Chapter Text
When Nick and Charlie asked weeks ago what kind of party Lucy wanted, she was very clear in her answer: strawberry picnic princess pool party. In that exact order, apparently, because that’s precisely how she said it each time she repeated it. The strawberry mention makes sense, as it’s her favourite fruit. The picnic part also checks out, because she and Nick have one of sorts every Friday that the weather permits their Park Play dates. And princess, sure, obviously, since Snow White and Tangled are regular watches when she gets to dictate the entertainment. But she’s only been in a proper pool once before, and that was almost a year ago during her first trip to Menorca with Nick’s side of the family.
However, Toddler Time at the local library read Dottie Dots Pool Party not long before Lucy made her theme decision. The book is short and sweet, with brightly coloured pictures illustrating how Dottie the cat overcomes her fear of being made fun of for being a cat who rather atypically likes to swim and even dive. In the end, she stays true to herself and attends a friend’s pool party with confidence in her passion of the water. Nick and Charlie figure Lucy must’ve been thinking of the book when she declared her celebration a strawberry picnic princess pool party.
So, they’re trying their best to make Lucy’s seemingly random string of words into a reality. Last year, on her first birthday, they kept it lowkey and simple. The family of three visited Sarah, Jane, and Julio upon returning to Truham, then they travelled on the train to Nick and Charlie’s favourite bit of beach. Where Nick publicly and loudly declared them boyfriends for the first time. Where the two returned the morning after their wedding in the park by the fallen tree — before catching a plane to their Grecian honeymoon — so Nick could lift Charlie in his arms again and wade into the water just to shout husband status this time, and promptly sunk both of them into the water just once before they hastily retreated to the sand to wrap in thick towels, shivering into slow kisses until they had to change and head to the airport.
Nick chose fairly easy-to-eat pool party fare — like homemade pizzas with a variety of toppings that are to be cut up and shared, chopped veg and fruit platters with an assortment of dips, tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole, and ice lollies — as well as classic picnic food — such as mini sausage rolls and quiches, pasta salad, and a cheese board. And of course, the strawberry lemonade cupcakes and three flavours of ice cream: vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Pink lemonade was the obvious choice for the featured beverage, but Nick also grabbed some sparkling water, extra milk, and juice for the kids. For the adults, he got rosé wine and beer, with plans to mix up some piña coladas for the full pool party vibe. It may be too much food, but better to have leftovers and send the guests home with full plates, rather than run out prematurely.
Charlie scoured local online sales and marketplace finds to put together decor that encompassed all of Lucy’s wants. There’s varying shades of pink and white gingham and stripes everywhere, hanging strawberry garland, and a pink inflatable paddling pool with little inflatable accessories like beach balls, flamingoes, and gold crowns in sizes fit for the kids. He somehow — luckily and gratefully — found an older woman looking to downsize selling a little stool carved like a strawberry for a great price and when he arrived to pick it up, she offered to throw in a bundle of tiki torches and two large bags of artificial pink Plumeria leis when he explained why he needed such a thing as a toddler-sized fruit-shaped seat. For easy cleanup to stay on theme, Charlie chose paper plates and cups made to look like fancy gold tableware, elaborate in shape and etched with filigree patterns resembling details of a tiara, alongside hot pink plastic flatware, and a batch of reusable beach ball training cups with lids and straws to give the toddlers to avoid spills. And strung up along the entire length of the wooden horizontally-slatted fence of their backyard, Charlie purchased just enough oversized fairy lights to encase in thin paper shades, showcasing a sun relief he handcrafted to let the glow through, calling to mind the floating lanterns guiding Rapunzel home on her birthday. It may be a bit over the top, but seeing Lucy’s little face beaming at the final result is all worth it.
Not long before guests are set to arrive, the decorations all secured and everyone else changed into their party clothes — which is really just beachwear — Charlie collects Lucy from her grandmothers’ watch and gets her dressed in the one-piece swimsuit she immediately fell in love with upon their search for pool party appropriate attire. It’s white, covered in big illustrated strawberries in bright pink and baby pink, accented with a ruffle along the neckline and a green belt to tie around the waist, matching the leaves on the fruit featured. When reminded she had to pick something she could also take to Menorca, Lucy doubled down and promised to wear it every single day of their holiday. According to her instructions, Charlie pulls her hair into low pigtail buns in anticipation of wearing a blow-up tiara for at least a few minutes of the day. Lucy insists on a large assortment of hair clips, though, including colours of pink, green, red, gold, and white, since those are the hues Charlie told her were most prominent in the backyard.
After slathering Lucy in sun cream, Charlie bundles her in one arm to carry her downstairs and covers her eyes with the opposite hand, making sure everything and everyone’s in place for the party reveal. Lucy vibrates with excitement, holding tightly to Charlie’s hand on her face, and she’s smiling so wide he can’t help but laugh at the sight.
