Chapter Text
Charlie taps lightly on the door with his knuckle, then Nick turns the knob and swings it open with a flourish. Simultaneously, they loudly burst into the birthday song, as Daisy whines along, rushing ahead to stick her muzzle into the side of Lucy’s cot like she needs to be the first to wish her human baby a happy second birthday. Nick and Charlie sing while crossing the room, following Daisy’s lead. Their attempts at harmonies end in short chuckles and goofy glances.
Lucy squeals joyfully, bouncing and clapping happily to the tune a bit, stretching long and lean and raising her arms in anticipation of her dads gathering at her bedside. Charlie reaches out for her just as the song ends and as he lifts her up and out of the cot, he and Nick plant matching kisses on each of her cheeks. They share one more seconds-long look with each other, like a silent agreement, and they both bury their faces in her neck, blowing raspberries and tickling. Lucy’s wild peals of laughter ring through every inch of her bedroom, echoing and spilling into the hall outside.
“Is it someone’s birthday today?” Charlie asks their daughter, once they’ve paused their attack and Lucy’s caught her breath. He pulls her close to his chest as Nick presses another kiss on her forehead.
“Yes!” Lucy answers readily.
“Whose birthday?” Nick questions, playing dumb. He ponders a second or two, scratching at his chin. “I’m not sure I remember.”
After inhaling deeply, Lucy throws her hands towards the ceiling and shouts, “Is Pincess Loosey Joosey Neeson-Spig!”
Charlie laughs, hugging her, rubbing his hand over her back. “That’s quite a big name for such a little girl, yeah? Who in the world named you?”
Lucy leans in, as if telling a secret, and dramatically whispers, “My dads!”
The dads in question both feign shock.
“You sure about that?” Nick teases, knowing he gave her the proper nickname just yesterday.
“I is Loosey Lay Neeson-Spig!” Accounting for the fact that she’s still learning pronunciation and enunciation, and how it’s actually a mouthful for her age, it’s a remarkably close attempt.
Lucy Laine Nelson-Spring. The love of her parents’ lives. Now an official two-year-old.
“Now that sounds familiar,” Charlie replies. “No offence to Princess Lucy Goosey Nelson-Spring, of course.”
While Nick gathers the supplies for a nappy change over at the table, he eggs Lucy on, smirking as he requests, “Hey Goose, why don’t you tell Dad how old you are?”
Her eyes light up, so excited to share her knowledge. Sticking her fist right near Charlie’s eyes, Lucy thinks for a moment and then unfurls two fingers with careful consideration. Once she determines that’s in fact what her papa confirmed for her yesterday, she proudly tells Charlie, “I two kid!”
Somewhere behind them, Nick snickers. He throws a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement.
“Sorry, love?” Charlie asks.
Questioning her finger calculation, Lucy pulls her hand back and counts aloud, “One … two …” She puts them back in his face, so sure this time. “Yes! Is two!”
“Yes, you are two,” Charlie says. “And that is two fingers.” He holds up two of his own, mirroring hers. “You’re so good at counting, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, let’s hope she gets your maths skills and not mine,” Nick murmurs quietly. Charlie gives him a quick look that says he shouldn’t be so hard on himself.
“Two!” Lucy repeats, giggling, nodding at her correct fingers.
“Two years, yeah?” Charlie says. “You’re two years old today.”
“I two kid!”
“You’re two quid?” Charlie glances over his shoulder at Nick, who’s still hiding a smile and suppressing chuckles as he pretends not to listen. “Well, that’s not quite the same as two years, baby. See —”
Lucy cuts her eyes to him, insisting, “I not a baby!”
“Not today, huh?” Charlie checks with her, testing. He briefly mourns the potential loss of a loving term of endearment.
“No, no, lub,” she replies softly, as if he’s having a hard time understanding how age works. “Two kid is big gurl, Daddy.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Charlie coos, smoothing her bedhead hair away from her face, “even as a big girl, you’re always gonna be our baby.”
“But I’s big gurl!” Lucy insists, scowling. But when she crosses her arms like she’s genuinely angry and stubbornly refusing Charlie’s statement, she grins wide.
Charlie strokes her cheek with a finger, “Is that a smile I see?”
She tries but fails to suppress it, then giggles, her cheeks round and pink.
“You can’t fool me,” Charlie says, raising an eyebrow. “I caught that sneaky little smile.”
“I saw it too,” Nick backs up his husband, resting his chin on Charlie’s shoulder so he can give Lucy a sneaky little smile back. “I think this big girl likes being her dads’ baby.”
Lucy giggles again. “No, no, lub!” Through her laughter, she points at Nick, attempting to distract with, “Pop a baby!”
Charlie chuckles at her comeback, joining in pointing at his husband jokingly.
