Thursday, July 5, 2001
Sipping coffee in the cafeteria, Mark Sloan was hunched over a newspaper when Steve plopped down in a chair beside him. “Hi, Dad. Sure is a hot day.”
“Oh, hi, Steve. Is everything okay?” Mark asked. He peered over the top of his eyeglasses, taking note that his handsome son was dressed in full police regalia, complete with many medals in a straight line across the upper left side of his chest, a new captain’s rank emblem pinned to the collar. The hat was tucked beneath his arm in compliance with military/constabulary regulations. Every soldier knew the rule from boot camp and every cop from academy training, and Steve had excelled in both worlds. *Hats are to be removed when entering any building.*
“You got your promotion! Oh, Steve, I’m so proud of you!” Mark reached to hug him, careful not to wrinkle the jacket. “I wish I could have been there!”
Steve’s arms closed around the older man. “Thanks, Dad. Me, too. It got a little hot because they insisted on an official ceremony outside on the podium. Fifteen awards and three promotions. This monkey suit got a little warm.”
As Mark pulled back, his trained eyes scanned his son’s face. He wrinkled his nose at the exhale of breath. “Did you have something to drink?”
“I had a couple.” Steve said. “Even better, I got an extra little reward for being promoted to captain! I’m off for a four-day weekend! I plan to spend most of my time sleeping.”
“A four-day weekend! Wow! That doesn’t happen very often.”
“No, it sure doesn’t.” Steve released him and glanced around. “Where’s Jesse?”
“He’s in the doctor’s lounge taking a nap. He’s been feeling pretty rough.”
“Morning sickness?” It still sounded absurd.
“Yes, and noon, and evening, and all night. He can’t hold anything down for more than a few minutes.”
“Poor Jesse.” Steve sighed. “When is *his* day off?”
“He’s got today off, and the weekend, too, ordered by me! In fact, if you want to...”
“I could take him home with me and take care of him?”
“That’s a good idea, Steve. Maybe you could get him to drink some milk or juice. The two of you could watch a movie or go for a walk on the beach. What do you think? He could really use a friend right now.”
“I think that’s a great idea. I’ll go get him.” Steve got up and walked toward the door.
“Steve...”
The tall detective turned to face his father. “Don’t criticize him for doing this.”
“I won’t, Dad.” Saluting him, Steve went out the door.
Amanda slid into the chair next to Mark as the captain left. “My, he looks handsome.” she commented.
“Yes, he does.” Mark agreed, smiling graciously after him. “*Very* handsome.”
Even with the age difference, she could relate. She was her own young son’s greatest fan. “I got the DNA results on those two abortion murder cases from June and I received confirmation on the girls’ identities. Their names were Shelly King and Maria Robinson. Mark, they were both pregnant by the same man.”
She paused to let her words take effect, and when she saw the interest in her friend’s eyes, she went on. “They were both approximately three months pregnant. Both did volunteer work for a local ‘Pro Life’ organization, which has to do with the Catholic church! They were from very devout families. Mark, have you ever met a good Catholic girl who would have an illegal abortion?”
“No...” he answered, deep in thought. “No, I haven’t. Especially not when they’re pro-life activists.”
“Exactly.” She gave him a triumphant nod. “So, what do you make of all this?”
“I’m afraid to say it out loud.” he said grimly.
“You’re not going to say anything to Steve?”
“Amanda, in all my years as a doctor and as a police observer, I’ve never deliberately withheld evidence that could lead to the arrest and conviction of a murderer. Do you think I’m going to start now?”
“The situation is all different now. I know what you’re thinking, and I agree with you. Jesse is fragile enough right now without adding this little piece of horror to his misery. The only doctor who knows how to reverse the operation to restore his body to right after the baby is born is Penrose. If you blow the whistle on him before then, Jesse could permanently lose his masculinity, maybe even his life. Mark, I don’t want to lose him.”
“I know, Amanda. Jesse’s like my own son. All this evidence sure makes Penrose look guilty, doesn’t it?” Mark sighed loudly. “What to do, what to do...”
“We keep our mouths shut.” she advised.
He closed his eyes and nodded. “You’re right. But only until after the baby is born.”
“Mark, we’re withholding evidence, which is punishable by up to five years in prison.”
“Yeah.” he said, the grimness returning . “I know.”