And he thinks of the first time she ever smiled at him when she was nearly seven weeks of age, when Nick brought her for a quick visit to his office in between a mid-morning nap and designated tummy time. Charlie turned in his chair at his desk to face her, holding her little hands in his, talking sweetly about how much he missed her in the few hours since his last break, and baby Lucy reacted with the brightest grin. Her whole face lit up, seemingly in recognition, as she studied Charlie’s face with her dark eyes, wide with wonder, and she just continued to smile at her daddy. Charlie then smothered her face in kisses before doing the same to Nick’s, while Nick sobbed through joyful giggles at the unexpected social milestone. Now she’s her fathers’ “big gurl” and Charlie wonders where the time went. How two years slipped by so quickly and he finds himself missing that tiny baby.
As he brings Lucy into the living room, his eyes find Nick’s where he stands in the kitchen and Charlie’s sure they’re having the same thought. Reminiscing, remembering, playing mental reels of all the smallest moments, the seemingly insignificant details, the everyday they’ve settled into, how their lives are divided into “before Lucy” and “after Lucy,” and how they wouldn’t change a single second of it, even the hardest parts. Nick grins, crooked then quivering for just a second, and he blinks, looking elsewhere, as he heads over to greet the birthday girl.
When Nick arrives by Charlie’s side, Charlie gives him a quick kiss on the lips, then turns attention back to Lucy to ask, “Ready, Goose?”
“My potty?” she questions.
“Yep,” Charlie assures her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “your party’s all ready.”
So he drops his hand and Lucy opens her eyes to take it all in, travelling from the banner reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” they hung first thing this morning in the kitchen just for birthday breakfast, to the island with the drink station including mini beach balls, to the dining table draped with picnic fabric and full of a variety of food, to the wide open double French doors leading to the backyard. Amongst the cement of the patio, the usual outdoor furniture set, and the greenery of the clipped lawn lies the shallowly filled pool and a beautiful burst of decorations surrounding the fixture. Lucy gasps when she sees it, pointing, gaze flicking from Charlie to Nick and then back to the yard, like she can’t believe it’s real.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Nick tells her, pressing his lips to the back of her hair.
She scrunches her nose at him, about to object.
“Happy birthday, big girl,” Charlie corrects before his daughter can, winks at Nick, and gives Lucy a kiss of his own, then sets her on her feet so she can explore. She finds Jane and Sarah, grabbing each of their hands in one of hers, and she leads them outside, directly to the pool, as she goes on and on, babbling about the sights before them.
Charlie shuffles close to Nick’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him in for a proper kiss this time. Nick slips an arm over Charlie’s shoulders and they allow themselves a moment or two to watch as Julio — piña colada already in the cup in his hand — and a trailing Daisy join the group in the yard, seeing to the little girl, marvelling at the party scene, finding chairs to sink into and a sunny spot in the grass for Daisy, and running their fingers through the warm water, testing splashes. Lucy’s still so visibly excited, she’s darting from one place to another, pointing and shouting and giggling.
Nick leans in, breath hot on Charlie’s ear when he says, “Love you, Char. So much.”
“Love you,” Charlie answers so sincerely his voice wavers a little. He snuggles his face into Nick’s shoulder and asks him lowly, “Ready to party?”
“Oh, I was born to party,” Nick chuckles, then drags Charlie over the threshold of the doors by his hands, already threatening to throw him into the pool that’s no doubt too small to even fit the whole of him.
———
The Nelson-Spring backyard is a sizeable chunk of manicured lawn and deep patio surrounded by wooden fence — enough room for Lucy and Daisy to chase each other around as Nick tends to his garden and Charlie works any sunny days from his laptop, situated at the outdoor dining set — but with the large turnout to celebrate Lucy’s birthday, it’s verging on crowded. Adults gather with drinks and plates of food, some in outdoor chairs, some in folding chairs, and some lounging on the grass, lingering in casual groups to talk and get to know each other, mingling with those they already know and those they’ve just been introduced to. The majority of the kids are already friends from Lucy’s social hours, but even those that have just met seem to immediately get on, holding hands and weaving in and out of the empty spaces they fit into, finding their way to the pool — where Charlie’s stationed at the edge to play lifeguard — and to the free area next to it where the music’s blaring loudest, so they can follow Lucy’s lead and dance without a care. A few are sitting with their parents, getting bites to eat and drinks to sip, though their eyes steadily check to see if it’s time for cupcakes yet. Jane and Sarah are sticking close to Lucy, as she’s told every single person at the party — one-by-one and with utter delight — who they are and how she knows them: Daddy or Papa’s “mumses,” as she gets confused on the plural of the matter. Julio’s just sitting back, relaxing, watching the scene unfold in front of him, beaming at his sons and granddaughter in turn, radiating pride at his family and their friends. Nick’s manning the kitchen and living room with watchful eyes, making sure no drinks run dry, no food fails to be refilled, no guest left unsatisfied with the offerings. He even specially makes a toddler named Sasheer — from Lucy’s music class — a cheese toastie when she steadfastly refuses a bite of anything on the plate her father put in front of her.
