Dr. D Spills the Tea

Triangle

Coffee.

    I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and, tiredly, I blinked my eyes.

    Pancakes.

    Bacon.

    Delicious scents were wafting down the steps and, sitting up, I yawned, stretching my back out.

    I’d showered last night so I was sure my hair was a bit of a mess.  Raking my hand through it, kicking on the fluffy slippers I’d found next to the bed last night, I shuffled upstairs.  To be honest, I expected the chef of the household to be working the kitchen so when I found Theo working the stove, I had to admit I was a bit surprised.

    “Good morning,” I mumbled, taking a look at what he was doing.

    “There’s coffee,” Theo said, voice kind of rough.

    I’d seen him with five o’clock shadow and bedhead before but that was years ago.

    I hadn’t seen him scruffy since that time in the hospital.  I could still picture his body resting against the side of the Phil’s bedside, Phil’s hand resting atop his head.  He'd always placed Phil's hand upon his head in the hopes that he'd jostle him when he finally woke up.

    “How do you like your eggs, D?”  Theo’s voice startled me out of my reverie.

    “Scrambled, please.”

    He dropped two eggs into the simmering pan, immediately breaking the yoke, working it with the spatula.  He had a lot of things cooking at once and seemed at ease in the kitchen.

    “Phil taught you well,” I smiled.

    “He’s always cooking for me,” Theo mumbled.  “The least I could do is learn to make a decent breakfast.”

    “Is he still sleeping?” I wondered, already moseying over toward the coffee pot.

    “Mugs are in the cupboard right there,” Theo instructed.  I found them easy enough, already pouring my caffeine fix.  “And yeah, I kind of wore him out last night.”

    “TMI,” I laughed, stirring the creamer and sugar into my coffee.

    “Are we really going to do this, D?”

    Glancing over my shoulder, I took in Theo’s severe expression.

    Hope.

    His expression—he looked hopeful.

    “He’s excited, you know.  We’ve wanted children for a while and—”

    “This revisal,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.  “What is it?”

    Theo frowned, flipping some pancakes.  “You have to understand, D, there’s a lot of potential complications in pregnancy and delivery can be very sudden—”

    “I have a career to think about, Theodore.”

    “Move your career here, then,” was his argument.  “There’s plenty of openings here in Pittsburgh—”

    “So you just want me to uproot my entire life—”

    “What life?” he asked.

    What . . . life?  My body went rigid and the anger was immediate.  My feet had already taken me across the kitchen, to his side, and he just gazed down at me, green eyed stare unwavering.  “I spent my entire life working toward a solid career—”

    “How’s finding a donor going for you?” he cut in, narrowing his eyes.

    I parted my lips, then bit down on my bottom one.

    One night.

    It had taken him only one night to make me upset.

    Just one—

    “We’re offering you family.  A home.”

    “I’m not going to live in your basement,” I hissed.

    “That’s a temporary arrangement,” he said, voice calm.  “You’ll have your own house and enough children to fill it.”  He was painting a really pretty picture and with an uncanny ease.  I parted my lips, to argue, but he beat me to the punch, adding, “You’ll be financially stable.  I have no problem supporting any of your education and career endeavors here.  In Pittsburgh.”

    “I . . . Theo, you don’t understand. I worked so hard—”

    “The partnership with George is broken, isn’t it?  So why do you feel so attached to New York City?  I just don’t understand it.  Your entire family is here, D.  We’re here.”

    We.

    He’d just said we.

    Including himself.

    I stared up at him, taking in his profile as he continued to cook.

    Steadfast.

    Calm.

    And my bottom lip trembled.

    “I always thought you hated me,” I admitted, ducking my head.

    Always.

    Back in high school and even now.

    When he ruffled my hair, I bit my cheek, trying not to cry.

    “You’re like an annoying little sister,” he chuckled, pinching my cheek.

    I puffed them out, blinking rapidly.

    “And I wouldn’t trust anybody more to do this with us,” he added, handing me a plate full of food.  I held it, noticing how delicious it smelled, how well put-together it was.  “Phil suggested we opt for another surrogate but I wouldn’t have it, you know.  I always knew you’d eventually come around.”

    “You knew I’d never keep a man,” I sniffled, giving a wry laugh.

    “I knew you were too good for a sap like George.”  The way he spat his name, the look of disgust on his face.  I giggled at the display and Theo quirked a smile.  “Go eat before it gets cold.”

