Unobtainable (38 page)

“I want to see you both once a week, you can set up your next few visits with my receptionist and in the mean time I would like you to try something.”

Both of us sat taller, listening intently.

“I don’t want the two of you discussing…could you share his name with me?” she asked.

I sucked in a hefty breath and blew it out on a loud puff. “Bruno.”

She nodded her head and wrote it down. “Right then, no discussing Bruno or your mother outside of this office, do you think you can you do that this week?”

“I can,” Dyson flashed his brow.

I nodded.

“Each night at bedtime, I want you tell each other a story,” she laughed when she caught sight of our querying faces. “I don’t mean reading a book. Share happy thoughts, happy moments of the day, you can make it up or it can be something you did at work, with friends, whatever. But it must be upbeat and positive, not one negative word. Is that doable?”

“Very doable,” Dyson agreed, giving me a reassuring wink.

“There is another thing that I would like you to consider, Harley,” the Doc said, setting the pad she was writing on face down on the table. “Emancipation.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

I knew the term but it had never occurred to me to consider it. One did not divorce their parents, well at least no one I knew of.

“I am very serious,” she stared me in the eye. “In rare cases, once a child becomes emancipated from the abusive parent or parents, they learn to deal with their emotions and, as in your case, the nightmares lessen, if not stop all together. Perhaps you and Dyson could discuss this further amongst yourselves.”

“But you said we couldn’t talk about
them
outside of this office,” I said.

“Then we will remedy that,” she thought for a moment. “You have until six this evening, so I suggest you make the most of it. Go somewhere nice for an early dinner, just the two of you, and talk. I feel it would be in your best interest, from what you have told me, to sever the remaining ties with your mother. Consider the emotional freedom it could bring you.”

And that’s exactly what we did. After making an appearance at work, even though Dyson wasn’t supposed to go back yet, we went to dinner and discussed divorce proceedings. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. It only made sense to cut any threads that may have been hanging on and be done with her.

~Dyson~

Who would have thought that we would be sitting in the middle of a steakhouse discussing a divorce and it wasn’t our own. But here we were sitting in the swankiest joint in town, eating steak while drinking pint number three and Harley seemed truly happy with his decision. I chose to give my opinion, for what it was worth, leaving the ultimate verdict to Harley. I was going to support him, no matter the outcome.

“To my divorce,” Harley laughed, holding up his mug of beer.

“You’re going to do it?” I asked, clinking my mug to his. “Congratulations.”

He nodded, taking a full haul off his beer, leaving a beer foam mustache on his upper lip. I leaned across the table, licking the foam from his lip before lingering a soft kiss on his lips.

“We should celebrate,” Harley announced, with a gloriously relaxed grin.

“Need I remind you, we have to be at the airport early in the morning?” I was quick to say before he ordered an uncapped bottle of Chivas, declaring it Chivas night. “We also have to pack for our trip?”

Harley chewed the inside of his cheek. “You’re right, but…we could celebrate another way.” He wiggled his brow and winked. “If you know what I mean.”

His cheeky grin had me laughing and hard as a steel rod.

~Harley~

New York was wonderful all year round, but it was especially exciting at Christmas time. Buildings were decorated to the nines, with garlands strung everywhere and trees swathed with white lights, lighting both sides of the streets. This was the place to be if you were endeavoring to get into the spirit of the season.

The minute we got into our hotel room, we stripped off naked and I fucked Dyson against the window as we watched the crowd below bustling along west 51st street. It was his idea, who was I to stand in the way of my man’s pre-Christmas wishes?

We quickly showered and bundled up because winters in New York were fucking cold, then we ventured out on a shopping excursion. We went to Sacs first where we bought small gifts for just about everyone on our list, then we ended up at the Disney store on Broadway, after treating ourselves at M&M’s world.

We ended up in this great pizzeria, John’s, the menu said it was the most unique pizza in the world, I had to agree. We were sat where we had a perfect view of the almost cathedral like ceiling, beautiful bright colored stain glass illuminating the place. There was a giant mural on the wall and a staircase leading to balcony seating. The place was noisy, the din of patrons talking mixed with happy Italian music all around us, causing us to speak a bit louder than we would have liked. But the atmosphere was friendly and the food was amazing.

After, we stood at the base of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center and gazed up at the mass of lights, it was something incredible to see, even in the daylight. We shared a kiss and had a nice young lady take our picture for posterity, then shared a cup of hot chocolate and a foot long hotdog before donning skates and skating for close to two hours. I was as cold as I thought possible, my teeth were chattering and I could barely feel my fingers, but with Dyson’s hand in mine I didn’t give a shit how cold it got.

I spun around when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder, we both looked shocked at the man standing staring at us.

“Jason Garner,” I said. “Of all the places in the world you had to be here, what brings you to New York?”

