Family Be Mine

“So if he’s afraid of men, why is he so fond of you? Oh, I forgot, it’s your naturally unthreatening charm.”

“What’s that?” The sound of the vacuum cleaner filled the small space.

“I was just commenting on your wimpiness,” Ben shouted.

“You can’t rile me,” Hunt yelled back. “I’m perfectly secure in my manhood. Witness my confident manner with the vacuum cleaner.” He pushed it toward Ben and caught the ragged edge of an ancient Oriental rug, causing the machine to grab. The noise changed to a desperate high-pitched gurgle, like blackbirds swarming in an air-conditioning vent.

Fred jumped back, cowering behind Ben’s leg.

Hunt tried pulling the vacuum away, but that only made the machine grip harder.

“Turn the damn thing off,” Ben shouted.

“What?”

Ben stood up and stepped on the power button. “I said,” he still shouted before realizing it wasn’t necessary. “Sorry,” he lowered his voice.

Fred inched forward and bravely inspected the vacuum. There was a faint burning smell.

Hunt crouched down and worked the rug free from the bottom of the vacuum.

Fred nudged his thigh.

“It’s okay, boy.” He fondled the dog’s ear.

The puppy lifted a hind leg and scratched at his belly. The three paws remaining on the wood floor immediately splayed out from under him. His belly plopped on the floor. He looked up at Hunt and over to Ben, seemingly proud, as if that was what he meant to do all along.

Hunt laughed. Fred was good for making him laugh. Not much else did these days. Then he stood and looked forlornly at the vacuum. “Well, if I proved one thing, it’s that even though my virility may be intact, I’m nowhere near as competent as the average woman.”

As soon as he’d said the words, Hunt felt the stirrings in his libido. Until he caught sight of his water aerobics partner he wasn’t all that convinced that his loss of sexual desire was a temporary side effect of his chemo as his oncologist had assured him. But, aah, the miracle of a teeny-tiny electric-orange bikini, he thought with a smile.

“Now that we’ve got that straight, I declare the job done,” Ben announced. He passed the dog’s leash to Hunt and unplugged the vacuum. “So, tell me, how did that aerobics class go?”

Hunt blinked. Had his friend been reading his mind?

“I know I kind of backed you into it, and for once, I was actually feeling a bit guilty.” Ben searched around the end of the vacuum, trying to figure out how to push the cord back in its hole. Brute force didn’t appear to be the answer. “Did it work out okay?”

“Well, it was wet and completely embarrassing, so I hope that makes you feel even more guilty.”

“So who did they match you up with then?” Ben glanced up. “There must be some way to push the cord back in, don’t you think?”

“You knew about the whole partner bit?”

“I suppose I might as well come clean. I wasn’t sure you’d go through with it if you knew it required close personal contact with a stranger. So who was it? Some old man recovering from angioplasty?”

“No, actually it was a woman, about thirty maybe.”

Ben dropped the cord, raised his hands and stood up.

“I’m done.” He faced Hunt. “So what was she recovering from?”

Hunt frowned. “I’d say recovery is not quite the right word.”

Fred tiptoed tentatively toward the vacuum. He put his nose down by the exhaust and sniffed.

Ben frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s pregnant, bro.”

“Pregnant? So where’s the father?”

Fred slumped down on his belly and began gnawing on a corner of the plastic casing.

“Apparently not in the picture.” Hunt stared off, not focusing on anything in particular. “What is it about fathers and their children, anyway?”

Ben growled.

Hunt quickly explained. “No, man. You didn’t even know that Matt existed until last year. I was just commenting on the sorry state of affairs in general. I mean, you never even knew your father. Mine barely acknowledged my existence. My most vivid memory of him is not his face, but this big black Cadillac driving away. When he died while I was still young, I realized I didn’t miss my father, but that shiny limousine was another matter.”

“If it will make you feel any better, I’ll buy you a set of whitewalls on eBay,” Ben said.

Hunt smiled. “Spoken like a true friend and, I must admit, a good father.”

“Tell that to Matt.”

“No, Matt knows you’ll always be there for him,” Hunt said. The way you were always there for me through cancer, Hunt could have said, but being a guy, he didn’t. When it came down to it, he really wasn’t New Agey after all, just his stiff-upper-lip mother’s son.

“So what’s with this woman’s husband then? How come he’s not there doing squat thrusts or jumping jacks or whatever it is you do in the shallow end?”

“Some of us have already chosen to do underwater jogging in the deep end with floaties.”

“Floaties?”

“A technical term. I’ll enlighten you later,” Hunt said.

“Anyway, as to the lady in question, my partner—” the term sounded strange but surprisingly not unwelcome “—from what she said, I’m not sure if there was ever one on the scene.”

Ben whistled. “An unwed mother, huh?”

“Single parent is the politically correct term these days,” Hunt corrected.

Fred turned his head and mouthed furiously on a button along the bottom edge by the left rear wheel.

“There didn’t have to be a guy, you know. It could have been a sperm bank donor,” Ben suggested hypothetically.

“Who knows? She made it pretty clear she wasn’t into men,” Hunt replied.

“She’s gay?” Ben asked.