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I roll my eyes. “See if that gets you my banana,” I say. By the look in her eyes, I can tell she knows it has two meanings.
“Well, you do! Don’t punish me because TJ has a great sense of humor.”
“Too soon, babe. Too soon.” Despite my threat, I get into the kitchen and start making her some toast. It went over well this morning, and I’m hoping it does the trick at two am too.
When I come back out with a plate, Tilly is lying on the couch with TJ on her chest. They’re both asleep. I lean against the wall and grin like the lovesick fool I really am. We’re going to be just fine. If we can make it through TJ’s dramatics, pretty sure we’ve got this parent thing in the bag.
Instead of waking her to eat, I pull the ottoman over and lie next to Tilly. Many nights as a teen were spent on this couch. Falling asleep with my brothers while watching a movie or enjoying a game night with the family. The brown microfiber feels even more comfortable tonight than it was back then. I try not to let my mind wander to what we’ll be doing come this time tomorrow, but it’s difficult. Tilly’s family is this ever-present threat that consumes my mind every time I have a spare moment. Worry that they won’t agree, or they’ll figure out what we’re trying to do is always a little tickle in the back of my thoughts. But it is late, and TJ has done a great job of wearing me out. Within a few minutes, I’m asleep too.
***
The next morning, light filters into the living room. It’s a glorious spring day, I can already tell by the sounds of birds chirping and the smell of fresh air. I turn my head to get a look at my girl. She’s sleeping soundly, her hands tucked up under her head. We remained on the couch after TJ fell asleep, and I have to admit, I slept like the dead.
TJ. Wait! I look all around Tilly and me. He’s nowhere to be found. I shoot up to a sitting position and hear a chuckle behind me.
“He’s right here,” Sam says. I let my head tilt back and sigh loudly.
“Thank Jesus.” I get to my feet and stretch my arms over my head. When I finish my loud yawn, I smile at Sam. Little TJ is happily nursing. It looks so… weird. See, the thing is, Tilly’s boobs are mine. I’ve nibbled, flicked, sucked, and all around played with them every chance I’ve gotten.
Should I not do that anymore? Seems like our baby kind of has a claim on them now. My brow furrows as Sam chuckles. “Tommy, you’re staring at my chest.”
As if he’s offended, TJ stops his nursing and turns his head my way. I swear to God, he smirks at me. Probably remembering how he peed on me last night. It takes a second for me to realize that Sam’s boob is just… hanging out. Well, how ’bout that. I’ve now seen Sam’s nipple. Not as great as I thought it would be.
“Tommy!” I hear Greg shout from the kitchen. Whoops. Caught.
“Uh, sorry, dude. It wasn’t perverted or anything,” I say, rubbing my neck. Greg leans over the island and narrows his eyes. “Then what was it?” he asks. Sam is looking at me too, but she’s picked TJ up and is now burping him. She has a smirk too now, and I promise it’s the exact look TJ gave me.
My face fills with warmth. I guess if anyone knows the deal, it’s probably Greg. “It’s kinda… kinky.” I admit. Greg’s face goes beet red, and I realize I’ve said the wrong thing. I wave my hands. “With Tilly! Can I still play with her tits?” I blurt out.
Greg and Sam are silent. Probably because both my mother and Miranda have walked into the room. Miranda is the first to break the silence. “Ugh, nasty. Read a fucking book if you’re curious.”
But my mom chimes in with her wisdom. “Dealer’s choice. Your father didn’t seem to mind a little lactation on his chin.”
Hear that thud? That’s my stomach falling out of the spot where my balls used to be. I say used to because they’ve now shriveled up into nothingness.
“Ma!” I yell out. The noise from my shout doesn’t sit well with TJ or Tilly. TJ is now wailing as Tilly sits up.
“Did you just ask them about my boobs?” she asks, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Greg’s anger is gone as he booms out a roaring laugh. Even Sam is chuckling as she gets TJ reattached to her opposite boob. “Yes, you can still play with her boobs. But your mom is right. It might get a little… wet. And it could put her into labor toward the end.”
This conversation has taken a very unfortunate turn. I don’t want to think about leaking boobs, or my mom and dad being intimate. And honestly, I don’t want to think of Greg getting freaky with Sam either. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister.
I hold up both hands. “Forget I asked.”
Miranda scoffs. “If only I could.” She goes to the coffee pot and pours herself a mug before filling one for my mom. “So are we leaving or no? Cause someone said I had to be ready by eight am and it’s now…” she makes a show of checking her wrist even though there’s no watch. “Eight forty-five.”
“Oh hush, Andy. They needed sleep. I know you heard that handsome man crying all night.”
“Better they get used to it now since Tilly doesn’t know how birth control works,” Miranda says.
“Andy!” Tilly says and Miranda shrugs. “Our baby was not a mistake.” All eyes go to Tilly with a ‘get real’ look. “Okay, so he was unplanned. But that doesn’t mean he’s unwelcome. And can we please, please, never talk about my boobs again?” There’s a collective agreement around the room. “Good, cause it’s bad enough I have to deal with all these ‘magic’ changes to my body.” She uses air quotes around the word magic. “I’d really like the rest of you to just ignore them. Especially you,” she points a finger at me, and I nod eagerly. The message is loud and clear. Ignoring changes means her boobs are still on the table for my pleasure. Cool. “I’ve got enough to worry about with my Tia trying to ruin my life. Now, if you don’t mind. I’m going to shower so we can get this shit show on the road. Tommy?” It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to me.
“Yeah?” She arches an eyebrow. I know what that means; she wants me to join her. Gladly. I get to my feet and point at my woman. “I’m gonna—”
“Wash her boobs?” Miranda asks. The room laughs and Tilly throws up two middle fingers but walks out with her chin held high. I watch her go, my mouth already watering, but I’m still frozen in place. So much is happening that I’m having a hard time keeping up.
“Do you know if it’s a boy?” Ma asks, gaining my attention.
