Sunday, September 18, 2022

"Mitch and Sarah are out back," Nataley informs Noah. "Go let them in, would you? Please?"

"YEAH!" Noah yells, and Chuck jumps around his legs, barking loudly at the boy's excitement. Running for the back door, Noah throws it open, banging it against the kitchen table. Wincing, Nataley hopes his exuberance hasn't damaged Gabe's furniture. At the island, she continues slicing the fresh ginger root into thin pieces, relieved that the house has quality knives.

"And I wrote my first song with Papa," Noah is chattering to Mitch who towers over the boy. The gentle giant is nodding sagely, his long hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and a pair of aviator sunglasses over his eyes. A guitar case is in the hand opposite Nat's son. As they enter the house, Mitch removes the shades, glancing at Nataley with a nod and smile which she returns. Behind him, Sarah arrives, carrying a cajon in one hand and a cloth bag in the other.

Drying her hands and rolling her eyes in the direction of Mitch's back, Nataley rushes over to the other woman to grasp the cajon. "It's not that heavy, Nat." The drummer smiles at her friend. "I'm pregnant. Not helpless."

"Hush, you. You're coming up on the end of your term, so someone should be taking better care of you."

"Nah. If he's too solicitous, it makes me cranky and I want to punch him." Setting down her bag on a chair at the table, she wraps Nat in a hug, and Nataley rocks them side to side.

"I remember these final weeks. Yikes! Are you miserable all the time?"

"Only when I'm trying to sleep. Damn. There just isn't a comfortable position at this point, is there? I've got 14 pillows surrounding me on the bed, and I have to keep trading them out as one gets too warm or too lumpy or too flat. It's ridiculous."

"And I suspect Mitch sleeps through all of the tossing and turning?"

"He claims that it keeps him awake, but all I hear are his snores." The women laugh. "Harry will probably be the same when you're a million months pregnant."

Ducking her head, Nat skips the opportunity to educate their friend on her circumstances. Maybe one day she would share, but not while Sarah is eight and a half months pregnant and likely emotional.

"Mitch loves you quite a bit," Nataley says instead. "I'm working on some honey ginger lemon tea for when you need a break. I can make it either iced or warm. Got a preference?"

"Hmmm...drumming might make me hot, so I'll go with iced."

"Awesome. Just going to steep these ingredients in some hot water for a while to get all the flavor out." Nat transfers the pieces of ginger and the grated lemon peel into a teapot, pouring boiling water from the electric kettle over them. Washing her hands, she adds, "Anything you can't eat these days? I'm planning vegan fajitas. Noah loves them, but if you're worried they'll be too spicy or..."

"Nonsense, Nat. I'm actually craving spicy food, so bring it on! But not right this second because I understand we have a budding musician that wants a jam session." With that, Sarah pads into the music room where the sounds of guitar are already drifting through the air.

Briefly Nat feels envious of the drummer -- for the baby that her two friends have created that will be part of each of them-- but also at how light the woman is on her feet. No way was Nataley that fleet-footed when she was nearly due. Of course, she'd also been in extreme discomfort and confined to bed for the last six weeks of her term. Long ago, she had come to terms with not being able to have children of her own; and yet sometimes her heart yearned still for what she knew she couldn't have. Especially now that she and Harry were very nearly practically engaged.

Walking into the music room, though, she catches sight of Harry watching Noah tune his guitar, and she recognizes once more how incredibly blessed she is to have both of these boys in her life. They fill her with joy. Shaking off her melancholy, she settles in a chair, prepared to observe the whole process, wondering if she should have gathered some cotton for her ears. Laughing at her thoughts, she grins as Harry tunes the instrument. No matter what their creativity sounds like, this is a huge and positive experience for Noah.

Mitch draws the strap of a bass guitar over his shoulder, and Noah carefully observes him. "Uncle Mitch?"

"Yeah, Little Man?"

"You play bass?"

"Yep. Not as good as Adam, but it's not much different from a guitar except it's only got four strings, and they're tuned at a lower pitch."

"Oh, cool. I didn't even think about not having bass."

"No problem. We probably could use a keyboardist too, but your..." Mitch clears his throat, "Um, Harry didn't want to tell too many people where you were staying."

"That makes sense. We're in hiding, sort of." Noah announces. Nat notices that their guests raise eyebrows at the phrase, but no one comments.

"Okay, N. Play the chords like you've been practicing." Harry encourages.