“Well,” Nick sighs, then kisses Charlie on the cheek, “I’m someone’s baby.”
“Nana!” Lucy replies, positive in her answer, knowing she’s right.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Nick admits lowly, exchanging a flirty glance with Charlie before telling Lucy, “but technically correct.”
Charlie turns his head to quickly kiss Nick’s bearded cheek, whispers, “Mine too.”
“Kissy boys,” Lucy mutters, shaking her head as she erupts into laughter. The nickname she and Sarah gave to her fathers has seemingly stuck. She’s used it quite often since her last sleepover with Nana. “Kissy dads!” And like an embarrassed teenager, Lucy comically slaps her hands over her eyes.
“I have no idea what you mean,” Charlie teases.
Lucy mimics repeatedly kissing in the air between them, smacking noisily with each press of her lips.
“Oh yeah?” Charlie asks, before quickly leaning over to dip her upside down, messily peppering kisses all over her face, smacking exaggeratedly, just as she did.
And Lucy shrieks with joy as her face turns red.
———
After eating breakfast — pancakes, to no one’s surprise — Nick shoos Charlie, Lucy, and Daisy out of the kitchen so he can start work on getting all of the food prepared. The three take a leisurely morning walk then escape to Lucy’s playroom, originally labeled the “sitting room” at the front of the house. It’s a small room with a large bay window looking out onto the pavement and street. Just after Lucy learned to hold herself upright, she, Nick, and Daisy would often spend lazy afternoons on the padded window seat, watching the people and pets wandering by and waving at neighbours they knew. Twice weekly, they’d wait for the moment one of them spotted Charlie on the way to the front door first. Usually, Nick would spot his husband’s approaching figure before Lucy or Daisy, but he would purposefully pretend he didn’t, observing Lucy closely as she would break into a sweet smile and begin babbling wildly once she saw her dad, gently banging her hands on the window to get Charlie’s attention. He would act like he was surprised to see them, as if it was the last place he’d think to run into his own family, and then he’d playfully threaten to make it to the door before they could. So Nick would quickly scoop Lucy from their perch, and she would collapse against his chest in a giggling fit, and Daisy would run ahead, knowing exactly the destination, and Nick could hear Charlie’s approaching hurried footsteps, matching his, and they would arrive at the exact same time. They still do that some days, though Lucy races her fathers on her own feet now.
But today, Lucy guides her dad and Daisy to the slim loveseat, telling them as she pats the upholstery, “Sit, sit, lubs.”
“Oh, okay,” Charlie replies, but does as he’s told. Daisy joins him, circling at the opposite side of the seat before curling up, waiting for Lucy. This is what Lucy does when she wants one or both of her parents to read to her or when she wants to look at picture books.
And sure enough, in mere minutes, Lucy returns to the loveseat, two hard-covered books in her hands. She stands before Charlie’s feet, offering up the tomes, “You can big hepp?” She takes a deep breath, like the books are just too heavy. “Peas?”
“Of course I’ll help you, sweetheart,” Charlie tells her, grabbing the books and setting them to his side, then he hoists Lucy up as well. “What’re we reading this morning?”
“Is my potty,” she says, very matter of fact.
Charlie checks his watch. “Well, we have a few hours before your party starts.”
“But is my birffday.”
“That’s right, love.” Charlie pulls the books into his lap, immediately recognising both. Not books to read, but photo albums — one professionally printed and bound beautifully, and the other with a green cover, much older, more worn and amateur, put together by hand with penned captions. The family look at them both quite often, actually. Lucy loves to study the pictures and hear the stories that accompany them, learning about the two tales of love that lead to this little life of hers.
Lucy cuddles up against Charlie’s side, pressing a cheek to his rib cage, settling with a sigh, and he drapes an arm around her, leaving his other hand free to turn the pages. Opening the thicker tome, Lucy instructs, “We - we yook dis one.”
“Yours first, yeah?” Charlie confirms, smiling down at her.
She nods excitedly, though she no doubt has the images memorised by now.
Before turning the page to the first four photos, Charlie brushes Lucy’s hair from her forehead and drops a kiss to the wisps at her hairline. “Love you so much, Goose. Our birthday girl.”
“Luff you, Daddy!” she answers, snuggling closer, burying her face into the folds of his loose-fitting shirt. Then she suddenly stretches up, reaching for Charlie’s face. Lucy places a hand on each of Charlie’s cheeks, pulling him to her, and kisses the tip of his nose. This makes her giggle, so she hides her face in his shoulder until she’s able to control her laughter. She does it again, a quick kiss to her dad’s nose, and she chuckles, “My daddy.”
“My sweet Goosey-girl,” Charlie says, matching her grin, as she turns her attention to the open book. He absentmindedly plays with strands of her hair when they get to those first pictures: a baby picture from each of her parents, both adoptive and biological.