Nick and Charlie are good at throwing parties, it turns out, as they haven’t been responsible for such a large gathering since their reception with a similar setup at Sarah’s house and into her backyard. Lucy’s ecstatic at all the people, big and little, and the fact that they all wish her a happy birthday. She greets every guest as they arrive, with the help and encouragement of her grandmothers, of course, and doles out bear hugs as if she’s biologically related to her papa, the gift of the perfect wrapping of arms around another clearly inherited regardless. Alongside friends and neighbours, including Edie the fetch-loving Spaniel and her owner Ali, the Paris Squad arrives in two clumps: Sahar, her husband Tony, and Isaac in one car and Imogen, her girlfriend Gabby, Tara, and Darcy in another.
Sahar, Tony, and Isaac eventually — and separately — moved outside of the city, while the rest of the friend group still live in greater London. Sahar and Tony settled in a flat fit for two in the suburbs, an eclectic neighbourhood where lots of other creatives of all kinds reside. After attending two years of uni, Sahar dropped out when the band she was playing guitar for had a single that rapidly gained in popularity once Elle used it in one of her social media videos. They only had the one hit and disbanded two years later after a semi-successful attempt at touring on the strength of just the well-known song. She took about a year away from the spotlight, working part-time as a receptionist and full-time as a songwriter, composing songs on her own in the bubble of her and Tony’s second bedroom, which they converted into her private studio space. Sahar’s been an indie musician ever since, with three albums, five EPs, and two long-term, multi-country tours under her belt. Tony works in finance and holds down the fort at home while she’s on the road, caring for their two dogs and two cats. The couple met at an underground club where Sahar regularly performed when she had just released her first EP. They moved fast — moving in together after a month, engaged by their five-month anniversary, married just before celebrating a year together, and adopted their first “fur-baby” two months later.
Isaac fell into a group of like-minded and sexuality-similar individuals — some on the ace-spectrum, some on the aro-spectrum, some both, and some who chose that kind of lifestyle for their own personal reasons, like medical issues or trauma — in his final year at uni. They all live on a sprawling property, formerly a working farm, in the countryside not far from the outskirts of London. Each person has their own little home on the land, living and working independently, but there’s also a larger communal space where they can gather for meals or movie nights or game nights or just do their own thing in the company of others. Nick and Charlie visited a couple of times before they had Lucy, once spending the night, and were impressed by how well the community functioned. Like a big group of predominantly single friends who’ve chosen to share their lives together in ways that make them most comfortable. To no one’s shock, Isaac landed a job at a new and used bookstore right out of uni and was eventually promoted all the way up to manager, which means he can delegate enough time to read what seems to be the majority of the shop’s inventory. On the side, he anonymously runs a book-reviewing blog. Charlie likes to send him sly emails about upcoming book releases and details that only the authors — and their editor — would know, sometimes even sharing excerpts early or including him in focus groups, and in turn, Isaac provides honest and fair feedback and shares approved secrets as blind items on his blog to rustle up more interest.
Imogen graduated uni with a business degree, just as planned, and immediately rose in ranks to managerial duty at various businesses for a number of years, bouncing from job to job, thinking she’d find the right fit one day. But it felt like that day never came, or not within her preferred timeframe, until one day — upon falling down a rabbit hole of memories, scanning through the depths of her and her friends’ social media histories, and eventually landing in her own phone gallery — an idea came to her: open her own business, a clothing store catering to a queer audience. She always loved clothes, loved styling herself, and how in adulthood, it made her feel like a more powerful woman because of it, so it made sense. Queer Couture had its grand opening in Soho three years ago and when it generated a tidy profit in its first year, Imogen moved into the flat right above the shop. She’s set to expand into a sister store for interiors called Rainbow Rooms within the next few months. After coming out as lesbian to herself and to Nick, and then publicly, Imogen and Sahar tried for a real relationship for a bit. They called it quits just before they attended different universities, though they kept in touch throughout Sahar’s school years and on more-than-friendly terms when they were both home for holidays. But then Imogen met Gabby on campus and knew she wanted more than what she and Sahar could ever give each other. Imogen and Gabby were also off and on for a while, with lots of drama, tries at relationships with other women, and will-they-won’t-they commitment issues. They seemingly ended the pairing for good in their mid-20s, but fate had other plans and they reunited properly, romantically, a year ago. There’s been whispers of an impending invitation to move in together, but for now, Gabby technically still has her own flat near the West End, where she works in theatre.
