Chapter Eighteen

LIAM BROUGHT a Sleep Sheep to the baby shower. He’d bought it the night before on the recommendation of a couple mothers at work, gotten it gift wrapped at the store, and written something carefully neutral on the card. That night, after tossing and turning for several hours, struggling to get some rest, trying not to think about who he was going to see the next day and how it all would go, he’d ripped through the paper, yanked the damn sheep out of its box, and cycled through the sounds. The heartbeat and whales were creepy, the surf made him restless, but the rain? Hell, yeah. That rain hit the spot.

Which meant, of course, that he had to make another run to the baby store in order to pick up a new Sleep Sheep the next morning. He was helped by the same clerk as the day before, and he had to resist the urge to make up excuses for why he was becoming some sort of Sleep Sheep shepherd. His shopping decisions were none of the clerk’s business.

Just like Ben’s life was none of Liam’s.

Just like it hasn’t been for the last fifteen years, he reminded himself. No reason to start getting worked up about it now. After all, he’d been the one to try to convince Calvin about the different mores of gay relationships. He knew perfectly well, in theory and in practice, that it was possible to have sex, good sex, with someone you didn’t really care about. So why the hell was he acting as if he and Ben had made some sort of commitment to each other just because they’d fucked?

He drove into North Falls without being able to answer that question. The closest he could get was “wishful thinking.” He’d wanted it to mean more. He’d wanted—well, he wasn’t completely sure what he’d wanted. But he definitely hadn’t been dreaming of a day when he’d walk into a damn baby shower and see Ben with his new boyfriend. Old boyfriend. Whatever. Except—what the fuck? That asshole got a second chance, but Liam didn’t?

Possibly that asshole hadn’t cheated on Ben and then waited a decade and a half to try to make amends.

He’d found parking well down the block from Calvin’s house. Considering that many of the guests probably lived in town and would have walked, the number of cars suggested a serious shindig. Not that Liam would expect anything less from Calvin, but his limited experience with baby showers suggested that they tended to be more intimate affairs.

He was glad he’d gotten a gift receipt for the damn Sleep Sheep, because with this many guests there were bound to be some duplicate presents.

Yeah, that’s what he was going to worry about. That would be his dominant thought walking into this party.

Damn, I sure hope nobody else bought a Sleep Sheep. Or at least I hope my sheep is the first one to get opened so I’m not the loser who has to sit there and watch them open a present somebody else already gave them. Yeah, this Sleep Sheep thing is a real issue. I am really, really concerned about the Sleep Sheep. Nothing else. Just the sheep.

“Liam!” a jovial voice called as he approached the house. Calvin was in the doorway wearing a long, flowing shirt with some sort of characters embroidered around the hem. Ragged jeans underneath, but the shirt was festive enough to count as dressed up, at least for Uncle Calvin. And he seemed genuinely pleased to see Liam, although of course that could all be an act. Pleased that mayhem was about to erupt at his event, possibly.

Still, Liam’s smile felt pretty natural. He held up his gift box. “Have you seen anything else this size and shape? If you have, I think we need to hide the others until after mine is unwrapped. That’s totally normal, right?”

“You’re the third person who’s asked,” Calvin agreed seriously. He squinted at the box. “Football?” he guessed.

“Do babies enjoy football, generally?”

“Babies don’t give a shit. Well, no, let me correct myself—that’s about all babies do. So you might as well get them something that’ll be useful down the line.” He stood back from the door and gestured Liam inside. “I bought it a little cask of scotch. Seth and Dinah can stash it away somewhere—if they don’t get desperate and drink it themselves—and the kid can crack it open when he or she turns sixteen.”

“Uh, twenty-one, technically.”

“Technically,” Calvin agreed.

“Wait. Did you honestly buy the baby a cask of scotch?”

“Scotch doesn’t age in the bottle, so it had to be a cask for there to be any meaning to the gift.”

“You’re focusing on the ‘cask’ part. I admit, I was distracted by the ‘scotch.’ For a baby.” Liam shook his head. “I can’t decide if that’s the best baby gift I’ve ever heard of or the worst.”

“That was just the effect I was trying for.” They were in the kitchen then, and Calvin waved an arm in roughly the direction of the fridge. “Beer in there. Wine and hard stuff out on the deck. Snacks out there too.”

Liam peeked through the kitchen window and almost recoiled at the sight. The yard was jam-packed with people. There were yellow and white ribbons and sashes and huge paper flowers hanging from every tree, several oversized, inflatable animals that might have been Disney, might have been knockoffs…. “You went all out,” he managed.

