“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she meant or what I want her to mean.
Abby shrugs a shoulder and looks at me a bit stuck on what to say. “I just mean, we don’t really know what we’re doing, do we? And even though we’re in our thirties, not having our parents on the sidelines would be a great bonus.”
I consider what she’s saying, and it makes sense. “I guess you have a point… what are we doing?”
She looks at me, hopeless. “I really don’t know, but I hope I’m not just a distraction for you or the rebound.” Abby is candid, and it makes me appreciate her all the more.
I touch both of her shoulders and turn her, so we’re face to face. “Hey, originally I thought a rebound was what I needed. But you aren’t a rebound or distraction. I don’t know what we’re doing either, but it feels good. Let’s just see where it goes.” My hand caresses her cheek, and her eyes settle with my own.
“That sounds good, Lucas.” The words float in the air, feathery as she gently smiles. Without thought, I plant a kiss on her lips that is a little heavy for a weeknight run to Target. But I enjoy living on the wild side.
After heading to the crafts section, Abby helps me find stencils for making space shapes on the bedroom wall of Theo’s room. We swing by the food aisles to throw in some snacks for later, and somehow Abby convinces me that hummus and carrots are a good idea—I throw in some popcorn and cookies for backup. We have a good laugh when we’re in the checkout listening to a teenager in the next aisle on his phone talking about a party this Friday. It makes us recall all the shit we each got up to as teenagers.Good times.
Heading back to her place, she lets Romeo out in the back when we arrive before we make out on the kitchen counter. When the dog returns inside, she fills a red toy with peanut butter and tells me we have a solid twenty minutes of the dog behaving. We use every second riding each other into unconsciousness, and I didn’t want it to end. It’s a high, and she is the one who takes me there.
* * *
The next day,Abby stops by my new house after work. I have to admit that I show off my place as I’m happy with the result. Custom-built cabinets in the kitchen with grey-white marble that took forever for delivery and is absolutely worth it, open living room, pool out back, three bedrooms—including the master, which we made several jokes about its importance.
Now she’s helping me paint the stencils of stars, moons, and rocket ships on the accent wall of dark blue that I painted on my lunchbreak. She is sexy in her ripped jeans and old t-shirt, and it’s making it hard for me to focus.
She pours more gold paint into the tray. “Theo will love it. Tomorrow you can furnish the room, then everything should be ready for Friday. What will you do with him this weekend?”
I step off the ladder. “Friday we will settle into his room, Saturday maybe play with Brownie and go to the bookstore to pick out a book, and Sunday, no clue. He is four, so his energy level goes from ten to zero in a minute.”
She smiles at me.
There’s a pause as we look at each other. I realize that she isn’t part of those plans and feel the need to explain. “I was hoping you would be able to christen my new room, but it will have to wait.” I try to catch her direct gaze with my own; I do, and there is a faint wry smile on her mouth.
Stepping closer to her, I grab her free hand with my own. “Please don’t take it the wrong way that you’re not in our plans for the weekend.” My voice is almost delicate.
“Lucas, I get it completely. Don’t worry. We’re new. Very new. We should see where we’re going before your son joins the picture,” she assures me, and her look is genuine. Gosh, this woman is understanding.
It isn’t a big deal to her, so it should not be a big deal to me, yet I have to ask…
“I never actually asked… does it bother you I have a kid?”
She flinches under my touch and her eyes look at me startled. “Of course not, Lucas. He is part of you and your life. I know you’re the package deal if this goes anywhere.”
I pull her close as we both hold out our brushes to the side. Kissing her forehead, I need her to know.
“You are something special, Abby,” I whisper.
She gently tilts her head to the side. I’ve noticed she isn’t good with compliments.
Still, I need to ask more…
“I never asked, what is your view of children?”
She steps away and fidgets with her brush and looks to the wall. “As in, do I think they are little gremlins or make rainbows happen?” She’s trying to avoid the real meaning of my question.
“As in, do you ever want kids?” For some reason my stomach tightens, and an almost metallic taste fills my mouth. I’m scared for her answer.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “Truthfully… I don’t think I want kids. It was never in my dreams or life plan.”
My stomach twists and my heart drops. I feel weak and empty. This isn’t what I wanted to hear. Because I like her. A lot. Everyone in their life has a “what if” girl or guy. Even if you are happily married, you most likely have a what-if girl or guy. She is my what-if girl, or at least, it’s been feeling that way lately.
Even though my what-if girl is in my arms and possibilities are laid out in front of us, it doesn’t matter. Because not wanting kids is a dealbreaker.
