Jim breezed in at lunch, carrying a bag from Leibowitz's Deli. The apartment was quiet, except for the soft strains of east Indian music floating from the CD player. The nursery door was pulled shut, and Blair sat cross-legged on a pile of pillows in front of an array of candles, meditating.
Knowing better than to disturb his lover in this state, Jim began to set out the sandwiches and chips he'd purchased for their lunch. Halfway through his own sandwich, Jim heard the welcome voice.
"Hey, Jim. When did you get home?" Blair uncurled himself from the pillows and stood, walking into the dining area.
"Oh, about fifteen minutes ago. Didn't want to disturb you. Come on, sit down." Jim gestured at the plate across from him. "Thought I'd come home for lunch . . . bring you a little treat."
Blair briefly examined the sandwich before him. "Tongue. Thanks, Jim. You know how I love a good Leibowitz tongue sandwich. . . ."
"Then why aren't you sitting and eating?" Jim asked, perplexed.
"I, uh. . ." Blair looked around, stalling for time as he tried to come up with an answer Jim would accept. "I had a snack with Laurene, and with the nausea, well . . . I just don't feel like a sandwich right now. Maybe I can put this away for my dinner."
"Did you eat the salmon earlier?" Jim wondered, remembering last night's leftovers.
"Uh, no. I guess the salmon would make a better dinner," Blair hedged. "I can put the sandwich in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch."
"Blair, what's going on?" Jim pushed his chair back and stood, walking around the table to where the younger man swayed ominously.
"Nothing, Jim. Everything's fine. I'm just not hungry now." He took a step away from the table and stumbled. Immediately, he found himself in Jim's arms.
"Out with it, Blair," Jim commanded.
"There's nothing to tell," Blair lied. "I'm fiiinnneeee. . . ." His eyes rolled back in his head, and suddenly Jim found himself with an armful of unconscious anthropologist.
Sweeping Blair up in his arms, Jim carried him over to the couch, kicking aside pillows so he could lay his burden on the cushions. He went into the bathroom, returning with a cool, damp cloth for Blair's forehead.
He sat patiently on the couch next to Blair, until his eyes finally fluttered open.
"How, how'd I get here?"
"You passed out," Jim told him, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Care to tell me what's going on now, or do I have to hustle you off to see Dr. Casey?"
"Oh, geez," Blair groaned. He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. "I'm fine, Jim."
"You're not fine," Jim insisted. "You passed out."
"Yeah, well. . . ."
"Out with it, Darwin, and it had better be good," Jim growled.
"It's customary to fast on Yom Kippur," Blair confessed, then rushed on before Jim could comment. "I knew you wouldn't let me do it if you knew, so I lied. I really did eat a big lunch yesterday, but that was just to hold me through the night." He took the cool compress and pressed it against his aching eyes with a sigh. "I guess I screwed my karma over pretty good with this one," he moaned. "I shouldn't have lied to you about it."
"Damn straight, you shouldn't have," Jim agreed. "You're pregnant, for God's sake! You can't afford to fast."
"I just wanted everything to be right," Blair sniffled. "I just wanted so much for this coming year to be perfect. For you. I know how you worry, Jim."
"Oh, Sweetheart," Jim said, suddenly solicitous again. "You shouldn't risk your health for me. Any God worth worshipping would forgive a pregnant man for not fasting. I just want you to stay healthy."
"I really blew it, huh?" Blair asked, fighting back tears that threatened. "Shit!" he exclaimed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I really hate those hormone injections. They make me so damn emotional."
"It's okay," Jim comforted, pulling the hand away from Blair's eyes and cradling it in his own. "How about some of that sandwich and a glass of milk?"
Blair nodded, and started to get up.
"You stay right here. I'm not going to risk you passing out on me again." He helped Blair into a semi-upright position, cushioned by several pillows at his back. "You wait. I'll be right back."
Jim retrieved the sandwich from the refrigerator, quartering it and putting half the sandwich on a plate. He poured a glass of milk and put the meal on a lap tray. Carrying it back into the living room, he placed the tray in front of Blair.
"Take it easy, now," he warned. "Try a quarter of the sandwich. If that goes down okay, you can eat the rest. Save the other half for later in the afternoon. Okay?"
Blair nodded around a bite of the delicious lunch.
Jim sat with him until he'd finished, then helped Blair settle back down on the couch. "Take a nap while you can," he said, knowing Laurene would wake before long. "And take it real easy until I get home tonight, okay?"
"Yeah, Jim. I'm sorry."
Jim leaned down to kiss the pouting lips. "You're forgiven. Just don't do anything else stupid."
"I won't. I promise." Blair snuggled down under the blanket and closed his eyes.
"Sleep tight," Jim told the somnolent man before grabbing his coat and heading back to work.
