Nicholas
Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father.
My good mood is gone. Hell, Molly’s good mood is gone.
I was so happy when I woke up and she said she’d made coffeefor us. It was like we were a real couple enjoying a domestic morning scene.
But of course that couldn’t last. Mom and Dad justhadto send those women! What the hell were they thinking?
Actually, the real problem is that they don’t think. Or when they do, it’s for their own selfish reasons.
I go to the kitchen and grab my coffee. Whether the brew is my thing or not is irrelevant—Molly could make me a laxative cocktail and I’d drink it. Then I go to the living room corner farthest from the kitchen to make a call. My parents’ crazy attempts to get me to impregnate a woman of their choice are going to endnow.
A couple of rings later, my mother answers. She has a slightly breathless and girlish voice, more suited to a woman half her age. I’m certain it’s fake—up to last December she sounded like a chipmunk because she’d decided that a woman sounding like she was full of helium was “fun” and “sexy.”
“Nicholas! Darling! Howareyou?”
“Mom, how could—”
“Have you seen the women I sent? Are they there now? What do you think?”
“No, they—”
“Any of them do it for you? No need to consider life goals or long-term compatibility or that sort of thing. Just picture how half of you mixed with half of them would look like.”
“Mother!I told you no.”
“AndItoldyouI want a grandchild! Emma has one and Rachel hasthree. Why can’t I? I’m just as good as they are. And you are just as capable of fathering a child as Emmett and Griffin because you’re—my—son!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. We’ve had this argument before, but she doesn’t listen. She saw baby photos from Emma and Rachel and now is convinced she simply has to have a grandbaby as well. And she’ll value the baby about as much as she did the birthday party she asked me to plan before she skipped it to go to Madrid.
Mom can hurt me all she wants. She’s already damaged me enough, making promises she doesn’t remember to keep, but also making me feel like I’m the center of her universe when she’s with me. Our relationship isn’t exactly healthy, but I’ve accepted it for what it is because I understand she’ll never change or comprehend what she’s done. But I’m not letting her do the same to a child of mine.
“Mom, listen to me very,verycarefully. I am not, I repeat,notgoing to have a baby simply to suit your whim. Clear?”
When I have a baby, it’s going to be with the woman I love—Molly. I can imagine how cute the child will be with Molly’s wide green eyes. Or her button nose, complete with a dusting of freckles.
Jesus. My heart beats funny. That kid’s going to have me wrapped around her chubby little finger. And I won’t care. I’ll lay the world at her feet.
“Don’t be so cruel!” Mom whines. “I’m not asking you to carry them for nine months!”
She’s completely missed the point. “You want them at the moment, but once something flashier catches your attention, you won’t even remember that you have a grandchild.”
“Don’t be absurd! I’m not that bad.”
“You told me the same thing when you asked me to plan your birthday party.”
As usual, she doesn’t register a word she doesn’t want to hear. “Besides, unlike your father, I selected your women for both IQandlooks, so my grandchild will be smart and beautiful. You’re welcome.”
Suddenly,Dad comes online. “Don’t worry. I was able to stick one into the mix. The hottest one. Pick her.I want a hot baby.”
“What the hell are you doing with Mom?”
“I happen to be in Madrid too and have an hour to spare,” he says.
“What does Paul think about you two?” I demand, furious my parents are plotting against me. If they didn’t get along well enough to marry, they shouldn’t get along well enough to come after me together.
“He knows I don’t go back for second helpings.” Dad sounds entirely too cheerful, like he’s proud of what he just said.
