She slept with someone in Fall Out Boy and all she got were these stupid hormones.
/"Hello?" /Patrick answered the phone, still ironing.
"Patrick, I am going to cry. I came home and she was sprawled out on the bed trying to entice me."
Patrick stifled a laugh over the phone.
"So what happened?"
"I told her no, and then she stormed out again."
"Well, you'll just have to leave her be for a while."
"We should go on vacation. Or away for the weekend."
"I really doubt Rachel wants to go on vacation."
"No, I mean you and me."
"Uh, I don't think so."
"Why not? You can let Danni and Josh stay with Rachel. She'd love that."
"Pete, forget it. I am not going to leave two hyper, over excited children with an eight month pregnant woman. The last thing she needs is to be exhausted by them. She'll need to rest and conserve her energy,"
Patrick rolled his eyes as he laid out a shirt on the ironing board.
"God, Pete, are you stupid? For everything. For labor, motherhood, everything. Get a grip, you have to understand these things now."
"Argh! Take my side for once, here!"
"I always take your side."
"Look, why don't you run a bath for her or something?"
"Because it will relax her. And then you can join her and you can both relax together. Then you're not having sex with her, but she still feels wanted."
"That's not a bad idea, Stumpy."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Thanks, Patrick. I owe you." Pete said. "Bye."
"Bye." Patrick hung up, folding the shirt he'd just ironed.
"You owe me so much anyway." He said to the empty room.
Later, Pete walked downstairs and into the living room where Rachel was sitting with her feet up on the coffee table, eating her dinner, Hemingway beside her curled up on the couch.
"What?" She asked, her eyes staying on the screen.
"Can I show you something?"
"If it's how you can flip your eyelids up again, no." She said, curtly.
"Then if you're wanting to show me some picture of chicks making out on the internet, no."
"It's not that, either." He said, gently.
"What is it, then?"
"Can I just show you?" He asked, holding his hand out. She sighed.
Pete helped her up and led her up the stairs, guiding her with his hand on her back. Taking her into their bedroom, he gently pushed the bathroom door open and bowed her inside.
"My God, Pete. What on earth?" Rachel gasped, taking in the bathroom. Pete had thrown a small red sheet over the lamp, causing a red glow to spread around the bathroom. He'd lit groups of candles around the bath, in the shower, on the counter and on top of the toilet tank. In the background, was a slow jazz album playing, Pete had read that it relaxed people and, in this case, Rachel really needed to relax.
Pete bit his lip. /Damn. /She hated it.
Rachel turned around and Pete flinched and closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him.
"You are the most amazing man I've ever met." She said. He opened his eyes, surprised.
"Really, really." She said, kissing him. He grinned while she kissed him, and pulled her close.
"So what are you waiting for? Get in." He said, pulling his own shirt off and posing.
"Man. I could just fall asleep here." Pete said, twenty minutes later, lying back against the bathroom wall as he sat in the bath with Rachel.
"Well, don't. 'Cause people drown like that. And that's the last thing we want." Rachel said, flicking water onto his face to awaken him. He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, you did not just do that."
"I think I did!"
"You are so for it." Pete grinned, splashing her back as she squealed.
"No! Pete! Stop it!"
"Don't mind me." Pete said, simply walking into Patrick's house the next day, like he always had done. He entered the living room to find Patrick ironing, yet again, while Andy was sitting watching a kid's TV show.
"Do you ever stop ironing?" Pete asked Patrick.
"It's hard with three people and only one is able to work an iron." Patrick objected. "Hi, by the way."
"Hey." Pete said, scanning the room. "Is your son having an epileptic fit?" Pete asked, looking at Josh, who was continually bouncing around the room.
"Tigger!" Josh yelled, still jumping around.
"Tigger?" Pete questioned Patrick, who shrugged.
"New obsession." He said, holding up a new Tigger teddy.
"Ah. You know, I always thought Eeyore was the coolest." Pete said, sitting down on the floor and leaning against the couch.
"NO!" Josh said.
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." Pete said, looking up at Patrick.
"Don't start him off. He was up at 4AM this morning asking me to take him to a bridge and play 'pooh sticks'."
"Hey, that's cool." Pete argued.
"Not so cool at 4AM." Patrick replied.
Pete looked around the living room.
Patrick nodded upstairs.
"She's in her room. 'Baking'."
"Baking? How does a three year old bake on her own?"
"It's this new... I can't remember, an Easy Bake oven or something? They're for kids. And they make cakes and stuff." Patrick leant closer towards Pete and whispered in his ear.
"Personally, I think it's pretty shitty." He grinned, straightening up and continuing to iron. "But it makes her happy. You just have to smile and pretend you actually like the cakes. They're gross though. But don't tell her I told you that. She'd bake me if she heard me saying that."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Uh, sweetie, why don't you come down and let Uncle Pete have a cake?" He called. He went to the stairs to make sure she didn't fall down and picked her up as she slid down them towards him.
"Hi!" She said, excitedly to Pete as she caught sight of him.
"Hey, girlfriend." Pete said, trying to sound 'ghetto'. "What's up?"
"Cake!" She said, shoving one into his hand.
"You know what? I just ate." Pete said, with a smile.
"Uh, I would eat it unless you want to get punched. She's freakishly strong." Patrick advised him.
"Tell her it's good." He whispered, walking past him. Pete felt like retching, but he smiled and have Danielle the thumbs up.
"Awesome." He mumbled.
"Why don't you make Pete some more?" Andy asked.
