// Chapter Two // “Can someone help me?” Justin cries in frustration. His face is red and his blonde curls are stuck to his head. He wrestles with the car seat, grunting in aggravation as the bottom slides around unsecured. “Arghh!” “Baby, calm down,” Lance laughs, nudging him aside. “Take a breather. I’ll get it.” “I’d like to see you try! Jesus Christ, you need ten hands to do this shit.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and takes a deep breath, standing aside to watch Lance struggle. Ten minutes later and Lance is cussing. “That thing,” he points accusingly. “It’s possessed. It’s the devil! It’s...it’s just not right!” Justin nods and smiles. “Told ya.” “Baby alert,” Lance sighs, giving the car seat a resentful kick before he steps aside. “I heard that spew of cussing,” JC laughs. “And remember the rules.” He touches Brianna’s nose and smiles at her. “No bad words while on the baby bus. Isn’t that right sweetie?” Lance frowns and glares at the car seat. “There will be no swearing from me so long as you keep that thing away from me!” “That thing?” JC asks curiously. “Graco.” Justin explains. “Lance seems to think it’s the devil, put here to annoy him.” “I didn’t see you do much better,” Lance counters, wiping his palms on Justin’s shirt. “So why don’t you shut the...” “Ap! BAP! Hush now!” JC warns, turning away with Brianna in his arms. “Joey was right behind me. He’ll strap that in. Take her for a second?” He hands her to Justin and drops the diaper bag to the floor. “Gotta pee.” “Nice talk Uncle C!” Justin giggles, nuzzling noses with Brianna. “He’s got no class. He thinks he does but really, he’s as uncouth as your daddy. Yes he is.” Lance rolls his eyes and steps past them. “I’m going to check on Chris okay?”  When Justin doesn’t answer, he shakes his head, then disembarks and meanders to the next bus. Joey is there and when Lance climbs aboard, he senses tension. But their voices stop when they see him. Joey is upset, it’s clear, and he stands when he sees Lance. “Did I interrupt?” Lance asks softly. “Hell no,” Chris barks, throwing a bouncy ball against the window. It ricochets off the glass and rolls under the table. “We all set on the baby express over there?” Joey’s eyes drop indignantly and Lance’s teeth mash together because Chris promised he would try. They haven’t made it out of the compound and already there is disquiet. “Actually,” Lance sighs, motioning with his thumb, “Brianna’s car seat won’t go in. They need you over there.” “Thanks,” Joey mumbles, turning away from Chris. “We’ll be ready in like ten.” He steps off the bus quietly and Lance glares at Chris. “Wanna tell me what the fuck that was?” Chris shrugs and slumps down to the couch. “That was nothing, Lance. I told you when we agreed on this whole stupid ‘bring the baby with us’ fiasco. I ain’t changing for anyone. I love the kid, I do, but shit. This is my *life* we’re altering. I’m too old and set in my ways. If I wanted to change I’d have rugrats of my own.” “You’re a bastard,” Lance spits. “She’s a baby, Chris. A baby who’s mother isn’t well. I can’t believe...” “Save it,” Chris growls, grabbing his Disc Man. “I’ve heard it since February okay? I heard all the reasons I need to accept this. I was also there when the Fatone’s said they would keep her while we were on tour, Lance. And that seems like it was the best option.” “Take her away from Joey you mean,” Lance rumbles, running his fingers through his hair. “Abandon her and...” “And not take her here where it’s not safe! Where we don’t get enough sleep as it is. Where people come and fucking go at all hours of the night! She’s a fucking year old, Lance! You know what that means? Do you? She’s gonna be walking soon and needs stability!” “A few months ain’t gonna hurt her,” Lance says, tired of trying with Chris. “Look, I’m not doing this with you. Majority rules. Four against one. She’s coming with. Deal!” “Fine,” Chris snaps, covering his ears with headphones. Lance’s jaw hurts from the stress and he wonders just how he‘s supposed to share a bus with Chris for so long. ****************** JC stares into the refrigerator. Beth did a great job of stocking and he pulls out a fresh can of formula. Another month and Brianna won’t need it anymore. Another month and she’ll be on milk. He slaps his hand to his head and laughs because he *knows* this--because he’s become Brianna’s other daddy. Joey brushes by and JC turns to explain about the car seat but there’s a despondent look in those eyes he loves so much. He slams the door shut and follows, reaching out with his hand. “Joey?” Joey’s not the same, JC knows. His demeanor has changed. He only laughs for his little girl, and even then, it’s not always the deep roar they’ve all grown accustomed to. And now there is pain and worry all compounded--an expression that nearly bowls him down. “Lance said something about her car seat?” JC nods and grabs Joey’s hand in his. “Talk,” he demands. “The bus will wait.” “Nothing to talk about,” Joey sighs. “Did Beth have the crib secured?” “She did,” JC answers, but he doesn’t let go of Joey despite his struggle. “Did Chris say something to you?” Joey’s eyes are tired, the rims permanently red and underneath permanently puffy. “He’s got his points,” Joey says calmly, and from the back of the bus he they can hear Justin making cartoon voices and Brianna laughing. “I’m disrupting lives here.” “Who’s lives?” JC battles back with a smile. “Mine? Lance’s? Jesus, Justin is the one who fought for this, so I know you’re not talking about him. My God, Lance is lucky he can’t get pregnant because Justin would have him knocked up so fast...” “Chris,” Joey interjects, yanking his hand away from JC. “Chris is one fifth of us and he’s really miserable. I dunno, maybe I should call my mom and...” JC frowns and clips his hands onto his hips. “Sit,” he demands, fed up with uncertainty, annoyed that Chris consistently destabilizes Joey’s already fragile belief that he can do this. Joey makes no attempt to listen, so JC shoves him, twice, until he topples back onto the couch. “JC, I’m not in the mood for this,” Joey snaps, his eyes flashing red with displaced anger. “Save it for someone who doesn’t know you so well,” JC grumbles. “You think I chose this?” It’s a struggle to keep his voice down--and a struggle not to let loose with four letter words because quite frankly, he’s frazzled enough for all of them. “I didn’t walk out on you, Joey! I’m not Kelly. You left me, remember that. And I’m here picking up the pieces.” He doesn’t mean to take it so far, but the words are out, and Joey’s face cracks back like he’s been slapped. Then he recomposes and lets bitter take him again. “Who asked you?” Joey growls, rising to his feet. “I sure as fuck don’t remember asking you for any of this.” Now JC tumbles back from a phantom slap, words that pierce his heart just a little too hard. The air hisses from his lungs like a slow leak and he watches with stunned eyes as Joey disappears to the back lounge. “Well fuck you too,” JC whispers. His cheeks are red with ire and he slams around even as the bus driver boards. “Morning,” the man says and JC nods. But he doesn’t smile and he considers heading over to the “non-baby bus’ just to cool off. Too late as Justin bounces past him with an impish grin, smelling like Brianna’s baby lotion. “I changed her,” he calls out as he hops down the steps. “We’ll see you in a few hours!” JC holds up his hand and wants desperately to call Justin back, to beg and plead for Justin to stay on board with them, to wail out that maybe he can’t deal as well as he thought he could. The bus jerks forward, though, and the tour is under way. “God,” JC mutters, sliding into his bunk. His eyes close and his heart pounds--and he doesn’t want to love Joey or have to be the one to bear the emotional torment that heads his way at every turn. It’s his life too, he thinks, but if roles were reversed, he knows that he would want Joey there. The curtain to his bunk parts a little and Brianna’s hand pokes in with a cloth diaper. “Truce?” Joey’s voice squeaks in his best baby impersonation. JC laughs, even though he doesn’t want to, and seconds later, Joey’s face makes an appearance. He plops Brianna next to JC and watches as she crawls under the covers for an impromptu game of Peek-A-Boo. Joey smiles as JC plays with her, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, C,” he says. “You don’t deserve that.” JC shrugs and licks his lips, fully understanding what Joey’s telling him. “She’s what’s important,” he nods. “And I just want to help.” “You really do, don’t you?” Joey says unbelievably. “I mean, this is insane. Bringing her on tour and