Julia

When I didn't answer right away, Freddie's eyes drifted out toward the rink once more. All was calm for a minute or two, before he said a bit wryly, "In case you've forgotten, the question was, what happened to Danny's father?"

"Dammit, I was hoping you'd forgotten," I chuckled. "Would you mind first telling me why it's so important that you-"

"No," Freddie popped back, an unmistakable note of triumph glowing in his tone.

A small cloud of white vapor left my mouth as I sighed in defeat. "The man is on to me."

"Mm. I'm afraid there's no getting round it this time, my dear. I know you and your tricks far too well."

"Yes, I know. I'm quite a predictable animal."

"I didn't say that. I said- well, you heard what I said. I'm not going to say it again, it's much too cold for me to keep repeating myself this way."

But still I hesitated. For this was a serious matter, one I should have handled much more delicately in the beginning. Regardless of how much less damaging a lie had appeared in the moment, when Freddie first struggled in even uttering the words to ask whether he had fathered my boy, this move of convenience had only served as another insurmountable barrier that strained our interactions countless times, and more often than not kept what peace we found needlessly superficial.

As long as he doesn't touch me, or yell, or cry, I'll be okay, I tried to bolster myself. Basically, all that has to happen is for him to have absolutely no emotional reaction to the news- and everything will be fine. Because that is totally the most probable thing to go down. Freddie Mercury, the most emotionally turbulent man I have ever met in my life, being completely unaffected by the news that the nine-year-old boy he's grown so fond of this last week is his child. What could be more likely?

For an instant, I had the idea of throwing niceties to the wind and just stating point blank that Freddie and Danny's father were in fact a single entity, just to get this exhausting charade over with at last. And in retrospect, that's probably what I should have done.

But, then again, it would not have been appropriate to just randomly blurt out, "You are Danny's father, he is your son, and while I'm at it, you are still and always shall be the love of my life. There. How do you like them apples?" As deliciously concise as that seemed on the surface, such an approach dripped with insincerity and cheapened the gravity of the situation. If we were taking this fall, I wanted to let us down easy, allow the idea to insinuate itself a little more smoothly into his mind rather than let it blow up in his face. I had waited this long to tell him; I figured I might as well do it right.

Which was why, before I launched into any kind of response, I needed clarification on one crucial detail that would determine how I crafted every other sentence that followed.

I said to Freddie, "First, I need you to explain what 'yes and no' means."

He squinted. "What?"

"At the restaurant, when I asked you about wanting children yourse-"

"What does that have to do with anything?" he scoffed, suddenly defensive.

"Because it was a non-answer."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Oh my God-"

"Look, if I'm going to be honest with you- and I will- I need you to be honest with me," I told him, "and 'yes and no' is nothing more than a cop-out unless there's some kind of reasoning attached. This is a two-way street we're walking here after all."

"Julia, I don't even know what I meant, all right? I just- I mean- I can't say that- I can't rule it out entirely, I think is what I meant."

I nodded. "That's all I wanted to know."

But it seemed that was not all he wanted to say. Freddie continued, "I mean- it doesn't really matter at that. Because as far as I'm concerned- the only way I would even ever have kids, really, is under very, very, very specific circumstances, and it is much too late for that to happen now so I might as well not ever have a family, because- the only way I could, or would- it's not even a possibility any longer. But if it was- then- that's another story."

He was saying so much by saying practically nothing at all; my heart lifted with hope. For I knew that if Freddie really and truly did not want kids under any circumstances, I should have received a firm, resounding "Absolutely not!" or a "What,are you mad? What would I f---ing want kids for?" if he was feeling especially colorful. But his answer could not have been any more ambiguous, even now- and ambiguity, especially coming from him, meant so much more than even a straight-up, unabashed "yes".

Okay, let's do this. Baby steps.

One deep breath, and I began. "You're, uh- very good with children, you know."

Freddie shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not the greatest at it, it's not like I have some special touch or whatever, I just - talk to them."

"Sometimes that's all it takes," I replied gently. "I've seen the way you interact with Danny. You don't exactly get down on his level, you bring him up to yours. That doesn't happen very often, it's usually the other way around."

