Date: Wed, 7 Nov 2018 16:08:59 +0000 (UTC) From: John Gerald Subject: Mickey 26 "My mom wasn't very happy about this, but I'm going to be the one raising them, not her," she said to Mickey's mom. Ellen Deringer was just one year younger than Mickey, but because of their fathers' estrangement, which was mostly fallout from slights by Mickey's father, they barely knew each other. And since the death of Mickey's Dad, there had been only fleeting contact such as Christmas cards with Mrs. Deringer, and even that trailed off after a few years. Sitting back in the lounge chair of her tiny studio apartment she still had youth on her side, looking fit and trim in spite of the occasional bouts of morning sickness. The spartan apartment seemed to reinforce the sense of youth, especially when it meant `starting out with nothing'. Though her side of the Deringer family was rather affluent, at least compared to Mickey's branch, it didn't look like she was in line to inherit those circumstances. Her apartment was in a classic two-story 1950s apartment building. Parking was on the lower level and the cramped one-bedroom units on the second level. Her window was not more than 20' from a noisy freeway on-ramp. The cheap aluminum windows, original to the building, weren't much of a barrier to the sound, not to mention the weather. Mrs. Deringer had sometimes to strain to hear over the constant rumble. "I'm glad that you called. I often wondered how things went for Mickey, and thought that I might reach out sometime," she said, reaching for a plate of cheese and crackers to offer Mickey's mom. "But he made it so easy. I just had to open the newspaper and there he was," she said, smiling as she placed the plate in front of her guest. "Thank you," Mrs. Deringer replied as she took three small cubes of cheese, laying them delicately on an a colored napkin before placing the snacks on the wobbly coffee table that was between them. "You can't say that he tried to keep his relationship a secret," she continued as they both laughed. After she put back the serving plate, Ellen's face quickly lost the smile. "But how is he really doing," she asked. "I mean, I know the basic situation, but how is he handling all this, the circus, the notoriety, all that stuff?" But before the reply came, she quickly added, "and that Patterson guy, he looks like Prince Charming. But is he?" Mrs. Deringer wiped her lips with the napkin. "I don't think that Mickey could be any happier, and yes, Drew really is Prince Charming. At least to Mickey," she replied. "And to me, too." "I've been really lucky with both Mickey and Nate. They've both found wonderful partners and I don't feel like I have to worry about either of them." "Oh, yeah, I want to catch up with Nate, too. But let's do Mickey first and work our way down by age." "OK, fine with me," Mrs. Deringer replied, smiling. But before she could continue, Ellen interjected. "That Patterson boy. I'm glad he treats Mickey well, I really am. But wow, what a hunk, too! You know what I'm saying?" Ellen said. "Um...yes, he is...an attractive guy..." she replied, stumbling with the words as Ellen watched her aunt blush furiously. They chatted amiably for a few more minutes, catching each other up on the past few years. Ellen had a fling with graduate student that cooled down as quickly as it had heated up. Her parents were appalled at the results, especially, to rub salt in the wound, it was going to be twins. She was supposed to to `do what she had to do' or give them away. But in thinking through where she was and what she wanted her life to be, it seemed like raising the kids was the path she should take, partner or no partner. "He was quite a hunk himself, kind of big, blond lug like Drew Patterson," she said, chuckling to herself. "Really a sweet boy, definitely marriage material for someone, just not me." "Do you have names picked out?" Mrs. Patterson asked, not wanting to pry too much into the history, though Ellen didn't seem at all defensive. "Not yet, but I've been musing on it a lot. I know that I don't want the names to rhyme, or be jokey, or alliterations. I want them to be individuals. "she said, stroking her still flat stomach. "No `Tammy and Tony,' especially since it's a boy and girl." Laying back in the chair, she rested her head against a worn spot at the top of the padding. "I have a bachelors in English Literature, which makes me highly marketable,' she said with a strong whiff of sarcasm. "But I can make ends meet and I like to think that I'm pretty resourceful. So I believe, and hope, that this little family will be OK. Whatever the names are." It was definitely not the methodically planned-out life that Mickey and Drew were organizing for themselves. But both the guys and Ellen seemed happy with their choices. It made Mrs. Deringer think to herself about how these young people might teach her something about her own life, too. In any case, it was time to get to the point of the trip. "Ellen, I know this visit