Tongue digging into his cheek, he grinned. "True enough."
"I'd be taking every damn drug they'd give me and crying for more," said Joe. "Probably begging for my mommy. Shit like that."
"Hell," I said. "I nearly did all that and I wasn't even the one giving birth."
"To women." Pat raised his glass and we all toasted.
I cleared my throat. "But, Pat, if you pass out while Nell's pushing your baby out into the world, reasonable or not, we're going to give you shit about it for years. That's the god's honest truth."
"Forever," corrected Joe.
"Right, my bad. Forever."
"Assholes." Pat chuckled. Then he fixed me with his gaze. "It was really that intense? I mean, they showed us a documentary at the hospital class the other night. But it didn't seem that bad."
"Wait for the real thing," I said, voice serious. "There are no words."
"Damn," he muttered, going a little pale.
"Ah, true fear. Now you are beginning to understand." I laughed. "My work here is done."
With a dour look, Pat flipped me off. My brother started laughing too, thumping the bar with the flat of his hand. What can I say, a tired crowd is an easy one to entertain.
"You got him scared," said Joe, sipping at his drink.
"I'm not scared." The big, hairy, tattooed dude shook his head. "It's just ... so long as Nell's okay, everything'll be fine, you know?"
"Absolutely," I said without hesitation. "And she will be. The baby too."
"Yeah." Pat shook off the worry, raising the glass again. "Guess we should drink to Jean too."
"To Jean." Joe and I tapped our glasses against Pat's and drank.
"Doctor said she and the baby should be home in a few days."
"Great," I said, but I didn't think it would be quite so soon. She just had an operation, after all. I'd been rejigging my schedule to fit a few more visits in.
"I guess you'll be going to go up to the hospital to see her tomorrow before you open the bar?" asked Joe.
"Apparently, he's quite the birth partner." Pat grinned, scratching at his beard. "Half the nurses thought he was the father."
Something squirmed in my gut. "I'm obviously not the father," I said, shuffling my feet. "Of course I'll visit her sometime. I mean, why wouldn't I?"
"Does it feel like there's a bond there now, after seeing her through the birth?" asked Pat.
"I dunno." I shrugged. "I just happened to be there. It's not a big deal."
Joe scratched at his jawline. "You think she'd have expectations?"
"Jean's not like that," I said.
"She is alone."
I scowled. "Don't be an asshole."
"Can't see her trying to latch onto him or anything," said Pat, intervening. "She's nice."
My brother didn't seem convinced. "You have to admit, man. You do have a soft spot for the woman."
"So?" I snapped. "I might have said I'd help her out, but..."
"You did?" Joe's eyes were wide. "Maybe Pat's got a point about you stepping back before you get too involved."
"Jesus Christ." I hung my head, bracing my hands on the bar. "Why are you making this into such a big deal?"
"Because babies are a big deal," he said. "Are you sure you're not, even a little, replacing the kid you and Nell lost with Ada?"
"What?"
"It's just a thought."
"Well it makes no damn sense."
"Okay," he said. "Calm down. I just know that what happened with Nell messed you up. Don't want to see you getting involved with Jean and the baby for the wrong reasons and getting hurt."
I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Pat just raised his brows. "Fucked if I know. Figured I'd check to make sure you were okay with everything, that's all."
I picked up a glass and a cloth and got to polishing. Anything to keep my hands busy. "I thought it was the bartender's job to hand out bullshit advice. Not the idiots on the stools. Stop freaking me out."
"You're my brother," said Joe, unrepentant. "I'm supposed to worry about you."
The silence that followed was all kinds of screwed up. Same as my brain. I didn't do complications. At least, not to this degree. Surely Jean didn't expect anything big from me. Being the first person to hold Ada after the doctor had been nice and all, but it didn't mean I needed to glue myself to her and her mom. I wasn't a part of their life, not really. Would Jean think I was? Then what if she started relying on me and I let her down?
Shit.
All Joe and Pat had done was confuse the crap out of me. I needed better friends. And why did everyone else have to barge in on the scene, with their expectations and worries and demands? Jean and I had done just fine at the hospital without anyone else there. "I think I might just send some flowers."
I gulped down the last of my drink. Why the hell Pat had felt the need to bring up the accident last year and Nell losing our baby, I don't know. "Yeah," I said, warming to the idea. It felt safer, less complicated. "Flowers are nice, right? I mean, if they're going to be home in a few days anyway there's no need to be rushing over there again."
