Ben reached for the third cup, lifted it to his lips, and downed the contents in four swallows.
“That’s my boy,” Calvin said. “Now, free your mind. Let yourselfbethe baby. You’re the baby, and you’re so thirsty. You just want a little beer. No, wait, you want toswimin the beer! Swimming is fun for babies. Swimming in beer? Yeah, sure, that’d be fun for anyone. You’re a littlebaby, and you want to go swimming in the—”
“That’s not helpful.” Ben straightened, the plastic baby gripped securely but lightly in his hand. He looked down the table. Seth, making some truly ridiculous faces, and Liam, so calm, so cool, so fuckingperfectall the time.
Ben took a deep breath, stared Liam straight in the eyes, and tossed the baby. He didn’t even smile as he heard theplop.
Seth was quick, though, pulling up the cup and starting to drink before Calvin had a chance to even try for a death cup.
And Liam was still looking at Ben. Ben was still looking back. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. At least, it wouldn’t have been if they hadn’t had an audience.
Theclickof Calvin’s baby hitting the table barely registered.
But it was impossible to tune out Calvin’s overlydramatic groan, the way he clutched Ben’s arm in despair and slumped toward the ground….
“We’re going to need to work out a signal for if you ever have an actual heart attack,” Ben told him. “Especially after last weekend. Otherwise you’ll be gasping in real pain and I’ll just ignore you.”
“Ihavereal pain! Did you see how close that shot was?”
By the time Ben looked back at Liam, the momentwas over, and Liam didn’t make eye contact again for the rest of the game. Which he and Seth won easily.
There was a brief stretch of peace after that while Calvin marshaled a round of pin-the-fetus-on-the-uterus, and Ben took advantage of the chance to go to the bathroom. After he peed out at least some of the beer, he washed his hands and splashed water on his face. He did a few of his deepbreaths, trying to get rid of the orange-pink-yellow swirl of Liam and replace it with some nice, calming blue, but someone banged on the door partway through and the whole exercise fell apart.
There was another event, players racing to be the fastest to drink a beer from a baby bottle without using their hands, and Liam was at his competitive best, throwing himself down on the ground and holdingthe bottle with his feet without any apparent self-consciousness. Ben went back into the house and made his guesses for all the stupid games in there, trying not to think about how flexible Liam still was, how he frowned in exactly the same way he used to when he was concentrating on something, working toward something… sucking on something….
Ben pulled another beer out of the fridge and rubbedthe cool glass over his face before opening the bottle. He didn’t really need more alcohol, but he was going to have some anyway.
He was in the yard talking to the mayor, Mack Cleese, having trouble with the conversation because, as usual, all he could think wasdon’t call him Mayor McCheese to his face, don’t call him Mayor McCheese to his face, when he heard Calvin calling his name.
“Strollerrace is about to start! You should come see this!”
Ben wasn’t sure why he was being singled out for a special invitation, not until he got closer to the starting line and saw the teams. Fairly innocuous for the most part, but Liam was at the end of one line, Kevin at the other. They were both anchors for their teams; they’d be going head-to-head for the win.
What the hell had Calvin been thinkingwhen he set all this up? Maybe he reallywasBen’s nemesis.
Ben found his way to Kevin’s side while Calvin explained the rules with typical glee. Each participant had to get the stroller through the obstacle course without touching the unstrapped-in baby doll or letting it fall out. They were only allowed to touch the stroller on the handle, not grab hold of the two ends and carry it. Not sophisticated,but clear enough. Then Calvin added, “And you have to chug a beverage at the far end before you race back and hand off the stroller.”
Kevin frowned and looked toward Ben as if—what? Asking permission? Ben was pretty sure he didn’t grant it, but Kevin turned around anyway and said, “I’m not comfortable with that part of the race. I don’t think it’s a good idea to encourage alcohol consumptionas if it’s some sort of sport.”
And Ben agreed with him, mostly.
Calvin just looked confused. “Abeverage,” he said. “There’s an assortment down there. Beer, soft drinks, fizzy water—I made them all carbonated, to be fair. But I’m not sure why you’d jump to the conclusion that they’re all alcoholic.”
It had been a trap, obviously. Calvin had set Kevin up with the beer baby and baby-bottle race,made it seem like the same pattern was repeating, and acted innocent when Kevin made the logical assumption. Typical Calvin. But why was he doing it?
Not that Calvin ever really needed a “why” for his shenanigans. Personal entertainment was always reason enough. But with the whole party to plan, the guests to fuss over, the games—therealgames, not his twisted extras—why would he bother withKevin now?
And why had he invited Liam?
It was hard to believe that the two decisions weren’t connected, but what on earth was Calvin trying to prove? What decision was he trying to make on Ben’s behalf? And why the hell did he think it was his place to do… whatever the hell he was doing?
Ben reached for Kevin’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Thanks for asking about that,” he said,loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re right—drinking alcohol like it’s a sport is pretty unhealthy and immature.”
Kevin’s surprise was clear enough to make Ben feel guilty. Apparently his date—his boyfriend—hadn’t expected any support. But he’d still had the courage to speak up and express his opinion. An opinion that Ben agreed with. Mostly.
“You’re a good guy,” Ben said, more quietly thistime, so only Kevin could hear. “A really decent human being.”
Kevin smiled. “I try to be,” he agreed.