is way overdue, I should have made an effort a long time ago." "Oh, no worries, Aunt Clare. I was just as much my responsibility, actually more. After all, Mickey and I are basically the same age. And you all went through a lot. But, you know, my parents, especially my dad and Uncle Stu, they had a lot of, um...baggage. So thanks for being the one to reach out first," she replied. `I'm really glad that you did." Mrs. Deringer nodded her head. At least Step One went OK. "I have something that I wanted to ask you about, Ellen. It's kind of personal, and it's just a question from me, not from Mickey and Drew." "What would that be?" Ellen asked, relaxing farther into the chair, her interest clearly piqued as she looked directly at her visitor. Now that the time had come, Mrs. Deringer hardly knew where to start. Looking out the window, then reaching down for her purse, she wondered what she was actually doing there. But there she was, the question was asked. And she had to answer. "Well, I hope you understand this, being an expectant mom and all. You know, Mickey and Drew want to be parents, too. But being guys, they need help in doing this" "I think that, they might, well,...' she stuttered, looking for the right words and was already regretting her decision to come here to ask such a personal and private question. Reaching over and tapping here hand, Ellen said, "I think I know what you're going to ask." "You do?" she replied, sighing. "Well, I'm sorry for broaching this. It's really not my business, I just thought...," she said, rubbing her hands together and looking beyond Ellen to a wall-mounted art poster behind her. "Not at all, Aunt Clare. It's not out of line or weird, at least to me. I had a girlfriend who donated eggs to an infertile couple in college, though she did it for money. That was a bit mercenary for a motive, I thought, but the whole act of doing it seemed alright to me. And actually, rather practical for some situations,' she replied. "But, I ...ummm...honestly, I had never thought much about it at the time. But I did talk to her about it a lot afterward." "I know, I didn't expect that you would. It's not how most people do it." Both of them were silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the speeding traffic on the nearby highway. "I guess I would have to donate eggs in a laboratory, huh? Ellen asked, a slight smirk on her face. I wouldn't get to..." Mrs. Deringer turned red. "Um...I can't speak for them on that, or I guess anything else," she said, remembering her regret for even getting started on the whole issue without talking to the guys. "But I'm not sure it's likely." Ellen laughed, almost under her breath. "I wouldn't ask him to do that, of course, but I must say, he is my type. Like I said, the father even looked a bit like Patterson, but he was a Division 1 swimmer rather than a quarterback. And built like a bricksh..." she was about to continue but seemed to catch herself. "These hunky jocks are really my weakness, I've got to watch that," she continued as they both laughed. "Well, getting back to the subject hand," she continued, "Let me think about it, but my initial reaction is, `why not?' " That baby would have a great home, and maybe even be friends with these two, "she said, pointing to her stomach. "And if nothing else, they'd be second cousins." *** "I don't think we can stuff anything more into to this thing," Drew declared as he squeezed a glass into the corner of the upper rack of the dishwasher. "At least we'll get our money's worth from this load." As he lifted the door, he stared at the row of blue buttons, giving him all the choices in the world to clean pots or pans or a small load or large one or express or heavy. The combinations were almost endless. But he always pushed `normal' and `start and shut the door. Mrs Deringer awaited all day for that final closure. "Guys before you go back to doing what you planned on this evening, could I ask you, or...um...mention something to you. After cleaning up, Mickey often worked for an hour or so on some project he had brought home, while Drew would do the same for tasks around the house. He was currently installing reading lights on either side of their bed. Her unusual request startled both of them. Mickey put down the towel he had used to wipe off the table. "Is something wrong?" he asked, turning toward her. Drew was picking up Charlie's bowl but also stopped and looked at her. "No, no...I'm OK. There's nothing wrong. There's just something that... I did, well, I'm not sure that it was my business, but I did something that I was hoping would help you guys. But maybe I shouldn't have done it." "There's nothing you would do that would ever concern us at all, Mom. So what are you talking about. You seem...nervous" "Maybe we should all sit down in the living room," she suggested, pushing out her usual chair at the dinner table. *** "She's not even sure that she could or would do it, and it would have to wait until she delivered