Darcy skipped uni, as expected, and continued working as a barista whilst staying with their paternal grandmother until Tara graduated uni with degree in law, then the two found a flat of their own as Tara gained her needed experience at a London firm. She became a practising solicitor by the age of 26, specialising in commercial law. Darcy got into queer activism, particularly trans and non-binary rights, as they felt compelled to be heavily involved against the way tides were changing for the worse. They co-founded a queer-centred charity with a couple of other dedicated-to-the-cause trans friends they met through multiple Pride events. The charity — aptly named Protect the Pride, or “PTP” for short — provides education for questioning individuals, valuable resources for queer communities, and aid for struggling queer youth, as well as bringing together and transporting advocates for events, marches, protests, lectures, and even political meetings. Darcy and Tara eloped during a spontaneous trip to Las Vegas a few years back, but decided to make it legally official shortly thereafter by having a simple civil ceremony at a registry office. Nick and Charlie were their only witnesses.
So the Paris Squad lives on into adulthood, albeit more in group chats than in-person gatherings, though smaller get-togethers are far more frequent, seeing as how the scheduling’s easier amongst fewer people. The last time every single friend was present in the same place was shortly after Lucy was born, when they all came to celebrate and meet the new addition at Nick and Charlie’s house. Just as they’re celebrating her today. After hellos and hugs, Nick and Charlie introduce their oldest friends to the rest of the guests, and it shouldn’t be a surprise that they seem to integrate seamlessly, but it’s almost like a confirmation to the parents. That they’ve found the right kind of people, surrounded themselves with the best community they could, those that love them and their beloved daughter, giving her the safest space possible to thrive and grow and learn and be herself no matter who she is and still be shrouded in love and support.
From his place near the pool, Charlie eyes the crowd through suddenly blurry vision behind his dark sunglasses. He blinks slowly, taking a deep breath, watching those around him as if he’s just a spectator. Tara and Darcy are fawning over Edie and chatting up Ali and another neighbour, Tommy, who’s holding his bashful son, Patrick, encouraging him to pet the senior dog. Rachel’s talking to Isaac, getting book recommendations to read while attempting to rock Milo to sleep each night. Dina’s in a group with Imogen, Gabby, and a few parents from Toddler Time — Rashida, Marcus, Sola, and Danny — all laughing uproariously. Basking in the warm water and streak of sunlight in the pool are five little ones Charlie’s known since they were babies — Milo, Gracie, Mason, Harry, and Sutton. Daisy’s in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, on her back, demanding belly-rubs from anyone who passes by, including Sahar, Charlie’s work friend Gabe, and his daughter Abigail.
And from the crowd emerges Nick, smiling right at Charlie as the sunlight catches his hair, turning it nearly golden, a full plate of food in one hand and two drinks in the other. Walking beside him is the birthday girl, hanging onto the hem of his swim shorts with her fingers, and she’s grinning too, wider with every step they get closer. The two most precious people to Charlie, headed his way, and it hits him all over again, like a powerful punch to his gut, that this is his family. The husband he’s loved since he was a teenager and the daughter he knew was meant to be theirs the moment they met her birth mother. The best gift they’ve ever received.
Nick sets his items down in the grass next to Charlie, then grasps Lucy’s hand in his, twirling her a couple of times before she giggles at getting dizzy and plops into Charlie’s lap. Eyeing his husband, Nick tells him, “Goose said it’s time to eat.”
“You hungry, baby?” Charlie asks Lucy, resting his chin on the top of her head as his arms encircle her. She leans into his chest, comfortable, and puts her index finger to her throat, drawing a line down. It’s the sign for “thirsty” and gives away that she’s in low gear for the time being, recharging while resting and refueling, similar to how Nick does when clinging to Charlie. “Well, let’s get your drink then first, yeah?”
Nick hands the beach ball training cup to their daughter, helping her position the straw at her mouth, and sits at Charlie’s side, their thighs touching. “Hi, darling,” Nick greets softly, his fingers in Charlie’s hair as he kisses him quickly.
Charlie doesn’t let him get away so fast, drawing him back in for another kiss, humming contentedly. “Hi.”
“Brought you some too,” Nick explains, pushing the plate towards Charlie. Half of the food is cut into toddler-sized pieces, the other half is adult — albeit Charlie-sized — portions.
Digging in with a piece of pizza, Charlie watches Nick, expecting him to eat as well. “None for you?”
“Char, I’m on food duty,” he chuckles, putting a hand on his stomach. “I’ve been eating this whole time.” Smiling, Nick jokes, “Y’know, quality control. I had to.”
Lucy passes off her drink to Nick, done sipping for now, so Charlie tempts her with a bit of sausage roll from their shared plate, and she takes it happily, chewing it well and smiling when she swallows. She’s clearly a fan, but reaches for the pizza next.
“Papa made you some good pizza, love?” Charlie questions.
Lucy nods enthusiastically. “Good pee-suh!” She puts another small piece into her mouth.
“And how do you like my pizza?” Nick asks Charlie quietly, his lips near Charlie’s ear.
Charlie winks at his husband, stifles a chuckle, and replies, “Best pizza I’ve ever had.”
They laugh and Lucy joins in too, like she’s in on the joke, and Charlie kisses Nick’s lips once more. Nick plants a peck on Charlie’s shoulder as Charlie takes another bite of his pizza.