Nick and Charlie have never made it a secret that Lucy’s adopted. Even as a baby, they read her simple books about adoption and what it meant, they told her of her birth mother and what little they knew of her birth father, and with their blessing, made this photo album including them, so Lucy grows up knowing who they are and what they did for her. At this age, it’s still an abstract concept to Lucy, just pictures of people she doesn’t yet know or why, but when the time comes — when she’s ready, when she has questions — Nick and Charlie will share the appropriate information.
Like her name is Athena. She and her boyfriend at the time, Malcolm — she lovingly called him “Mal,” but it usually made her giggle slightly — were new 16-year-olds when they found out she was pregnant. Athena always knew she was meant for greater things, though, and she knew she couldn’t achieve those things being a teenaged mother. She was brilliant, so smart and determined, so sure of what she needed to do for herself and her child. She’s still all of that, Charlie supposes, even if they haven’t been in contact for about a year and a half.
After telling her parents the news and her plans of adoption, Athena went on to contact an agency about her intentions. She admitted at their first in-person meeting that she was initially drawn to Nick and Charlie’s application because Charlie reminded her of her older brother. He had passed unexpectedly in an accident a year prior to her pregnancy and she cited her deep grief in making decisions she regretted, clouding her judgement and taking risks she knew she shouldn’t have. But the pregnancy brought her back from the brink, like it woke her up to realising she needed grief counselling to get her life back on track. And she did. During her pregnancy, she focused on her schoolwork, brought her grades back up, and with the help of her mother, came to amicable agreements and established comfortable boundaries on the adoption order with Nick and Charlie after getting to know them in the months leading up to Lucy’s birth.
She included them in all of her prenatal appointments, gave them helpful information about her family’s genetic history, and invited them to meet Malcolm on two occasions, hoping he would find getting to know them as comforting as she did. But he remained quiet and withdrawn, though Nick and Charlie couldn’t tell if it was because he wasn’t interested in the arrangement or if that’s just how he was, perhaps quite naturally shy. He also agreed to the adoption order at every step, signing what he needed to in order to support Athena and her wants and needs. He might’ve been unreadable in most cases, but it was clear he loved his girlfriend dearly.
When Athena went into labour, Nick and Charlie were called to hospital and ushered into the birthing suite to be as much a part of their daughter’s birth as they could be, although they respectfully stepped outside to leave Athena with her mother when the time came to push. Immediately after, they were introduced to newborn Lucy and allowed to check in on Athena, thanking her for giving them the love of their lives, the most perfect little baby girl they could’ve asked for.
And, as was agreed in the order, Athena pumped and supplied breast milk up until Lucy was about six months old. When meeting to exchange little freezers — empty when Nick or Charlie gave them to Athena and full when she returned them — she would happily ask for updates and look at pictures and videos on phones, but she requested neither bring the baby with them. Then, at their last meeting, Athena admitted to Nick that she thought going without contact was best, even if they had all agreed to at least yearly update emails. But she was finding it too hard, too painful, too overwhelming seeing her child growing up with the life she desperately wanted for her, knowing she wasn’t able to be a part of it.
Athena gave Nick a sealed envelope with instructions to give it to Lucy only after her eighteenth birthday if she ever wanted to find her birth mother. So he brought it home with the explanation to Charlie and they immediately made a labeled file in the cabinet in Charlie’s office: For Lucy 18+. They tucked it directly behind the file with all of her adoption paperwork. Instead of annual emails to Athena, they decided on letters. The day after Lucy’s first birthday, they each wrote a page about their daughter — how well she was doing, how she’d grown, what she was like at that age, and how grateful they were. They folded the letters into an envelope with a few pictures taken over that year, sealed it, wrote the number 1 and Athena’s name on the outside, and slipped it into Lucy’s file. They’ll repeat the process tomorrow, once they recover from the party, and every birthday after until Lucy hits 18. That way, in case Lucy does forge a relationship with her mother as an adult, Athena will receive the updates she missed out on.
For now, though, Nick and Charlie celebrate the gift Athena gave them by telling Lucy about her in small ways, like including her in these early pages of her first baby book and sharing stories about how they met months before Lucy was born.
Lucy strokes at baby Nick’s face on the page and turns to Charlie with a chuckle, “Das Pop!”
“That is Papa,” Charlie confirms, nodding. “He was a pretty cute baby, yeah?”
Remembering her distraction from this morning, she squeals and claps, “Pop a baby!” Charlie laughs at her enthusiasm, so she quickly finds the baby picture of him and points. “Daddy baby!”
“Yep, back when I was a baby too,” he says. Then mock whispers, “I was a cuter baby than Papa, wasn’t I?”
Lucy giggles, her expression mischievous. “Daddy a coot baby!”
