“Sounds like she’s never getting out of prison, ever, no matter what.” he lifted his glass. “A toast, then, to justice being served.”
I poured myself a drink, raising my glass. It was a worthy toast. Our glasses clinked, and we took a sip.
“You still look antsy. Anything else on your mind?”
Our server rescued me from having to answer just yet by bringing our order of tacos. “I’ll be right back with more salsa and some sour cream,” she said. “Would you like more guac as well?”
“Yes, please,” Mitch replied, already reaching for a taco.
I took one off the plate myself, trying to decide how to start this part of the conversation.
“I can practically see smoke pouring out of your ears from the wheels turning so hard. Just spit out whatever it is. You said it was nothing bad.”
“It isn’t,” I blurted out. “At least, I don’t think it is.”
“Go on then, what is it?’
“I love being a dad.”
Mitch went stock still. “Are you wanting to talk about us adopting another kid?”
“You know how I got a message to call that social worker?’
“Yeah…”
I took a deep breath. “Neal’s mom is about to have another baby and asked social services to find out if I’d adopt her so she and Neal could be raised together.”
“Her? It’s a girl?” Mitch's eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to process what he was hearing. “Wait, this is the woman who abused Neal?”
“Yes, that is why she’s not being allowed to keep this one either. She’s already voluntarily relinquished her rights, but when she did, she asked that they try to place the baby with me. I told them I had to speak with you first.”
“Of course we’re keeping that baby! She’s Neal’s sister. Oh, my god, we’re going to be dads again, this time to a newborn. I need audiobooks on how to raise a baby. We’ll need a crib!” he babbled. “Oh! We’ll need to take paternity leave and arrange daycare for when we go back!” He looked at me wild eyed. “When is she arriving? I need to know how much time we have to do all this and turn the spare room into a nursery!”
“I’d planned to order you a desk like the one at the inn and turn that into a study for you,” I confessed.
“I don’t need a desk, and we need that room for a nursery. Now, call her right now and tell them yes before they think we don’t want her.”
I dutifully tapped out a comm on my kunnarskyn for Xeranos to send out to the social worker’s private email which she’d given me.
“Done.”
“Good. Now, do we know when she’s due?”
“In eight weeks, give or take two weeks.”
“We’re going to be dads!” he crowed, and heads turned to stare, with congratulations peppering the air. Mitch blushed. “Shit, I didn’t mean to be quite that loud.” He grimaced. “I hope I don’t fuck this up.”
“You are a great Papa to Neal,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but he's older and easier. Babies are tinier and helpless and what if I drop her? Or barf because her poop is extra stinky!”
My heart sank. I had not thought of how tiny and completely fragile human infants were, not to mention potentially stinky, until right this moment.
“You’ll be fine.” our server said, returning with our condiments. And dinner’s on the house. Congrats, guys. You got this!”
Mitch took a deep breath and reached for my hand across the table. “We’ve got this. You’ll have my back, and I’ll have yours. And Neal is going to be the best big brother.”
His words were a statement, but I could sense the burning need he felt for me to confirm it would be so. I took his hand and squeezed it. “Yes. Together, we can do anything.”
