I wait for him to look surprised, or maybe even angry. Like me, he is probably wondering why we started this if that’s the case.
“I didn’t know what your plan was.” He pulls at the bottom of his beard.
“That is my plan. I’m still working out all the details, and it may not be until mid-year, because I have to save, but I have to.”
“Have, not want?”
I sit back and cross my legs, unsure of how to answer that. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to dance on stage anymore, but I don’t know what else I might want to do with dancing. Music videos and choreographing are options, but I don’t know if I should go to LA just for that.
Plus, is what my dad said true? Did getting cancer shift things for me? It made me realize I was wasting time being in a relationship that wasn’t giving what this one is giving. And if next year was my last, would I be okay being away from Callahan? The thought of not waking up next to him, or seeing his face every day makes my chest tighten.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking at him like he has the answer.
“Well, think about it and we’ll figure things out once you know.”
He pulls me into his lap and starts tucking my hair into the scarf. I rest against him and let him do it, telling him when it’s tight enough. Once done, he lifts me up and carries me to bed.
I fall asleep in his arms, knowing this is the only thing I truly know that I want.
#
When we wake up, we get to work taking out the braids.
At first, Callahan’s chubby fingers suck at unraveling them. For every four that I do, he gets through one. Looking up at his little determined squint and puckered lips, I can’t help but be proud of him anyway. When he has a daughter, he is going to be the best dad a girl can ask for.
“I know you want a bunch of kids, but how do you feel about adopting?” I ask, watching him finally start to get the hang of it.
“Is that what you want to do?” he asks.
Having thoroughly avoided this topic since that night, I don’t know how to talk to him about the fact that I’m still unsure about having biological children. I don’t want to see disappointment reflected in his eyes if I tell him I don’t want to watch another woman carry our kids.
“Maybe. I don’t know about someone else having them.”
So happy to not be looking at him, I huff out my resisted tears. He twists my face, planting a kiss on my forehead.
“If we adopt, then we can have all of them at once.” He sounds so excited that it causes me to bark out a laugh.
“Callahan, be serious. How do you actually feel about not having kids that have your DNA?”
Despite what is best for me, I need to see if he is telling the truth.
“I’m being serious. I love the idea of adopting a bunch of siblings and keeping them together.”
I turn toward him and narrow my eyes. He sighs and slides onto the floor with me.
“A lot of people have reproductive issues. For all we know, I have slow sperm. It took Finn and his wife two years to have their baby, and she had to have blood transfusions because of RH incompatibility. Having a baby is super complicated. It’s not guaranteed for anyone.”
“Yeah, but it’s definitely guaranteed that I can’t get pregnant.” The quiver in my voice is disappointing. I’m just as mad at the watery sigh that follows it.
“Monty, my love, let me say it again. Who I have children with matters a hell of a lot more than how we get those kids. I’m a lot more concerned about the type of mother you will be than how you become one.” His thumbs rub up and down my cheeks, swiping away a few of the escaped tears.
The mother I am matters more, I repeat to myself. I don’t know how I let that concept go over my head with the mom that I have. With the adoptive one that Farrah has.
I don’t need to carry my child to know that I will love them no matter what.
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his palm.
“Don’t thank me. Just know that no matter what, I want at least one redhead.” He pats my cheek before letting me go.