Charlie presses his index finger to his lips and shushes quietly. “Don’t tell Papa we both think so, but I’m glad it’s finally majority decided. I mean, I’ve always suspected it was true.”
“Is too!”
“That’s right. So true, babygirl.”
“Das birff movver?” Lucy’s finger lands on Athena.
“That’s right, love. Your birth mother.” Charlie kisses Lucy on the top of her head, hugging her to his chest for a moment or two. “Athena.”
“Atina,” Lucy repeats, suddenly solemn. Then she looks at her dad, grinning, “She coot baby!”
“Cuter than me?” Charlie questions incredulously, feigning shock as Lucy belly laughs. “How dare you?”
Lucy throws her head back, hanging on to Charlie’s arm to keep her from slipping off the loveseat. Through her chuckles, she parrots, “How day ya, Daddy!”
“Well,” Charlie sighs, “at least I still win as cutest baby against Papa. That’s what really matters. But …” He turns to the next page with a flourish, revealing the first photos of Lucy, artfully gathered alongside a caption of all of her newborn stats. “Nobody was cute as you!”
As if she didn’t know her images were to follow, Lucy gasps, “Das Loosey!”
“It’s little Lucy Laine!”
“Is Joosey?”
“Yep, that’s little Goosey.” Charlie settles his arm around her again, holding her close, as she snuggles into him, leaning down to see the details of each picture. He explains softly, “Lucy and Goose, one in the same. Papa and Daddy’s little baby.”
“I not a baby,” she reminds him, but it’s not as fervent as before. Like she actually doesn’t mind the pet name, even though she’s convinced she’s grown.
“See, but it’s fair that I called you a baby,” Charlie insists, pointing to her newborn photo, a tiny pink human just delivered. “Cause you’re a very literal baby in this picture. Like, two minutes old.”
“I’s two mints!”
Charlie chuckles, muttering to himself, “Better than two quid, I guess.”
Lucy erupts into hysterical laughter, as if Charlie’s the funniest person she’s ever come across in her mere two years on Earth, as if she understands his comeback. “My fun Daddy!”
“I’m glad you think so,” he tells her, smiling fondly at her giggles. “And I agree. Cuter and funnier than Papa, huh?”
Just as Charlie names him aloud, Nick’s voice travels closer, gaining ground, and his footsteps fall near the door.
“Just a sec,” he murmurs.
Both Charlie and Lucy look as Nick rounds the door frame, peeking his head inside, tablet in his hand.
Tilting the tablet towards them, Nick says, “Someone’s calling for a birthday girl. Is there one of those in here?”
And there, on the screen, is Tori, rolling her eyes at Nick’s teasing. She’s sitting in front of a big window, a cloudy backdrop amongst blooming greenery outside, and there’s a steaming mug in her hands.
“Is me!” Lucy shouts, holding her hands out to the tablet, making grabby hands.
“Let’s let Dad hold it, baby,” Nick tells her, dipping over the back of the seat to hand it to Charlie. “That way Auntie Tori can see you properly.”
Lucy has a habit of crowding the lens, unaware that the other person’s seeing blurry close-ups of her features. The previous visit had a primary focus directly up her nostrils.
“Hi, Tori!” Charlie greets happily, centering the crowded family of three as best he can in Tori’s view.
“Annie Cori!” Lucy shrieks, waving wildly with both hands. “Is my birffday!”
“Happy birthday, sweet girl,” Tori says, waving back and blowing a kiss.
As if on planned cue, Nick drops a kiss to Charlie’s temple, then does the same to Lucy’s forehead as she turns her face to him.
“Good to see you, Tori,” he says, “but I gotta get back to my icing before it separates.”
Before he can leave, Lucy reaches for him, calling, “Pop!”
Nick pauses and picks her up, keeping his arms around her as he plops her on the back of the loveseat in front of him. “Yes, my love?”
“Daddy a coot baby!” she says, hiding her wide grin behind her hands, knowing she spilled a secret. She’s incredibly bad at keeping secrets at this age. Charlie almost wishes she’d stay that way.
Nick’s eyes rapidly flick from Lucy to the baby book in Charlie’s lap and back and figures exactly what happened, “Oh, Dad was the cutest baby, huh? Did he tell you that?”
“Is too!”
“Sure, it’s true,” Nick agrees. “I’ll give him that. But I get cuter with age.” In one swift motion, he gives Lucy a final hug and another kiss on her cheek, then drops her back at Charlie’s side on the seat. He leans close to Charlie’s ear and breathes, “Tell me that’s not true.”
Charlie ponders, admits, “Alright. You win.”
Nick quickly pecks a kiss to Charlie’s neck and raises his fists in the air, whooping loudly at his husband’s defeat, before he jogs out of the door and presumably returns to the kitchen.