*******
Steve found Jesse sleeping on a leather settee in the doctor’s lounge and stooped beside him. Brushing his cheek with his fingertips, he murmured, “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Jesse stirred reluctantly, then opened one eye to look at him. He smiled, his ever-effervescent voice strained by a wide yawn. “Hi, Steve. You look good! Love the uniform!”
“Thanks. You ready to go home?”
“No, that’s okay. I’m comfortable right here.” Jesse curled up with the obvious intentions of going back to sleep, but Steve took him by the arms and pulled him to his feet. The young doctor looked up at his friend in surprise.
“I’m taking you home.” Steve said firmly. Noting he was in his scrubs, he led him toward the door. “Where are your clothes?”
“In my locker.” Jesse smothered a second yawn before he resorted to whining. “Steve, why do I have to go home? I’m happy here.”
“We’re going to *my* home, not yours. Don’t worry, Jess, I’m not going to leave you alone.”
“Oh. Okay.” Jesse looked relieved and embarrassed at the same time. “I’ll go get my stuff.”
“I’ll come with you.” Steve said, and followed him to locker room.
*******
Thirty minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of the beach house Steve shared with his father. As they entered the house, Jesse, deathly pale, bolted for the bathroom. Steve winced at the sounds of retching. He moved to the bathroom door, which was ajar, and peeped in as his friend washed his face in the basin. “So, you still think this being pregnant thing is a nifty idea?” he asked.
“No! I hate being sick.” Jesse answered.
“I wish you would have thought about it a little longer before you agreed to do it.” Steve said, carefully rubbing his back.
“Please don’t say ‘I told you so’.” Jesse rinsed out his mouth, then grabbed the basin. “Can I lie down? I’m so dizzy.”
Steve put an arm around him for support and led him back to the living room. Putting him on the couch, he perched on the edge and studied his face. “You don’t look good at all.”
“Gee, thanks, Steve.”
“You want something to drink?”
“If you give me something to drink, you’d better have a bucket ready. That’s the way it works. Until this trimester is over, that’s what I have to look forward to.”
“You have to drink or you’ll dehydrate. Water is good for you, but milk would be better. You need the nutrition.”
“No, I think the *baby* needs the nutrition.”
“So do you. Jesse, you’re a doctor. You know I’m right.” Steve said. “But I’ll give you some slack. You’re sleepy, so take a nap, okay?” He ran concerned fingers through his friend’s thick blonde hair. “Go to sleep.”
Jesse closed his eyes. “Okay, thanks. G’night.” He reached for Steve’s hand and held it as he assumed a more restful pose. “Sleepy.”
Steve did not pull his hand away. He remained there, holding the soft, talented hand until his pregnant male friend had fallen asleep.
*******
Mark’s arrival was what brought him to his feet. Steve cautioned him to be quiet, gesturing toward their slumbering guest. The two Sloans tiptoed into the kitchen to talk.
“I see you’re still in dress uniform. You haven’t had a chance to change, yet?”
“I was holding Jesse’s hand.” Steve answered, knowing he would take it metaphorically.
“He sure needs that right now. You’re a good man, son.”
“He was already thin, Dad--now you can count every rib through his shirt! He’s throwing up, he’s probably dehydrated, he’s pale as a ghost and he’s *pregnant*! How much longer is this going to go on?”
“Usually lasts about nine months, Steve.”
“Very funny. I mean the sickness.”
“The nausea could end in a month, but then again, it may not. Your mother was sick the entire nine months she was pregnant with you. Technically, because Jesse’s fetus was at twelve weeks before it was implanted, it’s in the second trimester, but Jesse has only carried it for a month, so his body is still reacting as if it were an early pregnancy.”
Steve leaned against the counter and gazed off into the mid-distance. “You know, Dad, I’ve been thinking a lot about kids.”
“*You*, Steve? You want kids?”
“I love kids. I always have. It would be great to have a little one around, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it would. I think if Jesse’s baby is around us a lot, he or she is going to be one *very* spoiled child.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? Nothing wrong with a little spoiling, is there?” Steve grinned at him.
“Of course not. Spoiling is mandatory.” Mark assured him. “Steve, do you think we could talk him into moving in here with us?”
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all, but you need to be very careful how you handle this situation.” Mark warned. “He’s fragile now. I’ve even seen him get teary a couple of times. It’s not pretty.”