“Making out at a party,” Darcy teases loudly from behind the trio. “There’s the Nick and Charlie I know.”
———
When everyone joins to sing Lucy the birthday song to the best of their ability — the especially young guests not yet knowing the actual words — there’s a seconds-long pause before the name’s usually inserted and then a chorus of voices that includes “Lucy,” “Lu,” and “Goose,” depending on who’s saying it, and they all laugh, Lucy’s giggling the loudest, ringing full and above the others. So much so, she’s breathless as it comes time to blow out the candle atop her cupcake. Charlie suggests her little friends help her with the task and she nods, then they all gather close to exhale forcefully on Charlie’s count of three. And it’s a chaotic, slobbery mess, resulting in more laughter from the crowd, in particular the kids. Nick swaps out the spit-soaked cupcake for a fresh one while people are mostly distracted — sharing a smirk and a wink with Charlie when he spots his husband doing so — just before Lucy grabs a fistful of icing and shoves it into her mouth. The guests cheer for her diving in without hesitation and soon, the only traces left of the dessert are crumbs stuck to the smear of icing on her face.
After the cupcakes are almost all devoured and the kids are hopped up on the sugar, Lucy opens presents. Very forcefully, as if said sugar gave her super strength and the will to destroy wrapping paper. Her expression is hilarious as she rips and tears at the seams of each gift, looking like she’s doing an impression of the Hulk, all angry straining and exaggerated surprise. She squeals at every single item she receives, from books to her first make-up kit to mini bottles of sparkly nail polish to Magna-Tiles. Tao and Elle shipped over a Bitty Baby doll with similar features to Lucy’s and a few accessories from the American Girl company, directly from the Los Angeles store. Nick and Charlie give Lucy a mint and white balance bike with a brown basket on the front and a helmet to match. As a baby, she loved riding in a safety seat on either of her dads’ bikes as they toured the neighborhood, so now she can start learning how to ride her own. Lucy’s grandparents chipped in to buy her a cabin-style playhouse on stilts with a little slide on one side and a small ladder on the other. It has to be assembled, though, so most of the adults work together to build it as quickly as they can, with the kids running in circles around them, begging to play in the new building. It takes a good 45 minutes to complete, but once Lucy gets the first go down the slide, the kids all take turns exploring the inside, climbing the ladder, sliding to the grass below, and peering out from the tiny porch.
Hours into the party, luckily after all the big planned milestones like the birthday song, presents, games, and a designated dance competition — all the kids were deemed winners, the adults the losers — nap time rears its ugly head, seemingly hitting all the toddlers at once. The parents knew it was inevitable, as it happens nearly daily around this time, and that’s the end of the festivities for the kids. When Lucy suddenly erupts into irrational hysterics because Toddler Time friend Brody tries on her helmet without asking — she’s usually so good at sharing — Nick and Charlie are aware it’s because she’s exhausted and needs some quiet time. They suggest she say a general goodbye to her friends, but she’s in full meltdown with a steady stream of tears spilling over her red cheeks, sobbing babble nonsensically, and clutching fitfully to Charlie’s fitted vest, burying her warm face in his chest.
So he takes her upstairs to change her into dry clothes and put her to bed with Lemmy, as Nick politely ushers out the majority of the birthday guests, thanking them and telling them to enjoy the rest of the afternoon as they go — parents with kids needing naps mostly. Milo is the only toddler to resist a rest, as he often does, though he quietly hangs onto Dina as she visits with other remaining adults. And when Lucy’s finally out for at least an hour or so, Charlie comes back out to the yard with monitor in hand, ready to catch up with everyone he hasn’t had much of a chance to talk to.
“Charles!” Darcy calls the second he steps outside, motioning him over into a huddle consisting of them, Tara, and Isaac. “OG! My original gay!”
Charlie laughs and joins them.
“Little Goose,” they continue, “Gosling, if you will —”
“I won’t,” Charlie teases, feigning a disapproving grimace.
“— told me a funny story earlier,” Darcy finishes.
The Paris Squad use Nick and Charlie’s nickname for their daughter, as the little girl is the first — and thus far, only — child of the friend group. They all feel parental toward her, or at least see her as their “mascot,” as Isaac said at first meeting her. She even has her own emoji in the group chat: 🪿, obviously.
“Oh, god,” Charlie groans. “What’d she say?”
“Are you and Nicholas in the habit of purchasing babies off the black market, mate?”
“Darcy!” Tara chides, wide eyed, but can’t help the chuckle that rises in her throat.
Isaac also giggles from behind the pages of his latest read.
Charlie nods knowingly. “She told you she was two quid, didn’t she?”
“Precisely.”
Tara nods, attempting to conceal her amused smile behind the drink in her hand.
Isaac seconds, “Yeah, she told me that too.”
“No, Darce,” Charlie sarcastically replies. “We wanted to save our money, so we just went with an old-fashioned kidnapping instead.”
