The phone in the office rings, the sound hard to discern from the ringing in my head, but it's clear. Old Jorg answers it, then holds up the receiver.
“Declan!” he shouts.
“WHAT?” Dec screams back.
“Yer wife. Says yer ignoring yer phone. Something about dinner plans and how you and Andrew need to get yer asses to yer house or she's gonna cut off sex.”
“WHAT?” Declan's voice goes up an octave. “She SAID that?”
“Nah.” Old Jorg lets out a phlegmy laugh. “Just the part about dinner plans. You two need to go.”
“Damn,” I mutter. “We're babysitting for you guys. Remember? Shannon and the Hamilton tickets.”
Dec says a curse under his breath. “I forgot. What time is it?”
We look at the wall clock.
“You idiots. Finish this by running all the way to Declan's apartment. Then think about how weak you both are until our next workout,” Vince says as Dec and I run into the locker room, grab our gym bags, and start the run to his place. I slip my arms through the two handles and wear the bag like a backpack, running easily. Dec’s right next to me, huffing harder.
Years of swimming give me the lung advantage. Dec's a better soccer player, but short-distance running doesn't help after that kind of workout.
You need stamina.
By the time I reach the main door to the building where he and Shannon live, I have to wait a good minute for him to catch up and let me in. The doorman, Barry, gives me a wave but doesn't offer.
Smart guy.
Dec uses his card key to take us to the elevator, both of us simmering. It isn't until we're at his floor that I take a look at his body.
And mine.
And realize we're up shit creek with our wives.
“Dec?”
“Huh?”
“Look at us.”
His eyes take me in first, going over my arms, then my legs, bouncing to his own body. He stretches out the arm not carrying his gym bag, chest huffing from exertion.
“Oh, hell,” he says. “We need to go downstairs to the building gym and shower before Shannon–”
Opens the door. Which she does.
Right then, on cue.
“Declan!” she hisses, their toddler daughter, Ellie, on her hip. Dec's wife is furious, and why wouldn't she be? We're nearly an hour late.
Dec's eyes drop as he passes her. “I'll be in and out of the shower in three minutes and we'll be fine, Shannon,” he says.
“It's our first date in months!” She's in the I Can't Believe You Did This to Me zone. My brother is making a huge mistake.
“Let me fix this for you, Dec.”
Dec's back is to me, hunched in anger.
“What?”
“First, tell your wife you're sorry.”
Shannon beams at me.
Ellie's pudgy little fingers reach for me, eyes wide with delight as she catches my eye and shouts:
“Uncadoo!”
Declan falls over, laughing so hard, he starts wheezing. Talk about a mood change.
“There's your nickname for the rest of your life,” Shannon tells me. “Uncadoo.” Whatever pissed off self-righteous anger she was holding dissolves on the spot, too.
“I… can't wait… to tell Vince and… Gerald,” Declan gasps, holding his sides.
“You do that, I'll tell them your nickname from the lacrosse team at Milton.”
Declan freezes. Shannon gives me an extraordinary look, the kind I only thought I gave people when they threatened to spill the secret on an opponent.
“What was it?” she gasps as Declan lunges for me, hand over my mouth before I can react.
He may have the element of surprise, but I have superior muscle strength.
Thanks, Vince.
“Don't. You. Dare,” Dec says, grabbing my arm, which makes Shannon look at us.
Really look.
“Declan, you're a mess!” Shannon says reproachfully, reaching for Dec's hands, mouth turning down as she eyes the black all over them. “What on Earth? You look like you bathed in grease!” She sniffs. “And you smell like tar.”
“Close,” I mutter, wondering if I can grab a quick shower before my wife arrives and I get the same lecture.
Ding! The doorbell snatches my defeat from the jaws of victory.
Damn.
Amanda appears in the doorway, the seconds before she hugs Shannon a moment for me to take her in. The maternity clothes have finally taken over her wardrobe, belly swelling with a grace that mirrors my heart as I watch her. That belly grows my children. That body sacrifices so our sons can be born.
That body gives so much for me.
But it's not her body I have to watch out for.
It's her mouth.
“Andrew!” She looks me over, eyes going to my face, my hands, my arms, then centering on my knee. She points. “What is that? A TIRE TRACK? Did you get run over by something?”
“More like someone,” Declan crows as he ducks into the master suite. His laughter booms until a door closes, then a shower begins. Good thing they have three bathrooms, because I'm taking over the guest one.
“What is Declan talking about?” Amanda asks, coming to me, walking a little slower than usual. Is she… waddling?
No. Can't be. She's only at twenty-six weeks.
“Dec and I got into a fight with a monster-truck tire. Dec lost.”
“I HEARD THAT!” a muffled voice comes from down the hall. “YOU LOST!”
“We tied,” I explain to her and Shannon.
“DID NOT!”
“Declan!” Shannon calls out. “Take your shower. We're going to be late for dinner reservations if you don't hurry up.”
The bathroom door opens and steam pours out. Dec's soaking wet head appears, and he yells, “Uncadoo is lying!”
“TAKE THE DAMN SHOWER!” Shannon shouts in a voice that makes me see how similar she really is to her mother, Marie.
Ellie looks at her mother, fascinated and a little nervous at the change in her demeanor. Shannon's definitely not a yeller, so even I'm a little nervous, too.
“Mama loud,” Ellie says, pointing.
“Yes, sweetie.” Shannon scoops her up and balances her on one hip. “Sorry.”
“Too loud!” she admonishes in a voice you'd expect from a librarian, not a small toddler.
“Yes,” Shannon says in a calming voice.
Ellie's little fingers cover Shannon's lips. “Shhhhhh.”
Something in my chest melts. We're about to have this.
In duplicate.
“Uncadoo shhhh,” Ellie says, reaching for my mouth. Shannon's eyes flash with horror, making me wonder what I actually look like.
“Let Uncadoo take a shower first. And brush your teeth. You have black streaks on the two top ones,” she says, making me reach up.
Huh. Slightly swollen lip, too.
“Did you two get into a brawl at a tire factory?” Amanda asks, giving Shannon so many covert looks they might as well give up on trying to be subtle.
“Something like that.” I hold up my gym bag. “I'll just shower in the guest bathroom.”
“Uncadoo owie,” Ellie says as I walk away. In the bathroom, I stare at my reflection.