“Seth’s family’s been in the area since settler days, and Dinah’s a teacher—everyone loves teachers, as long as they’re cute and sweet, which Dinah is. This party is the social event of the season.”

Cute and sweet. Sure, Liam loved cute, sweet teachers. Surly, emotionally withdrawn teachers? Were they popular with everyone too, or was Liam special that way?

He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer, then looked over at Calvin and got the nod that made him grab another. He twisted the lids off, held one of the bottles out to his host, and said, “I called Ben and asked if it was okay that I came.”

Calvin nodded. “He told me. You’re a spoilsport for ruining the surprise. I didn’t get to see the cop car incident—I was hoping to get some fun out of this.”

Which was kind of why Liam had brought the topic up. “If you’re just looking for entertainment? If I’m only here because you want to torture Ben? I know you don’t owe me anything, but we both care about Ben, so for his sake—”

“Kevin!” Calvin said brightly, looking somewhere over Liam’s shoulder. “Excellent timing! I don’t think you’ve met Liam, have you? He and Seth and Ben all grew up together. Liam, this is Kevin—he’s Ben’s date.”

Liam turned reluctantly and found himself staring at an empty doorway. “Where’d he—” he started, but one look at Calvin made it clear there had never been anyone to be introduced to. “I guess it’s too much to hope that Kevin is imaginary all the time? Like, Ben’s not actually dating anyone?”

“That would be too much to hope for, would it? That would be something really special for you?” Calvin reached up and gripped Liam’s shoulder and steered him toward the back door. They paused on the threshold, looking out at the crowd, and Calvin jerked his chin toward the big maple tree. Ben was standing underneath its branches, talking to some guy. Some guy who was smiling at Ben in a way that made Liam want to march across the yard and punch the guy in the face. And Ben was smiling back.

“Kevin,” Calvin said calmly. “He exists. And, honestly, he’s pretty nice. Unbelievably boring, but so is Ben these days. Which means they’re a good couple, I guess.”

Liam closed his eyes, but when he opened them the guy was still there, still smiling. But now Ben was looking over toward the house and had clearly seen Liam, judging by the way his expression had darkened.

So. There it was. The other guy—Kevin—made Ben smile. Liam made Ben frown. Hard to get much clearer than that.

Liam knew with a sick twist in his gut that he shouldn’t have come. Yeah, he wanted to rebuild the relationship with Seth, but there would be other opportunities for that. Times that wouldn’t be as painful. He’d only accepted Calvin’s invitation because he’d wanted to see Ben. Because he’d been a fool. Again.

Calvin clapped him on the back and said, “Put the present over on that table—we’re not going to sit around and watch them get opened. Too boring. And make sure you sign the onesie—we’re doing that instead of a guest book.”

Then he raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “Now! It’s time for the games! I warned you all that these aren’t optional… but not everyone will be taking part in every event. We need an audience of rabid fans, obviously. And don’t forget to write down your guesses for the games in the living room—guess the number of jelly beans, match the baby photos to the adult guest photos, and all the rest of that stuff. Out here, though, we’re going to be starting with the pregnant-man shoe-tie event! So, let me set up the first contestants! Only men wearing shoes that lace up are eligible!”

Liam faded back out of sight and counted himself lucky to be escaping. Keep it casual, drop off the gift, sign the damn onesie, and get the hell out of—

“Careful,” a female voice came from too close behind him. He’d almost backed into her. He turned and saw a pregnant woman smiling back at him, her hand cradled protectively over her belly. The same pregnant woman who’d been with Seth at the house site. “I’m walking for two, you know. Can’t dodge as quickly as I should.”

Oh, shit. “Did I just almost crush the guest of honor?”

She beamed at him and held out her hand. “I’ve seen you, but we’ve never really met. I’m Dinah, you’re Liam, and we should have a drink.”

“Are you allowed to drink? Not that it’s my job to police your alcohol consumption. Or anything else. Sorry. Your body is not public property.”

She smiled. “You’ve been well indoctrinated. Excellent. And of course I can drink. Not alcohol, but… liquids. You can get me a glass of the pink punch in that beehive cooler. I watched Calvin make it and put the lid on, so I know he didn’t sneak any booze into it. Then come sit with me on the porch. I’ll save you a seat.”

That wasn’t the quick escape Liam had been planning, but he wasn’t quite churlish enough to snub a woman at her own baby shower, so he did as he was told.

