“There’s no way that’s still a thing,” Bernie, or Breanna, gasps.
I listen for Lenzin to mock this… this, ridiculousness, but he doesn’t, and even though I wouldn’t be affected either way, the child growing inside of me, confirmed by emailed results, and anappointment booked on Friday, it clearly feels some kind of way, and it’s making me do so as well.
“It’s practical,” Anneliese continues. “Our views align. We don’t believe in romantic love. We don’t want children.”
My stomach drops.
“And our families’ wealth,” she adds, “should be doing something. Not sitting in accounts collecting dust. We want it invested, mobilized, be purposeful, help people who want change.”
Breanna hums. “That tracks.”
“It’s a partnership,” Anneliese finishes. “Why complicate it?”
Hank whistles low. “Damn. That’s… European.”
Lenzin finally speaks. “It is not a conspiracy.”
“It absolutely is,” Hank says. “Just one with an accent to make it sound like anyone who doubts it is stupid.”
I kind of love Hank’s simple logic.
I shift slightly on the bed, careful not to wake Lucy, my mind racing ahead of the conversation, or rather, the impact of it
Children. They don’t want children. He doesn’t want children.
I glance down at Lucy, her small hand curled near her face, her other arm tucked carefully against her body. How could you not?
Breanna says something about Europe, about being gone for the past two weeks and heading back in the spring. The casualness of it, the ease with which money and distance slide into conversation, is unmistakable.
Old money. Comfortable money. The kind that doesn’t need to announce itself.
Eventually, voices rise again, chairs scraping softly. Hank and Breanna say their goodbyes and promise to check in tomorrow. The front door opens, and it closes.
The house settles, and I sit back with my laptop on my lap to pretend I’m not eavesdropping when he walks in. I’m sure he will.
There’s a beat. Then Anneliese laughs. She’s still here.
“Well,” she says, “tell me. Does all of that still hold true, or has the little crotch goblin in the other room changed you?”
I stiffen. Crotch goblin? Who says that… okay, me, once but never again.
Lenzin exhales slowly. “You are impossible.”
“And yet,” she replies, “you still haven’t told me anything. Which is new. That’s not us, Lenz, talk to me…”
There’s a longer pause this time.
“We are…hosting,” he says carefully.
I snort silently.
“They’re people,” Anneliese says. “Not a stray cat.”
“I am aware.”
“The kid, I can see she’s shifted something in you, and if I stay any longer, I fear, I too,” she pauses. “No, no, I do not.” He chuckles. “But there’s something about the other redhead, the one with the great tits and hips for a tiny little thing.”
“She is… competent,” he says slowly, “even overextended. Intelligent. And kind, very kind.”
