Blake glances over at me again, then back to Ivy. “We’ll probably keep the condo for a bit, so you won’t lose your bedroom there immediately,” he says, and I feel that same nervous chest tightening I felt the first time he told the kids he was planning on keeping the condo until we made sure this worked between us.
It makes sense, I know it does. It’s smart. He shouldn’t give up his home until he has some proof we can do this—that he can really put up with my issues. I’m a cautious person, so having a practical plan in case of our failure should make me feel better.
It doesn’t, though. It just scares me more.
“But,” Blake continues, “when I move into the ranch, you won’t have two bedrooms anymore. So you’ll have to decide which furniture set you like better. Most of your non-furniture stuff you can probably keep and—”
“But I like both my beds!”
“Then maybe you can get rid of enough furniture that you can fit both beds in one room,” Blake says. “That’ll be your choice. But you get one bedroom.”
I admit, I’m surprised by the firmness in his voice. I always thought Ivy was able to wheedle more out of her dad than me—she always did when she was younger, though I suppose that was more along the lines of a second cookie, not a second bedroom.
Ivy glares and folds her arms.
“Luke?” I say, already wearied.
Luke looks up from where he’s drawing a path from one sticker on his paper to the next, and he takes on a very serious expression. “I have hobbit Legos at the condo and my orcs at the ranch. If I put them in the same bedroom, the orcs might carry off the hobbits.”
Blake and I exchange a look—he’s trying not to laugh, just like me.Thank god for seven-year-old problems.
“You have a playroom at the ranch,” I say. “Can you keep the hobbits in your bedroom and the orcs in the playroom?”
He considers, then nods. “Okay,” he says happily. His feet swing as they dangle off the bed.
“Ivy?” Blake says.
Ivy consults her list, no doubt trying to pick a tough one. “I’m going to have to watch you kiss and be all gross like that. And neither Luke or I should have to see that.”
“Your parents will kiss,” Blake says flatly. “That’s your big concern? Yeah, we’re going to kiss. Kids see their parents kiss sometimes. Plus, you can always, you know, not look.”
The dry way he says it almost gets another laugh out of me. But I wonder what her worry really is. I didn’t bring Roger around the kids all that often—the fact that I never felt comfortable with him spending the night when my kids were home, even after years together, should have been a sign to both of us—but it’s not like she never saw us kiss before, and she never had a problem with that. I’m guessing she’s seen Blake kiss Simone and his other girlfriends and similarly not cared.
It’s more than that; it’s a deeper fear. It’s Blake and me specifically, and I’m about to ask why, but she jumps in again.
“And you’re going to have sex! Which is even grosser!”
“And which you willnotbe seeing,” I say quickly.
Luke gasps. “You’re going to have a baby!” He actually seems excited about this prospect.
Blake makes a little strangled noise, and I shake my head. “That’s not always what happens when two people have sex,” I say.
“But are you?” Ivy demands, her eyes wide. It’s clear this didn’t occur to her.
To be fair, the thought of Blake and me having another child someday hadn’t occurred to me, either. I’d thought many times over the years that I’d love to have one more—even with the risk of another postpartum OCD flare-up—but I couldn’t see myself having a child with anyone but Blake.
Would Blake want that someday?
There are so many things we haven’t talked about, things I’m afraid to bring up. Being together again is such an unexpected gift—one I’m so afraid to have taken away, I’ve been scared to think beyond the immediate future.
Neither of us has spoken for several shocked seconds, and Blake has an expression I can’t read. “We don’t have any plans for that right now,” he says carefully.
“You got pregnant with me by accident.” Ivy’s cheeks are bright red. “So maybe you don’t need to plan for it to happen.”
“Getting pregnant with you was awonderful surprise,” I say. “But yeah, we can’t predict everything in the future.” I hope even that much doesn’t feel like too much pressure on Blake. I can feel the pulse in my wrist against my knee, faster than usual. “Right now we’re focusing on us and you two, on the family we have now.”
Blake doesn’t say anything, but he nods.