Charlie rolls his eyes and looks to Tori, realising she’s alone. “Where’s Michael?”
“Oh, he’ll be back in a minute. He has a new routine since we adopted.”
“That’s right!” Charlie gasps excitedly. “How’s that new baby?”
“Is baby Beeks?” Lucy asks, her face lighting up at the thought of meeting the kitten she’s only seen on the announcement postcard. “Where Beeks?”
“Binx is with Michael,” Tori explains. “They should be home any second.” She smiles at Lucy. “I hear there’s a party today, though. What kind of party are you having?”
“I has a - a …” Lucy thinks for a moment, twisting a strand of hair around her little fingers. “Is a shraw-bear pinnik pincess poo-potty.”
Tori nods as if she understood. “Oh, that sounds like fun.”
Charlie giggles at Tori’s expression, seemingly only catching the “poo-potty” part of Lucy’s statement, if her wide eyes are any indication. Sure, the toddler’s comment made perfect sense to him, but he forgets those who aren’t around her daily might not quite get what she’s trying to say. Maybe he finds it funnier if he doesn’t clarify.
“What are you most looking forward to, love?” Tori asks, still clearly baffled.
“I can -” Lucy shrugs animatedly, then gets closer to the tablet, proudly revealing, “I has cake!”
“Of course,” Tori agrees. “Cake’s the best bit of any party. Is Papa making it for you?”
Lucy nods gleefully, “Yittle cakes!”
“Oh, he’s making cupcakes?”
“Yes!” Lucy answers. “Cuck-cakes.”
“Well, that sounds inappropriate for a kid’s party,” Charlie quips, suppressing the urge to continue his train of thought.
“That sounds yummy.” Tori purposefully ignores Charlie, but her grin lets him know she heard him and found it amusing. “Be sure —”
Off-screen, the sound of a door opening and a bit of a kerfuffle, a groan and footsteps, then the jingle of bells. Tori smiles shyly, patting her lap. “Look who’s here,” she says, just before a small, fuzzy black kitten jumps into her lap.
Lucy leans forward, grabbing the edges of the tablet to pull it close so she can see the kitten properly, and she lets out a hushed yelp of joy, already in unconditional love. “Beeks!”
Daisy lifts her head in curiosity at the sound, eyeing the furball for a brief moment of time before lightly nodding off again.
The kitten walks circles on Tori’s thighs, then curls into a tight ball, his purring heard in low vibrations through the device. “Sorry, he’s a bit worn out right now.”
“Is that …” Charlie starts, angling the tablet towards him slightly, squinting. “Is he wearing a harness?” He blinks. “And a lead?”
“Um, yes,” Tori replies. She quickly unhooks the red ribbon of fabric from around his chest, freeing him, as the metal fixtures of the harness and lead thud to the floor below. “That’s the routine —”
“Is that Charles I hear?” Michael asks, as he drops abruptly into frame. He spots Lucy beside her dad. “And Lucy? Lucille, if I may.” He knows it’s not her given name, but he can’t resist a familial pattern.
But it’s too late to get her opinion on the suggestion, something Michael’s floated since she was born, though never to her directly until now. Lucy’s already rolling in a giggle fit, repeating her dad’s name like it’s the best joke she’s ever heard in her mere two years on Earth, “Charrs!”
“Yes, Charles and Lucille,” Michael says, nodding, apparently deciding to continue with the use of the extended version of Lucy’s name. “Where’s husband and father Nicholas?”
Laughing even harder, clutching at her sides, breathless, Lucy gasps, “Mick-las!”
“Did Nicholas change his name?” Michael questions, seemingly seriously. “Cause I labelled the birthday package incorrectly then.”
“Oh, a birthday package?” Charlie asks, chuckling, distractedly watching Lucy’s dramatic display. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, you know me,” Michael replies. “Sometimes I just find what someone needs. You still have your cat, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Charlie answers, though he can’t immediately recall its precise whereabouts. They moved it to higher ground when Lucy became mobile, he knows that much.
“Same as this —” Michael hesitates, thinking of the surprise element of a birthday gift. “Lucy’s present. It seemed appropriate for her. Felt right.”
“Is it also a cat?” Charlie asks with a hint of sarcasm, arching at eyebrow suspiciously.
“Not everyone gets a cat, Charles,” Michael explains with a huff, as if it’s obvious and Charlie’s a bit thick for assuming so.
Charlie nods, exchanging a knowing glance with Tori, and they shrug in time. “Hey, Goose,” he says to his daughter as she’s starting to calm, but still breathing heavily. She rolls to rest in his lap, head on her hands. “What do we tell Michael and Auntie Tori? They got you a birthday present.”
“Tank you!”
“It’s actually two presents,” Tori tells them. “One from me, one from Michael. But in the same package.”