“It is a small world, is it not?” he eyed us both, his sight moving to our hands tucked in my pocket. “I have to thank you.”

I stopped Dyson from pulling his hand free, I wasn’t allowing him to let Jason make us feel uncomfortable. “And what exactly would you be thanking me for?”

“Getting me fired, of course,” Jason declared with his one brow raised and a cocky smile curling his lips.

Dyson snorted. “You’re thankful for getting fired.”

“I am,” he nodded. “I would have never come to New York and I wouldn’t have bagged myself a position with Dunkirk Advertising.”

Admittedly, I was very impressed. Dunkirk was one of the top advertising Agencies in New York. It was who knew who when attempting to
bag
as he so fluently put it, a position at Dunkirk. I could not imagine who it was that would hire Jason- menacing-bastard-Garner.

“Doing well I take it?” Dyson asked.

“Are you working with Darren Hunter, by chance?” I used the name game, slipping my question in at the end of Dyson’s, before Jason had time to speak.

“The name’s not familiar,” he answered with a scowl.

“Hmm…” I hummed, running my tongue along my upper teeth holding back my snicker. “Mr. Hunter is head of advertising at Dunkirk, I know him very well. We went to Princeton together.”

Jason moved uncomfortably from foot to foot as he looked away from me to Dyson, who had an equally satisfied look on his face at Jason’s embarrassment.

“I didn’t say I was in the advertising department,” Jason said, lifting his impudent chin. “I’m working my way up.”

“My mistake, sorry,” I said. “What position was it that you
bagged
?”

“I’m PA to a Mr. Kreutzer,” his attitude changed in a new direction. “I should be getting back, he’s a mess without me to guide him along.”

“Say hi to David for me…” I told him, giving an award winning smile when he realized I knew the man. “…over there in shipping. He should have retired years ago.”

Dyson let out a garroted chuckle and earned a deadly sneer from Jason.

“We all have to start somewhere, son,” Dyson added to his discomfort.

“Fuck you,” Jason bit out. “I don’t know why I bothered even talking to a couple of queers like you.”

“Careful kid,” Dyson warned. “Remember what happened the last time you crossed us.”

A smile creased my lips as I remembered EJ personally escorting Jason to the front doors, with his separation papers in one hand and his bargain basement jacket in the other. Jason’s feet barely touched the ground as EJ shuffled him by the scruff of the neck along the hall, and he flailed about, attempting to set himself free. Dyson had no problem convincing his brother that Jason was bad news, and once he uttered the word blackmail EJ was on Jason like a fly to shit. EJ was livid in regards to one of the team making threats against another and it only took him about ten minutes to remove the bad stain from soaking in any further.

“Pfft…” he huffed, trying to speed across the ice, slipping and sliding in his fancy Italian shoes.

“Can you believe the gall?” Dyson asked.

“The sad thing is,” I tipped forward, giving Dyson a gentle peck on the mouth. “That little fucker will do whatever he has to in order get to the top, and he will get there. One day he’ll be making a lot of lives very miserable, in the name of materialistic success.”

Dyson jumped with a start when my phone began ringing.

“Either your pockets vibrating or you’re very happy to be in such close proximity to me,” Dyson tittered.

“It’s my phone,” I laughed, pulling my glove off with my teeth and reaching into my coat pocket, where Dyson’s hip had been pushed against me. “Let me get this and then I’ll treat you to dinner somewhere nice and warm.”

“Deal,” Dyson said, as he shivered.

It was Chelsea calling. My eyes widened, giving Dyson my holy-shit look.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?” I asked apprehensively, not waiting for her hello.

“Uh, yes and no,” she snickered. “I hate to disturb you on your New York trip.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, waiting for the worst.

“I’m a bit early,” she sounded funny, I heard her gasp.

“Chels, what the fuck, is it the baby?”

“Uh huh, I think my water just broke.”

“Holy fuck, where are you?” I asked, panic setting in as I pulled our joined hands out of my pocket and took hold of Dyson’s scarf, stopping him from skating away.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she tittered again, a nervous laugh no doubt. “Thank god I didn’t ruin the new carpet, my landlord would kill me.”

“Fuck the landlord.”

“Harley, what’s wrong with Chelsea?” Dyson asked, grasping my coat sleeve.

“Her water broke,” I told Dyson. “Get us on the next flight outta here, we have to get home right away.

“I’m on it,” he told me, as he punched numbers into his phone, losing his footing and almost wiping out.

“Harley, I’m scared,” Chelsea said, as she started to cry.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Are you having contractions?” I asked uneasily, since I had the duty of being her birthing coach, and I was standing in New York City and she was on the other end of the phone, all alone.

I shook my head. I knew it was a bad idea to leave her, but she insisted everything was good after seeing her doctor, he reassured her that there was no progress and she’d more than likely be late. Now here we were in New York City and my baby sister was having her baby without me, early.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Honey, either you are or you’re not!” I yelled.

