It was one of the most ridiculous thoughts living in my head—and I had a lot of fucking odd thoughts up there—because I'd never imagined this for myself. Under no construct had my future ever included a wife, children, or anything beyond functional alcoholism and a thinly leashed contempt for the universe as I knew it.
But I had a recurring vision of Tiel teaching our babies music. Us going camping and fishing with our kids. Our little family eating dinner and celebrating holidays around the table I built. And I wanted those visions to be real.
We'd stopped using condoms after a long weekend away when we each thought the other packed them, and Tiel went on a rant about hating how they made her hands smell like old tires. There was also a talk about how we were a little obsessed with each other, and wanted to be together for always, and we wanted some tiny humans in our lives. Maybe a lot of tiny humans.
"I'm very goal-oriented. You give me a target and I'll hit it," I said.
"Oh, youhit itall right," she said with a snort.
"When will we, uh…" I cleared my throat. She didn't love it when I asked about these things. "When will we know?"
Tiel studied my tie, her bottom lip wiggling between her teeth. "Two weeks, or so." She looked up at me. "After yesterday, I'm thinking it's a sure thing."
I didn't ask why yesterday was any different from the past two months, instead bending to kiss my fiancée's forehead. "Just wait until tonight. Maybe you should clear your schedule for the week. Rest up. Let me hit the target some more."
"Let's not forget about all the meetings I have, or all the journal articles I have to finish, or the classes I have to teach."
The excitement in her eyes dimmed, but she quickly blinked it away as if she could hide her frustration from me. She didn't love her new job as an associate professor of music therapy, and though she hadn't come out and said it yet, it was the worst-kept secret in the home we shared with Riley.
There were times when I'd find her sitting in the firehouse's old communal showers-turned-studio, staring at her instruments or sheet music with none of the hunger and passion I'd once seen from her. It started shortly after she moved in here, and there was a period of time when I attributed her unease to me, and our new living arrangement. But I learned that my free-spirited girl liked this taste of the settled life, and it didn't take long to map the crests and crashes of her moods to her gig in academia.
She'd bring it up when she was ready, and I wasn't meant to rush her.
"But seriously, I'm a sure thing," she said. She held up her hand, inclining her head toward the pink diamond ring. "You can retire the pick-up lines now."
Her hand wrapped around my belt, she dragged me into the kitchen and pointed to a chair across from Riley. He looked up with a quick nod, and promptly returned to his sports page. He hated reading—always had—but he was devoted to his New England teams and didn't enjoy interruptions to his daily study of the stats.
Also, he wasn't a morning person. He didn't start speaking in complete sentences until shortly before lunch, and even then, it was limited to discussions of food.
Tiel set a spinach-papaya-cucumber smoothie beside me, and sat down with a bagel and jar of cream cheese in hand. Riley acknowledged her with a jut of his chin, and she said, "He put a ring on it."
"That's awesome," Riley said, the sleepy fog clearing from his eyes and his face breaking into a wide smile. "Awesome, just awesome. Everyone's getting married around here."
I was about to agree when Tiel said, "Wait. What? Did I miss something?"
Riley blinked to the side, his mouth open as if words were stuck on his tongue. "No. Right," he said. "Matt and Lauren, and now you guys. That's it. No one else. My bad."
Tiel and I glanced at each other, confused.
"Riley," she started, "is there something you're not telling us?" He shook his head vigorously. "Areyouseeing someone?"
He shoved the spoon in his mouth and shook his head again. "No," he said around his cereal. "I'm not ready or looking for a commitment right now. I'm working on myself."
Tiel turned to face me. "Did he learn that line from you?"
"If he did, he didn't learn it recently," I scoffed.
"You didn't actually answer that question, Riley. So…you're not seeing anyone?" she asked. "Nothing casual? Not even a friend with benefits? None of that?"
"No," Riley said. "I was with one chick on and off through college, but she was fucking crazy. I mean,fucking crazy. Art chicks are freaky. Like outdoor cats. I've been a lone wolf since Dorrance."
"Outdoor cat?" Tiel said. "I don't understand that reference."
"Dorrance?" I repeated.
"Middle name," Riley said. "Her first name's Kacie, but she started going by her middle name when she got to art school. Like I said, outdoor cat."
"What's an outdoor cat?" Tiel said.
