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“Louis, I am going to kill the goddamned caterer.”
It was around noon on the day before what was supposed to be baby Claudia’s big, first birthday party. Granted, Louis didn’t particularly have a want or need for it to be so big. He kept reminding Lestat that if you’re doing this for Claudia, she’s not gonna remember any of it anyway in an attempt to quell the nervous energy emanating from him over the past month. Lestat waved him off each time, insisting that of course Claudia should have a gigantic birthday, especially since his band wasn’t touring and he was able to be at home. As much as Louis was irritated in the moment by these little tantrums, his intentions were (relatively) pure.
Louis sighed, shook himself out of his thoughts, and craned his head to look at Lestat, standing behind him with his phone in a vice grip. “What did she do now, Les?” he asked, setting the book he was reading on his chest as he reclined on the sofa in their living room. He looked down at Lestat’s shoes and pursed his lips. Muddy from his pacing outside. For fuck's sake.
Lestat tossed his phone onto the coffee table and continued pacing beside the back of the sofa, wringing his hands. “The woman does not understand that the canapés have to be half meat, half vegetarian, as you and your best friend Armand are off of meat for a reason I will never understand. She insists that all of them be smoked salmon since it aligns with the main course, which is also seafood, and that my substitution, brie and fig, would clash with the menu.”
He stopped pacing, stood in front of Louis, cocked a hip, and tossed his hair over his shoulder. “I, of course, told her that I crafted the menu that she now wields over me like some little dictator, and that if she was to be paid the exorbitant fee she demands of her clients, she should be far more respectful in her tone.” He huffed and joined Louis on the sofa. “Then I fired her and hung up the phone before she had the chance to get all shrill again. The florist I’ve been conversing with is her wife, and so I doubt she’ll be wanting to do business with us. Whatever. She was trying to give us bouquets with petunias. Can you believe that?! For our baby girl! Petunias!” He looked at Louis, exasperated.
Even though Lestat was being insane and probably instigated whatever the hell just happened with the caterer (who was highly recommended to them after Armand and Daniel’s wedding), Louis smiled at him sympathetically. He looked terrible—hair stringy, bags under his eyes—well, he didn’t look bad, actually, because he couldn’t. Not to Louis, anyway. Still, he looked and sounded like he was losing it.
Louis placed his book onto the coffee table next to Lestat’s (remarkably intact) phone and opened his arms, inviting Lestat into them. Lestat’s face visibly relaxed, and he crawled into Louis’ embrace, kicking his shoes off. He tucked his head underneath Louis’ chin and sighed contentedly. He was heavy as fuck, but Louis didn’t mind. Lestat grabbed Louis’ wrist lightly, pressing his fingers into his pulse point.
One of the biggest learning curves Louis and Lestat had to go through during the last six months with Claudia, especially as she went from a tiny, warm, semi-sentient loaf of baby into a little human being with a personality and feelings, was how to emotionally regulate as a family. It wasn’t perfect by any means. It wasn’t like either of them had any real example of healthy emotional displays during childhood to model their own parenting on. They had their own baggage as a couple too.
Almost two years ago, when Louis’ girlfriend from college, Lily, came to him in hysterics, revealing that she was pregnant with a baby she didn’t want and couldn’t bring herself to terminate or give up for adoption to someone she didn’t already know, the couple was divided. Lestat was wholly uninterested in having children (terrified) and dabbling in semi-unethical non-monogamy. Louis was desperate to create the little family he envisioned when he dreamed about what living freely as a gay man would be like and depressed beyond measure, starving himself for some semblance of control. After a year-long separation, lots of counseling, some psych meds, and Lestat keeping his dick in his pants, here they were, cuddled up on the sofa in their house with their daughter napping peacefully up the stairs, complaining about French appetizers.
Louis breathed in audibly. Lestat picked his head up, meeting Louis’ eyes, and they took several rounds of grounding breaths together. When Louis was satisfied that Lestat would be able to talk more constructively, he sat up, bringing them both to lean on the back of the couch. “What’s really going on, cher? Is it really the caterer? It’s alright if it is. I just wanna make sure I know what’s goin’ on.”
Lestat sighed and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, overstimulated. “No, of course it isn’t the caterer. It’s maman.” Oh.
Louis placed a hand on Lestat’s knee. “What’s wrong? Is she still coming?” Lestat’s body was instantaneously wracked with sobs.
“Non! She’s off on some fucking silent retreat in Bali. When I didn’t get her RSVP, I knew—I knew she’d picked something stupid over me, again. Again she did this, Louis! All I want is for my daughter to know who her grandmother is—to be spoiled by at least one grandparent since your mother is out of the picture, and she robs me of this.” He looked at Louis miserably. “Oh Louis, if it weren’t for you and our dearest Claudia… how alone I would feel.”
“Oh, babydoll,” Louis sighed, pulling Lestat into a hug. “You will never be alone, Les, as long as I have something to say about it.” He ran his fingers through Lestat’s hair. “And you are surrounded by people who love you beyond measure—we both are! You just need to stop letting your mother control your life. You’re an adult; she’s an adult. If she’s treating you wrong, baby, let that go!” Lestat nodded into Louis’ shoulder and sniffled. Louis unwound them, cradling Lestat’s jaw. “Lord knows that I know that’s easier said than done. But let’s just focus on today, alright?”