“I always knew you’d be a criminal mastermind if you put that big brain of yours to it,” Darcy retorts.
“Ugh,” Charlie scoffs, but throws his arms open, ready for a group hug. “I’ve missed you guys!”
———
It’s dark out, but the lanterns are still glowing. It’s past Lucy’s bedtime, but her dads allowed her to stay up a little later to see the end of her birthday, though that doesn’t mean she’s awake. The party’s well and truly done, with the only guests still lingering being those of the Paris Squad and their plus ones, broken into little uneven groups around the backyard, catching up, making up for lost time in between increasingly longer time apart. It’s bittersweet, these reunions when they finally all get the time, but with age inevitably comes distance.
Nick’s eyes slide from person to person — this beloved found family, and literal family now, in the case of his husband — as he takes a sip of his sweating beer. Charlie’s chatting animatedly with Isaac and Darcy near the ajar French doors leading to the kitchen. Sahar and Imogen, alongside their significant others who seem to just be nodding into the conversation, are talking quietly in the darkened corner. Nick’s seated in a chair about halfway in between the gatherings, Lucy in his lap, her legs fallen to either side of his hips, body leaned forward against his chest, head resting at his heart, completely and utterly asleep. Too much excitement, too much nonstop play, too short of a nap, no doubt more sugar than advisable, and an hour she doesn’t typically see are all working against her. But Nick doesn’t mind. One arm is propped on the armrest, holding his dripping bottle. The other is curled onto Lucy, alternating lovingly patting at her lower back in a slow beat and gently running his fingers over her messy hair. Both he and Charlie attempted to tame it back into pigtails throughout the day, but they gave up shortly after dinner. It was just leftover pizza and party food, picked at and over by those who stayed to visit a while longer, including Rachel, Dina, and Milo. They left only an hour ago when Milo finally passed out.
Another mouthful of tepid beer and a hand lands on Nick’s shoulder, as someone drops into the seat next to him. He glances over at Tara. There’s a look on her face, in the way she’s smiling, how her eyes search his face for just a second or two, and then she nods knowingly.
“I feel like we didn’t get to properly talk today,” she tells him.
Nick grins, swallowing, and returns her nod. “Yeah, sorry about that. Turns out baby birthdays are quite a handful.”
Tara reaches out to tuck wayward strands of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. In the dim light, Nick could swear her expression looks just the slightest bit sad. But she says, “It suits you, you know. Having a family. Being a dad.” Any hint of an emotion other than pride evaporates as she grins wide. “You look …” She searches for the right word. Settling on, “Content.”
“And you’d be right,” Nick replies. He finds Charlie in the light pouring from the doorways, watching him, marvelling at his husband like he’s laying eyes on Charlie for the first time all over again. When he looks back at Tara, he asks her, “How bout you? How’re you doing these days?”
Of course they have the always-open text thread of the group, but it feels insignificant compared to a heart to heart, the kind they used to have when Nick would drive her to dance lessons before the separation of uni.
“Honestly?” Tara questions.
Nick’s stomach drops, suddenly afraid he missed something. He nods surely, wanting to right his wrong. “Of course. Always.”
“It’s been a rough few months.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should’ve checked in. You can tell me —”
“I know I could’ve,” she assures him with a smile. She means it. “I thought about it. But it was more of a … maybe an inner identity crisis, I suppose.”
“How so?”
“I guess I’ve felt a little unsatisfied. I’ve been burnt out for so long and for what? I mean, my career’s been good to me, but I …” Tara chuckles, shaking her head. “I don’t even like being a solicitor. I never have. I somehow convinced myself that’s what I should do and I just did it without really thinking about how that would feel for, like, the rest of my life. So, I’ve been thinking about it. And talking to Darcy.” Upon hearing their name, even as lowly as Tara says it, they turn to grin at her, then blow a kiss before returning to their conversation. Tara sighs, continues, “We’ve made some pretty big decisions.”
Nick wonders if Lucy can hear the way his heart skips a beat, worried. “Like what?”
“We’re moving.”
He swallows hard. “Oh.” It’s already so difficult to keep up and life is flying by so fast and now it feels like regret, the fact that he didn’t reach out more often or request more meetups or make more of an effort to join the couple in the city or extend more invitations for them to come to the house, even just to hang out. “And you’re moving for a job you like more, or …”
“Kind of,” she answers. “I’m, uh, taking a break. From law and from the city. Our new house is a short bus ride to this cute little studio. Right by a primary school and not too far to a secondary school. So, I signed a lease.”
Nick’s having a hard time understanding, unable to connect the dots. Maybe he’s had too much to drink. “For a studio?”
“I’m gonna open my own dance studio. Teach kids dance after school.”
“Oh my god,” he breathes, breaking into a smile he didn’t expect. But it’s natural, just like Tara’s decision. Of course that’s what she should be doing. “That’s brilliant.”
Tara giggles at his stunned reaction. “Thanks. I thought so too.”