October 31, 2000 - Laurene's first birthday:
Jim came home from work to find the loft festooned in polyester spider web and orange and black crepe paper streamers and balloons. Blair was once again up to his elbows in an extraordinarily large pumpkin, cleaning it out before carving a grinning, toothy face. Laurene sat on the floor a few feet away, playing with a large toy spider. She was laughing and mangling the twelve-inch long legs of the posable creature.
"You two look like you're having fun," Jim commented, laughing at their daughter's antics. "Should I be concerned that we're raising a child who'll be pulling wings off flies?"
Blair just laughed. "I'm keeping an eye on her. She took a shine to that thing. There's no small parts, so I let her play with it. She is a Halloween baby, after all." He pulled his arms out of the pumpkin, wiped himself off, and began to carve out the face. "When's everyone coming by for the party?"
"They'll be here any minute. You gonna have that thing ready?" Jim asked, pointing to the jack-o'-lantern.
"Just take a sec," Blair said, hacking away with a frenzy. "Mr. Leibowitz was thrilled to cater the party for us. The fridge is packed. Wanna start setting some of it out?"
"Sure thing." Jim stepped up behind Blair, wrapping his arms around his love and peppering kisses along his neck and shoulder before going into the kitchen to deal with the more mundane task of setting up the buffet.
"Wanna help with this thing?" Blair asked, when the jack-o'-lantern was finished.
"Where do you want it?" Jim asked, picking up the absurdly large squash.
"Center of the buffet table," Blair instructed, picking up his mess and depositing the gutted remains in the garbage before washing up. When he was finished, he placed a battery-operated safety light inside the pumpkin, which lit up with a ghastly glow. "Perfect."
The doorbell rang, and Jim went to let in the guests. Megan came in first, followed by Simon, Joel, Rafe and Brown, all bearing gifts. Jim was about to close the door when he spotted Flo McGinty hurrying down the hall with a brightly wrapped package.
"Am I late?" she puffed.
"Not at all, come on in," Jim invited.
"Oh, I wouldn't have missed this for the world," the old woman cried, swooping in to pick up the birthday girl from the floor. "Happy Birthday, Sweetie." She nuzzled Laurene's cheeks, kissing and hugging her.
"Help yourselves, everybody," Blair announced, indicating the buffet table which groaned under the weight of the food crowded onto it.
Once everyone had a plate full of food, they all gathered in the living room area to watch as Laurene opened her gifts. The birthday girl sat on the floor inside the loose circle of Blair's legs. Her daddy offered her the gifts in turn, but had to patiently help the child tear into the paper. True to form, Laurene continued to be more interested in the wrappings and boxes than in most of the gifts themselves.
Jim roamed the room, videotaping the entire event.
Eventually, it came down to the cake. Blair settled Laurene in her high chair, and carried in the cake, decorated to look like a laughing jack-o'-lantern. In the center was one large candle, glowing brightly. He set the dessert in front of the youngster as the group joined in an off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday."
Standing behind their daughter, Blair encouraged her to blow out the candle. Leaning down so that his face was next to hers, he puffed out his cheeks and blew gently. The flame flickered. Mesmerized by the dancing fire, Laurene stared at the candle.
"Come, Muffin, blow," Blair encouraged. When there was no reaction from the child, he began to be concerned. "Laur, Honey?" He rubbed a hand up and down one chubby arm. "Muffin, listen to Daddy. It's time to make a wish and blow out the candle. Come on, help me." He gave the candle another soft puff. Laurene blinked, then giggled. Coming out of the light zone, she reached for the dancing flame, only to have both her hands captured and held still by her daddy. Blair tried again. This time she puffed, but without enough force to blow out the candle.
"Let's try it together. How does that sound?" Blair whispered in her ear. Laughing, Laurene puffed out her cheeks, but it was actually her daddy who ended up blowing out the flame.
Laurene clapped delightedly, then reached for the cake, which Blair managed to lift away from her grasp just in time.
He took the cake over to the buffet table and began to cut it into serving-sized pieces. He picked up two plates, and walked back to the guest of honor, placing one plate on the high chair tray. "Help yourselves, everyone," he told the assembled guests, sucking icing from his fingertips.
Balancing his own plate in one hand, Blair picked up the toddler fork and placed it in Laurene's pudgy fist. She promptly abandoned the utensil and grabbed a handful of the cake, cramming it into her mouth. Jim, who was still behind the camera, had to stifle his laughter at the sight. Laurene was smeared with chocolate cake and orange icing--face and hair getting equal treatment as she happily ate with her hands.
"Hey, that looks like a lot more fun than I'm having," Blair exclaimed, picking up the cake in his fingers and jamming it into his mouth, much to Laurene's delight. She grabbed what remained of her cake, and tried feeding that to her daddy as well. Blair nearly choked on the mouthful, swallowing with difficulty.
Once he had managed to clear his throat enough to speak, Blair looked up into the camera, face still smeared with cake crumbs. "If you think this is good," he laughed, "just wait. This is only the beginning!"
THE END
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