“Alright, yes, you’re right, mon ange . The power of now, and what have you. I shall call the caterer back.”
“I mean, baby, why are we even getting a caterer? Or the florist, for that matter. Just cuz we can?”
“It was so that maman could know that we were doing well,” he rubbed his wrist. “With or without her.”
Louis scoffed but steeled himself in the name of keeping the peace and centering the celebration around Claudia, not Lestat and his litany of mommy issues. He stood up and offered Lestat a hand. “Up. C’mon. Go clean yourself up and take a nap.” Lestat nodded weakly and relented, standing up with some effort. Louis clapped him on the shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Go on, you’re overtired.”
Lestat whimpered a little and dragged his feet up the stairs and to their bedroom. Louis sighed, brushed himself off, and called Daniel.
~~~~
Lestat woke up a few hours later to the crackling of the baby monitor on his nightstand. He rolled out of bed sleepily, still in all of his outside clothes (he really did need that nap), and made his way to Claudia’s nursery. The warm, low light of the room and Duke Ellington playing softly on her very own record player did little to quell his drowsiness, but he perked up at the sight of his daughter, swaddled and fussing mildly in her crib. Lestat reached into the soft bedding and unwrapped Claudia, cradling her to his chest. She began to sniffle and whine as she woke up.
“What’s wrong, ma petite?” he cooed. “Are you hungry? Is your little tummy rumbling?” He smiled down at her, utterly enamored.
One of Lestat’s misgivings before formally adopting Claudia was the fear that with how much he loved Louis, he simply wouldn’t have room in his heart to dedicate to a new person. He was raised in a home full of selfishness and have-nots and scared that parenthood would make him cold, self-obsessed, and overly needy. It did initially, but it didn’t in practice. One of the things his therapist repeated to him a dozen times over was that his trauma responses weren’t his fault but were his responsibility.
And so, when he looked at Claudia, his baby, the love of his life, he saw a child that knew love unconditionally and was born of a mutual desire to make the world a better place. His love didn’t stop at the oodles of outpouring affection and devotion he had for Louis. His heart just grew. It was really very simple.
Claudia pursed her little, heart-shaped lips, wrinkled her brow, and began to cry, nuzzling her face into Lestat’s shoulder. “Awww,” Lestat said, setting her on his hip. “Do you want to go back to sleep? Are you tired, chou chou?”
“Nooo,” she whimpered, tugging on his hair with her chubby fists. Lestat chuckled and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of sweet almond oil in her hair.
“Okay, ma petite, let’s get you some dinner, hmm?” He shushed her gently and walked out of the room, shutting the door.
As Lestat walked down the stairs with Claudia on his hip, he heard music playing, dishes clanking, and smelled something absolutely delicious cooking. That was odd (as much as Lestat supported Louis in absolutely everything he did, almost blindly, completely unconditionally, he was an abysmal cook). Curious, he walked into the kitchen.
“Hey baby,” Louis said with a smile, a little preoccupied as he stirred a bowl of frosting on the counter. Armand was hunched over the stove, reducing a pot of red beans down, and Daniel was chopping fresh fruit. The lights were turned down, candles were lit, Sade was playing on a speaker, and a full spread was getting set up for the four of them, plus a bedazzled highchair for Claudia, not unlike a throne.
“What’s all this?” Lestat asked, a little flustered.
Daniel looked up from the cutting board he was using and handed Lestat an already-filled glass of red wine, waving at Claudia as she smiled at him. “Louis called me because you were losing your S-H-I-T—” he winked at Louis, “—and so here we are, Claudia’s godfathers, here to save the day. Because we’re amazing and sexy and happened to be free this evening.” He scooped Claudia up with a grin, and she giggled into his neck, babbling happily. Daniel turned to Lestat, already rosy-cheeked and warmed by his (rather large) glass of wine. “I’m also her favorite person in the whole world, you included,” he said with a deep smirk, Claudia giggling and drooling a puddle on his shoulder. Lestat rolled his eyes at Daniel but gave Claudia a wet kiss on her cheek, inciting an excited shriek, and stalked over towards Louis.
“Taste the frosting,” Louis said, holding a whisk. Lestat leaned over and licked a glob of it that had fallen onto the back of his hand, never breaking eye contact. Louis’ pupils dilated slightly, but he shook himself out of it before he could get too carried away. “Watch yourself,” he said with a laugh, putting the (unlicked) whisk back into the bowl. “We got mixed company, baby.” He reached out and ran his fingers through Lestat’s hair affectionately. “Damn, Les, that wine got to your head faster than I thought it would. You eat much today?”
Lestat leaned his face into Louis’ hand and sighed contentedly. “No, mon Louis , I have been positively consumed with all of the party preparations. It’s been since yesterday.”
