LAW

My eardrums want to burst as the crowd screams when the band Radioactive take to the stage. I lean in close to Reed’s ear. “Is it just me or am I getting too old for this type of thing?”

Reed, my newly-wedded husband, turns to me and pats my cheek. “Aww, honey. You are old, but no. This is … intense.” We glance around the packed stadium. “Who knew Radioactive was this big here?”

“Their bass player and manager are Australian. I read that somewhere when their team contacted me.” I mean, I’ve definitely heard of them. Their music gets a lot of radio time, and one of their songs, “Hat Trick Heartbreak,” is on my playlist for when Anders and I go running, but it’s not like they’re a household name.

At least, so I thought. This packed stadium proves otherwise.

On my other side, Anders yells over the noise of the overexcited audience. “Why did their people give you these tickets again?”

“Because I’m a very important person in the LGBTQ charity realm … fuckface.”

Anders laughs, like that’s the biggest joke ever, which, okay, it might be. It was a long chain of someone knowing someone else type thing thanks to Anders’s boyfriend, Brody. He went to uni with a friend of Marty, who’s the boyfriend of the band manager, Luce. I can see why Anders is confused.

After the show, I’m meeting with the lead singer’s husband to talk about having him come to the dojo to give one of his motivational sports-people speeches to the kids. He was saying how he goes on tour with the band and does something like this in every city they play.

“Why you and not me?” Anders asks. “I’m the other half of the Steele Brothers Dojo. I want to meet the famous people.”

I try to cover my grin but fail. “Did I forget to mention we got you guys backstage passes as well?”

Anders smiles, and fuck, I still can’t get over how easily happiness radiates from him now. For years, his smiles and laughs were all forced. He’d find things funny, and he’d be somewhat happy, but he always had that dark cloud hanging over his head.

Since finding meds that work for him and letting himself be vulnerable and open to a real relationship, he’s gone from strength to strength. Not to say it’s always smooth sailing or anything, and sometimes I can see the concern for Anders in Brody’s eyes, but I’m so happy my brother found someone who is the support he needs.

On stage, Jay Jackson shouts into the microphone, “Hello, Brisbane!”

There are more screams, and Jesus fuck, I should’ve brought earplugs. To a concert. If that’s not the epitome of getting old, I don’t know what is.

The band kicks off their first song, which is one of their hits that I know, and I wrap my arm around Reed as we stand and watch the performance.

It’s the first time in a really long time we haven’t had to worry about babysitters or making sure the kids are okay, which is supposed to be a good thing, but it’s really not.

Reed and I started fostering kids as soon as we could because we want to give all those children a fighting chance at a future, but in Australia, the foster care system still favours birth parents over foster parents. The adoption rate is low, and all foster arrangements are temporary and kept short.

I’m happy we’re providing for needy kids, but in these lulls between fosters, the house is too empty.

Not that I don’t appreciate all the naked time Reed and I can freely have when there are no kids in the house, but I’m starting to think I want children of my own.

But … Reed might not want kids of our own. With the way he lost his parents at a young age, he has always been an advocate for kids in need, and I’m still okay with that. We can keep fostering, but I also want more.

I need to bring it up, but I don’t know how.

Maybe if there was some kind of sign that it’s something we should do—an easy segue into the conversation, it would be easier.

As if answering my silent prayers, when the band finish playing, a child-like scream pierces the air and a cry of "Dadda" makes me start questioning my faith. Or lack thereof. It's a faint sound that I wonder if I've manifested as an excuse to have the conversation, but as the crowd quietens between songs, the crying only gets louder.

We're close enough to the stage that I can see the culprit. Off to the side is a toddler, maybe eighteen-ish months old. He has a dummy in his mouth, earphones covering his ears, red eyes, and he's reaching out for someone on stage while being held by a giant hand around his wrist. Damn, that kid has some lungs on him.

Is this a sign I should ask Reed for a child of our own or a warning against it? I can't be sure.

The lead singer, Jay, laughs into his microphone. "I'm not sure if y'all can hear that, but someone hates his dad's music."

He turns and bends to his knee, waving his kid over.

The way he toddles out to his dad, dragging who I can assume is Jay's husband with him, it makes my heart melt.

I'm definitely taking it as a sign to ask Reed to father my babies. Or... baby. I turn to open my mouth to say something—anything—that would hint at what I'm thinking about, when he beats me to it.

"I think we should have kids."

My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline.

"I know we said we were happy fostering, but all I could think about during that song was the kids at home, only to remember, there aren’t any. If you're not cool with it, then—”

I cut him off with my lips on his, and when I pull back, he blinks up at me. "I was literally just thinking the exact same thing."

"Really?"

I nod. "I thought I must've said my thoughts out loud. Or are you a mind reader now?"

"Eww, we've become one of those couples."

"What couples?" my brother cuts in.

"The kind of couple who finishes each other’s—”

"Sandwiches!" Reed shouts, and we both laugh. Ah, Frozen jokes. See, we’re practically parents already.

Anders just screws up his face. "You were always one of those gross couples."