"Sure," said Pat, looking about as convinced as my brother.
"Won't she be expecting you?" asked Joe.
"Come on." I laughed. "Jean and I are just friends, neighbors. I'm glad I was there to get her to the hospital safely and everything, but honestly, we barely even know each other. There's no need for me to be hanging around, getting in the way."
Neither of the knuckleheads in front of me said a thing.
"Probably even be weird if I kept turning up."
Joe mumbled something. It sounded vaguely agreeable.
Then Pat raised his glass again. "To you being there to get her safely to hospital," he said. "Sometimes, despite everything, things can go right."
I forced the whiskey down, ignoring the continuing weird sick swirling feeling in my stomach. Everything was fine. Tomorrow, I'd definitely order her some flowers. Problem solved. Because the fact was that whatever weird bond or whatever I'd thought I'd felt with Jean and Ada, it was just a passing thing. A part of going through the whole birth and everything with her the night before. If I started blowing it up in my head, trying to make it into something more ... that would just be stupid. Like the woman didn't have enough going on with a newborn baby and recovering from surgery.
Nuh, Nell and Alex would be all over her, wanting to help. She didn't need me. In fact, things would probably just be awkward if I was around. Being the birth partner had complicated things. I'd been her only option for getting to the hospital and staying with her through it all. It felt like it should all be significant, but the fact is, it wasn't.
I don't fucking know. My mind was a mess.
"Maybe getting my vacation days out of the way before Nell goes off to have the kid is a good idea," I said, tightening my ponytail. It had nothing to do with Jean, really. Things were bound to get busy with Nell off on maternity leave. It made good business sense. "I'll talk to Lydia and Nell about it. See what they think."
Joe nodded. "True."
"Yeah, we'll see." I shrugged. "You know, a little time away might be good..."
*
"Nice tan," Jean said, three weeks later.
So I may have run away to California to hide for a while. Like a manly man. Or like an absolute ass, I don't know. "Did you get the flowers?"
"Yes. Thanks." She had to raise her voice to be heard over Ada's wails. She stood in the doorway to her apartment, kind of gently jiggling the baby in her arms. "When did you get back?"
"A little while ago." Two minutes, give or take a couple of seconds. Long enough to dump my bag at my place, hear the crying, and come knock on her door. I was truly pathetic. So much for staying away. If the woman kneed me in the balls and left me crying on the floor, it'd be no less than I deserved.
"Did you have a good vacation?" she asked, voice a little cool.
"Sure, great," I said, playing it down.
She ju
st nodded, saying nothing.
"Sorry I didn't get to say good-bye." I raised a shoulder, hesitating. "Pat and Joe didn't have much going on and were able to cover for me. Made sense to just go. Quickly. You know, business wise..."
"Right."
"Lydia's going to have some time off now that I'm back," I said. "It's not just me that's getting away for a while. Regular breaks make for better mental energy and everything. Particularly for people in management positions. Very important to step back and refresh yourself ... yeah."
She just blinked.
"What's up with her?" I cocked my head, getting a look at Ada's tiny screwed-up face. "Man, she's grown."
"It's been three weeks." Jean smiled tiredly at the baby. "As for why she's crying, I think our country's current political situation is really getting to her, you know? As a woman, she feels underrepresented and forgotten. It's upsetting."
"She's a sensitive kid."
"Yeah. That or she's overtired and can't settle. Take your pick." Jean yawned, mouth splitting wide. The bruises under her eyes and general pallor of her face were disturbing. She looked seriously run-down in her yoga pants and flannel shirt. Not that she didn't also look kick-me-in-the-ass gorgeous. Funny how sometimes you can really see people properly only when they are at the end of their tether. As if all the wear and tear just strips away the superficial crap.
She stepped back. "Well, good to see you."
"I missed you two," I blurted out, then frowned.
Jean's head shot up, surprise in her gaze. "You did?"
"Yes. A lot. Much more than I thought I would."
"Oh." Her smile was slow, even a little wary. "We missed you too."
"Good. I mean..." My brain searched for words and came up empty. I had no damn idea what I meant.
"Why are we standing in the hallway? Come on in." She stepped back, wandering into her apartment. "Oh, wait. Scratch that. I forgot that the hallway is much nicer than my apartment."