A long lane at night

1.27. IT TAKES ONE

** ALLAN **

SIX YEARS LATER

THIS WOULD BE JACK'S FIRST CHRISTMAS WITH US. We adopted him in the beginning of the year after a rather painful and long process that started when he was three. He's five now.

For obvious reasons, Brian and I made it very clear that, although we were not the ones who brought Jack into this world, we were the ones who would guide him through his journey and always be there for him.

It's funny, when you think about all the concerns you have before the adoption. For us, we would always fear our child wouldn't see us as parents. We had decided to not put any pressure on him to call us any variation of father.

A then four-year-old Jack said to us, immediately after entering the flat:

'Does it mean you are my dads?'

'Yes,' said Brian, threading on eggshells. 'But you can call us whatever you want.'

'Okay, dad!'

'Hey, what about me?!' I asked with a smile.

'You're dad, too! Jack has two dads!'

And now Jack's two dads were crying.

Of all the things in life, nothing else ever proved to be more difficult than trying not to cry in front of our son every time we got emotional. That went also for when my parents took turns to visit and meet him. When he was first sick under our care. His first day at school. His first piano lesson with Brian. His first birthday with us.

'You were supposed to be my emotional support!' I would say to Brian every time. 'But all it takes is one look at you and we both start to cry!'

Jack's favourite sentence had quickly become 'silly dads'.

We always spent Christmas at the upstate house. The work was finished shortly before our first anniversary, which gave us the perfect opportunity to christen the whole place. This year, we had Jack pick almost all the decorations he liked and Brian would spend hours on end with Jack on his arms going up and down the place and the town looking for something else to add.

'I never thought you'd be the hugger dad,' I told him one day after we put Jack to sleep.

'What are you talking about?' He said jokingly, already throwing his arms around me. 'I've been holding on to you like super glue for a full decade now!'

'And I love every second of it!'

'I know you do.'

At the flat, Jack's room was across from ours, where the old office used to be. Here, we shared a wall. We built the house with six rooms, considering our plan to eventually have three kids. We weren't in a hurry, though. And we had agreed that, when Jack got bigger and more independent, he'd be able to choose which room he wanted. But for now, we wanted to have him close.

My mother arrived at the house about a week before Christmas. My father and his wife, two days before.

'It's like a competition to see who spoils him worse!' Brian said to me when we went to bed on the twenty-third. 'Not that I'm complaining—'

'Which you are...'

He just gave me a side eye.

'I know we're good parents,' he continued. 'I know we both are extremely loving yet firm with him, so I'm not worried much about Jack. I just shudder to think what those three can do!'

'You said it all, my love. We have nothing to worry about. You know my mother is mad about her grandson and she'll always make sure he gets a proper upbringing. As for my father, I don't really know what he can do, because he's never done a thing for me. But I'm so happy he's determined to be a better grandfather than he was a father.'

'It's weird, isn't it? The way we basically started judging and accepting or rejecting people based almost exclusively on how they treat our son.'

'Right? I thought it was only me! But ever since Jack arrived, I first see how people react to him and only then I develop an opinion about them! I thought I was going crazy!'

'Me, too! But I did call Mama Maggie about this a few months ago and she said this is totally normal once you become a parent.'

Brian was right, though, to fear the extents my parents would go to spoil Jack. Christmas morning was a real horror show in terms of the amount of presents those three bought him. It was so alarmingly bad that it raised a gigantic red flag for Brian and I.

'Brian, my love,' I said, feeling uneasy after Jack took almost a full hour unwrapping presents. The little boy was already tired and couldn't even enjoy the toys anymore. 'Why don't you go teach Jack how to throw pebbles in the pond? The rest of us will be with you in a moment.'

Of all the things that make my marriage so awesome, our level of understanding has to be on the top five. Brian opened up a huge smile, took Jack in his arms and pretended he was an airplane all the way out. I realised that I was watching the scene with a silly smile.

'Okay, you three.' I turned to my parents, smile long forgotten. 'I hope you were able to notice how happy that kid felt by something so simple as being carried by a father who loves him. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful beyond belief for the love you have for my son. I also am aware how you feel when you think of his first days without us and I understand in my own skin, deep into my bones, the desperate need to compensate that. But you should know better than trying with products. Seriously, miss Margaret? The woman who taught me the value of balance and commitment, stooping that low? I know you three are thrilled for being grandparents. I get it. But don't forget that, in order for you to be grandparents, I have to be a parent first. And that is not how we're raising this child. Was I clear?'

They mumbled their yeses, each one of them staring at their own feet.

'Good.' I continued. 'Now go out and enjoy your grandson. Cover him with all the love you have. And no shopping! I'll be with you in a minute.'

I could have sworn I overheard my mom saying 'as if we could buy anything today', but I just headed for the kitchen. I needed something strong. I made myself a large Coke float.

'Oh, that bad, was it?' Brian's voice reached me from the kitchen door. 'Pour me one and tell me all about it.'

'Where's Jack?'

'With his grandparents, where else? They seem to be behaving well and they want to be with Jack as long as possible. I did hear your father saying something about "playing by the rules". Gosh, I wish I had seen you going at them. You know how much I love it when you get all bossy.'

'You do? So put that glass down and come to the bedroom. Now.'

An hour later, we were showering together.

'I still want to grab you by the hair a little bit longer.'

'And why are you asking? Whenever I want to grab you, I just do!'

'Like you're doing now?'

'Precisely.'

We took another hour.

When we left our room, Jack was taking a nap and my parents were at the kitchen helping themselves to some sweets and French toast. Brian had just got each of us a piece when Jack actually came into the kitchen, his hair all over the place, his little hands clutching his favourite toy car.

'Nanna? Grandpapa? Grandmama?'

'Why do they get different names and we're always lost trying to figure out which dad he's calling?'

'Not now, Brian,' I whispered back.

'Thank you for the toys. But Jack wants to share them with the other kids. I can't share the dads. I want to share the toys. Okay?'

How many Jacks does it take to make five grown-ups cry their eyes out on Christmas?

One. It takes one.

'Silly everybody!' Jack laughed. And so did we.