The Name Game was the most idiotic thing Emmett had ever come up with. The sad part was everyone sided with him.

After a lot of debating, he took one of the baby names books and searched Irish names. For all I cared, they could search Arabic or Chinese names. I wouldn’t agree to anything they said.

Justin, the deserter, sided with the enemies.

Another torrid debating later, gave me a headache.

“We narrowed it to three!” Emmett announced.

“Let’s hear it.” I yawned loudly.

“Gael, Keagan, and Patrick.”

“Patrick.” I nodded enthusiastically. “He’ll love celebrating St. Patrick with his old man.”

“We’re serious here, Brian,” Justin said gently.

“So am I. What do you think, buddy?” I glanced at Gus. He was sprawled on my stomach. He shrugged in answer.

Yeah, not helping me.

“I found some, too,” Mel declared, holding another book in her hand. “Garrett, Stephen, Ian, Bill.”

“Stephen,” I muttered, closing my eyes. That was Sunshine’s favorite. “Aren’t there any normal names left?”

“You don’t like anything! You choose,” Ted told me.

“I already have.” I smiled at Justin. “Ralph.”

“I told you—NO!” Justin bristled.

Gus sat up, beaming at me. “I have a friend in school. He has a cool name.”

“What’s that?” Maybe he could help us, after all.

“Ethan.”

Or not.

Justin spit his sip of coffee. I plastered a smile on my face. “Nice, Sonny Boy, but we’ll stick to…” I sighed loudly, catching Justin’s eye. “Do you like Patrick?”

“’s all right.”

“Patrick Kinney-Taylor.”

“I don’t want to ruin it for you, but they won’t allow you to use both your names,” Mel said sadly.

“You okay with using Taylor as his middle name?” I pulled Justin closer.

“If I’m okay? Gee! Let me think…”

I laughed, kissing his temple. “Patrick Taylor Kinney, it is.”

“You heard that, Munchkin? You finally have a name!” Justin put his head on my stomach, stroking the side of it.

The baby shower continued with more shit thrown at us—from baby clothes to diapers, from toys to baby bottles, even a carry-on (the kind that goes strapped on the chest), and worst of all: a breast pump.

It didn’t take long for our family to take to Keith, Leo, and Kira.

oOo

As more time passed and we approached the due date, I grew more and more anxious.

Without Justin knowing, I made him my PoA, I made a Will, I put everything I owned in both our names, and worst of all, I wrote two letters. One for Justin and one for Munchkin.

I was in my thirty-fourth week, which meant I was scarily close to facing my biggest fear.

We had Justin’s duffle bag packed and at ready in the garage.

Keith had told me I’d know when time came by the blinding pain. I wouldn’t need any water to break like at women, the pain would be a dead giveaway.

My real problem these days was fatigue.

I’d fallen asleep in more staff meetings than I cared to admit. I wanted to leave everything in order with Kinnetik as well, no matter the outcome.

I’d even fallen asleep while eating dinner the other night, nevermind during the movies Justin chose to watch, saying they were filled with action. Yeah right. Five minutes into the movie, I was fast asleep.

On a hot late July day when I returned home early, I found the house empty. There was a note on the fridge saying Justin was to meet with the Dean at PIFA for his upcoming return to school that fall.

I found refuge in my home office, where I pulled out the letters I hoped they’d never have to read.

Acting on impulse, I opened Munchkin’s and read it to him, after clearing my throat.

Dear Munchkin,

I’m sure you prefer being called Patrick by now, but you’ll always be my Munchkin.

Enough babbling from your old man.

You’re reading this in lieu of my premature departure—I was too soon ripped from your life.

I won’t lie to you. I’d have loved to meet you, watch you grow and become a man. No matter what, I want you to know I love you.

If you ask your daddy, he’ll tell you how difficult it was for me to say these three little words to him. But I did. Just like I’m telling you now.

I have no fucking clue what to write to you, Munchkin. All I can think in this moment is all I’ll miss out, but maybe I’ll be able to see you. I promise to watch over you and daddy every day. You’re all I have in life.

Promise me to take care of daddy and don’t upset him. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it was for him to raise you alone. (Or maybe he found someone else?)

Nevertheless, be good to him. I love him very much.

How do I end this letter? My last words to you?

Munchkin, I love you.

Your dad

Tears were rolling down my cheeks by the time I finished reading.

“Want to hear the one for daddy, too? It’s kind of not safe for your age, but I’m sure you won’t tell on me.” I touched a spot where he kicked a foot.

Sunshine,

Stop crying. I know you’re crying.

You have Munchkin to be strong for. I can’t even conceive him not making it too. I’d die all over again if that happened.

Have you stopped crying yet? I have something important to tell you: I love you.

I always have, Justin.

Please, be strong for Patrick. He needs you.

Don’t do anything stupid, now. I’ll come back to haunt you! I’m sure it will be fun. Can you imagine having sex with a ghost? Kinky.

See? I can still make you laugh. My silly twat.

Another thing I want from you is not to blame yourself. It’s no one’s fault this happened.

Please, for fuck’s sake, stop weeping like a silly little faggot!

I thought I brought you up better than that. I was sure I’d made the best homosexual out of you.

I hope you follow the instructions I left in my Will. Sell Babylon for a lot of dough, then become a fucking success as a famous painter. I’ll buy one, I promise.

Do you think I’m in Heaven or Hell? I’m curious too.

Is that a tear, Sunshine? Wipe it away before I spank you!

Remind Munchkin of me. Every day! Please, don’t let him forget me.

Also, tell the others I’m happy. Munchkin matters more than me. Let Debbie and Jennifer and the munchers help you with the baby.

Keep Mikey from doing anything stupid. I know him.

Right now, I have no clue when our last time making love will be, but I want you to remember that forever. Just like our first time. Feel me inside you. Always.

I will be inside you forever—in your heart. I know that. Just like you are in mine.

I guess this is it, Sunshine.

Remember how much I love you when you think you can’t go on. You’re stronger than you think.

Brian

PS: Give Munchkin his letter when he’s old enough to understand it.