Drabble: The More Things Change, The More They Remain The Same
Time stood still for no man. Mark knew this better than anyone. But for a while, his and Ric’s complicated little lives had settled down. It had been a year since the wedding, and things had settled down into a nice routine. Ric went to work and brought home the bacon, while Mark stayed at home to watch over their daughter when he wasn’t busy losing another job due to his unique personality. The newest addition was Ophelia, who had moved in on permanent basis. Lucia was delighted to have “Tia ‘Phe” staying with them, and Ophelia was just happy to be surrounded by the loving feelings in the home. Things were looking up, but as always, when things got too quiet, life threw a monkey wrench into the works.
It started one morning when Mark was sitting down a late morning breakfast. Ric had already left for the day, and Lucia watching one of those supposedly educational video for toddlers that would help their brains grow. Ophelia came into the kitchen, smiling as brightly as the heart painted under her cheek. She came straight over and hugged Mark tightly. For such a tiny waif, she had a very firm grip. “Greetings and salutations, Straight-Up-With-A-Twist.
“Good morning, my noblewoman. Why so happy? Whose feelings did you store up today?” Martini couldn’t be bothered to try and reply to her in rhyme before he’d gotten a chance to eat just yet.
She shook her head, seemingly glowing with how much joy she had within her. “Not a one today, this comes from Ophelia wanting to play.”
That caught Mark’s attention. Turning around in his chair, and facing Ophelia with a question in his eyes, his forehead wrinkled up in puzzlement. “You mean you feel happy on your own? But how?” Never in all the time had he known her had Ophelia been able to get back her own emotions instead of absorbing them.
Beaming happily, she took one of his larger, slightly scarred hands in her own small pale ones, and placed it on her stomach. “It’s the little one that makes her smile so bright, and seeing the father who provided her new joyous light.”
Mark’s mouth dropped open in shock, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten. “Father? Wha?!”
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Several hours later…..
Ric arrived home to a very quiet house. Lucia was having her late afternoon nap, and the other two were nowhere to be seen. Going out to the back of the house, he found Mark sitting on the step, absentmindedly drinking a beer. He seemed to have something on his mind, and nearly jumped when Ric put a hand on his shoulder. Martini had already jumped up halfway before he realized who it was. “Jesus! Ric, you scared me!”
“Lo siento Mark. Que pasa?”
Mark sat back down, shaking his head as he stared out across the pool. “It’s nothing.”
Ric placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder, feeling the tension there and the little hitch in Martini’s words. He knew him well enough to know that this wasn’t anything. “C’mon, tell me. I won’t be mad if you set the rug on fire again. Promise.”
That elicited a small smile from Mark, but it flitted across his face and then was gone. “It’s Ophelia.”
Alarm bells immediately went off in Ric’s head. All sorts of scenarios were running through his head, and none of them ended pleasantly. “What’s wrong? Is she alright?”
“No, everything’s fine. She’s…..” Mark sighed, fingers running through his hair. “Ric, she’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant?!” Ric looked clearly dumbfounded “How the hell did-” A certain rather hazy drunken night of revelry about a month back came to mind, one that had ended with the three of them curled up in the bed together. “Oh. So, uh, which one of us is the father?”
Mark shrugged. “Fuck if I know.” His shoulders slumped down, his chin coming rest on his upturned fists, with his eyes cast to the ground.
Pushing his own elation at having another child aside for a moment, Ric began to pick up on the fact that this wasn’t being received as potentially great news by Mark. He’d always known Martini didn’t really want children, but had never pressed the issue. Then with the addition of Lucia to their family, he thought that the matter had finally been put to rest. But it appeared not. Sliding down to sit beside Mark, he wrapped his arms around his newly made husband. “What’s wrong, Loco?”
Mark sighed, and leaned into Ric’s touch. “I’m happy, really I am. But…” He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn’t find the words to express what he felt.
Julio nudged him gently, patiently waiting for Martini to figure out what he wanted to say. “Pero, por que?”
Martini sighed heavily. “I just don’t wanna screw up. How the hell am I, of all people, supposed to take care of a kid? I can barely take care of myself on a good day. I managed to set the fucking rug on fire! I can’t-” He managed to swallow the lump constricting his throat and making it hard to breathe. “How am I supposed to do this?”
