TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (15/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: https://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Thinking about the future (Orli's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's a giddy little thrill at a reasonable price
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends
DATE WRITTEN: July 31st, 2003
"I'm so glad you're home again," I murmur as I slip my arms around Viggo from behind.
He chuckles and leans back against me. "You've been saying that for five days.
"Yeah, well that's because it's true. I'm so glad that we have this time together."
"So am I." Viggo turns around and kisses my neck. "No filming, no premieres, no demands."
"For six long weeks," I say with a grin. Today is October 8th and I'm not going anyhwere until November 15th, when I go off to film 'Pirates of the Caribbean'. That means we get to spend more than a month together, including our anniversary and Viggo's birthday.
"So what do you want to do today?"
"Well, I was going to go shopping for some clothes."
"Want me to come along so you don't embarrass yourself with some ill-advised purchases?" he asks.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I have impeccable taste?" I pout.
"You're many things, love, but fashionable isn't one of them."
"I'll second that," Henry calls as he walks into the kitchen.
"Oh, and I'm supposed to be taking style tips from you, Mr. Lets-Dye-Our-Hair-Every-Color-of-the-Rainbow?" I retort.
"Hey, at least I never got a mohawk," Henry laughs. I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs some more. "Nice comeback." He pauses and frowns. "Dad, are you making bacon?"
"Yeah, and scrambled eggs. I thought maybe it'd be good brain food since you've got that test today."
"Thanks!" Henry grins and plops down at the table, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "And now that Orli's not a vegetarian, I won't feel guilty eating it in front of him."
"No need to feel guilty, kid," I tell him as we all sit down for breakfast. "I'll even join you in eating the bacon."
Viggo hands out the plates of bacon and eggs, and Henry starts talking a mile a minute about the history test he's going to take today. "So basically, it covers ancient Greek and Roman history. There's twenty multiple choice questions, ten historical phrases that we need to define, and a big-ass essay to write. And we only have forty-five minutes! Can you believe that? Forty-five minutes!"
"Welcome to high school, Henry," Viggo says with a grin.
"Yeah, whatever. So can I ask a question?"
"Sure."
"When are you guys gonna give me a baby brother or sister?"
Viggo chokes around his mouth of scrambled eggs, and I pound him on the back. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he coughs. "I just wasn't expecting that question."
"Are you trying to kill your dad?" I ask Henry, who gives me a very innocent smile in return.
"It's a reasonable question. After all, you guys have been together for, like, three years now. It only took Dad and Exene a year for me to come along."
"Yes, but Orli and I can't have a baby the way your mom and I did," Viggo reminds him.
"Still, you guys could adopt, or something. Maybe you could get some woman to carry your kid -- you know, be a surrogate."
"Why are you asking this?" I ask, trying to get a handle on the situation.
Henry shrugs. "I think it'd be cool to have another kid around. I always liked being an only child, but I really love the idea of being a big brother. And I promise I'd help with the diapers and everything."
"We're not planning on having a kid, Henry," I tell him. "It's sweet that you want a brother or sister, but a baby just isn't something we're thinking about."
"Okay," he sighs. "I just thought that maybe you'd want to have a baby."
Looking over at Viggo, I can see that he's a bit uncomfortable. "Henry, are you almost ready for school?"
"Yeah. Just give me a minute to finish my eggs." He looks at us warily. "I didn't mean to make you guys feel awkward of anything."
"Don't worry about it," Viggo says with a small smile. "Come on, finish your breakfast so I can drive you to school."
*****
When Viggo leaves to take Henry to school, I amble around the house for a bit before deciding to go for a drive. For some reason, I feel very restless. I leave Viggo a note that I'll be back in a few hours and that he should call me on my mobile if he needs me. After looping around the freeway for a while, I head over to the outdoor shopping mall in Rancho Palos Verdes to do some clothes shopping.
I'm standing in the Gap several hours later, looking at some nice (if boring) tee-shirts when I hear a little giggle. Turning around, I see a little girl peeking at me from around a clothing rack. She can't be more than three years old, and she has red pigtails and freckles. When she sees that I'm looking at her, she grins and gives me a little wave.
"Hi," she laughs.
"Hi, there." I wave back at her. "Where's your mummy?"
She points at a woman who scurries over to pick up her daughter. "Maggie, leave the nice man alone," the mother laughs, picking up the little girl.
"It's alright," I tell her. "She's really adorable."
"She's a handful, though," she says. "Okay Maggie, say goodbye."
"Goodbye," the little girl chirps, waving at me again.
