To Build a Home

30 | Threesome

I tiptoed quietly down the second-floor hallway, past Noah's bedroom, and snuck into the master where Darren was waiting for me, sprawled out naked on the bed with a thin sheet covering his crotch like a white satin banana leaf. It was a little after eight and we had just tucked Noah in twenty minutes before, the door still open and the colors of the nightlight floating around the room as he snored. We had decided to wait to let him see anything out of the ordinary––like Darren and I sharing the king-size bed––not until we had time to figure everything out. So we had waited for Noah to fall asleep on opposite sides of the house before sneaking to be together like star-crossed lovers in a teen romance.

"It doesn't bother you anymore?" Darren asked, stroking my hair as I rested my head on his chest and looked around at the room, still full of boxes of Phil's and Theresa's things.

"The room? Somehow it feels different," I said. I turned my face to his and kissed him just to remind myself that this was real. Darren Reynolds and I were sharing a bed––and not in some only-one-bed-left-at-overnight-camp fantasy situation, but real, in the flesh, sharing. There was no pillow wall between us and we didn't lay back to back. I pulled him closer.

Darren was no longer timid around my body. He flipped me over and kissed the back of my neck and then dragged his wet tongue up and down my spine. I shivered from the sensation. He flipped me over again and said, "I want to look at you." And he did. For what seemed like forever he pulsed into me and kissed me and looked at me––all of me. We didn't have the same abandon as when we were alone at the cottage in the middle of the woods, no wild screams of ecstasy or romantic whispers of our names, but this felt more real––quietly making love in our warm bed so as not to wake the baby.

We fought sleep after collapsing with exhaustion in each other's arms. "I should go back to my room," I said, without moving.

"One more minute," Darren replied.

"He can't find me here," I said, knowing Noah might make his way into the master in a few hours, still sleepwalking with the hope of finding his parents in their room.

Every time I tried to sneak away, Darren would pull me back into his arms. We talked about the business and the cottage, Sadie and going back to Trinkle's. I told him about the show Cynthia wanted to plan and how I needed to take more photos, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to. Painting had been my life for almost a decade. Was it all a waste of time? Darren told me about his dream of going to college, though it never seemed like the right time. There was so much we didn't know about each other even though we had spent our childhoods together. We were making up for lost time.

It wasn't long before we drifted off to sleep, comfortably twisted into each other like a warm, baking pretzel. I don't know how long I was out, but I woke to the sound of Noah's voice calling my name at the side of the bed. "Ry-Ry. Ry-Ry," he said over and over. I shook Darren awake.

"Hey, No," I said, softly, sitting up under the blanket. "What are you doing awake?"

"Up!" He held his arms up for me to lift him into the bed.

"One second, No." I shook Darren again.

"What's going on?" he asked, turning over and opening one eye.

"Put your underwear on," I laughed, trying to find them somewhere under the sheets.

Darren looked over my lap to see Noah on the floor next to me. He sat up and joined me in the shuffle to find our underwear, tangled somewhere with the blanket at our feet. Darren found mine first and brushed them further away from me, laughing as I struggled to reach. He blocked me with his arm, still fishing for his own underwear with his other. All the while Noah continued to call to us, "Up, up, up!"

Finally, Darren found his white briefs, but instead of putting them on, he tossed them to me. I was confused until he slipped on my black briefs with a goofy smile. "What's mine is yours." Without another word, he stole a quick kiss, planting it right on my neck where the wound had practically healed, and then climbed over me and swooped up the toddler, who cheered.

"Darren," I said, as he got comfortable under the blanket and I put his underwear on, Noah in between us. He ignored me. "Darren," I said again. "I thought we weren't doing this yet."

"It's fine," he said, already half asleep.

I looked down at Noah, cuddling between us, his hair staticky on the sheets. And then at Darren, on his back, eyes closed and arms spread, not a care in the world. I wanted to be okay with it, to forget everything we had discussed in the kitchen about taking our time and letting Noah––and ourselves––adjust. It would be easy to just throw it all away and be happy––god knows we all deserved it. But Noah needed stability and it was my job as his guardian to provide that, to make decisions and stick to them, no matter how difficult it was––and god was it difficult, looking at their sleeping faces and not tucking myself in with this tiny family I had found, our trio, my favorite people in the world.

I started to doze off as I thought about it, but shook myself awake. I quietly got out of the bed and carried Noah to his room in the dark, the nightlight still circulating when I put him into bed. I kissed him on the forehead and instead of returning to the master, I closed the door and went back to the guest room alone. When I woke a couple of hours later, the morning sun shining through the thin white curtains, Darren was asleep at my side.

Over breakfast, I ignored him, plopping pancakes onto everyone's plates and speaking only to Noah as I showered his short stack with syrup from high in the air. I don't think Darren noticed, sipping his hot coffee and enjoying the sticky show just as much as the toddler. While it was a wonderful surprise to find him in my bed that morning, I was angry that he had ignored my wishes and the plan that we had formed together. If this was any indication of how things were going to go as a couple––and I know we hadn't even gotten that far yet––then maybe it was better to quit while we were ahead.

Instead of eating, I stood over the stove and waited for the tea kettle to whistle. After a few failed attempts to get my attention between bites of his breakfast, Darren met me at the stove. Noah was in his high chair at the table, his back to us, slamming his hands into his tray for no apparent reason as he chewed.

"What's up?" Darren asked. He put his arm around my waist and leaned in for a kiss.

I backed away and was grateful for the perfect timing of the tea kettle. It whistled and I took it off the stove to pour the hot water into a mug. Darren waited for a response and I avoided looking at him.

"What's going on?" He reached for me again.

"This. This!" I said. I pointed to his hand reaching for me and then at Noah. "We talked about this. We were going to wait." I slammed the tea kettle back onto the stove and a few drops of scalding water sprinkled onto my hand. I pulled it back and yelped. I raced to the sink and placed my hand under cold running water. I stared out the window at the backyard as the burns cooled.

Darren reached for my hand to help, but then hesitated. He backed away, realizing he was still doing it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I got carried away. It just feels so right."

I looked between Darren and Noah and I couldn't help but agree. It had taken us so long to get there that I just wanted to fold into him and start our lives together in that very kitchen, breakfast and coffee and tea every morning, just us three. But we had to think about Noah.

I filled the space between us and stole one last kiss behind the baby. We smiled. "Give it time," I said. I sat at the opposite end of the table with my mug and my cold, wet hand. "Stick to your side, Mr. Reynolds," I said when Darren sat down at the table with a mischievous smile. Noah cheered. And then we ate.

Author's Note: I can't believe we're already at chapter 30!!!!! Thanks for sticking around.

Do you think Ryan was right to be mad at Darren?