Lucy breaks into a gigantic grin, clearly happy at an extra gift. “Tank you, Annie Cori!”
“You’re welcome, love,” Tori replies. “Sorry, I guess we shipped it a little late for the party. But it should be there soon.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Charlie feels little fingertips on his arms, tracing his tattoos, as Lucy often does when they cuddle. “Just sorry you couldn’t make it to the party.”
“Me too,” Tori agrees. “But, we’ll definitely visit for Christmas.”
Charlie misses being close to his beloved sister, the lack of her physical presence like a tiny yet irreparable hole in his heart. It was quite a surprise when she announced three years ago that she was relocating to Scotland with Michael. He got an offer to work with the Speed Skating Club of Edinburgh, some of whose alumni have gone on to represent their country in the Olympic games. Tori builds, updates, and maintains websites for a multitude of large businesses and corporations and could continue her lucrative career from anywhere in the UK, so she was free to follow Michael’s calling. They seem contentedly settled there. If any asexual and pansexual can make their unique situation work, it’s them. The two never married, never really classified themselves that kind of couple, never called each other anything more than friends, but they’ve lived together — in separate bedrooms and bathrooms — the majority of their adulthood now. Sometimes nosy friends or family press Charlie for more details, assuming there’s something more to tell because, well, there usually is when a man and a woman cohabitate for years. As far as Charlie can figure, though, living with Michael is a comfort for Tori, and vice versa. And if doing so helps two otherwise wayward souls navigate their way in this world, then that can only be considered a good thing. He likes to infuriate nosy individuals by referring to Michael and Tori as “roommates” without elaboration.
“And lots of virtual visits until then,” Charlie reminds her. He looks to Lucy, “We have to keep up with Binx, yeah? So he knows who we are when he comes to see us?”
“I pet Beeks?” Lucy asks hopefully, perking up.
Charlie smooths a hand over her hair, assuring her, “You can probably pet him when they visit at Christmas. As long as he’s okay with that.”
“Oh, he loves pets,” Tori says with a smile. She demonstrates, running a hand over his back. He stretches under her touch, gives an exaggerated yawn, and tucks into an even tighter ball.
“I’m sure he’ll love your soft pets, sweetheart,” Charlie tells Lucy, as they remind her with most new animals she comes across. “Like how we pet Dais.”
“Soff, soff, lub,” Lucy coos, just like how she’s been told repeatedly since she was a baby.
“And we just found out he loves dogs,” Tori says with visible relief. “So I bet he and Daisy will be good friends.”
“Where’d he meet a dog?” Charlie asks, confused. He could’ve sworn she told him dogs weren’t allowed in their flats. He was even surprised at the news of a cat being acceptable.
“Michael’s been taking him on walks,” Tori answers. “Hence the harness.”
“Walks?” Charlie chuckles, not entirely convinced she’s telling the truth. “Like a dog?”
“Outside play is very healthy for cats, Charles,” Michael interjects. “However, not very healthy for the bird population, since cats are elite predators. So supervision outdoors is the best for all involved.”
“Ah,” Charlie nods. “I see. Who knew?”
“Plus, it takes care of a lot of his wild kitten energy,” Tori replies. “He’s still learning not to bite everything. Including us.”
“Oh no!” Lucy cries out, apparently devastated at this news. She wiggles her finger at the tablet, directing it at the sleeping kitten. “No bite, Beeks!”
“That’s right, Goose,” Charlie agrees, kissing Lucy’s hair as sweet confirmation that she’s correct. He adds for the kitten’s benefit, “We don’t bite, Binx.”
He’s grateful Lucy’s biting phase only lasted a week or two before she decided she didn’t like getting into trouble over it. She’s very sensitive about a stern talking to from either father — and gets especially upset when both Nick and Charlie have to sit her down for a reprimand, which is exceedingly rare thus far, thankfully. Last time they caught her trying to bite a fellow kid on the playground, they packed it up and went home despite her protests and promises to not do it again, then they had as serious a chat as possible with a toddler about negative actions and consequences. She sobbed through it, her feelings very clearly hurt when her dads expressed their disappointment, which of course broke Nick and Charlie’s hearts. Charlie had to blink back tears while Nick had to inconspicuously wipe his off his reddening cheeks. As parents, the couple try to reinforce positive behaviour first and take a gentle approach when correcting their daughter, because none of the three like to escalate the situation unless necessary. But Lucy’s overall been a good girl. Charlie wishes she’d stay that way too, already dreading the teenage years. They feel terrifyingly closer each day.