When he returned from the buffet table with a Solo cup full of punch, Dinah was perched on one side of the porch swing. She patted the seat next to her. “I’m not used to weighing this much. Come sit down so I don’t have to keep worrying that the whole thing is going to tip up like a see-saw.”

“That can’t really happen,” Liam said. “The design of the swing—” She raised her eyebrows. Oh. She wanted him to sit down, not give her a lecture on physics and structural mechanics.

He handed her the cup and took a seat, and for a moment they sat quietly, watching the men taking their shoes off and stuff huge balloons under their shirts.

“I’m pretty sure this is going to end with at least one injury,” Dinah said. She didn’t sound too concerned about it.

“I expect Calvin’s planned for it.”

“Hell yeah, he has. He invited both of the town’s doctors and all the nurses, plus quite a few paramedics and firefighters. If they’re not on duty, they’re here. This party is ready for anything short of thermonuclear war.”

“No cops, though?”

“Calvin doesn’t particularly care for law enforcement.”

No, he didn’t. Strange to have this woman, this stranger, remind him of that, though. “How long have you known Calvin?”

“I knew of him since a couple weeks after I moved to town, probably.” She grinned. “He’s a bit hard to miss. But I didn’t really know him until Seth and I got together. It’s been about eight years now.”

“Eight years,” Liam echoed. Seth had been involved with this woman for almost a decade, and Liam had never heard of her until the last couple weeks. Was he fooling himself, thinking there was any friendship left to reclaim?

He’d apparently been wrong about any lasting feelings from Ben, so was there any reason he’d meet a better reception from Seth?

They were quiet again, watching as the men raced across the lawn to their discarded shoes and contorted themselves, trying to get the shoes on and tied without popping their balloons.

Again, Dinah was the first to break the silence. “He missed you, you know.”

Ben? No. There was no reason for Liam to believe that, and no reason for Dinah to be talking about him. Seth. “He did? I mean, does he still, do you think? Or has a couple weeks of renewed contact taken the luster off?”

“I think you’re as lustrous as ever,” she said, and there was a light in her eyes, a curve to her lips that made him hope, stupidly, desperately, that maybe she really was talking about Ben. “You hurt him, though. You hurt both of them.”

Liam nodded. He couldn’t say he was enthusiastic about taking a scolding from this stranger, but she was Seth’s wife and this was her party.

But she surprised him with a Calvinesque shrug. “Oh well. They survived.”

“That’s it?”

Another shrug. “I could come up with something more if you wanted, but I’m not sure I’d really be able to sell it, you know? The outrage or whatever. Honestly, it was a hell of a long time ago.”

“And everything’s faded. It’s all… done.”

“Not all, maybe.”

Before he could ask her what that meant, beg her for an explanation or a benediction or whatever other deep pregnant-lady wisdom she could come up with, a balloon popped out on the lawn, and then another.

“Kevin’s out,” she said, and he hoped he heard a little satisfaction in her tone. “Oh, and Dr. Miller. That’s too bad—my money was on him.”

“Not literally? You aren’t actually betting on this?”

“Calvin’s got a book made for every event. Jesus, I can’t drink—I need to have fun somehow!”

Liam might have pushed a bit harder on that, maybe tried to figure out which events Calvin had signed him up for and what his odds for success were, but he was distracted by watching Kevin, shaking his head in defeat, returning to find comfort by Ben’s side.

Ben threw a defiant look in Liam’s general direction before he took Kevin’s hand and kissed his temple.

Dinah snorted. “You do something new to piss him off, or is he just being a brat?”

“Something new?” Did sleeping with him count as something new? “Not that I know of. But I guess it’d be easier for him if I wasn’t here.”

“Easier. Yeah, it probably would be.”

He was imagining the—the tone in her tone. Wasn’t he? He was imagining the slightest hint of a sneer, to suggestion that “easier” wasn’t a worthwhile goal for someone like Ben. She wasn’t really suggesting that Ben could do better? Better than Kevin?

Fuck. Even if she was, that didn’t mean she meant Liam.

He slumped against the back of the porch swing and drank the last of his beer.

“Good,” she said. “Now, one more. I’ve bet on you, so I want you warmed up, but not drunk. And not too full. And possibly I should tell you now—Seth and I have already made up the spare bedroom for you to sleep in. There’s absolutely no way you’re driving home after you’ve competed in all the games Calvin has you signed up for.”

“Games? Like—drinking games? At a baby shower?”

“At a Calvin baby shower.” She smiled happily. “It’s going to be a hell of a party.”