"I don't always like kids, though. Just the nice ones. Mack's are lovely, and John's children seem to be all right. And Brian and Roger have nice families as well." Freddie smiled at me. "And like I said before, I think Danny's very special."

"Well, of course he is," I quipped matter-of-factly. "He's mine."

He blinked. "Exactly."

I swallowed hard. Oh, Freddie...

Here it was, my bright, shining opportunity being handed to me on a silver platter.

But then Freddie coughed and continued, "But, uh- what's more, I know that- if I actually did have children, lifestyle and things aside- I wouldn't like them."

The complete about-face threw me off. "...What?"

"You see, I think- I like other people's children, but I doubt I'd care much for my own."

"How- how do you know?"

"Because they'd be too much like me." He punctuated this with a laugh, but I heard no joy in the sound.

With shaking hands, I lit myself another cigarette. "I don't understand."

"Darling, I was a perfect little beast when I was a boy," Freddie replied. "I screamed, and kicked, threw fits that made my mum think I was possessed. I might have been, for all I know. But no, I was an absolute terror."

I bit my lip, my disobedient mind conjuring up memories of Danny when he was around three years old- a time when he was inordinately fascinated by ghosts and himself seemed hell-bent on scaring me to death, whether that meant running off to God-knows-where the moment my back was turned or having tantrums of apocalyptic proportions. That difficult phase had not lasted long, thank the Lord- but it nonetheless proved Freddie's point.

"Even terrors grow up, though, and can become really fine people," I whispered.

Freddie shook his head. "I can't wait that long. To be honest, I cannot see myself trying to keep up with a whole brood of little brats running all around my house, breaking things, making a mess, screaming from morning to night. I'd probably end up jumping out a window or something."

"Children are a challenge, true," I conceded weakly, ears ringing with the contempt in which he murmured the word "brats". "But- I thought you loved a good challenge."

"It depends on the thing- and kids don't count. They're not so much a stretch of the muscles as they are a strain on the nerves, I think."

"Does that go for Danny as well?"

He didn't answer me. "And I personally wouldn't be any good to them anyway; I mean, yes, look at what I did to Danny- and I've only been here a week!"

With every word he uttered, the clearer it became that this had been a mistake. "But this afternoon, you-"

"Doesn't matter. The point is, I'm just not a family man. It's not what I'm here for. The life I live is the life I have chosen. Children don't enter into it, nor should they. If the others want children, they can have them. As for me, I'm here to sing, to dance, and to f---. That's my purpose. No more, no less."

I took a drag off my fresh cigarette and let the smoke out slowly, watching the breeze carry it away from my lips. Suddenly I was grateful for the icy weather; it distracted the rest of me from all the crazy things going on in my head, the cold air seeming to freeze my tears in their ducts before they could slip freely down my cheeks, as they were threatening to do even now.

So much for "five mini-mes and six mini-yous."

I really should not have been surprised. I had believed for a long time that this was how he felt about children; that they were nicest and most desirable when they were not his responsibility. It was simply even more a blow to the jaw, hearing those words, and those feelings, when I was the one who had actually borne his offspring.

Maybe being Freddie Mack's godfather is as near as he'll ever get to a family of his own- but in the long run, it's also as near as he really wants to get, I thought. It's just not a top priority for him. Never was. He likes kids from a distance, loves them at arm's length. Any closer, and they become a nuisance.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I didn't stay after all," I murmured.

Yes, you read right. I actually said that. On our bridge. To Freddie. On our "last day".

By all rights, it's a miracle I lived to tell the tale.

However, I had no clue I had even spoken this sentence aloud, till out of my peripheral vision I saw Freddie turn ever so slowly and ask in the most deadpan tone I had ever heard him use, "...What... what did you say?"

I reluctantly cleared my throat, knowing there was no clean way to back out of this one. "I said, if that's the way you feel, then, uh- it's a good thing I didn't stick around."

As bad a move as I knew this was deep down, and as completely as it contradicted my own feelings, the words were somehow therapeutic. That doesn't make a lot of sense when written down or read, but it's true. This one last horrible lie gave me strength- and I would take any and all help right about now.