"Bye," I call to her. I smile as the mother and daughter walk away, feeling a strange little tugging in my chest. My God, that little girl was *really* cute. That smile was absolutely adorable. Immediately, my mind flashes back to that awkward little conversation at breakfast, and I can't help wonder what it would be like to be a parent.
I walk out of the store, my body on auto-pilot as my brain is fixated on the issue of parenthood. Would I be a good father? Would I know what to do with a baby? I can barely take care of *myself* half of the time, let alone another human being. And while I've become sort of a step-parent to Henry, that's a far cry from having my own child.
As I get in the car and start driving back home, I realize that I need to think about this seriously. After all, Henry's question was a reasonable one -- why did I immediately dismiss it like I did? Sure, I've thought about having kids, but it was always in that category of 'things I'll do years from now'. But I'm already twenty-five, and perhaps I'm closer than I think to being mature enough for parenthood; Viggo was only four years older than I am now when Henry was born.
Deciding not to go home just yet, I drive through the neighborhood until I reach the park. It's a lovely early autumn day, and it'll be nice to relax and clear my head here. Also, there are always plenty of kids at the playground, and I'll get to observe them in their natural habitat. School has ended for the day, and the park is full of adorable little children. I sit myself down on a bench and try not to look conspicuous as I pretend to read an old magazine that I found in the car.
Nobody pays me any mind as I look at the kids playing happily on the jungle gym and in the sandbox, feeling that same tugging sensation in my chest. I've always thought that children are adorable, but this is different. I find myself wondering what it would be like to take my own child to a playground after school, pushing a little boy or girl back and forth on the swings, or catching them at the bottom of the slide.
I wonder what it would be like to hold my baby in my arms, or to have my five-year-old climb into my lap and hug me. I want to teach my child how to ride a bicycle; I want to show them 'The Little Mermaid' and 'The Wizard of Oz'. I want to watch them grow up to become whatever they want to be.
Except that having my own child isn't that simple. First of all, I have no idea if Viggo wants a child. While I know that being a parent is the most important part of his life, he might be completely content to have only one child. Plus, he's going to be forty-four later this month, so he might not be keen on the idea of going back to changing dirty nappies. He's never brought up the issue of children with me in the time we've been together, and maybe I should take that as a sign that he doesn't want any more children. He certainly didn't look very comfortable when Henry raised the issue this morning.
And even if Viggo *does* want another child, we can't simply have our own. We would need to adopt or use a surrogate, and that could be a very lengthy process. There are also a number of people who disapprove of the concept of two men raising a child, and that type of prejudice would follow our son or daughter around as they grow up.
But despite all of those fears and uncertainties, I'm realizing that I truly want to be a parent. You see, parents have this special smile that's reserved for when they're around their children; I've seen it on Pete and Fran's faces, on the faces on both Seans, on Karl's face, and so on. I've seen Viggo smiling what I've dubbed his 'Henry smile' countless times, and it's really a beautiful thing. It's a smile that reflects nothing more than the joy of being a parent. As I watch the children playing in the park, I realize that I want to know what that joy feels like. I want a child.
*****
"So how was shopping?" Viggo calls from the kitchen as I walk into the house. He's standing at the stove, stirring a pot of chili. "Did you buy anything?"
"Uh, yeah. I got a new pair of jeans." I pull out my purchase from the shopping bag and hold them against myself. "What do you think?"
He turns to look at me and grins. "Very fetching. Is that all you bought?"
"Yes." I carefully fold the jeans and place them back in the bag.
"You were gone for a long time. Did you go to a movie or something?"
"No. How long have I been gone?"
"Its almost six-thirty," Viggo tells me. "I hope you weren't off at some seedy motel, engaged in an illicit tryst with another lover," he teases.
"Damn, you caught me," I say with an exaggerated sigh. "I hope you're not angry about me and Bjorn."
"Bjorn?" Viggo laughs. "Dear God, Orli -- why Bjorn?"
I try to keep a straight face, but end up laughing anyway. "We're nutters, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"So chili is on the menu tonight?" I ask as I take an iced tea out of the fridge.
"Mm-hmm. Is that okay?"
"It sounds perfect, actually."
"Henry requested it, and after all the cramming he did for that test, I felt it was the least that I could do." Viggo puts the lid on the pot and leaves it to simmer.
"Where is he?"
"In his room, probably chatting with a friend online instead of doing his homework."
I laugh and sit down at the table with my tea. "What did you end up doing today?"
Viggo shrugs and sits down next to me. "Not much. I read a good chunk of that book I've been trying to get through."
"Nice." I pause for a moment, trying to decide how to tell him what I've been thinking about. Listen Viggo, there's something I want to talk to you about."