He listened patiently, toying around with the wedding band around his finger, but at the end of Mark’s tirade, he took his face in both of his hands. “Look at me.” Martini hated to make eye contact most of the time, but at Ric’s request he met the gaze of the deep brown eyes with his own dark green stare for a moment. “Look. It’s okay to be freaked out. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing half the time after Lucia just showed up on our doorstep. If it hadn’t been for Mama V, I don’t know what I would have done. And listen, you, what’s with all this me, me, me crap? You’ve got a partner here to help you out, you know. And we both have my mama to turn to when we both manage to screw things up. Besides, you only set the rug on fire once. And we seem to be doing a good job with Lucia so far.”
“But what if all that was just a fluke? A one off, lucky kid who just so happened to be an angel?”
“Then our children will obviously run away and join the circus the moment they can.”
“Riiiiiic…..”
“Hey, we’ve already got the most important part down. We love them.”
Mark opened his mouth to protest, but really, there was no denying that bit of logic. He gave Ric a soft kiss on the mouth, his way of saying thank you, for putting up with Martini’s jitters and nerves. He then handed his almost forgotten beer over to Julio. “I need to go clean up the kitchen.”
Ric took a swig out of the bottle. “Oh? What happened?”
Martini looked sheepish. “Well, I might have freaked out a little itty bit and sortadestroyedhalfthekitchenwhenIfoundoutOpheliawaspregnant. But its okay, she sent like this giant wave of calm at me before I could wreck it too bad. Uh, so yeah, I’ll just go and clean it all up.” Mark zipped away using his time manipulation before Ric could say anything else.
“Huh? You wrecked the- Mark! Get back here right now and explain yourself! Maaaaaark!”
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Three months later…..
After Mark’s one little freak out over finding out Ophelia was pregnant, he’d become much warmer to the idea. So much, in fact, that he had maxed out Ric’s credit card before he was satisfied with decorating the nursery. It had been made suitably gender-neutral, with a nice ocean theme, and enough toys, Ric thought, to keep the little one occupied until he or she went away to college. Since Ric had confiscated all other monetary assets, Martini had become fixated on the idea of names, and driving his lover insane by coming up with new ideas at all hours of the day and night.
He randomly sprang yet another idea on Ric one night as they were lying in bed. “Well, if it’s a boy, we have to give him a name that starts with the letter M.”
“Why?”
“Family tradition. My name is Mark Martinez, my father’s name was Marcus Martinez, my grandfather’s name was-“
“Okay, I think I get it.”
“No, wait, you’ll get a kick out of this last one. My grandfather’s name was Martin Martinez.”
Ric just blinked for a moment, wondering if Mark was serious. “…..You gotta be kidding me.”
Mark just shrugged. “I wish I was. Apparently it didn’t sound too bad in Spanish, with the accent and all, but when the Americanos started Anglicizing it, people started snickering.”
“I can see why,” Ric said dryly.
Mark just whacked him on the back of the head. “The point is, if it’s a boy, he’s getting a name that starts with M.”
“Sure sure.” Ric yawned, reaching over and turning out the light on the nightstand. “Now let me sleep, Tiempo Loco. As he lay there, instinctively seeking out and pressing out against the warmth of Mark’s body, a sudden thought occurred to him, and he voiced it. “But what if it’s a girl?”
Though it was dark, he could practically see Martini grinning like a maniac. “Oh, that’s simple. Something Shakespearean, to take after Ophelia. I think she’d like that. Something like Juliet, or maybe Viola? What do you think about Cordelia?”
Rictor groaned as his husband happily prattled on and on. After a good fifteen minutes with no signs of stopping, he tossed a pillow at Mark in the dark, and was gratified to hear a loud Whump! as it hit its intended target. He chuckled, rolled over, and fell asleep.
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Three months later……
Life had become a jumble of extremes. It was either bliss or insanity, with no in-between.
One day, Mark heard singing coming from somewhere in the house as he came in after a swim. Towel drying his hair, he followed the sounds as they drifted through the house. Approaching the nursery, he heard Ophelia singing one of her songs, and caught the tail end of it. “…..What if I'm the kindest demon, something you may not believe in, What if I'm a siren singing gentlemen to sleep, sleep….sleep…”
He gave a gentle knock on the door. “It’s been a while since I heard you sing, nice to hear your voice once again ring.” Mark wasn’t prepared for the sudden wave of happiness that washed over him when Ophelia caught sight of him.
It was very light and bubbly, like champagne, and Ophelia’s arms draped around him as she nuzzled his neck. “The little one is so very content; it gives Ophelia so much joy to rent.” Her mood turning mischievous, she reached around and groped Mark’s ass.
