I was silent for a moment as I looked out the truck window.“You really want to build us a house?”
“Of course I do.”
I bit my lip.“It has to have a screened in porch and a porch swing bed.Big enough to sprawl out on.Big enough for Lenni and Mildred.And you and me at night when it’s raining and we want to listen to the patter of raindrops on the roof.”
“I’m sold.What else do you want in this house of ours?”he inquired.
“A guest cottage.For my parents.”
“Done.”
“Two floors.High ceilings.Crown molding.”
“Fancy.”
“I grew up in New York.I have a thing for New England architecture.”
“So, a lot of brick and wood, got it.”
“A big kitchen.The kitchen needs to be the center of the house.The hearth, yeah?Oh, and a wood burning stove and?—”
“Make a list, Wyn,” he said.“And I’ll make it happen.”
I grabbed my phone.
“You still didn’t tell me how many babies you want,” he said.“I’d like a rough guesstimate.How far apart in age do you want them?”
“How many do you want?”I pivoted.
“That’s not how this is gonna work.”
“I can’t decide how many babies I want without your input,” I said in exasperation.
“Sure you can.”He grinned.“I’ll help make them.Enthusiastically.I’ll help raise them.I’ll teach them how to defend themselves and protect them with my life.But you, woman, are the deciding factor for how many children we get to have.”
“So, if I said I only want this one,” I placed my hand on my belly, “and Lenni, you’d be okay with that?”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“I don’t have any siblings,” I said.“It was nice, having my parents’ undivided attention.But then I also got stuck with my parents’ undivided attention ...”
He chuckled.
“I didn’t know what it was like having sisters,” I whispered.“But Poet, Salem and Hadley ...they’re my sisters.I want Lenni to have sisters.I know you wanted boys, but maybe you could talk to your sperm and give us a nice mix?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Four,” I said, straightening my spine.“I want four.In addition to Lenni.”
“Five is a good number.We can start a band.We’ll be like the Partridge Family.”
“Dibs on playing the tambourine.”
“It’s yours,” he said.“But only if you wear a mini skirt.You’ve got great legs.In fact, it was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
“You charmer,” I quipped.“And I want them no more than two years apart.”
“We’re going to be exhausted,” he stated.“What with your great legs wrapped around me constantly.”
