Douglas hesitated. Hand trembling, he reached out to touch the minuscule human being cradled in Michelle’s arms. When his fingertips landed on the baby’s skin, it was warm. Real. Michelle had really done it. He was a father. “I can do it. I just wanted to make sure it was okay.”

Gentle—more gentle than he’d been with anything else—Douglas rubbed the vernix into his son’s skin. It soaked in without issue, and the baby seemed to enjoy his touch.

Douglas melted.

He’d heard stories about parents falling in love right away, but he’d always thought that it was a Hollywood construct. Now he knew better. The thrill of knowing that he was the father of another person was incredible. He loved his son with everything he had.

“He’s hungry,” Michelle remarked, as she gently lifted him to her breast. “I bet in sixteen years’ time, he’s going to be eating you out of house and home, Dee. You’d better start saving for those groceries right now.”

“Right?” Douglas laughed. “I’ll open a grocery savings account alongside the college account. Good idea.”

They’d both agreed that Douglas would cut the cord, so Dr. Nash saw him through the process, and Douglas did his best not to let his hands tremble.

Then the nurse took him away to be washed, weighed, and dressed. In his absence, Michelle passed the afterbirth.

After, heart pounding so hard against his ribs the beat of it vibrated in his bones, Douglas picked the baby up and held him to his chest. A tiny hand reached up and gripped Douglas’ shirt, the strength remarkable for someone so small.

Douglas melted.

“What’s his name?” Dr. Nash asked.

Douglas smiled. He kept his gaze on the baby in his arms. When he replied, his voice was level and mature in a way it had never been before—fatherhood hit him hard, and Douglas didn’t think he’d ever recover.

He didn’t want to.

“Ian,” Douglas said softly, stroking Ian’s cheek with a single finger. “His name’s Ian.”

Chicken sizzled beneath the clear lid of the frying pan. Sebastian cast it a glance, then checked the time and turned off the heat. He left the pan on the warm element and rooted around in the cabinet to the right of the stove to find another pan.

A few feet away, Gabriel leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms high over his head. Two open bottles of beer waited on the kitchen table, condensation beaded over their labels.

“How the hell did you get so good at cooking?” Gabriel asked. He came out of the stretch and scratched the back of his head, then yawned. “I burn water, and here you are making… whatever the hell it is you’re making. I don’t know. It smells delicious.”

“Chicken?” Sebastian cocked an eyebrow and shot Gabriel a look. “It’s a chicken breast, Gabriel. It’s not fancy.”

“The second you put any kind of herb on it, it’s fancy.”

“If you think seasoning your food is fancy, you must live a dull life.” Sebastian found the pan he was looking for and put it on the stove. He flicked on the burner and took the bottle of coconut oil from the shelf. A spoonful of it hit the warming pan, and it wasn’t long before it melted. “How long have you been living on your own?”

“Since college started… like four years ago.” Gabriel shrugged. “But I’ve never been alone alone. That’s the benefit of living with a roommate. You get them to cook all your shit, and then you trade labor. So she does the cooking, and I clean the apartment. You’ve never seen a place so shiny.”

“It’s no excuse.” Sebastian swept crushed garlic into the pan with his knife. It sizzled and flavored the oil. “What happens when she moves out?”

“I put up an ad looking for another roommate and screen my applicants until I find one who can cook.” Gabriel stuck out his tongue. “It’s not rocket science. I’ve got this shit on lockdown.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. As the garlic browned, he swept over to the sink to grab the bowl of scrubbed button mushrooms. Sebastian checked the heat of the pan, then tossed a mushroom in. It sizzled the way he hoped it would, so he introduced the rest.