“And - and, so —” Nick tries to put it all together, thoughts racing in different directions. “So you’ve already bought a house and signed a lease and - and you’re — Well, what about Darcy? PTP’s based out of London.”
“Which isn’t too far from our new house. They don’t have a set schedule, which works for them. But they can maybe ride with Charlie a couple days a week.”
“With Charlie?” His head’s spinning. Definitely drunk. “Where …”
“I’ve been told our new neighbour’s pretty famous around here.” Tara’s bursting with excitement now, Nick can feel it. But he’s still at a loss, reasoning swimming in beer and chaos leftover from the party. “She was actually here earlier.”
“Your neighbour was here?”
Giggling, Tara knows Nick’s lagging. His face says it all. So she says it directly. “We bought the house next door to Edie.”
Remaining silent, it finally clicks into place for Nick. His eyes light up and he wraps his arms instinctively around his daughter, hugging her first, as he jumps from his seat and grabs Tara in a secondary hug, trying not to squish Lucy too hard between them. “No fucking way!”
Tara pulls Nick and Lucy close, returning the hug happily. “Yeah, we’re gonna be right down the street.”
Hearing Lucy groan sleepily, though she doesn’t make an attempt to move, Nick eventually lets go of Tara. “So, wait, you’re serious? You’re both coming here? This neighbourhood?”
“We officially got the house about a week ago, yeah.”
Nick’s eyes go wide. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, I wanted to be sure this was what I wanted.” Tara looks at Darcy again. “What we needed.”
Nick looks too, only to find Charlie, Isaac, and Darcy all gazing at him, apparently aware of the news. The other group are also watching him. They’re all highly amused at his reaction, chuckling amongst themselves. In the shadows cast on his face, Charlie appears teary-eyed, but happy, almost smug.
“Did you know?” Nick asks loudly enough for the words to travel to his husband.
Charlie shrugs, noncommittal, like it’s no big deal. “I might even know the little birdy that told them the house was on the market.”
Nick turns to Tara, still in shock. “Did everyone know before me?”
Tara smiles guiltily. “Maybe.”
“So …” Nick hesitates, sits down again. Lucy shifts with the movement, sighing like she’s at the edge of waking, so he cradles her to his chest, rocking a bit to settle her like a lullaby. “So, when is — you’re moving soon?”
“Well, yeah,” Tara replies, mirroring Nick’s relaxing back into his chair. “We’ve already started moving our things in. I already left my job. Like I said, already found the studio. But, um, that’s not really all.”
“There’s more?”
“When I said big decisions, I meant big.”
“Okay. I’m ready for more.”
“You sure?”
Nick blinks, inhales a deep breath, and slowly lets it out. “I think so.”
“You know Darcy’s work deals with queer kids. Well, mostly teenagers. Getting them out of unsafe conditions. Building a support system.”
“Course.”
“They’ve been working on incorporating a mentoring programme into PTP. Sort of similar to fostering. A temporary place for them to land until they can settle on their own or into a more supportive environment.”
“That’s amazing. For kids who don’t have someone like you, your mum, and Darcy’s gran, yeah?”
“Exactly.” And the sparkle in Tara’s eyes tells Nick everything he needs to know. This is where her heart belongs. She’s found her way in this life, if a bit of a detoured path. “Our new house is three bedrooms. Well, we think we can maybe make it four. So we’ll be taking in kids who need help through the programme. And when the charity finds a more permanent solution for them, we’ll take in more. A rotating door for queer kids in need.”
“That …” Nick wishes he didn’t have that last beer. And maybe the one before that. He might be too drunk to fully process all of this good news, but he knows he’s ecstatic about it, for Tara and Darcy, for the youth they’ll be shaping and supporting, for the community they’re helping to build nearby. And above it all, he’s proud. It makes his head pound dizzily and his chest thump wildly, but he’s so grateful these are his friends, that found family he fell into at 16, and before he can even blink it back, a lone tear streaks down his cheek. Nick laughs, wiping it away with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I just …”
Tara smiles. A smile that tells him she’s not too far from crying too.
“That’s so fucking incredible,” he tells her, voice wavering.
Suddenly, familiar arms fold at his shoulders and warm lips press to his temple. Charlie asks softly, “Alright, love?”
Nick nods, nuzzling into the weave of the cardigan Charlie pulled on when the sun set. “Yeah. It’s just really good news.”
———
Nick’s standing in the middle of the closet he shares with Charlie, damp hair dripping from a few ends, and completely naked, his towel fallen to the floor already. He grabs a pair of pyjama bottoms, pulling them on roughly, as he’s a little unsteady on his feet. Charlie’s in bed and it’s time for Nick to join him, post-shower. It’s been a long day. A good day, but busy and full and exciting and eventful and overwhelming in the best of ways, and long. Tara and Darcy left shortly before, the last of the guests to leave, though there was no hurry to bid them farewell after Nick finally put Lucy in her cot. There was so much more to talk about and Nick still can’t seem to wrap his head around it all just yet.