you all just accept it.” He rests his chin in the palm of his hand and lets out a snort. “Well except for Chris but I see his point. Doesn’t make it hurt any less but I see it.” Brianna crawls over JC and grabs Joey’s beard, giving it a firm yank. He scrunches his nose at her and scoops her up. “You want juice?” he coos. “Juicy?” She flashes her gums and squeals in delight so Joey hefts her over his shoulder and tickles her thighs. “Daddy’s girl want juicy? Did Beth pack sippy cups?” JC swings his feet to the floor and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, she got everything. Even those Italian cookies she loves.” “Make sure I send her something nice,” Joey calls out, swinging Brianna under his arm while he digs a purple spill-proof cup from the cabinet. “Already done,” JC grins, coming up behind him. “I sent her diamond earrings and a dozen pink roses.” Joey pauses with his hand on the cup. “Thanks,” he finally says and he hopes that JC gets it. Really gets it. Because he knows that he’s fucked up--a lot--but in his heart it’s always been JC. Always. **************** Lance gets fed up an hour later as the bouncy ball comes dangerously close to his lap top for the umpteenth time. “Chris,” he warns, but seconds later the ball beans him in the forehead. “Jesus Christ!” he screams. “What?” Chris asks but when Lance looks up he sees nothing more than pure frustration beaming back at him. “Stop,” he says firmly. “Stop with the ball. Stop with the pouting. Stop with making Joey feel like scraped shit. Just stop.” Chris tilts his head and Lance thinks maybe he’s gotten through. But the ball streams at him once more causing him to duck out of its path. “CHRIS!” he shouts in anger. “Would you stop screaming?” Justin pleads, covering his ears with his hands. “I can’t take it!” Lance holds his hands up and takes a step back because upsetting Justin is not in his agenda. Justin won’t recover from the stress like the rest of them--that sensitivity thing. “Sorry,” Lance mumbles, glaring at Chris. “You okay?” Justin’s eyes are miserable which makes Lance flinch a little. “I just want this tour to be alright,” he says faintly. “Like the five of us to really put things into perspective and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen.” Blue eyes wander over to Chris in a desperate plea for understanding. The ball flies at him, bouncing off his forehead. Lance growls and clenches his fists at his sides because no one hurts Justin like that, not even his best friend. “You selfish son of a...” “Lance, it’s okay,” Justin says, rubbing his head. “He’s fucking immature. And he can hide all he wants under that stupid fucking grin but it’s his funeral.” Chris’ stupid fucking grin disappears and he rolls the ball with the palm of his hand. “Meaning?” “Meaning,” Justin says, folding his arms across his chest. “That you’re going to miss out. You think it’s all shitty diapers and bottles. You’re thinking about how *your* life is going to change.” He pauses to take another breath and grab the bottle of water sitting on the counter. “Brianna laughs, man. She giggles in this really sweet little voice and loves to be thrown in the air. Did you know she can identify animals? And when I come to pick her up? Yeah, she recognizes me.” He eyes Chris steadily and takes a long sip from the blue bottle. “She’s a human being, Chris. And while it doesn’t seem to mean dick to you, it means something to me. I love that kid, and that kid needs her daddy. You of all fucking people should understand how shitty it is for a parent to abandon their kid.” He turns on his heel and walks to the back of the bus, leaving Chris open mouthed and Lance stunned. “Fucking prick,” Chris growls--because he hates his childhood thrown at him. This is his life, he thinks, and no one has the right to force things on him. Still, even as Lance sighs and trails after Justin, the words stay with him. Issues he tries to fight back year after year. A life he lives largely to prove things to people that gave up on him. “Don’t you fucking lecture me about parents,” he whispers under his breath. “Because you don’t even know.” He hurls the ball against the window and it flies back at his face. He ducks, barely avoiding it, and laughs bitterly. Because maybe there’s a message somewhere behind it all. // Baby Menu // Chapter Three //