"It's... a... good thing?" he repeated. "Is that- is that what you said?"

I stared out at the ice rink. "Yes, that's right."

"Mm, yes, that's what I thought you said. Now would you, um- would you mind telling me, dear, what the f--- that's supposed to mean, exactly?"

"Well, think about it," I replied in what was meant to be my most reasonable tone. "Think of the way we were, once we started - I mean, you and I, we didn't- we were very careless, we didn't use any sort of protection, we acted like nothing was going to happen."

"Oh, we did?" His lips twitched over his teeth.

"Y-yes," I stammered. "And- I mean, had we kept on that way, it was inevitable we would have, uh- we would have conceived and had a child. You can only get away with those things for so long."

Freddie was silent.

"So, uh, if that's the way you feel- because we never really talked about it, we sort of joked about it a few times, but we didn't ever sit down and discuss things like that seriously. Not that we should have, considering how long we were even together, but if that's how you honestly feel about having a family- then I suppose it all worked out."

As I finished speaking, his fingertips started tapping out a steady rhythm against the stone wall. I could have sworn I heard his breathing grow more shallow, more uneven.

"Yes, I suppose it did," he murmured. "For you, at least."

I squinted. "Me?"

"After all, darling, if you hadn't left me, you never would have found that dear little rat you're so fond of."

"What rat? Stuart?"

"No, no, the other one," Freddie corrected me. "You know, the bastard that f---ed a baby into you and left. That rat."

My gaze dropped to my feet, the ice in his throat making me shiver. "Oh. That one."

"Mm. Speaking of which, you still haven't answered me. Whatever became of him?"

Just then, my phone vibrated once more. "Freddie, I think Danny's rehearsal just ended-"

"Let him wait," Freddie cut me off sharply.

"But-"

"I said, let him f---ing wait. Now, answer me."

My knees began to shake- which was a very bad sign. But for all my fear and rapidly deteriorating sanity, I was past trying to avoid confrontation.This was a path I didn't want to tread, and a tone I didn't want to strike, in this sweet, sacred place. But as much as the circumstances stung, I had made up my mind; he needed to know. Freddie had the right. I had let the truth fly so far off-course for so long, it was up to me to bring it back home in this, the eleventh hour.

His hand clamped down on my arm. "You are going to answer me, aren't you, Julia?" he demanded impatiently.

I stammered, hoping to high heaven I wouldn't start crying, "Of- course I am! I just need-"

"I don't care," he snarled. "I know exactly what you're doing, you've done it before. If you think that you can just stand here and sort of wait me out-"

"Did it ever occur to you this might not be the easiest thing in the world to talk about?" I asked. "How about giving me a break?"

"No. You've had long enough and I'm bloody tired of playing cat and mouse. We are not getting off this g--d--- bridge until you tell me why that motherf---r left you!"

"He didn't."

"That's not an a-" Freddie did a double take. "What do you mean, he- didn't?"

I shut my eyes. "He didn't leave me, Freddie. I- I left him."

Geronimo.

For it had begun. There was no going back now. I had leapt off the cliff, sans parachute, sans safety net, hurtling at terminal velocity toward the hard, brutal truth I now had no choice but to tell.

"I see," he sighed aloud, after what seemed to be ages. "You know, I'm- seeing something of a pattern here."

I looked at him. "Pattern?"

Freddie didn't explain, and instead took one menacing step closer, standing so near now that his nose practically brushed against my cheek as he hissed, "So then, tell me. What was his problem?"

I didn't answer.

"I asked you a question, Julia," he whispered, lips grazing my ear with every syllable. "What was his problem?"

I shivered, mouth pressing in a straight tight line. "His -problem?"

"You know. What was it that he did that made you grab Danny and walk out on him? What little thing did he do? Did he, um- tie his shoelaces wrong or something? Did he misspell a word in a note one day?"

"Freddie, what are you even getting at-"

"Did he cum too soon? What?"

Freddie, quit talking like this. I can't tell you about Danny if this is how you're going to be- and I do have to tell you! I must! Please stop!

But he didn't. "Oh, come on darling, out with it, I am ever so curious," Freddie spurred. "Was his c--- too small? Was that it?"

