I need your help! I wrote alternate endings to the gender reveal party. Please comment and let me know which ending you like best. Thanks! And as always, you guys are the best! xox
The cake is taunting me. A tower of four gigantic frosted baby blocks stacked on top of each other—two pink, two blue, and each with a question mark at their center—sits on a table in the garden that's got so many pink and blue balloons tied to it, I'm surprised it doesn't take flight. Though, the cake probably weighs it down. How do those blocks stay upright stacked like that? I'm almost afraid to cut into it for fear of toppling Rome. I observe the team getting things ready for the party through the blinds at the window in my study. I'm not supposed to be peeking, but I can't resist. It's bad enough not knowing the color of that cake, but to not be in charge of the party is literally hell.
Kavanagh is running around snarking out orders at some poor saps carrying chairs and table linens—pink and blue, of course. She really thought out of the box on the color scheme. I can't hear anything in particular, just the annoying buzz emanating from her mouth and the terror on the men's faces. It's like that of a bee, only when it stings you it doesn't die. It turns into a zombie and eats at your brain forever.
"Daddy, Daddy!" the kids say as they rush in, stealing me away from my stare through the slats. They never knock. But, they know they don't have to. My one rule for when I work at home is that my office door is never locked.
"Well, don't you two look adorable," I say as they run to me.
"I don't think so, I'm wearing pink short pants!" Teddy says in outrage, pointing to his pants that his baby blue button up shirt is untucking from. "Why do I gotta wear pink?"
"Because pink is the bestest color that the Rainbow Man ever 'vented!" Phoebe says and gives him a look like she's gonna clock him if he says different.
"Is that like a leprechaun?" I ask.
"No, he's the one the biggest most importantest fairy touched on the nose with her twinkle stick and said 'you must make the colors of everything and put the smile on the sun.'" She mimics a CEO Fairy well.
"Well she chose the right man for the job," I say. "And today, while everyone else wears blue or pink for their guesses, you two are wearing both colors so the babies will see their big brother and big sister are happy either way." I work to re-tuck Teddy's shirt into his pants and straighten him up. He's got some food on his sleeve. I have to pull a handkerchief out from my pocket and wipe him down. I swear, this child goes from zero to dirty in less than sixty seconds.
"But, what if I want turtles?" Teddy asks. "Can't I wear green pants over the pink for turtles?"
"For the last time, there's no chance of your mother having turtles." I ruffle his hair and give him a kiss on the head.
"Isn't my dress pretty, Daddy?" Phoebe asks and twirls. She's wearing a pink gingham sundress with a powder blue sweater, and the pink diamond tiara I gave her adorns her head.
My princess.
"Yes, but not as pretty as the girl wearing it!" I say and she giggles just like Ana. She's such the little lady now. And just yesterday she was the baby girl they placed in my arms. I was so afraid because I knew nothing about little girls. She taught me everything.
"I wore the blue sweater, so when we find out it's my sisters I could take it off and be all pink again," she says.
"And if it's brothers?" I ask.
"I never thought like that." Oh Lord, I hope it's girls for her sake.
Phoebe runs to my chair and sits, pushes off from the desk and starts swiveling around like it's a ride at an amusement park.
"Daddy, how does the cake tell us what the babies are? Is it like a genie?" Phoebe asks, still spinning. How does she not get dizzy?
"Yeah, why does the cake know before us?" Teddy asks.
Good question.
"The fairy godmother kept it a secret and baked the right color into it so we could have a party."
"Really?" Phoebe stops spinning, eyes wide and full of wonder. I nod. "I didn't know she could cook so good."
"Phoebe, where's Chester?" I ask.
She opens her little basket purse she set on the desk and the furball pops out—a cracker in hand and crumbs on mouth— all decked out in his blinding pink glitter top hat and coat tails with the blue satin pants. He looks like what would happen if Uncle Sam had a drunken one night stand with Valentine's Day and they bore a Broadway show.
"I see he took my advice on the outfit," I say, as Chester stands on his hind legs and spits a few hamster obscenities laced with cracker a la Ritz my way.
"Yeah, but he choosed his shoes by himself."
I look down at his back feet. "Gold high top sneakers, lovely selection." I think they have lifts. That rodent is always trying to be taller.
