Their Hearts Don't Beat Like Ours

Frank and I talk about the baby for the rest of the day. Only moving for more coffee and food.
We decide not to make any big decisions for a little while. Even though she’s been in jail, therefore drug free, since she’s been pregnant, her body might not be healthy enough to handle the child, and she could lose it. So, we’re not gonna tell my parents or his mom until we know she’s gonna have it. There’s no way I’m getting my mom’s hopes up.
I’m gonna have to move, though. My apartment’s lease is up in 3 months, luckily. It’s a one bedroom. Yeah, the bedroom is huge, but my child will have a proper nursery.
Me and Frank call the lawyer, and he’s actually ecstatic that I’m keeping it. He told us, not before saying he wasn’t being a lawyer at the moment like last time, that he hates doing adoption or foster care paper work. He promises to keep us updated on the baby’s process. Lindsey will have regular doctor visits every 6 weeks.
The more we talk about, the more Frank seems, and his excitement is kind of contagious. I’ve never really thought about it. Me and Frank never once mentioned marriage or a family. Me and Lindsey did. All the time. We were waiting until we got more stable on money to get married and we were gonna start having kids a few years after.
I mean, 24 is a good age to have kids. So, it’s not like I’m this young father. And now that I don’t have Lindsey to take care of, I have a lot of extra money. Lindsey only had a part-time waitress job, so I paid for everything except for a her personal shit like clothes and booze.
I might not be a to-young father, but Frankie… He’s 18. I’ve said it to him over and over “You’re so young. You shouldn’t be stuck with this.” But he insist. He says he always planned on settling down early and that since he’s starting the job he’ll always have pretty soon, it’s different. That makes me feel better. He wasn’t planning on going to college, so I’m not taking that away from him. He was gonna move out when he got enough money, so I’m not taking that away from him either. But I am adding being a father to a teenage boy. I am taking away fun. Of course, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, go to any party he wants, but who wants to go without their boyfriend in most cases? I’m not gonna argue with him, though. I don’t want him to think I don’t want him. And, God, I do. I need him. And I’m so glad he’s gonna help me through this.
But because he seems so amped and insist on helping me with probably the biggest thing to ever happen to me, I consider him in all the plans. I guess Frankie didn’t realize this.
Two months seem to go by quickly. Holiday’s go by peacefully. For Thanksgiving, I eat with Frank and Linda, and he eats with my family. Christmas just happened. Me and Frank spent Christmas Eve together and went to spend Christmas day with our families. We didn’t tell anyone else, we didn’t want to make the day about us.
I have sorted out all the custody agreements with Lindsey’s lawyer, and he had told us that the baby is healthy as possible. So I take this as needed to start to make changes. My parents are first. Frankie and I go over to dinner and let them know the news a week after Christmas. My mom freaks out. She screams and squeals. She hugs, and then she starts saying “girl” in replace of the “the baby”. Which scares me. I have no idea what gender I want it to be.
Every man wants a boy, right? But, I’m not every man. A boy with two gay dads… That may be troubling for him in school. I hate to say it, but he’ll be called a faggot or any other term that people make gay all the time. A girl can get made fun of too, but perhaps it’s not as likely. A girl with two gay dads is seen different. It shouldn’t be, but it is. That’s society.
I think I want a girl.
Yeah. I do.
“I hope mom’s right.” I say to Frankie.
We’re sitting on the couch, watching Harry Potter, after having dinner with my parents.
“What?” Frank ask.
“I hope it’s a girl.” I reply.
“Why do you want a girl?”
“I don’t know… The whole two dads thing seems like it’d be easier for a girl, y’know? It sucks… but, yeah. I just kind of want a girl. I like the idea of having a little princess.” I laugh at my last sentence, not thinking before it comes out. It makes Frank grin big.
“That may have been the cutest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Yeah… okay. A girl. I like that. But let’s not get our hopes up. It could be a boy.”
“I know… I know. I guess we should discuss names. Do you, uhm, give Lindsey any say on the name?” I ask, hesitantly. I know this is my child, but I feel like a mother should like their child’s name, even if they won’t be much a mother for it.
“Did you two ever discuss baby names or anything like this?” Frank replies. I can tell he’s tenser so I pull him closer to me and rub up and down his stomach.
“A few times. All I remember is she loved the name Lee. And it’s my mom’s middle name, so she was very persistent on giving a girl that name.” I tell him.
“I like that… For a middle name maybe? Yeah. I really like Lee. Hah. Lindsey actually had a good idea.” He laughs and I laugh with him before he speaks again. “But, uh, if it’s a boy… Can it have my middle name? It doesn’t have, too. And… Never mind, I have no right. Forget it.”
“No, Frankie. I love the name Anthony. I wouldn’t mind at all.” He smiles.
“Really? It’s just… Yeah, it was my dad’s… but it was my grandpa’s name, and my grandpa was actually a good man.”
“Yeah, baby. So, we have middle names. We need first names.” I state.
“Yeah, I’m stuck.”
“Miles.” I say. I don’t know where it came from. It just kind of came up. But I like it.