When her son places his tongue firmly between his teeth and starts strumming the chords in a repeated, less stilted way than she had previously heard, she knows he's been practicing, even though she hasn't a clue when he'd found time to pick up the instrument.

Soon, Mitch joins in on bass, followed by Sarah who adds a soft beat. It's Harry who fills out the sound with a melody. The song is actually rather good, Nat thinks. Maybe she should be capturing this? Reaching in her pocket for her phone, she swipes to find the recording button before she spies the iPad set up on a tripod, filming the small band. Of course Harry had already thought of recording it! He's such a proud Papa these days. No one deserves that more than the boys in her life. Hell, Noah and Harry were made for each other.

Even Nat can tell when Noah starts to tire, and she spies Harry connecting with Mitch via eye contact as they silently agree to gently bring the song to a close, each one playing a chord that is a signal to Noah that the song is over. Jumping out of her seat, Nataley claps her hands, using her shrill whistle to express her excitement over their talent and skills.

"Wow! That was amazing!" she applauds.

"Mama. You don't have to do that. I know it wasn't that great. I'm not very good yet."

"Whoa, Little Man," Mitch warns. "Let's just listen back to that, shall we?" He grasps the iPad from its spot, walking past Harry to sit on the couch on the other side of Noah. Mitch presses play, and the song fills the room again. Noah watches carefully, his eyes growing ever wider.

"What? We made that?!" He screeches. "That sounds really good. You can even hear my guitar! Wow!"

"It helps to have quality musicians with whom you can play," Harry reminds him. "When I first started playing, I wasn't as good as my bandmate, and he played guitar on stage all the time. But I worked hard, and some of the other band members would let me play with them sometimes. People like Adam."

"Uncle Adam played with you when you started? That's awesome! How about Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah. Did they play with you too?"

Harry ruffles the boy's hair. "I didn't know them at the time."

"What?" Confusion sweeps across Noah's face as his gaze swivels between the adults in the room."

"Remember I used to be in another band? One Direction? When I wasn't much older than you are now actually."

"Harry!" Nat admonishes. "Don't give him ideas to leave home already! He's eleven for crying out loud."

A hearty laugh leaves her boyfriend's mouth. "You think I'm ready for him to leave? Nope. Maybe when he's 35."

"Thirty-five?! No way, Harry. I'll be an old man!"

The adults all laugh, knowing that it's not that far off for Nataley and Mitch, and that Sarah has already passed that age.

"Fingers feeling rested?" Mitch asks. "Wanna try another song?"

Bewildered, Noah swivels his head amongst the group. "But I only know two chords."

"True, but lots of songs have the same basic chords. We can change the tempo or the melody and make a completely different song."

"No way!" The boy's mind was clearly blown, and Nataley snapped a photo of the three guitarists on the couch. One day, Noah would need to be reminded of this day, and she wanted evidence to share.

"This time, Sarah is going to start, and you're going to play to the beat. You can play the chords in any order you want. Don't worry about it being a pattern." Harry encourages.

"But how will you know what to play then?" Her son's confusion makes the corners of her lips curve upwards.

"Trust us, mate."

Sarah starts with a 3/4 time signature, and right away Nataley can hear the difference from the 4/4 they had been playing previously. Noah's head whips up, staring at the drummer.

"That's different. Is that a 3/4 beat?" He inquires of Sarah who nods her head in time with the music.

"Yep."

"You've been using that app we put on your iPad, haven't you?" Harry's pride is apparent.

"Well yeah," Noah shifts around nervously on the couch before glancing at Harry. "I didn't have much else to do at my father's house last week."

Once more, Nataley's heart feels supreme relief that her son doesn't have to spend much time with her ex-husband anymore. This outcome is worth all of the angst leading up to yesterday. All of it, including the check from Stevie which is still in her luggage waiting to be returned.

"Hey, you going to play or what, Little Man?" Mitch prods, and Nat is grateful for the guitarist's nudge away from the topic. One day Noah's negative experience with his father will be more of a distant memory than the rawness it must be right now.

When Noah nods, transferring his fingers to strum at the guitar strings, Harry grins as he adds a consistent rhythm with his guitar. Mitch layers in a melody with the bass, and it once more sounds delightful to Nataley and completely different. What an experience her son is getting!

Before they're finished, her phone buzzes, and she spies a text from Glenne. We're here. Let us in?

Rising as silently as possible, Nataley tiptoes into the kitchen and out to the backyard where Chuck is frolicking from plant to plant in his efforts to capture a butterfly.