It’s dark in the bedroom, but Nick knows the path to his side of the bed like the back of his hand. Nearly to the edge, he stumbles over his own foot he apparently didn’t pick up high enough, and Charlie asks, “How much did you have to drink?”
“A few beers,” Nick answers, sliding under the covers. Then he rolls just enough to land atop Charlie, as Charlie’s thighs open to welcome him. “Not drunk, though.”
Charlie’s arms settle over Nick’s bare shoulders. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”
Nick’s lips find Charlie’s, kissing him eagerly, humming as he settles against as much of his husband as he can manage. “Just pleasantly buzzed.”
Chuckling, Charlie questions, “You sure about that?”
Nick kisses him again and Charlie’s fingers sink into his wet hair. A moan escapes Nick as he slots their hips together, rolling hard. Charlie lets a hand wander, down Nick’s back and onto his arse, encouraging. So Nick does it again and they both respond with breathy sounds, deepening their kisses. Then Nick pulls away, only to catch his breath, panting, feeling the room spin sideways.
“Char?”
Charlie leans up to kiss Nick again. “Yeah, baby?”
Nick smiles, tracing Charlie’s facial features with gentle fingertips. “We should get started on baby number two.” And he rolls his hips again.
“Aw, babes,” Charlie coos with a giggle. “You’re clearly drunk if you think this,” he squeezes Nick’s arse cheek for good measure, “is gonna get us a baby. I hate to be the bearer of bad news …”
“That’s not …” Nick grows quiet. Licks his lips and swallows, trying to focus his eyes on Charlie’s in the dark. “I mean … I wanna apply again. Adopt another baby.”
The room goes quiet, aside from their inhales and exhales.
Seemingly nervous at his sudden declaration, Nick goes on quickly, like he’s desperate to explain, “I know we haven’t really talked about it seriously since … We always planned for more, y’know? I know it might not happen or … It’s just - we know it takes a while. And we thought a smaller age gap would be better. Like, before, when we …” He sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on you. Not like this. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I … If you don’t feel the same way, I get it. We can talk about it later, y’know, when you’ve had time to think about it and I’m not maybe drunk and …” He goes to shift away from Charlie, to crawl beside him beneath the sheets, the mood obviously killed.
But Charlie uses his legs to lock Nick in place, securing his grasp around Nick’s shoulders, and bumps their noses together. “I want that too,” he admits quietly, as if scared to say it aloud.
“We can both just think about it. You don’t have to say you agree —”
“But I do.” Charlie clarifies, “I’ve been thinking about it too. I guess it’s kinda hard not to with Goose’s birthday. And you’re right. It’s not like it’ll happen immediately. If we start the process now …”
“And you’re serious?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Nick grins down at his husband, the dad to his daughter and any other kids to come. He presses a kiss to Charlie’s lips. “Not, like, right now now, though, yeah?”
“Yes,” Charlie replies sarcastically. “Please fill out the application whilst drunk. I’d love to see if they’d give us a kid then.”
“Buzzed,” Nick corrects him, face falling to Charlie’s neck. Nick’s lips ghost at his jaw, warm breath causing goosebumps on Charlie’s skin. “Not drunk.”
Charlie sighs, turning his head to allow Nick more access. The tips of his fingers press into Nick’s back. “Two quid says you’ll be passed out in no time.”
Nick snorts at the reference, laughing. When he lifts his face, he raises an eyebrow at Charlie. “Your daughter’s pretty adorable. I think I’d like a few more with you.”
“A few?” Charlie scoffs. “We’re up to a few more now?”
“If they were all like Goose, I’d have so many more with you.”
“Okay, I want a number. I’m retracting my agreement until you give me a maximum figure.”
Nick feigns a ponder, exaggerating his thinking face, eyebrows drawn with a hint of a frown. “I’m gonna say eight more.”
“Eight?” Charlie guffaws, genuinely surprised. “Eight more? As in, eight not including Goose?”
Nick goes back to laughing, includes a nod.
“No,” Charlie says, not even joking. “Absolutely not. The only acceptable odd number of children is three. Otherwise, it only makes sense to have them in pairs.”
Thinking seriously for a moment, Nick concludes, “So you don’t have a problem with the fact that I said eight. You have a problem with an odd number?”
“That’s exactly what I said. Nine children?” Charlie rolls his eyes. “Nine? No. I can’t do that.”
“So what you’re really saying is that you want an even ten,” Nick figures.
Charlie kisses his husband sweetly. “Like you said. If they were all like Goose, I’d have ten in a heartbeat.” He pauses. “Well, and if money wasn’t a concern. Cause we’d need a bigger house. A bigger yard. A ridiculous amount of food and nappies and, y’know, eyes in the back of our heads.”
“Sounds good to me,” Nick says honestly, dropping kisses to Charlie’s cheek, attempting to settle closer.
“Would if we could,” Charlie agrees quietly, closing his eyes with a grin to the ceiling.