There’s a bit more talk with Tori and Michael before a video chat interruption by Tao and Elle. They’re not currently in the country, so unable to attend the party, but want to wish Lucy a happy birthday regardless. Unlike Tori and Michael, they sent Lucy’s birthday gift weeks ago. It’s covered in pink donut wrapping paper with a giant gold bow and hidden in Charlie’s office’s closet, where he was positive Lucy wouldn’t find it. It’ll be added to the present pile once guests arrive, so she can open it with the rest. For now, though, Tao and Elle’s happy faces smile back at Charlie and Lucy from the tablet screen, a good 5000+ miles between them.
Tao’s filming a documentary about, well, film. Which is why they’re in Los Angeles, meaning it’s the middle of the night for them. Their lives couldn’t be more different than Nick and Charlie’s. Always travelling, never a set schedule or routine, rarely normal working hours, but it’s the way they thrive best and they wouldn’t have it any other way. After a few years of various behind the scenes jobs under acclaimed directors, Tao made two successful films of his own, his first regarding local queer London artists — featuring Elle, obviously, when they were both primarily located there, overlapping the years Nick and Charlie called it home — and the second about climate change impacts across Europe. The movie went to several big-name film festivals, won several awards, and even had a star-studded red carpet Hollywood premiere, touted as an important work with a deep message by numerous celebrities in attendance. And thus, the world of Hollywood opened to Tao by association, allowing him to deep-dive into his original passion — obsession, perhaps — of film.
Elle doesn’t always travel to the same place at the same time as her partner, but they’ve both been in California for months now. She has her own agenda as an artist, influencer, and advocate. Right now, she has a small exhibit of paintings at well-known gallery The Broad, alongside impressive installations by the likes of huge names, such as Basquiat and Warhol. A number of her works are also on ongoing, rotating displays in a few private galleries across Los Angeles, where just one sells for thousands of dollars. Elle documents her process, progress, and public persona on synced social medias, so her millions of followers can watch live as she creates her art or share videos of her getting ready for premieres like Tao’s or see pictures of her arriving at events like the GLAAD Media Awards.
The couple were off-and-on for years during and after uni. It was like they couldn’t quite figure out how to be together, but couldn’t quite let each other go. Charlie took their first breakup hard, knowing how much they truly did love each other, worrying he and Nick would go the same way, but every subsequent break always felt like just a bump in an otherwise smooth road. Sometimes they needed space, sometimes they needed to lose themselves in their own projects, separate and apart from each other, and more often than not, they found they wanted to make their relationship work. And for the past five years or so, they’ve been in a solid, very much “on” relationship, even if they’re apart for work, commitments, grueling filming schedules, or anything else that may come up in their busy lives. If they’re apart for days or weeks, once even three months — Charlie’s not sure how they managed, as he hasn’t physically been apart from Nick that long since their uni days — Tao and Elle happily pick back up right where they left off. Together.
“Happy birthday! Oh my goodness, babygirl!” Elle fawns over Lucy. “You’re growing too fast!”
It’s only been a few weeks since their last video chat. The adults keep in more regular contact through group text.
“I two!” Lucy tells her proudly, two fingers aloft.
“And getting smarter by the day,” Elle adds, impressed. “Are you ready for your party? Seems like your dads are quite the party planners these days.”
Charlie’s been updating the group chat about his party finds and Nick’s been sharing recipes.
“Yes!” Lucy answers, as if she knows all about what Nick and Charlie have been up to in order to give her this birthday to remember. “My potty!”
“I wish we could be there, Goose,” Elle says, frowning. “But you’ll have enough fun for the both of us, yeah?”
Lucy claps. “Yes!”
“Where’s the ol’ ball and chain?” Tao asks, surveying just two bodies on the loveseat and a pile of golden fur.
“He’s in the kitchen,” Charlie replies.
Lucy catches on to who Tao’s referring to, knowing her papa’s next door, explaining, “Pop cook - cook the cuck-cakes!”
Tao’s eyebrows raise nearer his hairline. “Charlie, is there something you’ve yet to tell us about your marriage?”
“Cupcakes, Tao,” Charlie deadpans, as Elle gives her partner a playful smack on the shoulder.
“Forgive me for trying to add some spice for you,” Tao mutters, a mischievous grin on his lips.
“Charlie would never,” Elle says, rolling her eyes. “Nick would never.”
“Not a discussion,” Charlie chides, attempting to hide his amusement. He motions to Lucy, reminding them, “Kid very much present.”
“Gifting a little parental trauma for the birthday,” Tao jokes. Lifting his hands like a surrender, he addresses Lucy sincerely, “Happy birthday, Goose.”
“Tanks!” Lucy responds, back to tracing the black and gray designs along Charlie’s arms. But she tilts her head toward the door when the sounds of footfall get louder.
She, Charlie, and Daisy all turn to the doorway just in time to see Nick arrive with a small plate in his hand. On it, half an iced cupcake, divided into two pieces. The yellow curd oozes from the inside, the cake uneven shades of pink with tiny bits of fresh strawberry, with the baby pink icing slathered haphazardly.