her kids, of course, but I wanted to at least ask the question. I don't have any doubt that Drew would want to be a Dad, too, so I thought that I'd at least open up that option. Or try to," she said looking down at the coffee table., where could see her anxious face faintly reflected in the glass top. For a moment, you could just hear the gentle whirr of the dishwasher from the next room. "That's really nice of you to think of that, Mom." Drew replied quietly, addressing her with the title that he had gradually started using after she had moved in with them. "But, to be honest, I've never thought that I had to be a biological Dad. We even thought about adopting. I think the parent part is most important, however it happens." "But it's nice to have the option, I think I can say that we both appreciate it," Mickey said, as Drew nodded his head in agreement. "I wasn't being too pushy, was I?" she replied. Mickey bent over from the other side of the couch and kissed her on the cheek. "No, mom, you weren't." She gave back a weak smile. "I haven't seen her in years. If nothing else, it would be good to get back in contact. I don't want her to think that we need her for...breeding," Mickey said, hesitating at being so blunt. "But I always thought she was nice. And since we plan on having kids soon, well, maybe they could grow up with cousins. That could be kind of cool," he said, especially since he didn't really grow up himself with much family contact beyond his brother and mom. "To be honest, I really think that she would like that, too. She's getting kind of distant from her parents because of this so I would think that she'd be interested in getting back some of her other family," Mrs. Deringer replied. Her chest was no longer tight and breathing seemed to be getting a bit easier. Mickey put his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you could lead us on an expedition over there, or we could invite her to our little palace here." "Yeah, let's do that," Drew said. "It sounds like she's in a small place, maybe she'd like to go on a field trip herself." "OK, I'll ask her," she replied. "She can only say `no.'" *** "This place is big, Mickey. How many kids do you want to have," Ellen said as she came in through the front foyer. The wide stair with carved balustrade, waiting for a carpet runner in the next remodel stage, gave a grand impression, Mickey gulped. Where his mom could never be so direct, Ellen appeared to have far fewer boundaries. He seemed to remember that as a Deringer trait that he hopefully didn't inherit. "That's the plan," Mickey replied, trying to take the comment in stride. "it's good to see you. It's been like, 10 years, yes?" he asked. "At least," she replied. "Sorry about all that time, I was telling your Mom, I should have said something or come over, but you, know..." "No worries," Mickey replied. "Lots of history there with our dads. I could have taken the initiative, too. But in any case, here we are. It's good that... He was about to mention his mom, but then Drew emerged from the nearby dining room, followed closely behind by Charlie who quickly cut in front of him "Excuse me, I meant to greet you along with Mickey, but we had a little canine emergency." "Well, it doesn't look like it was an emergency for him," Ellen replied as she stooped down and started to pet Charlie, who was panting like he had just run a dog marathon. She gently grabbed both ears, rubbing them with her fingers as the pooch twisted and turned in ecstasy. "He's our first one, this Charlie guy. The ersatz, trial-baby step before the real thing," Drew said as stood behind the squirming pooch. `By the way, I'm..." "Drew!" she shot back, completing his sentence. "I must say, I've been looking forward to meeting you. You're taller than you look in the newspapers." Drew chuckled, "I think that everyone is either taller or shorter, but they're never what you expect," he replied as they all laughed. Mickey suggested that Drew would lead the grand tour. "This place was a wreck before he got to it. We still have some work to do but it looks so great now. He's done a fantastic job!" he proclaimed. "Don't raise the bar too high, babe," Drew replied, giving him a furtive wink. "There is still a lot to do. But you can see for yourself. Would you be OK starting with the upstairs? Then we can come down and see the downstairs and yard and then I've got some sandwiches in the kitchen `Sounds great! Ellen replied. "Lead the way!" As Drew and Mickey started up the stairs, Charlie bumping into their heels as he pushed his way ahead, Ellen leaned over to Mrs. Deringer's ear. "By `tall', I meant `hunky and cute.' Mickey, that lucky boy!" she whispered, looked up at the guys ahead then turned again to Mrs. Deringer. "I definitely think that we could breed some beautiful children," she teased. Mrs. Deringer eyes opened wide but she could only turn red again. `You just need a few floor-to-ceiling mirrors and you'd have Versailles," Ellen remarked