He frowns. "What's the matter?"
"Maybe nothing. It's just that . . . . well, what Henry brought up today at breakfast got me thinking."
"Oh yeah?"
I nod. "See, I went to the mall to clear my head and do some shopping, but I was at this store and a little girl was giggling and waving at me. And then I couldn't stop thinking about kids, you know? So I left the mall and went back to the park. I sat by the playground and watched the kids play for a few hours. And it was really amazing. I mean, I never really looked at the little kids and thought, 'wow, I wonder what it would be like to have one of my own.' But that was all I could think about this afternoon."
"Really? And, uh, what did you decide?" Viggo looks nervous, and I briefly wonder if telling him what I've decided is a good idea, especially since I don't know how he feels about the issue. But I have to be honest with him; we both deserve that much.
"I decided that I want a child. Not necessarily right now . . . actually, I know that it *can't* be right now, but still -- I really want to have a child. I want to have a child with *you*."
A huge grin breaks across Viggo's face. "Seriously?"
"Yes," I tell him firmly, my heart in my throat.
"God, I'm so glad you feel that way," he says, still grinning.
"You mean that you want a child, too?" Okay, I'm not sure I was expecting that.
"Of course!"
"But you looked so uncomfortable this morning."
"That was because we'd never talked about it and I didn't know how *you* felt. And then you told Henry that we weren't planning on having a baby, and I thought you definitely didn't want that." Ah. I see. I'm an idiot.
"So you really want to have another child?"
"More than anything." He takes my hand and squeezes it. "Listen, I should have brought this issue up before, but when we first got together . . . I mean, you were only twenty-two, and I know that *I* wasn't planning on being a parent when I was that age. And then so many other issues came up, and I just never mentioned the idea of children to you. I knew that you adored kids, but that doesn't always translate into wanting to have one of your own."
"Hey, I didn't bring it up either. After all, you already have Henry, and I didn't know if you'd want to have a second child."
"Orli, being a father is the best part of my life," Viggo tells me. "Nothing would make me happier than having another child to love, especially since the person I'm having the child with is *you*. I want to have a baby, and I want it to be with the man I love."
"I'm not crying," I insist, blinking back tears.
"Of course you aren't," Viggo chuckles.
"So this is real? You actually want to have a child with me?"
"Yes. We're *going* to have a child."
"But what about all the details? Like how we'll have the kid in the first place."
He laughs. "We can work all of that out later. I was thinking about adopting, but we don't need to decide that right now. And we'll have to wait a little while, too. Obviously, we can't do anything until we come out."
"Oh, I know. I don't feel like I have to have a kid right this second. But I think sooner is better than later."
"Yeah, especially since I'll probably be pushing fifty by the time we get around to it," Viggo says.
"Bollocks. That doesn't matter, Vig. Listen, you know that my dad was in his early sixties when I was born, and I never thought, 'wow, I wish I had a younger father.' Even though he died when I was little, I still felt lucky to have him as my dad, regardless of how old he was. And besides, fifty is *not* old; you're going to be around for a long time, so don't worry about that."
He smiles and pulls me in for a kiss. "I love you, Orlando."
"I love you, too."
"You are going to be a wonderful father."
"You think so?"
"I know so. You have the most incredible heart, and you give so much love and support to those you care about."
"Thank you," I say softly.
"You're welcome."
"Well, *you're* already a great dad. And I know Henry thinks so, too."
"Thanks." We kiss again. "Listen, we're coming out in January of 2004; that's fifteen months from now."
"Yeah."
"I was thinking that maybe a year after we come out would be the right time to have a child. We'll be adjusted to being out by then, your career will be established enough so that you can take a paternity leave--"
"Let's hope so," I laugh.
Viggo grins. "I think that three years from now is when we should plan to have a child."
"And we're just having one, right? I mean, I love kids, but I'm not sure I have the energy for a bunch of little toddlers."
"One sounds good," he chuckles. "God knows that just having Henry has given me a few gray hairs."
"And they look so good on you," I tease, running a finger over his temple.
"You're crazy," he laughs. "And I love you."
"Love you back. So this is it, huh? We're really going to do this in a few years?"
"We really are."
"Can we keep this a secret? You know, just between us?"
"Sure."
"Wait, actually there's someone we should tell," I say.
"Who's that?"
"Henry." We both laugh. "After all, it was his comment that finally got us talking about this. And we know that he won't tell anybody."
"Except maybe Exene."
"Well, I can live with that."
Viggo chuckles. "Okay, then -- we'll tell Henry. He'll be thrilled."
I smile and kiss Viggo once more. "Not as thrilled as we are."