“Thought you two might want a taste,” he says, handing Charlie the plate with a kiss to his cheek. Then he sets a few pieces of diced strawberry in front of Daisy’s nose. She licks it all up in one swallow. “Just got done decorating. Figured I could spare one.”
“Smells amazing,” Charlie tells his husband, as he lets Lucy grab her bite-sized portion first.
“Is shraw-bear!” she recognises immediately, gleeful at the flavours.
“What’s a party without strawberries, baby?” Nick asks Lucy, wiping a spot of icing from the corner of her mouth. She giggles.
While Charlie chews, Elle sounds from the tablet, “How’s catering going, Nicholas?”
“Mick-las!” Not that Lucy hasn’t ever heard others call her dads by their full names, but she’s finding it incredibly entertaining today. And her reaction gets everyone else chuckling too.
“She’s gonna use that against me one day, isn’t she?” Nick questions, eyeing Tao and Elle, then Charlie.
“Oh, most definitely,” Tao agrees a little too quickly.
After several more minutes of banter between the adults, with plenty of input from Lucy, Nick returns to his remaining tasks in the kitchen. The chat continues long enough for Tao and Elle to tell Charlie the details of their upcoming ventures for the following week and for Lucy to inform them about meeting Binx over video earlier this morning, though she makes it sound a lot more exciting than the fact that he slept the majority of the time. And soon enough, they’re saying their goodbyes, so Tao and Elle can get some sleep and Charlie and Lucy can get back to the selected photo albums.
But with just under two hours until the party starts, the doorbell sounds.
“Char, can you get that, sweetheart?” Nick shouts from the kitchen.
“On it!” Charlie answers. He knows who it is, as does Nick, but he looks to Lucy and asks, “Who is that?”
Lucy glances at the bay window, usually able to see guests on their way to the door, but Charlie didn’t open the curtain this morning, preferring to keep Lucy guessing. She shrugs at her dad, whispers, “Dunno.”
“Well, let’s go find out,” Charlie encourages, helping her from the cushions so she can speed walk to the hall with Daisy at her heels. “Gotta wait for me, love.”
“Who it?” Lucy calls at the front door, too short to see three familiar faces in the window higher up. Daisy stays at attention at her little human’s side, ready for the answer.
Charlie joins his girls in time to hear his father answer, muffled by the door, “We’re here for the birthday girl!”
“It’s for you!” Charlie tells his daughter, wide-eyed, like he’s surprised too. Waving his hand at the window, Charlie suggests, “Wanna see who’s there?”
Before Charlie even finishes the question, Lucy’s got her arms up and ready to be lifted into his embrace. She jumps a bit as if to help, excited, and when Charlie gets her close to the window, she squeals happily, clapping in little bursts at the sight of her grandparents crowding the frame. Daisy barks, celebrating with Lucy, as she spins in circles. It’s not just Grandma and Grandpa — as she knows Charlie’s parents — but Nana too, as they all drove over together. It took a few years, but after their sons survived uni as an intact couple, Julio, Jane, and Sarah grew closer as friends, family, acknowledging that this relationship was seemingly for the long-haul, that it was only a matter of time before they became official in-laws, so they accepted each other as such.
Jane would be the first to admit it was easier to do once Charlie’s school years were behind him, as well as the brief low period that followed — and for the second time, she watched Nick lovingly support her son in every way he knew how — and once she and Julio had an empty nest. She knew her relationship with her children was strained, still damaged from the way they inevitably clashed when all living under the same roof. But time and distance gave her the clarity needed to seek her own help, to confront the trauma of her own childhood in therapy, and to mend what was broken. Charlie’s little family is still closer to Sarah than to his parents, maybe, but they have healthier interactions when they do see each other, and Lucy gets the benefit of two more grandparents who love her unconditionally.
The three faces in the window are all pulling silly expressions, resulting in Lucy going limp with laughter as Charlie holds her tightly to his chest and opens the door at the same time. A bit of a juggling act, but he does it all with a grateful smile on his face, allowing Julio, Jane, and Sarah to file inside before closing the door behind them.
When the grandparents agreed to come early to “help” with party prep, both Nick and Charlie were well aware it was code for Jane and Sarah to get prime Lucy time whilst the boys actually put the party together. But with a two-year-old, help is help and they welcome their mums to keep their daughter happily engaged and entertained in the playroom — so the decorations are a surprise until right before the guests show up — as Julio bounces between the kitchen, the living room, and the backyard as Nick and Charlie call him to and fro to act as an extra set of hands where needed. When the food’s done and arranged on platters on the table and the drinks are on display, Nick joins the decorations detail, just as Julio and Charlie begin laying final touches.