Page 26 of The Lookback

See? Another very normal text from me. Only, I don’t feel normal. I’m agitated. Which is why it’s doubly important that I not see him right now.

MY PARENTS ARE STILL HERE.

I don’t groan, because I’m not upset about that. They can stay as long as they want. I’m sure he’s happy to see them. He must miss them a lot. SPEND ALL THE TIME YOU WANT WITH THEM. I’M BURIED WITH WORK RIGHT NOW.

Which is totally true. This morning I have an insurance physical. They make me do one every single year, because we carry a huge policy on me for the company. If I were to die, well. It would be bad for all the investors. I’ve taken all reasonable measures to mitigate the impact of my death, which is the best I can do, but with massive policies come lots of tests.

I MISS YOU.

Guilt claws at me when I read those three words. I miss him too, of course, but I also need some time to figure out how I feel about all this ‘he wants a kid’ stuff. If it’s a deal breaker for him, what will I do?

I love David.

Admitting that is huge for me—I’ve changed to even be able to say that to him after all my Oliver damage. But how much more will I have to change in order to keep him? According to the law of parsimony, the simplest answer is usually true. Thinking about that keeps bringing me back to the same conclusion.

David told me that he was simply managing his parents expeditiously. If he let them think as they wished, they’d leave us alone. By the time they realized that we weren’t doing what they wished, it would be too late for them to do anything about it.

But doesn’t it make more sense that he’s using the same plan with me? He did already compare me to a horse so stupid that it wouldn’t get on a trailer.

He thinks I’m spooky.

He may even be right about that in some ways, but he’s missing the point. There’s a big difference between being spooky and knowing what you want and not budging. What I want isnota dozen babies. In fact, it’s not even one baby. But I also don’t want to argue about it, and I don’t want to lose him.

So what happens when what you want and what the person you love wants aren’t the same? In my experience, that’s when you break up. Only, I don’t want to break up. I don’t think he does, either. I’m worried that because of that, he’s lying to me.

I find that this time, being at an impasse really bums me out.

SAME, I finally text back. MISS YOU TOO.

My phone dings again, but I ignore it, because the insurance people are finally here—one heavyset man and one very uptight woman who says ‘hmm’ in response to literally everything I ask and every test she runs.

They poke me repeatedly. They prod me with great energy. But finally, they gather up all their vials and swabs and start to pack things up. “We’re done?” I scratch my wrist again, clearly irritated by something on it.

“What’s that?” The woman peers at my wrist.

“Just a bug bite or something.” I tug my shirt down.

“Can I take a look at it?” she asks.

I want to tell her no. “Does this have anything to do with the testing protocols?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I’m a nurse, and from the inch of your wrist that I can see, it looks like more than a simple mosquito bite.” She doesn’t mention that there aren’t really any mosquitos in the fall in this area, but she doesn’t have to. I already thought of that.

I frown, but she doesn’t take the hint. “Fine.” I roll my sleeve up, and I’m a little surprised by all the tiny red dots running across the back of my hand and up my wrist to my forearm. “I didn’t really notice these before.”

She peers at them for a moment, and then she says, “Can I check your bedroom?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where do you sleep?” She lifts her eyebrows.

“How is that relevant?”

“I believe those to be bedbug bites. They often don’t cause a reaction until there are enough of them to bite you in some meaningful volume.”

My jaw dangles open. “This house may not be that nice, but it’s not dirty. I’m living here with my nephew because his mother just moved out, and I’m not here that often. It must be something else.”

“Your file indicates that you travel a lot. The most at-risk individuals for bedbugs are those who travel. Hotels have an awful time trying to keep?—”