“He needs us now.”
“Yes, but you have to be careful what you say to him. Sometimes, pregnant women go through a phase of hormonal imbalance that throws their emotions to extremes. They’re either crying or they’re jubilant. Your mom called it a ‘rollercoaster’. I don’t know what it’ll do to Jesse, yet, but I’m sure he’ll be no different. Just be ready if he takes things wrong.”
“What could he possibly take wrong?”
“I don’t know. It’s impossible to predict ‘gestational paranoia’. He might think we’re trying to take the baby away from him if we ask him to move in with us.”
“He couldn’t be that pathetic! Dad, he’s a grown-up! I know he doesn’t always *act* like one, but he’s got good sense!”
“You can’t always count on that.”
Steve shrugged in surrender. “Okay. I’ll be careful what I say.”
“If he says something unreasonable, try to keep in mind what I just told you.”
“Okay.”
“Believe me, Steve. I’ve been through it all. Your mom was a bear when she was pregnant. I couldn’t open my mouth without her either crying or throwing things at me! Those were the absolute worst eighteen months of my life!”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t know Carol and I had such an adverse effect on Mom.”
“And me!” Mark laughed affectionately and patted his shoulder. “Believe me, you were worth it.”
“I hope.”
“You know I love you, Steve.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
*******
Friday, July 6, 2001
As Jesse came from the bathroom, still weak from a case of the dry heaves, Mark guided him to the dining room table. “Time for breakfast, young man.” he said firmly.
“I can’t eat, Mark.” Jesse protested. “It’ll come right back up. You obviously don’t know how sick I am!”
“You can’t stop eating just because you have morning sickness.” Mark pushed him into a chair and set a bowl, a box of cereal and milk in front of him. “Rice Crispies are great for the first trimester.”
Jesse groaned, but poured the cereal.
Steve entered the house from the deck, his hair windblown, his shirt unbuttoned. “Jesse, you should bring your breakfast out here. It’s a beautiful day.”
Mark smiled conspiratorially at his son. “That’s a great idea!”
Having poured milk over his crackling cereal, Jesse stumbled toward the sliding glass doors to join Steve on the deck. “It’ll probably be easier to clean up puke off the deck, anyway.” he muttered.
Mark slid the door closed and left them alone on the deck.
“Where’s he going? I thought he would join us.” Jesse said as he sat down. He dipped a bug from his cereal and pitched it into the nearby bushes.
“He’s going to work. He had breakfast an hour ago.” Steve scooted his chair closer to his friend’s in preparation for their discussion. He watched Jesse take a bite before he began. “Dad and I were talking this morning, and we both think it would be a good idea for you to move in here with us until after the baby is born.”
Jesse’s blue eyes rose to meet his gaze. “Move in here? You mean, like *live* here? What about my apartment?”
“That’s up to you, but since you’re renting, it’s not such a problem, is it? We’ve got plenty of room for all your stuff, and if you choose to stay after the baby is born, there’ll be room for him...or her, too. It’s a big house.”
Suspicion narrowed the doctor’s eyes for an instant, then a glint of tears made him look down. “Thank you for your concern, Steve, but no thank you. I’m fine on my own.”
“Jesse, you can’t dismiss the idea without at least some consideration! Dad and I care about you! We want to be here for you!”
“Steve, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. But I’m grateful that you care about me. That means a lot to me.”
“Jesse...”
Jesse took another bite, shaking his head. “No.” he said with his mouth full.
“Will you at least think about it?”
Jesse put down his spoon. “I’ll think about it.” he answered. “And I’ll tell you no again later. Why would you want *me* to move in here with you? It doesn’t make sense, Steve! I’m not part of your family. I’m just a friend, an employee, a partner in BBQ Bobs! Your lives would be overrun by me and my problems, and pretty soon you would be sorry you asked me to move in! So the answer is no, but thank you very much for asking. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Jess, you *are* family! Think about this, okay?”
“No.” Jesse persisted. Seeing the cop’s crestfallen face, he patted his arm. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it any more.”
Frustrated, Steve smacked the tabletop. “Damn it, Jesse!”
“I’ll spend the night.”
“Spend it with me.”
“You want to go camping or something?”
“If that’s what you want to do. Or we could just hang out on the couch and watch TV.”
“That sounds like a perfect weekend.”
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