“‘Phe,” Mark winked at her, flicking water droplets out of his hair. “It’s behavior like that that got you into the present circumstance.” He amended the statement. “Well, that and enough liquor to fill the swimming pool with.”
She shrugged. “One, two, three, four, she wouldn’t mind having a few more.”
“More?” Mark looked amazed. “Let’s see if you still feel that way after going through labor.”
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On the other hand, one day Ric came home to find the house looking like a tornado had gone through it. Going out into the backyard, he found Lucia playing in the dirt by the rosebushes. She let out a squeal of delight upon seeing her father. “Pick me up! Pick me up!” The little one demanded.
Of course Ric gave in, getting his shirt covered in muddy handprints. “Mija, what are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be taking a nap.”
Lucia wriggled around in his grasp to get more comfortable. “Tia ‘Phe doesn’t feel nice. She’s all mad. Daddy said to go play ‘till she felt better.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Setting Lucia back down and leaving her to play, he headed over to the pool, where Martini was busy sunning himself. “Explain just what happened with Ophelia.”
Mark looked up in annoyance, as Ric was blocking his light. “Nothing to explain. She got into this weird mood, and went completely whacko. When I tried to calm her down, she blasted me with this crazy ass wave of emotions. No way am I going back in there.”
“She can’t be that bad.” Martini just shot Ric a dubious look. “Well, maybe she is, but I’m sure I can calm her down.”
Mark just grunted and rolled onto his back, to make sure he was baking evenly. “Your funeral.” He watched as Ric headed back to the funeral. “And in three…..two…..one….” The sounds of yelling could be heard for a few moments, then a crashing sound, then a loud Thump! Mark sighed, and walked over to the house. Ophelia was nowhere to be seen, but Julio had been knocked flat onto his back. “She hit you with that wave of emotions, didn’t she?” Ric couldn’t answer, just lying there in a twitching bundle, resembling a rabbit that had run into an electric fence. Martini helped him back to his feet, though Rictor still appeared to be in a mild state of shock. “I did try to warn you. Walk it off, dude. Walk it off.”
As Julio obeyed, Mark said, “I think now might be the time to suggest a home delivery? If that’s what she could do right now, there’s no way in hell we can put ‘Phe into a hospital, with that many people around in pain. Whaddya think?”
Ric turned and nodded, the emotional overload beginning to wear off. “Okay. But I am staying far, far away during labor. Okay?”
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A note, found on the fridge one morning in the kitchen:
Dear Mama V,
I’m being held hostage by a schizophrenic insomniac, a hormonal pregnant woman, and a child empress. Help.
~Julio.
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And, once again, three months later…..
Mark was pacing back and forth, looking like he was going to wear a hole in the carpet, every inch the nervous father. Julio was much calmer, and was sitting on the couch. The only outward sign that not all was well with him was the fact he was smoking like a chimney. Finally Martini plopped down onto the catch next to Ric with a sigh. Ric held out his packet of cigarettes. “You know I don’t smoke.”
“No better time to start,” Julio said.
Mark was about to protest when an overwhelming sense of pain encompassed them both. Ophelia had, surprisingly, kept the emotional outpour to a minimum. But even so, every time she felt a particularly bad jolt of pain, both Ric and Mark could feel it too. “On second thought, hand ‘em over.”
Several hours later, the midwife they had hired came downstairs, looking tired but triumphant. Ric had fallen asleep with his head in Mark’s lap, and after gentle nudging failed to wake his partner up, he thumped him on the head with a pillow. With a muffled yell, he woke up and glared at Martini, but quieted back down when he saw the midwife. She uttered the words that fathers all over the world had heard since the beginning of time. “It’s a boy.”
The next few minutes were a bit hazy, as if Mark was walking through a dream, save for one very clear image. He’d somehow ended up in the bedroom, and Ophelia was lying there, damp curls plastered to her head. There was a small bundle wrapped up smugly in her arms. She gave it to him without a word, just a small, knowing smile on her lips. He took the tiny bundle timidly, as if afraid his son might break into a thousand pieces of china. He looked down at the baby, knowing that his son was absolutely the most perfect and beautiful child in the entire world, sleeping peacefully. “Hi there,” Mark whispered. At the sound of his voice, his son opened his eyes. They were the exact same shade of jade green as his own. “I’m your Daddy. And your name is Mercutio Ricardo Martinez.” It is said that babies that young can’t smile yet. But Mark swore until his dying day that Mercutio’s tiny face scrunched up into littlest smile Mark had ever seen in his life.