Page 41 of Last Call

“Well”—I clap my hands together—“baby steps. I know yer gonna be the best dad. Kiki’s boys adore ye, and so do Lex’s kids. Yer always up for a fun time.”

“His eye fell out yesterday when I turned him over.” TJ grimaces, smoothing a finger over the Band-Aid holding the eyeball in place.

I reach into my back pocket and hold out a baby-blue sequined eyepatch. “Which is why I picked up this little gem on the way home today.”

“Oh my god, I love it!” Squealing, he puts the eyepatch over Benji’s eye. “Where did you get a bedazzled eyepatch?”

“Surprisingly, there’s a weird fetish for pirates at the Leather and Lace store over off Broadway.”

“Oh Benjamin Blueberry, did you see what Daddy got you? I guess it’s hard to see with one eye. He got you an eyepatch from an adult sex store. He’s the best dad in the entire world.” TJ sobs, tossing Benji to the side and covering his face with his hands.

I freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. I think I’ve seen TJ cry once in the five years we’ve been married. Husbandly instincts kicking in, I slide from my chair over to the couch next to him and put my arm around him. He turns into my chest, grabs my shirt, and unleashes a torrent of tears. I stroke his back and murmur soothing Gaelic terms of endearment until he quiets. “Tell me what’s wrong,moi chroí.”

TJ leans back and wipes his face. He blows his nose with Benji’s onesie that was lying on the coffee table. “You’re such a loving, caring, and responsible dad, and I’m a pathetic loser.”

“Love, that’s not true—”

“No, it is true, and you know it. How am I going to be a dad if I can’t even keep Benji together in one piece?”

I’m silent for a moment as I gather my thoughts. “Being a good da doesn’t always mean yer on top of everything. A good parent is loving, which ye are. A good parent wants their child to succeed. And if they fail, they’re gonna help them pick up the pieces and keep going. Ye may not be the most…in-control da, but yer gonna be the fiercest cheerleader our child can count on. TJ, you are the heart and soul of this marriage and I expect ye to be the same as a parent. So what if our kid has to wear an eyepatch and duct tape. It gives him character.”

TJ blows his nose again. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“If I’m the heart and soul, what does that make you?”

“Me?” I smile. “I make sure all the moving parts stay together.”

“No, you’re the duct tape that keeps us together. I’m so lucky to have you, babe.” TJ kisses my lips.

“I’m the lucky chancer in this bit, Love. I don’t care if our kid has nontraditional parents. As long as he or she is a happy baby, then I’m good.”

TJ smiles and wipes his cheeks with his hands. “I’m good, too. I’m sorry I broke down. Benjamin Blueberry made me lose my shit.”

“I’ve heard kids can do that to ye.” I smile and rub his back.

“Do you think we’ll love our baby unconditionally?”

“What do ye mean?” I ask.

“I’m worried because I don’t feel any kind of connection with Benji Blue. At first, it was fun buying him clothes and stuff, but now when I look at him, I feel…nothing. Well, that’s not true. He makes me irritable, which makes me feel bad, and then I want to cry because I have like zero connection with this voodoo Chucky doll. My point is, I’m more in love with Bartie the cat than Benji Blue. What if this happens when we get the real baby?”

“Babe, it’s a doll. I’d be worried if ye did feel a connection with him.” I pick Benji off the couch and hold him up in front of us. His blue eyepatch catches the light, looking like a mini disco ball over his eye. He’s wearing more duct tape than clothes, and the marker scribbled all over his arms gives him a worn appearance. There are tire marks from when he fell off the car yesterday. My mom would have heart palpitations if she saw this damn doll.

I can’t help the deep rumble in my chest from bubbling to the surface. My shoulders shake, mirth consuming me. Moisture glazes my corneas and when I turn to look at TJ, whose brows are pinched together in concern, I laugh harder.

“You’ve made a right bags of this shite, to be sure. This doll is fucking banjaxed.”

“Oh, come on. Is he that bad?” As if on cue, Benji emits a quivering cry that sounds like he’s underwater or his batteries are on the brink of dying. “That can’t be good.”

We both laugh until we can’t breathe. I set Benji on a blanket and turn to TJ. “I promise we can do this, Love. Our baby will not end up like poor Benji Blue.”

“I know you said you wanted to go the adoption route first, but it could be years until we get a baby,” TJ reminds me. “Would you consider talking to some surrogates after the holidays?”

I take a deep breath. “Are ye sure that’s the path we should take?”

He nods enthusiastically. “We need to get the ball rolling.”

---