"Kids, Grandma Carla and Grandma Grace want to see your outfits," Ana says, entering the room.
"My parents are here already?" I ask.
"Yeah, your mom said she wanted to spend some quality time with my mom before the party started. They're in the family room." Oh Lord, hide the tequila.
"Yay!" the kids holler as Phoebe grabs Chester-in-the-basket and they run out of the room.
"Don't run! You'll slip on the marble and crack multiple somethings!" I yell. I say it every time, but they just keep on running.
I take a good look at Ana. She's a goddess. The tight white capri pants that cup her ass just right—like a peach that's all juicy nectar— are tightening my own. Her hair is flowing like a goddess over her shoulders and I can smell the meadow flower shampoo I like so much. And her breasts. Lord, her mama melon breasts! Sweet, sweet honeydews in that v-neck shirt that clings to them and pops her cleavage forward, invitingly, and my cock is moving to RSVP yes, ma'am for the celebration.
"I don't know if I can go to the party. I may have have to go to the hospital," I say.
"Why, what's wrong?" Ana asks.
"You're killing me in that outfit, Mrs. Grey." I move to my wife and she leans up to give me a sweet kiss.
"I'm just wearing a t-shirt."
"Yes, and I'm going to need to peel you out of this later," I say as I trace the v of her cleavage with a finger and then brush it against her nipple.
"You'll have to tie me up before I'll let you." She bites that delicious lip.
Damn.
"Tell you what..." I wrap my arms around her and pull her as close to me as her belly will allow. "I'll promise to do that at Escala tonight, if you let me take this off of you now so we can have some quick fun before we get ready."
"I am ready."
"For fun?" I lean in and nibble at her ear.
"For the party. This is my outfit."
"What?" I take a step back and look at her tits—I mean her shirt. Although I'm enjoying the view, her heaving bosom is far too on display for other penises to witness in a garden party situation. I don't care if they're our family. And there's writing across her chest: Boys or Girls Beneath the Bump?. What the fuck? Why is the word Girls stretched across her breasts within an inch of its life? All I see are nipples poking through on the far sides of i and the l. "No, you're not wearing that shirt!"
"I thought you liked it."
"For me, not the masses."
"It's part of my party outfit."
"But, your breasts, Ana."
"What's wrong with them?" She looks down at her rack. Quite the view.
"It's what's entirely too right with them that's the problem." I suddenly get this terrible vision of her excited after we find out, jumping around and them falling out for the photographer to capture for his secret files.
"Christian, I'm pregnant." She shakes her head. "No one is lusting after me."
"Ha! Want me to make a list?"
"Christian, they're our family!"
"And the photographer!" I say. "I don't care how many holidays he's hitched himself to, he's still a predator.
"Christian, the last time he tried anything was the first time he tried anything—almost eight years ago!"
"Well, he's patient. He's used to waiting around in nature for lizards to pop out so he can fire his flash." She laughs. "Why can't you wear one of your nice Prada dresses buttoned up to the neck with a light scarf?"
"Because we have to wear our party shirts."
"No we don't— wait. What do you mean, we?
"Here. This is for you to wear." Ana hands me a t-shirt she's been holding, but I never realized it because it wasn't in the vicinity of ass or tits or flowing hair.
"I'm not wearing this—" I look at the thing and read: The Man Behind the Bump: Princes or Princesses?. Wait, actually that's not so bad. It's like an announcement to the world that I'm the King who knocked up the Queen and got a royal pair. "Okay, if you insist. But, on one condition—I need to ensure you don't have a wardrobe malfunction."
#######
"Ana, why are the shoulders to your shirt safety pinned up?" Kavanagh asks, looking at the job I did to ensure the neckline never gets too low.
"Because it kept slipping," I say. "Why are you wearing yellow?" She really is a killer bee.
"Because I know the truth. I'm neutral."
"I thought that was Elliot," I say.
"Elliot?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you said neutered."
"Christian!" Ana says and swats my shoulder. "Come on, Kate, let's grab some food." She hooks her arm and they scamper off like school girls.
Wait. Is my hearing going or did a choir of angels just sing a hallelujah chorus in my ears? Ana wants food! Even if it is with the devil, it's a miracle.