I covered my face, pressing my raw palms against my heating, flushed cheeks. "Freddie, please don't-"

"No? Well, then- was it too big? Bigger even than mine?"

"Stop it."

"Was that the problem, Julia? His d--- too big for your tight little c---?"

My throat felt so thick I could hardly even swallow. "Freddie, this is the end, why are you saying these things to me?"

"Why do you ask?" he whispered, a subtle, yet unnerving, vibration under his words. "Does it hurt? Does it hurt to be spoken to this way? Don't be ridiculous. You don't know what it is to be hurt, you're far too busy hurting everyone else, whether that's me, or Danny's father, or anyone else who even remotely cares for you."

"Listen," I gasped in desperation, "listen to m-"

"Tell me, dear," he interrupted, lifting my chin to face him. "Did you just walk out on him, or did you give him the works?"

"...Works?"

"You know, as in, did you make him sign a f---ing contract?"

I hadn't expected him to shout the last two words; I stumbled a few steps back, cowering against the other side of the bridge. Immediately Freddie reined himself in again, mumbled a half-hearted apology for shouting. Strange, how his mind worked; he could deliver numerous undermining sexual remarks and scarcely even think of taking them back- but raising his voice solicited an apology. Go figure.

"It's all right," I lied. "And no, I- didn't make him sign anything."

"Mm," he nodded, lowering his eyes. "So- that was a little touch you saved all for me, then?"

He was oscillating far too swiftly between sincerity and bitter sarcasm for me to tell him now; I remained silent.

At least, until without warning he asked me, "Do you still love him, Julia?"

I blinked. "What does that-"

"Because I need to know," he murmured. "I want you to tell me. You basically left me for him, I just- wondered if you - if you still consider it worth the leaving."

"Freddie, I didn't leave you for-"

"Yes, you did. After all, you basically sort of coupled up with him in a matter of what, weeks? Days? It happened fairly quickly, didn't it?"

"Very."

"Right." His eyes drifted away from mine again, before I could see just how unhappy they now looked. "Now, tell me truthfully, darling: do you still love his father?"

For once, I didn't take forever to answer. Somehow I found the strength to meet his eyes straight on, and I answered, in complete, unadulterated honesty: "Yes, I do love him."

His face twitched. "Even though you left him?"

"Even though I left him."

Freddie's full lips pursed, his cheeks flushing a moment before blanching out again. "I see," he whispered. "I just- needed to hear you say it for yourself, I think. The others all said so, and you told Danny as much this morning, but I- I'm glad you told me."

It's you, Freddie! I screamed inwardly. It's you! It's always been you, no one else! Tell him, you coward! It's slipping away from you! Don't let it end this way! What's the matter with you? Tell him! TELL HIM! But the words wouldn't budge.

"You are a faithless woman, Julia," he informed me suddenly. "It's one thing to walk away from me. Everyone does that, so that's nothing new. But to walk away from a man you love? A man you had a child by? Well, then, my God. You can walk away from anyone."

"I had my reasons." Strange, how measured my voice still sounded, when inside I was going stark raving mad with grief. "Believe me."

Freddie leaned forward, stared deep into my eyes for a long, dark minute.

"Of course you did, darling," he sighed at last. "You always do."

I could see all over his face, there was more, so much more, left to be said- but once again, he chose to stop there.

Letting out a deep, exhausted sigh, Freddie rubbed his eyes, put his hands in his pockets, and began making his way back off the bridge. "Well. I suppose, um- now we should be making our way back, if that was Danny. Was it?"

I checked, then nodded, watching his feet as he turned on his heel, slowly put one cold foot in front of the other. But I stayed put, my legs keeping me stationary. I couldn't move. Not yet.

I knew now how he supposedly felt about a family, but I no longer cared. I had nothing to lose, for he would have nothing to remember; my whole world was collapsing around me, my greatest love was walking away, leaving me alone as I had left him- as I deserved to be left. There was only one thing left to do. My eyes closed.

I didn't breathe, I didn't clear my throat. I didn't do anything to get his attention one last time. The words just choked out, as though too they had been waiting for this moment all along.

"He's yours."