“And they’re trusting you to educate tiny, tiny children?” Sebastian looked over his shoulder, a brow arched playfully. “You, who can’t cook?”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do plenty of other, very useful things,” Gabriel said, chin lifted high. His dark hair was twisted up into tight bun on the back of his head, a few strands of it pulled out of place from how he’d been scratching. “You know, when it comes to preschool level competencies, I am a god. Can I read? Hell yes, I can. Can I stack blocks and draw Mother’s Day cards? You’d better believe it. Can I handle a meltdown? Well, that’s yet to be seen, but according to the student teaching I did, I’m an expert at diffusing toddler temper tantrums.”

“Mm. I guess you’re in good company, then.” Sebastian smirked and turned back to his cooking. He pushed the mushrooms around with a wooden spoon. “I know that I tease you, but I’m proud of you. I knew you’d land the job.”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t give someone like me free reign over their impressionable young children?” Gabriel snickered. He lifted his beer and tilted it to his lips. “Me? A bad influence? Never.”

“Mmhm.” Sebastian stepped back to check on the vegetables roasting in the oven. They looked good to go. All they’d need to do was wait on the chicken, and it was only another eight minutes or so until the residual heat would finish cooking it to perfection.

He’d learned the trick to cooking perfect chicken during his freshman year in college, and it had stuck with him all this time. Cook on high heat for one minute to sear the top, flip, cover, reduce heat, cook for ten minutes, then turn off the heat and let sit for another ten minutes.

Simple and perfect every time.

“So, did you meet any of your new yet?”

“Sort of.” Sebastian shrugged. “I’ve met the principal, obviously. She seems like a nice woman. Approachable, level-headed, a little older, but that means she’s been at the game for a while, so she knows what she’s doing. The vice principal was there, too. He’s a little younger, but he’s kind. When they walked me down the hallway to see the classroom, some of the other teachers there waved. I’m taking it as a good sign. There were some schools I interviewed at where the staff cowered when the administration came around, and you know that means trouble. I’m glad that it looks like a stable environment.”

“Was he cute?” Sebastian asked.

Gabriel snorted. “He’s not your type. I wouldn’t set you up with someone from work anyway. Sorry, Sebastian. If you want to get hot for teacher, you’re going to have to find one on your own. I’m not going to sully any work connections because you wanted to get laid.”

Sebastian’s cheeks burned, and it wasn’t the heat from the stove doing it. He shifted his weight to his other leg, staring down at the mushrooms a little too intently.

“Sorry. I, uh, probably overstepped the boundaries a little. Didn’t mean to make it weird.” Gabriel set his beer down. The clink filled the awkward silence. “You, uh, you know, still going on with that stuff?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian didn’t look away from the mushrooms.

“So I guess you haven’t had any call backs yet. It’s weird that hiring an accountant. When you got into the program, they told you it wouldn’t be hard to find a job, right? I remember you mentioning that in our senior year at high school.”

“The problem isn’t that places aren’t hiring accounts—it’s that looking to hire an accountant fresh out of school with minimal work history.” Sebastian let out a sigh, slow and hopefully undetectable. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Talking about what he did for a living made him uncomfortable. “You can’t really write what I do on a resume, you know? So I’ve got this big employment gap.”

“But you’ve been at school for the last four years. That’s understandable.” Gabriel drew his chair back. The sound of it was loud in the tiny kitchen. “And you had that unpaid internship, right? So it’s not like you’re totally inexperienced.”

“I guess places aren’t looking to take a chance. I’m going to keep trying, but at this point it’s looking pretty grim.” The mushrooms were done. Sebastian turned off the heat and moved them to a cool burner. The chicken wouldn’t be much longer. In preparation, he left the stove to grab plates from an overhead cabinet. “I need to figure something out. I can’t keep doing what I’m doing.”