Louis kissed his teeth and patted Lestat’s jaw, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t be doing that, Lestat, not with Claudia to take care of. You gotta take better care of yourself.” Lestat nodded, looking down shyly. Louis crossed over to where Daniel was bouncing his sweet baby girl by the window next to their breakfast nook, pointing at cars passing outside excitedly. He scooped some of the fruit Daniel was cutting into a bowl and walked over to where Lestat was currently irritating Armand, hovering over him and worrying about whether or not the red beans were going to be too spicy for Claudia.
“Lestat, your daughter will be fine. I hardly touched the bottle of Crystal! Oh, you white monster, get away from the pot. Shoo!” Armand elbowed him out of the way and continued his deep concentration over the stove. Louis laughed as Lestat stumbled towards him, reaching for the bowl of fruit and smiling, looking more relaxed than he had in a long while.
“You go sit down and eat this. Supper’ll be ready soon. I’ll ice the cake while you eat, and then we can sing Claudia happy birthday.”
Daniel walked over to Louis and handed baby Claudia to him. “Oh, don’t worry about the cake, man. I’ll ice it. I've never done it before, but I should be able to pick it up, no? You sit with Lestat and your daughter.”
“Beloved, you will surely make the cake lopsided if I don’t help you, which I am happy to do. The rice is in the rice cooker and the beans are finished. I’ll just allow them to simmer,” Armand said warmly, setting down his soup spoon and lidding the pot. He practically floated over to Daniel and took his hand, leading them both to the kitchen island to work on the cake. Louis smirked at them, bickering playfully and planting kisses on each other’s cheeks, wrapped up in their own little world.
He’d had his apprehensions about them when Armand finally brought the man he’d been bragging about and obsessing over to dinner one evening. Of course Lestat was beyond skeptical. He and Armand had been best friends-slash-rivals-but-couldn’t-live-without-each-other since their first year of theater school, long before he and Louis had even met. Fortunately for Armand, Louis was actually well suited to be his friend as well, and the three were inseparable. It was a miracle when Armand finally went from a perpetual third wheel to a weirdly healthy, whirlwind romance of his own. Louis was a big fan of Daniel too, for the record. Lestat thought he was annoying, frankly, but would slaughter someone in broad daylight if they crossed him. Obviously.
Claudia gave Louis her own little version of a kiss on the cheek, which was, in fact, leaning in and licking his face with an open mouth. Louis chuckled, unconcerned, and ran a thumb over Claudia’s cheek, wiping off some stray drool. The thing is, Claudia could projectile vomit pea soup like that girl in The Exorcist, and Louis would still find her completely irresistible. Her deep brown doe eyes, chubby cheeks, and soft skin were enough to entrance everyone who came in contact with her.
20 minutes, a finished bowl of fruit, and one reminder to Daniel and Armand to keep it in their pants later, the cake was decorated, the table was set, and Louis placed a bowl of mashed-up beans on the highchair Armand had made especially for her birthday party. Claudia smushed handfuls of beans into her little mouth, and everyone else tucked into their meal.
“Oh Armand, this is delicious!” Louis exclaimed, Lestat nodding in agreement begrudgingly. “How did you learn to make this stuff?”
“Thank you,” Armand said graciously, dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “I grew up watching my mother make lentil soup, and being vegetarian, I’ve come to appreciate much of the bean dishes that are both readily available to me and cost-effective. Now that Daniel and I have settled in New Orleans for the time being, at least for the summer, I have been most enamored with red beans as a staple for this exuberant culture.”
“Well,” Louis started, “they’re fantastic. Almost as good as my mom’s. Claudia’s tearin’ em up, too!”
“Oh,” Armand said, conspiratorially, looking at Lestat. “It seems as though I was right. No matter.”
“Whatever,” Lestat scoffed, tucking back into his almost finished (and not at all spicy) red beans and rice.
Louis cleared his throat and raised his wine glass. “I’d like to propose a toast, before we bring out the cake and one of us inevitably has to bathe Claudia when she gets it all over herself.” All of them smiled and raised their respective glasses (Daniel’s containing sparkling grape juice, because sobriety stops for no man). “I’d like to thank you both—Armand and Daniel—for helping us out today. The food is delicious, the highchair is adorable, and Daniel, especially, for settling my hysterics this afternoon.” They both nodded at Louis kindly.
“And to Lestat, my husband, who reminded me of how important it is to celebrate birthdays boisterously and loudly, even when it isn’t in my nature and wasn’t the way I was raised. I wouldn’t know Claudia without you, since I’d probably still be in some half-baked lavender marriage with poor Lily by now.” He took Lestat’s hand, tutting at him as tears streamed down his face, overcome. “Thank you for giving me the family and the life that I never thought I deserved. I know I deserve it now.” Lestat laughed wetly and pecked Louis on the lips, careful not to drop his glass.
“Anyway,” Louis said with a laugh, sniffling, “to Claudia!”
“To Claudia!” they all repeated, clinking their glasses together.
“I love you,” Lestat whispered in Louis’ ear, leaning into his space.
“I love you, too, baby,” Louis murmured, brushing a tear off of his cheek.
Claudia responded to this overwhelming group display of affection and love by flinging her spoon at Armand’s face with a giddy laugh, much to Lestat’s delight.