“What?”
“Miles Anthony Way.” I cringe. “Oh, never mind.”
“I like Miles Anthony.”
“Yeah, me too.” I pout. Anthony. What goes with Anthony? Well, Frank Iero ofcourse. Wait.
“Miles Anthony Iero.” I say, with a smile on my face. Frank looks up at me, wide eyed.
“Gerard, no. He or she will have the last name Way.” He protest.
“But that sounds so right, babe.”
“Yeah… Yeah it does. But maybe we can adopt a boy later on.” Frank suggest. I give him a smirk.
“If it’s a boy, it’ll have your last name.” I tell him.
“Iero-Way. Miles Anthony Iero-Way.” My eyes go wide at Frank’s words. That sounds perfect. I beam down at him and pull his head up to kiss me.
“Yes. A million times yes.” Frank just smiles and kisses me.
“Now. Girl. Lee. Lee…” Frank says, mostly to himself and then let’s out a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I ask. He just shakes his head. “Tell me.” I tickle his side and he thrashes around on the couch begging me to stop until he gives in.
“Well, me and Jamia used to talk about this stuff, and once I came up with the name ‘Bandit’ for a girl, and she hated it. I guess it’s stupid, name your kid after a outlaw? Hah. But I don’t know I liked it.”
“Bandit Lee.”
“Has a ring to it… But it’s stupid.”
“No. Frankie, it’s perfect. Holy shit. It’s even more perfect for the situation. I don’t want to name my child after such a bad time, but it fits, y’know?” I’m so excited. Bandit. Outlaw. She was conceived through a crime. It just makes sense. Of course, she won’t be a crime or anything close. She’s already a blessing. But, it just fits. I can’t explain it.
“Bandit Lee Way.” Frank beams. “Yeah.”
“Bandit Lee Way-Iero.” I correct him. He smiles bigger.
“So, boy, my name first? Girl, yours?” Frank questions.
“Sounds good to me.”
“So, when we get married, you want to each have our own last names first?”
Marriage. I like when he mentions it. It means he’s in this for the long run. It makes me happy. Frank Iero-Way. Gerard Way-Iero. That sounds right. Just so right.
“Yeah, baby. I like that. Do they, uh, find the sex out in the jail? That’d be helpful to go ahead and prepare her room, y’know?” I ask him. Of course, he doesn’t know the answer, but I still ask.
“You said her.” Frank looks at me, with a wide grin on his face. I did say her. I guess I really want a girl. And I really love the name Bandit. “But I don’t know, call the lawyer?” He suggest.
So I do, I call Mr. Williams and he says we can pay for her to get that checked. It’s not part of the jail’s ‘health insurance on inmates’ or whatever. He tells me it’s about 200 bucks and I tell him I want it. But we still have to wait 2 more months to find out.
All this worry about the sex and names, I still don’t have a room for her yet.
Her. I smile to myself.
I stand up from the couch and go to my laptop in the kitchen before plotting down a stool at the island. Frank looks at me funny but I motion for him to come over.
“We have to find a house.”
“We?” He ask. I look at him, confusion all over my place.
“Of course… I thought us living together was implied… I, god. I’m sorry. Of course you don’t have too.”
“You.” He pecks my nose. “Need to stop assuming things. Of course I want to live with you. I practically do now.” He laughs. I smile.
“My lease is up in a month, we got to get on a roll.” He just nods and I start searching places for rent online.
We find quite a few nice places for the same price that I’m currently paying. How the fuck does a good condition nice house with 3 bedrooms and 2 in half bath cost only 50 dollars more a month than a one bedroom apartment. I’ve been ripped off for the past 4 years. We call the landlords and schedule times to visit the houses. By the time we get done Frank is bouncing off walls.
“Gee. We’re moving in together. In a house. In a month.” I just smile at him. I’m kind of in awe about it too. “I’ll pay for as much as I can.” He says.
“Frankie, if you didn’t want a job, you wouldn’t have too. My comics are doing well.” Which they are. I got the second deal, and even though my comics aren’t number one sellers, they’re getting enough attention to make me good money. And then the other comics I’m just drawing for are doing well. Finally, my career seems to be taking off. And if I do need him, Frankie will have money soon. He has a little now. Internship pays, but only for gas and cigarettes and few meals we’ve shared. When he’s past his training at the tattoo shop and gets his certification, he should be making good money too. We’re gonna be more then set.
“Gerard, I’m helping with bills. It’s gonna be our house. With our child. Right?” He seems to have a little bit of desperation in his voice.
“Baby, I was just saying you didn’t have to worry. Of course you can help, if you want. But don’t stress over bills, okay? Promise? You can stress if I stress, got it?” I tell him. His faces calms down and he nods, squeezing my waist.
“Okay. Got it.” He kisses me. “But, there is something that we need to stress about.”
“What’s that?”
“My mom’s 18 year old son is moving out to start a family with his boyfriend.”
“Yeah…” I say, slightly confused. He made it sound almost like bad thing.
He looks up at me with a worried look.
“I’m not sure how mom’s going to take it.” He tells me, with that ‘Houston, we may have a problem’ look.
“Oh… Shit.”

Notes

sorry for the late and not so amazing update.
i've been busyyyy.
anyways. enjoy! let me know what you think about the story so far! thanks for all the comments and thank you so very much for reading.
as always, stay lovely.

*yes, i typed that to sound like an anchorman. don't judge me.