From behind my desk I stare at Atlanta’s skyline glittering in the night, grumbling into my cell phone, “You’re shitting me, Jason. She’s pregnant?”

My nomination to run for Senate was publicly announced today. The phone has been ringing nonstop, but is that why he’s calling? Nope. He’s calling to tell me to expect more changes in our friendship. He may not be putting it that way, but that’s what this means.

And while my family had a dinner to celebrate the impending announcement already — and I really didn't expect to hear anything from them today — I figured my twin brother was calling to ask how I was feeling now that the world had been notified.

I sure as fuck didn’t expect him to say, “We’re pregnant.”

He laughs, mistaking my attitude for a joke. “I know you’re happy for me, Justin. This attitude is just an act.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” I mutter before adding, “It’s just me and Jeremy now. Are we the only sane ones?”

Jason laughs outright. I wasn’t joking. I’m really asking. How did this happen? How did my brothers get rings on their fingers and chains around their legs?

Don’t they know it’s a farce?

You never know what someone is going to do, and a ring won't stop them.

“You watch. You’ll find a woman who makes you want to settle down.”

“No, Jason, I won’t. I have no interest in a life of misery. I’m content watching you guys go down the rabbit hole while I stay up here in the real world.” I pick up my fountain pen, twirling it in my hand. “Look, I’m happy for you, alright?”

That’s a lie. I hate lying. But I hate this conversation more and I want it to be over.

“Thanks, Justin. That means a lot. Will you be the godfather?”

“That means I would have to take care of the kid if something happens to you guys?”

“That’s what it means.”

“Forget it. Ask Jake. He’d be happy to. He already has a kid, and another coming. He won’t even notice if a third joins in.”

“Justin! You're my best friend and my fucking twin. I want it to be you. C’mon!”

Blinking into the dimmed office light I shake my head. “I can’t do it, Jason. I’m sorry. I’m not meant to be a father. Not even a surrogate one. I’ve gotta go.”

I’m sure he didn’t like me hanging up on him, but I won’t stand up at the baptism and pretend I’d be a good godfather.

What a mistake that choice would be.

Give me a kid and I’ll turn it into an adult with high therapy bills.

I’m not father material.

Some men just aren’t.

At least I know myself.

Rapping on the door as she pokes her newly dyed hairstyle inside, my secretary’s gritty voice interrupts, “Mr. Cocker? I have a family dinner to attend. Is it alright if I go home now?”

I nod with an absent wave. “Thanks for staying so long, Mary.”

She walks into the room in a skirt and low pumps fit for J.F.K.’s era. Old people almost always wear what they wore back when they were in their twenties. Which isn’t saying much for our generation’s future. Can’t wait to see a bunch of old guys with their pants around their thighs, waddling like wrinkly penguins.

“I’ve scheduled your first campaign trail visit to Macon, and after four more in the north, you’ll be heading south to Dublin.”

“Two weeks to prepare,” I murmur.

“Yes, sir. After Dublin, you’ll visit the lower parts of the state, finishing in Atlanta.”

“When is Savannah?”

“Right before Atlanta, sir. Second to last stop.”

“Dublin?” I ask, eyebrows rising.

“Yes, sir. That’s where your sister-in-law Drew is from and her family has ties in the community. I thought it would make a good stop so I organized an event there. I contacted the local reporters to invite them to attend. Should cover the entire vicinity in one fell swoop. Also spoke with the Charles family, her parents. They said they’d be happy to help.”

I’m impressed. “You did all that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Shaking my head, I mutter, “You really are something else. Thank you. You’ll notify reporters for all the other cities, too?”

She nods and a small smile deepens her crow’s feet. “I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”

“Very. It’s all in my calendar?”

“Yes. I also emailed the itinerary to the limousine company you prefer. Mr. Bennett confirmed a car for as long as you need one.”

“Did you ask if Harold was available to drive?”

“Of course. He can do every city except for Savannah, as he has a family engagement that weekend. You will have a different driver there, but Mr. Bennett assures me he’ll be just as reliable and amiable.”

I turn my head to stare at the distant skyscrapers again. “Have fun at your family dinner, Mary.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cocker.” Her footsteps fade away.

Long after I hear the door click behind her, I’m still staring at the view. Jason didn’t even mention my big news in that phone call. Am I just being selfish? He knows how long I’ve been working on this goal.

The phone rings and my heartbeat accelerates at the possibility that Jason realized, and is calling back to congratulate me after all. But it’s not him.

I consider letting it go to voicemail, but answer just in time. “Hi Mom.”

“Why don’t you want to be Godfather?”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “Good news travels fast.”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain when you’re turning down being a Godfather. Why did you say no? What is wrong with you?”

My shoulders tighten up. “Nothing’s wrong with me. Something’s wrong with my fucking brothers! Everyone’s having babies and falling in love. It’s disgusting.”

“If I were there I would slap you in the face!”

“Really? I doubt that. You haven’t slapped me since I was twelve.”

“Actually, you were seventeen. Remember, that teacher you…” She trails off rather than say seduced.

“That teacher I what, Mom? Learned a lot from? A whole lot? And taught even more to? That one?”

She’s not amused, which means this Godfather business is important to her. I brace myself as she launches into a verbal set-down with motherly passion.

“That was the last time I slapped you. After all that chaos you caused us and your principal and the poor faculty, much less that poor woman who fell in love with you, God bless her heart! Thank goodness they covered it up for you. How did we get on the subject? Oh yes, your foul language. If you think you can swear at your mother just because you’re lonely, then you have another thing coming.”

My throat tightens. “I’m not lonely.”

“You miss Jason. Don’t think I don’t notice these things. I know my boys. I raised you.”

Tired of arguing, I take a slow breath. “Fine, Mom. Believe what you want. They have plenty of time to pick another brother for the honor. I don't care who does it, but it's not going to be me. You’ve wasted your time in calling me.”

“I wish I had the power to open your heart, Justin. I don’t know when it closed… but I know it’s my fault.”

Rubbing my forehead, I tell her, “Don’t blame yourself for who I am, Mom.”

“It’s a mother’s job to mold her children into who they become. Who can I blame, if not me?”

I do blame someone, but it’s not her.

Nancy Cocker is a good woman.

Hell, in my book she’s a fucking saint.

“Mom, not everyone wants marriage. Not everyone wants children.”

She’s silent for a moment. “You won’t change your mind… about Jason’s child?”

“No. I won’t. You should have known better than to think you could talk me into it.”

More silence, then, “Your father just got home. I have to go greet him and make him feel welcome and loved. See, that’s what happens when you find someone you want to spend your life with. They greet you when you return home. You might like how good that feels, if you tried it. Goodnight Justin.”

She hangs up and I clutch the dead phone to my ear, face tightening more by the second. Shooting my arm out I pitch it across the room where it crashes against a wall, shattering on impact. Fragments skitter across the hardwood floor as I close my eyes.