as they reached the top of the stair. It was more a reflection of her own tight quarters than the real dimension of the space. But the bleaching of the wood floors and coat of white paint on the walls and ceiling had brightened up the spacious old corridor considerably since the move-in. "There's even an echo," she remarked, clipping off the last word to allow for a hint of rebounded sound. "We don't have rugs or any artwork yet, stuff like that. Our neighbor is an Architect and he's helped us a lot and we know that it still needs to be softened up a bit. But we can't do everything at once, so the fun-house sounds will be here for a while," Drew responded. "Yeah, especially if you guys want to have kids. They'll really make a racket in here. Can you imagine this with a baby screaming," she added, as they all laughed. "We figure that we've got a year or so, which should be plenty of time," Mickey added. They peeked into various bedrooms and the two bathrooms, which were all pretty much at the same level of completion, meaning white walls and bright floors and active echo chambers. Continuing down the hall, Drew opened the door of the last bedroom next to the master suite. "I kind of like the all-white look,' she said, her head scanning the room, which had south facing windows and no curtains. The light poured in. "Do those doors connect to your room?" she asked, pointing toward a pair of double doors on the wall. "Yeah," Mickey answered. This is going to be the nursery, so we wanted a direct connection. "If I was a baby I think that I'd like this," she replied. "I really like all of the light." "Our neighbor showed us their house, which also had white walls, but they had lots of colorful furniture and artwork, rugs, stuff like that, and we both liked that idea. Like we were saying, it's just a matter of time before we can get it all done, as the decorators say, `warm it up.' Especially when the baby comes." "You don't need to make excuses for me, I like it just as it is. The more bright and light the better. I haven't done anything at all with my place, but now I have the model." *** Over the next few months Ellen became more of a fixture around the house than anyone expected or even thought possible. It was official when Charlie would only briefly glance up at her as she came in the living room, give one sniff, then put his head back down on the pillow and continue his snooze. It wasn't like they were rekindling some kind of early childhood friendship. There really hadn't been much contact. And Ellen was far more of free-spirit than either Mickey or Drew. But whether it was just an attitude or similar humor or whatever it is that draws people together, they all seemed to click. It wasn't her style to admit it, but she really did like the fact that Mickey was family, especially family whose company she enjoyed and didn't have to fake. Though not career oriented herself, she was fascinated with his job and how he managed to work all day in a corporate environment. She could never picture herself in any place where they had meetings with people wearing ties. Drew's ambition to be a full-time Dad fascinated her even more. At first it had seemed really odd, both because he was a `guy,' and guys didn't often do that sort of thing, and also because of what seemed like the all-business image of his family. But as she got to know Drew, hear about his relationship his Mom, his sister and even his Dad, it didn't seem very unusual at all. *** "Thank you so much for this!" Ellen exclaimed as she wrapped her arm around Mickey's neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He couldn't actually feel it much, as it was on the scarred side of his face. But that didn't matter. With only a couple weeks until her due date, and the weather just starting to get some chilly evenings, Mickey and Drew arranged a September weekend barbecue-cum-baby shower for Emily in their backyard. All of the Kovars and their spouses were there, along with other neighbors and some of Ellen's friends who Mickey and Drew had gotten to know during the past few months. Her parents sent their regrets about being unable to attend, but at least they acknowledged the event. Which was more than she expected. It was also a last chance to get to know Nate better. Though they currently lived in an apartment only a few blocks away, they would soon be moving to Hawaii to take care of Midori's aging parents. Mickey couldn't help but be disappointed about the prospect of Nate being so far away, but knew that Midori was an only child and understood that her feelings and obligations were not unlike his own. Before she could thank Drew, who was standing on the other side of her, she felt a tug on her floral print dress. She always dressed in something with flowers, and this one, with red abstract roses, almost like a Marimekko textile, was particularly vibrant. She looked down at the source of the pulling. It was Chessie. Normally, she would stoop over to get at eye level, be