"I think it's going to be girls," my mother proclaims, wearing this frilly pink chiffon blouse and knee length white flouncy skirt. She's nursing the signature "girls drink" for the event—a bubblegum pink cosmopolitan called the Mama Martini— with Carla. Fitting. Carla's wearing a similar ensemble, though a slightly more floozy version. Did they plan this sorority girl act? They look like they're waiting on the gentleman callers to come, but might be passed out drunk in the porch swing by the time they do.
"Sisters, like us," Carla says and they side-hug and smile.
Oh God.
"Sorry Bob couldn't make it," I say to Carla.
"Well, you know he had a big golf thing." Yeah, on the television. He couldn't miss it to fly across the country on a private jet that has a television.
"He's so athletic," Grace says. Yes, his remote control skills are enviable.
"Oh, I get it." Carla says, pointing to my shirt and nearly spitting her drink.
"What?" I ask, looking down to make sure Chester didn't projectile shit on it. Although, I don't think anything's getting out of those blue satin pants.
"You got my girl pregnant!" Carla practically shouts.
"He sure did!" My grandfather hollers in the background. And there's some laughter in the crowd. Geez, what's in these drinks?
"Well, we didn't fly you out here for nothing," I say.
"No, your shirt. The man behind the bump. You're that man! You got behind and bump bump. That's funny."
"Oh Carla. I didn't get it and I was afraid to ask." My mother laughs. She's a doctor for God's sake. And an episcopalian!
"No, that's not what it means," I say. "Ana has a bump, we didn't bump bump. Well, I mean..." Jesus, why am I talking about how I impregnated Ana with our mothers?
"You know, Christian. You just keep getting her pregnant. I may have to spank you for that," Carla says and I immediately leave the conversation. I decide the buffet is a less dangerous option.
"I'm guessing boys," Carrick says, wearing a blue sweater and sipping on the signature boy drink—The Papa Smurf. I don't know what's in it, but it's the color of pool water and smells like sun tan lotion that got lost in a hospital.
"I think so, too!" Ray gives him a thumbs up over the crudités. That crudités platter being carrot and celery sticks, and a spooned out bell pepper filled with ranch dressing. Of course Kavanagh would think that was party fare. She used to set it out for all her Friday nights. A quick stick and dip is what she was known for. She certainly doesn't know how to throw a themed party like I do. I'll never forget Teddy's co-ed baby shower and those diapers she made with the melted chocolate bars with the peanuts inside. And we had to change those dolls while being timed. That wasn't a game, that was a nightmare. Maybe Taylor and I could throw Ana a shower this time...
"We're gonna have quite the team!" Ray says. He's gone all out for his outfit. He's wearing a Seattle Mariners jersey with Grey Boys written on the back.
"I don't know why you find out anything ahead of time!" my grandfather says. "That's like asking Santa for a picture of your gifts in August. In my day whatever came out, came out."
Jose's father nods, staring down the cake. He's probably trying to voodoo curse it into being his son's babies. Where did Jose Sr come from, anyway? I didn't even know the photographer was here yet.
"Ana's carrying low. It's boys." My grandmother says.
"That's hogwash old wives' tale hooey," my grandfather says. It's just 'cause it's two and they're heavy, so they sag down. It's girls."
"How do you know that, you old goat?" she asks.
"Because Christian says she craves pickles. All girls crave pickles."
"Yo, bro!" Elliot says as he approaches me. I turn to see him holding a plate full of deli meats. Kavanagh actually served bologna. Probably straight from the plastic container she got on sale at the Quik Time Mart—her favorite store.
"Elliot—" I say. He's wearing a fluorescent pink shirt with flashing lights that says: Daddy, get your gun!. "Did Kate buy you that?"
"Yeah, but I think it's girls myself, if only to drive you completely bonkers." He laughs and sticks some bologna in his mouth. Appropriate.
I look around and I expect to see the photographer with Ana and Kavanagh chatting it up, but all I see are Ana and Kavanagh chatting it up. This is odd. Did Ray bring Jose Sr? No, Ray came alone. Jose Sr couldn't have come by himself. He has a half dead leg.