"Haha." Andy said to Pete as Danielle ran out of the room.
"Well, I'm going to kill you." Pete said, as Patrick handed him a tissue and he spat out his food.
"I'll give you something to be terrified about - I can call Rachel and get her to sit on you."
"You brought it upon yourself."
"Okay, you guys, Andy needs some advice." Andy said.
"And why refer to yourself in the third person?" Pete asked.
"Pete, shut it. What's up?" Patrick asked Andy, who shifted. He was looking surprisingly serious.
"I think I want to propose to Louise."
There was a serious of cheers as the guys clapped him on the back.
"Yay! How cool. Oh my God, we could have a double wedding!" Pete said, excitedly.
"Uh, I'll pass." Andy said, with a nervous laugh. "What do you guys think?"
"I call best man!" Joe said, his hand shooting in the air, reminiscent of a few years ago when Patrick had told them he was going to be a father.
"You can't call best man." Pete said. The conversation was beginning to be very memory wrenching for them.
"Okay, guys, I think we've had this conversation before."
"I want to be best man." Joe said.
"You would all be my best man. So do you guys think I should?"
"It's your decision, Andy." Pete said. "It's a big commitment."
"Who would have thought that Pete Wentz would speak those words?"
"Hey, people always assume I'm this big man whore kinda thing. Or used to be. I've always treated women nicely."
Joe blew a raspberry at him and then jumped.
"Wow, Andy, you should have chocolate wedding cake!"
Andy groaned, followed by Patrick and Pete simultaneously.
"I should have told you separately."
"Alright, I better go." Pete said, a few hours later when the sun started to go down. Andy had left around an hour before, beginning to get tired of Joe's constant whining, and Joe had tried to follow him out the door, still pestering him. He had retreated back into the house when Andy threatened to mow him down in his car.
"Off for some loving?" Patrick teased.
"No! Well, yes, but not that sort. Every moment with Rachel is getting some loving." He said with a smile.
"My name is Joe! Hear me ROAR!" Joe said, walking into the living room, which was now filled with silence.
"What?" He asked, feeling everyone's eyes on him.
"You suck!" Danielle laughed, pointing at him.
"Danielle! I keep telling you not to use that word. And please, stop pointing at people."
After Pete had left, Patrick was writing out a grocery list while Danielle lay on the floor, looking through Patrick's bag without him noticing. It was packed for a few shows they were scheduled to do in a few large cities, New York, LA, Chicago and more down south. Josh sat in the corner playing with his toy box.
"Daddy, who's that?" Danielle asked, pointing to the photo Patrick had once stared at so many times, now laid out on the floor. The photo of him, Amanda, and Danielle and Josh when they were approaching their first birthday.
"Oi, I told you not to go through my bag, Miss. What is it?" He asked, leaning over her to see. "Oh, that. Well, that's you," he pointed to Danielle, "And Josh and me."
"No! Who's that?" She asked, wise enough not to touch the glass of the frame.
"Well, that's Daddy's old friend."
"What's her name?"
"Her name's Amanda."
"It is, yes."
"Yeah, she is."
"Where is she?"
Patrick froze and then bit his lip.
"She, uh... she went up to the stars." He told her.
"Why did she go there?"
"Because... she loved the stars. And she wanted to see them up real close."
"Can we go see her?"
"Mmm. Not today, sweetie. One day, yes."
"You embarrass me." Patrick sighed to Josh as he laid the shopping bags on the table the day after. He'd once again had the embarrassment of Josh having a screaming fit in the aisle of Wal-Mart, causing anyone and everyone to stare, and Patrick's face to flush right until he got in the front door. It appeared that Josh only had voluntary screaming fits, where and when he decided would be the best place to humiliate Patrick.
"I got it!" Josh yelled as the phone started ringing.
"Josh, if you touch that phone, I swear..." Patrick said, chasing him out of the room into the hallway.
"Hiiiiiiii!" Josh sang, picking up the phone, Patrick screeching to a halt at his heels.
"Give me that. Go to your room and think about what you did today." Patrick said, pointing upstairs. Josh blew a raspberry at him and sauntered upstairs, leaving Patrick wondering how his son had such an attitude.
'Hello?" He said, wearily into the phone.
""Dude, I need a big, big favor." Pete said.
"Do you ever stop calling my house? I swear, the amount of problems you have, you should go on Oprah."
"Whatever. Look, please, can you do this favor for me?"
Patrick made an indecisive moan.
"What is it?"
"I have to go to an urgent meeting for Clandestine. It's this new shirt I'm launching, it's green with little bits of..."
"Just tell me the favor. Not your life story."
"Okay, uh, well, because I won't be here, I can't make Rachel's doctor appointment."
"Oh, no. /Pete/." Patrick almost whined.
"Please, please, please can you go with her? I don't want her to go alone but I can't miss this meeting."
"Well, why can't Joe or Andy go?"
"Well, one, if Andy went, Joe follows him like, everywhere. And would you really want to be in a tiny room with Joe for ages?"
"I guess not. But..."
"Please, Patrick, it would mean the world to me."
"What am I going to do with the kids?" Patrick asked, trying to find any reason in the book not to go. Not because he was selfish, he just hated to admit that although it was particularly funny watching Pete get snapped at by Rachel all the time and moan about it, he'd much rather he wasn't the one on the receiving end. He was just too polite to tell Pete that right now, Rachel really frightened him.
"Get Andy and Joe to watch them. Please?"
Patrick groaned and gave in.
"Fine. When is it?"