“Not if it’s making you miserable,” Gabriel agreed. “But you know what? Maybe it’s a little too optimistic or hopeful or naive of me, but I like to think that the universe gives us what we need when we need it. Something’s going to come through for you, and it might not be an accounting job, but you know what? It’s going to be okay. You’ll figure out a way to deal. No matter what it is, I know you’ll persevere.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian set the plates on the table. As he did, he picked up his bottle of beer and took a swig. He wasn’t overly fond of the taste, but the alcohol soothed some of his general discomfort. “I’m not completely out of options yet. I’ve signed up for a few job sites, and there have been some interesting positions I’ve applied for. No idea if I hear back, but at this point, I’m willing to try just about anything.”

“What kind of jobs are you going for then?”

“Just… whatever jobs I have the qualifications to do.” The timer on the stove beeped. Sebastian turned it off, then killed the heat in the oven. “A little bit of everything.”

“Why don’t we try to narrow some stuff down then? It’s going to be a lot less annoying hunting for a job when you know what kind of jobs you’re looking for. That way, you won’t have to check every one to see if you qualify—you should already know.” Gabriel hummed. “So. We know you’ve got a college degree. You’re good at cooking. Based on your apartment, I’d say you’re good at cleaning, too. You’re resourceful and you’re willing to do what it takes to make sure you reach your goals.”

Sebastian looked over his shoulder, mildly surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“The job you have right now that’s making you want to find a different job.” Gabriel fixed Sebastian with an earnest look. “Not everyone would do what you’re doing, you know. Even if they were stuck.”

Sebastian bit down on his lip and looked away. He didn’t want to think about it.

“So those are some pretty good qualities right there. Some good qualifications.” Gabriel drummed his fingers on the table. “I bet you’re good with kids, too. Should’ve been you graduating from early childhood education this year instead of me.”

“Accounting pays better.”

“If you can find a job.” Gabriel snorted. “So you’ve got the whole kid thing going for you, too. Kid friendly, I’d say. Have you considered working at a daycare? Or maybe taking on some babysitting jobs? I know it sounds juvenile, but people are willing to pay serious money to find people qualified to take care of their kids. I think you’d be a great fit.”

“I was thinking about pet sitting, or dog walking.” Sebastian took the vegetables out of the oven. “Do you really think I’d be okay with kids?”

“As a god amongst , I am certified to say you would be awesome with kids,” Gabriel declared. He passed Sebastian a plate. “You should keep an eye on the local paper as well as online job sites. I’m pretty sure if you keep all your doors open, it won’t be long before success comes your way.”

If only. Sebastian loaded vegetables and mushrooms onto the dinner plate, then selected one half of the chicken breast and passed it back to Gabriel. Gabriel passed him the next plate, and before long, Sebastian was seated across from him. Dinner was served.

“You know, if you’d have told me in advance you were going to be cooking something fancy, I would have brought wine instead of beer.” Gabriel scrunched his nose. “Whatever. I guess it’s all the same in the end, right? A little bit of a buzz to go with our celebration?”

“It’s fine.” Sebastian lifted his bottle. “Here’s to your new job.”

Gabriel lifted his bottle in turn. “Here’s to your new beginning and continued hope.”

The necks of the bottles clinked. A bead of condensation ran down the glass and pooled against Sebastian’s finger. He drank, then set the bottle down and shook off the wetness.

“You know, with food like this, you’d better watch yourself.” Gabriel winked. “I might be inclined to make you my new roommate.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Sebastian had lived alone since he’d started college, and he intended to keep it that way. If he ever did move in with someone, it wasn’t going to be a friend. He’d heard too many horror stories about friendships falling apart because of poor roommate behaviors. “I like you too much to want to jeopardize our friendship.”

“Likely excuse.” Gabriel grinned. “You’ll come around. And hey, if you don’t have to pay full rent, that’s one less expense, right? You won’t have to worry so much about your new job paying enough to cover your cost of living.”

He had a point, but Sebastian wasn’t going to consider it until he found a place looking to hire him. Without hard numbers to go over, he couldn’t make a decision.

But whatever happened, Sebastian had a feeling that what Gabriel said would hold true—the universe would give him what he needed. It would be up to him to make sure his life fit the plan.