"Taylor," I say as I see him walk by with a plate full of food. It's strange to see Taylor eating and enjoying himself. He's wearing a light pink polo shirt and these pale blue pants. He looks like he's on a cruise. A three day, not a seven day.
"Yes, sir?"
I look down at his plate. "Why is there so much sushi?" He has enough fish on there to feed a nation of cats.
"I don't know. I rather enjoy it, sir."
"Not for you. For Ana!"
"This isn't Mrs. Grey's sushi, sir. I was going to share it with Gail."
"No, I mean why would Kate serve so much of what Ana can't eat?" I swear if Ana so much as accidentally touches that spicy tuna, I'll make Kate's head the fifth block on that cake.
"Do you want me to remove all the seafood from the premises?" He looks like I told him to piss in his combat boots or something. Geez, I didn't know Taylor liked raw fish so much.
"No, I'll make sure she doesn't eat any." I look over at Ana and give her plate the once over. No visible sea creatures. Unless you count Kavanagh flapping those lips like a blowfish.
"Yes, Mr. Grey." He starts to walk away.
"Wait, I didn't ask my question."
He stops and turns back. "I thought that was your question."
"No, that was the second question."
"But, you asked it first, sir."
"That's because I forgot the first one when I was so alarmed by the second one, that I asked the second one first and then remembered the first one to ask second because it was never asked in the first place."
He stands there for a moment, looking like he's trying to translate Morse code.
"Alright, sir."
"Where's the photographer?"
"Were we supposed to hire someone, Mr. Grey?"
"We never hire one! He just keeps coming and snapping—forever!"
"Jose is coming over here with your sister, Mr. Grey." He points and I turn around to see them skipping along through the wildflowers. My sister is laughing at something he said. And he's got this shit eating grin on his face.
Oh fuck.
"Can I eat my fish now, Mr. Grey?" Taylor asks and I nod and shoo him away.
"Where have you been?" I ask, a bit more accusatory than intended, as my sister and the lensed offender approach.
"We went to the barn with the kids to feed Boone," Mia says.
"I love that turkey," the photographer says and he's practically salivating off the teeth of that grin. Why do I get the sneaky feeling he's not talking about my children's bird?
"But, you didn't say hello to me first, Jose," I say, gritting my teeth. "You always do."
He looks all sheepish all of a sudden. Or rather the wolf in sheep's clothing playing the part.
"Aw man, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be upset."
"I'm not upset." I glare. "Just curious..."
"I wanted to say hi, I just got distracted." He looks at Mia and they laugh.
"I'll bet."
"It's boys, I know it!" Mia says, suddenly throwing her arms around my neck. Is she trying to throw me off the scent of whatever the fuck happened in the turkey's bachelor pad or is she that excited about her guess and her cerulean sweater dress?
"I think so, too," the photographer says.
"Yay! We can be Team Blue together," Mia says, hopping a little too much for my liking or the knit of that dress to handle.
"Yeah, cool," Jose says and gives her a high five. Their hands connect for a moment too long.
Oh my God. They're a team birthed by my babies. I have to put a stop to this blatant sexualizing of my sister. First, it's coming together as Team Blue, then it's coming together in the sack.
"But, you're wearing pink," I say, eyeing his shirt. I know his game— he just changed his vote to be a team player.
"No, that's white. I just washed some socks with it," he says.
"You have red socks?" I ask. I've got the weasel here.
"Yeah, some holiday ones," he shrugs.
"Then, where's your blue?"
"My jeans."
Quick thinking. Oh, this fucker is good.
"Okay, attention please!" Kavanagh yells, scrambling my brain away momentarily from Team Blue. I'm definitely going to make sure it's Team Blue Balls for Jose. "It's almost time for the big moment. Everyone gather around the cake while Ana and Christian take their places."
"This is it, Ava!" Phoebe throws her arms in the air and the cousins run for the front line.
I move to Ana and help her up from her seat so we can walk to our cake.
"Ready, baby?" I whisper and kiss her head.
"Always with you, Mr. Grey."
I smile, and as I hold her hand and we make this journey across the garden to our answer, I realize this isn't a first. The gender party is, but we've made many journeys together now. Firsts are what bonded us, but seconds and thirds and fourths and millionths are what tie us together.