“Don’t yell at me!” she cried into the phone. “I’ve never done this before…I can’t do this, I don’t remember anything from prenatal classes, I’m screwed.”

“Calm down Chels, call a taxi and get to the hospital,” I instructed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I’m only a few hours away. Dyson’s getting us a seat on the next flight out.”

“But I’m all alone, Harley,” she cried, I could see her angelic face streaked with tears in my mind, her lip quivering as she held her swollen belly.

“I won’t be long, it’s a short flight, just a few hours. You won’t be alone for long,” I assured her.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” her voice crackled as she spoke. “I can’t raise a baby all by myself. I made a terrible mistake thinking I could do this. Maybe I should reconsider adoption after all.”

“Chels, calm the fuck down,” I said, as Dyson approached me. “You’re going to be an awesome mom, the best.”

“Our flight leaves in an hour, we have to get moving if we want to get there on time,” Dyson said.

If anyone could talk sense into Chelsea’s head it was Dyson. I handed him the phone, his brows creased as he shook his head.

“She’s losing it and I think I am too, talk to her,” I said, tugging him in the direction of the hotel.

“Chelsea, its Dyson,” he spoke calm, with a soothing whisper to his tone. “How’s it going, beautiful? Going to become a mom soon, we’re on our way home.”

“I’m scared and Harley yelled at me.”

Dyson, glared in my direction, I was in deep shit, piles of it the way Dyson was staring at me with his chin tucked to his chest, his brows raised and his head tilted.

“He yelled at you?” Dyson asked, his brows slowly creasing as his pointy elbow dug into my ribs.

“Oww!” I hollered, grabbing my side.

“Listen to me Chelsea,” Dyson spoke, softly, with an exacting tone. “Take a deep breath, in…and out...in…and out. Now stay calm and call a taxi to take you to General, we’ll come straight from the airport. No more tears, just deep cleansing breaths. In…and out…I love you, we’ll see you soon.”

We hadn’t even bothered to take off our skates, the sound of the metal blades tinging against the marble floor drawing everyone’s attention.

“Medical emergency!” Dyson yelled, as he pushed the elevator button incessantly. People seemed to understand those words, as they went on their way ignoring us and we jumped into the elevator.

~Dyson~

Harley was a nervous wreck. The entire flight home he chewed his fingernails to the quick and his knee vibrated violently causing both our seats to quaver. If he wasn’t fiddling with his watch or screwing with the overhead lighting and air, he was playing with his seatbelt and staring out the window, tapping a grating rhythm on the glass.

I was glad we left Harley’s car at the Park N’ Fly and that I had commandeered the keys before we landed, because he was in no shape for driving, you would think he was the one that was going to give birth.

Once we arrived, Harley was carted away to be gowned and masked, Chelsea was progressing quickly by this point, we had just made it in time.

You’d have thought I was the expectant father, the way I was carving a groove in the flooring of the waiting room. It had been hours. I went to the gift shop and bought a pink bear and a blue bear and sat on the cheap rust colored vinyl sofa with one on each knee as the hours ticked away.

“I have never been happier to be a gay man in my life,” Harley said, as he burst through the door, roughly plopping his ass beside me. “That was
the
most disgusting thing I have ever been witness to…never again, no fucking way.”

I laughed. Harley was still gowned up, from the top of his head to the blue booty covers over his running shoes and a green paper mask over his mouth. I almost suggested we take the outfit home so we could play doctor later, then shook the thought from my mind.

“So are you an Uncle or an Aunt?” I asked.

“What?”

“Girl or boy, jackass?”

No sense of humor, he was shit when it came to pressure situations, he made me laugh. I could only imagine what he had put everyone through when I was admitted not too long ago, never mind what he was like in the delivery room.

“It’s a girl,” he finally smiled. “She has ten little fingers and ten little toes and dimples like her mommy and she’s fucking beautiful.”

“Congrats, Uncle Harley,” I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Congratulations to you too, Uncle Dyson.”

“It never crossed my mind, I guess she is my niece in a way,” I smiled.

“Come see our new niece, Chelsea sent me to get you,” he stood, holding out his hand, finally getting a glimpse at my companions. “Seriously, you bought them both?”

“Never mind that,” I laughed, setting the blue bear in the corner of the sofa. “What’s her name?”

“Chelsea said she’d tell us together. Come on.”

Chelsea looked radiant sitting up in her bed with a pink swathed bundle in her arms. She looked up at us and smiled when I set the pink teddy bear on the end of the bed.

“What took you so long?” Chelsea asked. “You want to hold her, Dyson?”

Jet black hair peeked out from under the little pink beanie on the baby’s head, she was sound asleep with a scowl on her face. I automatically thought of EJ and laughed.  I held her carefully, touching my lips to her forehead, she smelled wonderful and new, there was nothing better than the smell of a newborn.