    Turning, I froze when I realized Phil was already seated at the kitchen island.  He offered me a wide smile and, flustered, I realized he’d seen us interacting.  “Good morning,” he greeted me cheerfully.

    I bristled, noticing how Theo had tensed beside me.

    “Uh, good morning,” I mumbled, quickly taking the stool next to him.

    “I’m surprised your awake,” Theo said, dropping a plate full of food in front of Phil.  Phil gave him an obvious look of adoration and Theo looked kind of flustered, quickly moving back to the stove, away from us.

    I leaned into Phil’s side for comfort, hugging his arm.  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

    I gave a shy nod, peeking up at him.

    “Good,” he said, taking a bite of his bacon.  “That makes one of us.”

. . .

Phil wanted to go over the contract with me but Theo nixed that, simply handing me the paperwork and dragging his counterpart away.  “She’s a lawyer, she understands all of the legal jargon,” was what he’d said, ignoring Phil’s complaints.  “She doesn’t need our help.”

    I was thankful, in a way, that the men weren’t hovering over me like flies.

    I needed some space to process everything.

    To properly decide my next steps.

    The contract basically stated full legal parental rights to all three of us.  A three-way split custody.  The Blackwells, it said, would take full financial responsibility of the children which was just plain ridiculous.  Obviously I’m no deadbeat.

    Still, I understood why they would put that in there.

    Clearly, they were fully committed to this venture.

    Theodore was extremely thorough—it would be split custody but all parents were expected to be at all events regarding the child including but not limited to the child’s birth, holidays, and any future family events.  “Triangle parenting”, as we’d coined the phrase, would be three individuals fully invested in the children regardless of their personal relationships—just in case things went sour between us, I suppose.

    I couldn’t imagine Phil and Theo ever splitting ways so that arguably that made me the weakest link of the trio.  The one most likely to fall out of this arrangement.

    Drumming my fingers absently, I went through all of the finer details, hesitating at “living arrangements”.  It was separated in two sections—during the duration of the pregnancy and post-partum.

    They wanted me to live in their house while I was pregnant.

    Here.

    With them.

    Suddenly the large closet and fully furnished bathroom made sense.

    They’d planned on having me stay with them as a long-term arrangement.

    I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

    Honestly, I still wasn’t sure how I felt about just leaving my job.

    Moving states.

    It was a substantial . . . risk, right?  Wouldn’t that normally come with a number of risk factors?

    I had to figure out what those were so I fell back on an old, albeit good habit of mine.

    When I’m making any large decision, I make a T-diagram.  Picking up the pen on the desk, I noticed it was a really high-quality gloss black pen with the name “Blackwell” etched into it in gold.  Swallowing, I tried not to feel like I was walking into some kind of entrapment as I made my diagram.  It’s simple really—Pros on one side, Cons on the other.

    I listed the pros first since that seemed . . . easier.

    The first and most obvious was that I would finally have a child of my own.

    The second was that I would have two quality donors.  Regardless of whether it was Theodore or Phil offering the sample, the child would certainly be from good breeding.  Both men are healthy, handsome, and wildly successful in their career choices.

    Then there was the fact that I would never have to fear for our financial security, both men would make wonderful fathers and maintain a strong, healthy relationship worth mirroring—I just kept writing out the pros, all while trying to come up with a con.

    I would have to move back to Pittsburgh.

    I wrote it down in the con section, tapping the exquisite pen.

    Pittsburgh.

    “Your entire family is here, D.  We’re here.”  Theo’s words echoed around in my mind.

    I crossed that sentence off.

    Then I wrote:  I would have to deal with unemployment.

    But . . . I had a solid track record in law, tons of references.  This one hiccup with George wouldn’t set me back much and moving to Pittsburgh wouldn’t leave me without, even if it took a minute to readjust to being back in this state.

    I couldn’t help but think of what was said earlier in the day:  “I have no problem supporting any of your education or career endeavors here, in Pittsburgh.”

    Theodore Blackwell certainly had a way with reassurances.

    I crossed the unemployment statement off in one sweep.

    That wasn’t a real issue here, was it?

      Cons.

     I had to think about cons.

    Potential negatives in this scenario.

    A reason not to move forward with this plan.

    Any reason.

    Gnawing on my cheek nervously, I settled with:  Am I ready?