"Speech!" Elliot calls out with a hand cupped around his mouth and Teddy, who's sitting next to him, mimics him. I don't know why I let those two freely hang out. That whole relationship is potty humor, sci-fi flicks and loud mouthing. Of course, that's Elliot's relationship with Kavanagh as well.
"We're happy you all could be here today..." I say with an arm around Ana as we stand by our cake. Well, not everyone. "And we're delighted we could share this special moment with all of you..."
"Cut the cake before my life is over!" my grandfather yells out.
"It'll be over in ten seconds if you don't hush it," my grandmother says.
"Mom! Dad!" Grace says, but she and Carla can't stop giggling. Oh I see they've moved onto the blue drinks.
"Who does the cutting?" I whisper to Ana.
"We do it together," Ana says, picking up the cutter and I wrap my hands around hers, and lean over so we're cheek-to-cheek while doing it.
"On the count of three," Kavanagh says. "One... Two... Three..."
And we slice.
Pulling out the piece we see the cake in all its baby gender revealing glory. It's... It's..
"What color is that?" I whisper to Ana as I look at the thing. "Is that mauve?" What does mauve mean? I'm suddenly reminded of those seventeen pregnancy tests I had Ana take with Phoebe. Every one had a different, slightly confusing answer. We had to take them over the course of a day because she just couldn't pee that much. I'm still seeing faded double lines.
"Christian, I think that's pink!" Ana says.
"That's pink?" I ask.
We both look to Kate and Kate nods, smiling, and if I'm not mistaken a bit teary.
"Pink. It's pink," I say and turn to the crowd. "It's pink!" I throw my hands in the air like I won the lottery or I'm about to go on the roller coaster ride of my life.
It's both.
The audience cheers.
"Yay! Sisters!" Phoebe yells and she and Ava are dancing around like the rain god ended the drought.
"I knew it, man!" Elliot yells out.
"Aw nuts, more women!" Teddy says.
I hold Ana's face with both hands and smother her with kisses.
"Are you happy?" Ana asks, looking up to me with those blue eyes that I hope will be on the faces of our new daughters.
"Oh Mrs. Grey, you have made me the happiest man alive." I kiss her, holding a hand to her belly and all the hooting and hollering disappear and it's just her and me and our babies.
Girls.
Or... This is the alternate ending...
"What color is that?" I whisper to Ana as I look at the thing. "Is that gray?" What does gray mean? Is that a joke on our name? Fucking baker. I'm suddenly reminded of those seventeen pregnancy tests I had Ana take with Phoebe. Every one had a different, slightly confusing answer. We had to do them over the course of a day because she just couldn't pee that much. I'm still seeing faded double lines.
"Christian, I think it's blue," Ana says.
"That's blue?"
We both look to Kate and Kate nods, smiling, and if I'm not mistaken a bit teary.
"Blue. It's blue!" I say, then turn to the crowd. "It's blue!" I throw my hands in the air like I just won the lottery or I'm about to go on the roller coaster ride of my life.
It's both.
The crowd cheers.
"I knew it!" Ray says, holding up his arms and he and my father hug. I think they had too many Papa Smurfs.
"I told you, you old goat!" my grandmother says to my grandfather. "Some boys like pickles!"
"Yay!" Teddy says and jumps up and down.
"Team Blue!" Jose says and hugs Mia. What the fuck? But, I'm too happy right now to kick his head in.
I take Ana's face with both hands and smother her with kisses.
"Are you happy?" she asks, looking up at me with eyes I hope will be on the faces of our new sons.
"Oh Ana, you have made me the happiest man on earth," I say and I kiss her on the mouth.
"Get a room!" Elliot says.
"They already did," my grandfather yells out.
"The bump bump," Carla says and she and my mother laugh.
Everyone is over the moon happy. Everyone except a little girl in a pink diamond tiara who's taking off her blue sweater as she runs to go inside.
"Just a minute, Ana," I say.
"What's wrong?"
"I just need to check on something." I kiss Ana on her forehead and leave her with the congratulatory party guests to follow after my daughter.
I find her in my office after I see the blue sweater thrown down outside my door.
"Can I come in?" I ask as she sits curled up in my chair—nose to her knees, sniffling.