face to face. But the tummy was too big for that now and she tried to make up for it by putting on her biggest smile and looking down directly at the impish girl. "What can I do for you?" Chessie put her finger in her mouth and smiled, turning every which way, a demonstration of shyness that was not at all typical for her. Stepping into the role of inquisitor, Drew went down almost on his knees and looked her in the eye, at least when her face wasn't in motion. "What are you trying to ask?" She continued twisting, turning, rolling her head, until she bent over and whispered in his ear. "Do you want me to ask her that?" Drew replied. Chessie nodded her head, and put a finger in her mouth as she giggled. "OK, I'll do it. But you need to say something nice to Aunt Ellen after she answers, OK?" She softly bit her finger, giggling even more, and then shook her head `OK.' Drew put his hands on his legs as he slowly pushed himself up and chuckled. "Are you ready for her question?" "Sure," Ellen, said. "As long as it's not too...personal," she replied with a slight chuckle. "You can't guarantee discretion with Chessie, take that as a warning," Drew replied, recalling some rather blunt questions she had for Drew and Mickey. For example, `aren't you two too big for one bed?' "She wants to know if you really have a baby inside you," he told her. Ellen replied right away. "Why, that's a good question, Chessie. And you know what? You're right! There is a baby inside me. And not only one, but two!" "Two?" Chessie asked, her eyes bulging out. "Two!" "How do they fit?" she asked, continuing her wide-eyed stare. "Well...kind of tightly," Ellen replied. She kind of laughed, but the fact of the matter was things really were getting pretty cramped in there. At least that's how it felt to her. "But you can help to take care of them, OK?" Drew said to Chessie. "You can be their aunt." Quickly looking up toward Drew, she asked, "Really?" Her eyes were huge again. "Really!" "I'm gong to go tell my Mommy!" she cried, then ran off to tell Laura, leaving everyone's mouths gaping. "You'll have a lot of surrogate family if you stick around here, Ellen," Drew said. "I know, I know... I like that," she replied. I hope that they do, too," she replied as she rubbed her bulging tummy before she staggered slightly. "Are you OK?" Drew asked quietly. He appeared to be the only one who noticed. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just the big load in here, I guess, she said, stroking her own arms as if she was trying to warm herself up. Before Drew could confirm Ellen's condition, one of her nearby college friends stepped up. "That was so cute, with that little girl" she exclaimed. As Drew was momentarily distracted by Chessie tearing through the crown, the college friend leaned over and whispered in Ellen's ear. "Hey girl, I know you can't drink now, but I can. For both of us! But I can't find any booze anywhere. Where did they stash it? "In spite of their big-time religion, Drew's family is not known as Tea-Totalers, and I know that you sure aren't, either," she added with a wink to Ellen. But her friend didn't get the laugh from Ellen that she was expecting. "Drew doesn't allow any booze here at all. Zero. Not a drop. They didn't even have any at their wedding here, I was told." "Really? She asked. No booze at a wedding? Why?" Ellen paused. "It's just the way they want it." She knew the reason, but it wasn't something that she'd share. It was a surprise to her, too, when she offered to bring them some beer for a barbecue and was politely asked to leave it behind, even though she wasn't drinking herself. It wasn't Drew or Mickey who gave her the background but Mrs. Deringer. She didn't' know the whole story between them, but passed on that Drew had promised Mickey that he'd `never smell liquor on his breath', as he put it. "I think that it was originally just a promise between them," she had confided. "But one time Drew was invited to an Friday after-work bar-hopping session not long after Mickey started at the firm. Even for the water-and-soda crowd it was a great time, and none of the drinkers was in the least bit nasty or aggressive. Toward the end of the evening, however, Drew saw Mickey flinch at the alcohol breath of one of his obviously drunk co-workers. I don't think the guy was threatening in the least. But, for Drew, any reaction like that from Mickey was big problem. And that was the end of any presence of alcohol in or around the house." "And, as you know, the enforcement is draconian. So don't get caught,' she said, smiling. "Well, I guess I can be dry for a few hours," her friend replied. "At least the food is great," she said, turning away to pick an hors d'oeuvre off the tray of a passing server. "Would you like one?" she asked Ellen, pulling off another shrimp. As her friend turned back to offer the food she suddenly cried out, "Oh my God!" Ellen lay next to her, crumpled on the ground and shaking. "I'm so cold!" she cried out.