Brody wraps his arm around my brother. "Always. It's sickening. We're a much more evolved couple than you are."

Hey, the fact Anders is in any 'couple' at all is a miracle, so I give them the win. "That's probably true."

"Probably?" My brother scoffs. "Of course we are. Not only that, we're more evolved humans too."

Okay, now he's pushing it. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

Back on stage, Jay's holding his son. "It's been a long road to getting back on tour because of the new man in my life taking up all my time. Say hi, Freddie."

Freddie holds up his hand and waves in that cute way kids do where they open and close their fist. "This is our first tour since Freddie was born, so there are some teething problems. Literally and metaphorically. This kid is a drooling machine right now."

There some chuckles and awws from the audience.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" I ask Reed.

"Everyone, say goodnight to Freddie. He's going to bed now."

The crowd screams and cheers while Jay's husband takes the baby, gives Jay a kiss on the cheek, and walks off stage.

"I hate to see that man go, but I love to watch him leave. Did you know my husband used to play hockey? Hockey butts, am I right?"

His bass player cuts in. "Do you forget we're in Australia? You're in my world now. We barely know what ice hockey is, let alone what hockey butts are."

"That is a damn shame," Jay says. "But speaking of hockey ..."

They break into one of their most famous songs, “Hat Trick Heartbreak,” and for the entire concert, I'm on a high. Either Radioactive is an amazing band, or the excitement in my veins is because Reed and I just made a life-altering decision.

We're ready.

***

After the show, we flash our backstage passes to the mammoth of a security guard, and he lets us past. There's a bustle of crew everywhere in the bowels of the arena, and I have no idea where we're supposed to go for our meeting.

Eventually, a short woman who's dressed in black jeans, black shirt, and is wearing a headset approaches us. She looks important. "Steele Brothers?" she asks.

I nod. "Yes, that's us."

"Follow me."

She takes off, and for someone with tiny little legs, she moves fast. We follow her to a door where she knocks softly.

Jay's husband answers, thanks the woman, and steps aside to let us in. He holds out his hand as we pass. "Caleb Sorensen, but you can call me Soren. Nice to meet you in person."

"Law Steele. This is my husband, Reed, his friend, Brody, and the dude who looks like me is just my shadow."

My brother shoves me. "I'm Anders. The better-looking twin."

"We're identical, dumbass."

Soren laughs. "Come on in. Freddie is sleeping, but he's used to noise, so don't worry about talking too loud."

We enter the dressing room to find Jay in an armchair with Freddie using his shoulder as a pillow.

"I'd get up to meet y'all, but I'm trapped under a baby right now."

I smile. "You know, when we scored backstage passes, I pictured a very different kind of party back here."

Jay tilts his head sideways. "The bass player and drummer will be partying next door. You can go there after your meeting if you like."

I shake my head. "I wasn't complaining."

"Oh, thank fuck," Reed whispers. "I love you," he says to me and then turns to Jay, "And I loved the show, but I'm so tired."

Soren cracks up. "They sound just like me!"

"Old, you mean?" Jay asks.

I pretend to be offended. "If that wasn't true, I'd be so mad right now."

Jay chuckles and stands. "I'm going to head back to the hotel and leave you guys to your meeting."

"Do you guys mind if we go to the party?" Brody asks.

"Go for it," Soren says. "As soon as we've got organized, I'll be going to the hotel to sleep off some jetlag. The first city of eight, and I'm already exhausted. Australia is far."

Jay grabs the baby bag, kisses Soren on the lips quickly, and takes a still sleeping Freddie out of the room with Brody and Anders trailing to go party with the rest of the band.

"Take a seat," Soren says.

Reed and I take the couch while Soren sits in the armchair Jay vacated.

"Freddie is precious," I say.

"A precious pain in the ass, but we love him." The smile on Soren’s face lets me know the love outweighs the pain by a lot.

"Being a parent worth it then?" Reed asks, and we share a look. One that's part hopeful with maybe a little bit of dread too.

"Definitely. Do you two—”

"Not yet," I say. "Well, we foster a lot of kids, but I think we just decided tonight that ..." I look at Reed.

He nods. "We want kids of our own too."

I'm so glad he added the too on the end of that, because I don't want to stop fostering.

Soren leans forward. "In that case, I might joke about Freddie being a pain in the ass, but it's only because I'm sleep deprived. Teething is a bitch. But Freddie is the best thing I've ever done." He huffs. "I just heard my husband's rebuttal in my head, so I'll rephrase. Being with Jet and having Freddie are the best things I've ever done. And if I'd ever won a Stanley Cup, that would be on the list too, but I didn't."

"Stanley what?" I joke. Hey, even I know what that thing is.

Soren holds his heart. "Ouch. Okay, let's get down to business."

We go through possible dates he could come to the dojo, what type of talk would suit the kids best, and iron out all the details.

It's a productive meeting for sure, but I won't walk away with that being the most important thing that happened tonight.

I'm leaving knowing that my life with Reed is about to change.

And I can't wait.