Unlatching the gate, Nat is happy to be wrapped in a hug by Jeffrey first followed by Glenne who is holding a cake box in one hand. As the women embrace, Jeffrey takes the box from his wife, stepping back and smiling broadly at them.

"You look fairly calm for someone who needed a bodyguard two days ago," Jeffrey remarks glibly, and Glenne slaps his arm.

"Rude." His wife comments.

"Two days ago? Try yesterday. Cindy and a colleague accompanied us on an outing."

"Nice. How's the music writing going?" Jeffrey gestures with his head in the direction of the house, and Nataley leads them into the house, pausing at the kitchen as she strains the ginger lemon mixture into a pitcher and adds ice and cold filtered water.

The sounds from the other room speak for themselves, and Jeffrey wanders in the direction of the musicians while Glenne sets down the cake box. "It's vegan carrot cake."

"Yum!" Nat licks her lips as she assembles a tray with glasses and the iced tea. "Let me take this in there, and then I need to start preparing dinner."

"Oh yay. I would much prefer helping with dinner than being trapped in a room with Jeffrey while he's scouting a new talent."

The giggle escapes Nataley as she covers her mouth. "What new talent is he scouting? My son?"

"Yep." Glenne doesn't laugh as she states the words, and Nataley steps back, placing her hand over her stomach. Surely her friend is joking? Teasing?

"That's not funny, Glenne. He's eleven, and he's just learned his first two guitar chords."

"You never know where talent will land, Nat. Look at Harry. He didn't grow up in a musical family exactly."

"No, no, no. Don't even joke about it, Glenne. My son is still just my son. He's not done being a child yet." Carrying the tray into the music room, she pours out glasses for everyone, passing them around while the music continues.

Back in the kitchen, she urges her friend, "Now help me prep these mushrooms for dinner. I bought a variety to put in the fajitas." Passing over a knife and a cutting board, she rinses the mushrooms and hands them to the other woman. "See if you can cut them fairly uniformly into quarter-inch pieces. That way they'll cook at the same rate as the rest of these veggies." Turning on the oven, Nat uses a second cutting board to slice bell peppers and onions before chopping asparagus into similarly sized bits.

"Mama! Did you hear that new song?" Noah squealed, running into the kitchen and throwing his arms around Nataley's waist. "It was so much fun."

Soon the room is filled with bodies and voices. As is often the case in Nataley's experience, the gathering settles into the kitchen while she and Glenne add the veggies to a traybake and coat them with a spice mixture before sliding the pan into the oven. As Nat removes the fresh tortillas they'd bought at a nearby tortilleria from the fridge, she hears Noah asking Sarah a question.

"Can I touch it, Aunt Sarah?" He's polite at least, and Nataley twists to watch him reach for her pregnant belly.

"Sure. I don't let just anyone touch the bump, you know."

Noah's palm rests over her stomach, and he leans in, pressing his head against her bulge. "Is it a boy or a girl?" He asks Mitch.

"They haven't decided yet," Mitch answers.

"Who?" Noah wonders.

"The baby," Sarah comments.

Nataley watches her son.

"The baby hasn't decided if it's a boy or a girl? When will you know?" Clearly confused, Noah addresses the question to the parents, but he glances at Nataley.

"When they tell us," Mitch replies. "You see, Noah we believe that babies can be born with either genitalia, but that doesn't always match what society says."

As uncertainty sweeps over Noah's face, she wonders what might help him better understand, but he perks up as he remembers an example. "Oh, like my friend Sam at school. She has a penis like me, but she's a girl."

"Exactly," Sarah nods. "No one had to tell Sam she was a girl. She just knew. And we're waiting for our baby to tell us what they are."

"How do you pick a name then?" Noah wonders.

"Valid question, Little Man. We picked a name that doesn't have a gender."

"Really? What did you pick?"

Sarah and Mitch exchange a glance, and then Mitch shrugs. Leaning down, Sarah whispers in Noah's ear, and a grin spreads across his face.

"That's a great name!"

"You can't tell though. We're not sharing the name until the baby is here." Mitch warns.

Noah beams.

"Hey!" Harry protests. "My kid gets to know the name before the baby's godfather? No fair!"

The entire room bursts into laughter, and Nataley folds a number of tortillas into foil to place in the oven. She could get used to nights like this hanging out with their friends. Maybe she wouldn't need to unlove Harry after all.