She nods and looks up at me, teary eyed. Chester is peeking out from her little basket purse that's set on my desk, looking helpless as to what do. One thing is certain, no matter what a shithead he is to me, that little rat really loves my girl.
"I found this in the hall," I say, holding up her sweater.
"I don't want to wear it no more." She sniffles.
"Come here," I say and I pick her up and sit back down in one fell swoop and place her on my lap. "What's wrong, Princess?" I cuddle her into me and stroke her hair.
"It's not gonna be sisters," she says, wiping her nose on my collar and then resting her head against my shoulder again.
"But, brothers can be fun, too." I kiss the top of her head.
"Yeah, but only when you wanna dig for worms and be silly with farts. They don't wanna play things like dollies or have tea parties."
"Who says?"
"Teddy doesn't."
"That's because Teddy is your older brother. His job is to protect you.
"He didn't protect me. I punched Fritzy in the arm when he kicked dirt on Teddy's new pants." This is a new story. I have to hear about this later. That fucking Fritzy.
"Well, yes. But, big brothers are just different. Little brothers will do anything you say."
"They will?"
"Yes, and they need you to be a good big sister and teach them the ropes."
"Like the jump ropes?"
"That and all about unicorn poop and fairytales and Paris fashion."
"You mean I could dress them up?"
"Sure." I shrug. "Look at Chester. He's a boy and he's wearing a pink glitter top hat and jacket." They'll go along with it for a few years, anyway. And then she can hold the pictures over them forever.
"I know all about those things you said they needed to know, too," she says.
"Know about them? Why, you're an expert!" She giggles. "Listen, let me tell you something. Those little guys are going to look up to you like you're the queen."
"Really?" She straightens her tiara.
"Really." I kiss her head. "And let's keep this between you and me for now, but if we work on your mother, you might have a sister before you know it."
"I love you, Daddy," she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight.
"I love you, too, Princess," I say as I hold her close. "By the way..." I pull back to look at her. "Why did you come in here and not your room?"
"'Cause I wanted to sit in the Daddy chair. It hugs good."
I smile and hug her close again.
"Is everything okay?" Ana asks as she peeks in the doorway.
"Is it?" I ask Phoebe and she nods, then jumps off my lap and runs over to Ana.
"I love you brothers!" She kisses Ana's belly twice.
"You're excited now?" Ana asks.
"Yeah, I was sad for no sisters, but Daddy said I could dress up my brothers in glitter clothes and have tea parties with them and then we would both talk to you hush-hush and I'd have a sister before I ever missed having one."
"He said all that, did he?" Ana asks, and gives me a look.
"Phoebe," I whisper, bringing the shush finger to my lips. "Secret, remember."
"Oh yeah," she whispers back, then turns back to Ana. "Un-hear the last parts, Mommy."
"I didn't hear a thing." Ana shakes her head and laughs. "You know Ava is looking for you, Phoebe.
"Oh yeah! We was gonna look for butterflies." She grabs her sweater and her basket and whisks Chester away.
"Are you wearing that insect repellent spray? You'll be eaten alive by mosquitos!" I call out, but she's so far out the door. I swear, no self preservation. Just like her mother.
Ana just stares at me for a moment, then walks over and sits in my lap.
"What?" I ask and she puts a hand to my cheek, leans down and kisses me.
"And to think there was ever a time you thought you wouldn't be a good father."
"And to think there was a time at all before you," I say and kiss her again.
"Boys, huh?" I say as I rest my forehead against hers.
"Boys." She smiles.
As we sit together, we look out to the yard through the wide parted slats of my blinds. Teddy is chasing Phoebe and Ava. It's hard to believe soon there will be two more running through that yard.
More.
"I remember when I first showed you this meadow, it was quiet and peaceful," I say, stroking her belly.
Phoebe squeals and I think it's because she's seen a butterfly.
"It's not so quiet anymore," Ana says.
"It's not." I close my eyes—her head leaned on mine—and I listen to the music playing, my family talking and laughing, and the happy sounds of the children chasing butterflies.
I open my eyes and look up to my wife.
"Thank you for the noise, Mrs. Grey."
Vote for which ending you like best! Thanks! I'll announce results. More to come...