“That man needs a child.” The words fly out of her mouth as if on cue.
“Please don’t start,” I implore her, instantly annoyed.
“I am just making an observation,” she defends her statement.
“You’ve been making that observation a lot lately.”
“I can’t help what I see.”
I lean on the kitchen island and stare at London. “I’m just not sure.”
She dispenses a sympathetic look. “I know the subject of family is between you and Kayne, but Ellie, just tell me what you’re afraid of.”
It takes me a few moments to answer her, as I try to put my feelings into words. “Everything.”
“Everything?” She crosses her arms confounded. “Do you think you’re going to be a bad mother?”
“Compared to you, maybe,” I joke.
“Ellie.”
“No, it’s not that.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I just know what’s out there. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to my children.”
London’s face drops. “Oh, Ellie.”
I wipe my eye, a rebel tear forming in the corner.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know.” I try to smile. “I just don’t know how you do it.”
London moves closer to me until our bodies are touching. She plays with the ends my hair and looks at me sympathetically. “I wish I could give you a guarantee. I wish I could tell you that everything will always be perfect, but I think you’re smart enough to know that’s not true.”
“You could lie to me.”
“I could, but I won’t. What I will tell you is that you have an advantage.”
“Advantage?”
“Yup. You know what’s out there. You can recognize the danger and teach your children the signs. If you ever decide to have any.” She winks. “We’ve all been through our own traumatic shit. But the way I see it, if you let it get in the way of your happiness, you’re letting it win.”
She does have a point. And London has lived through her own personal hell, one that was way longer and way worse than mine, and she’s not letting it hold her back.
Are my negative experiences holding me back? Am I making excuses because of my fear? Maybe. Or maybe I’ve already committed myself to someone and I’m not ready to share him yet. Maybe, I’m scared it will change what we have. And like I’ve said before, I really loveus.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I just don’t want you look back and have regrets.”
“I don’t want that, either.” I also don’t want to deprive my husband of something he really wants.
“Good.” London walks out of the kitchen to check on Becks, who’s been extremely quiet.
“God, I love this child,” I hear her say.
“Why?” I peek into the living room to see Becks cuddled up in the corner of his playpen fast asleep.
“Because he’s such a man. Eat, sleep, poop. That’s his life.”
“At six months old, what more do you need?”
