Page 73 of Doing It for Love

He pauses again, then turns me around, eyebrows bunched together. “I’venevercalled you a flake.”

I tilt my head to the side. “You said I get excited about things, then change my mind the next day.”

His eyes widen and his mouth drops open the slightest bit. “Liz, you are passionate about so many things. Just because some don’t stick doesn’t mean you’re a flake.”

“What the hell am I passionate about?”

“Me.”

I snort, because I knew that was coming. He grins and wipes a snowflake from my cheek. “You’re passionate about that vampire show.”

“I hardly think that counts. I’m just saying I haveno cluewhat I want to do with my life. I’m not like you and didn’t know when I was twelve. Still trying to figure it out, because I flake out on everything I start.”

“Bullshit.”

I jerk back. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“I’m calling youout.You keep every promise you make. You have a detailed list for every major task. You work double shiftsandkeep the apartment clean. You know I wouldn’t last a day without you. There’d be socks everywhere.”

“I bet there’s a pair of socks on the living room floor as we speak,” I say, and he gives me an “oops” look, and I shake my head. “Landon!”

“You see! You keep me in line.”

“Obviously not well enough.”

“Okay, then. You don’t know what you want to do. But say you had to choose right now. No takebacks, can’t question the decision tomorrow, first thing that jumps into your head.”

It happens so quick it’s like it was already there, waiting for someone to force me to make the decision. What I want to do maybe looks like an easy way out, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels so satisfyinglyright.And surprises the heck out of me, considering how relieved I was when…

“You know…when I was fifteen in my career class, they asked me probably about a million times where I saw myself in five years. And I always had these big dreams of being an actress or becoming famous or justbeingsomeone. I had a list of Hurdles for those dreams. Get into NYU, take advanced theater classes, study Broadway. And then…well, you came along.”

“Wow. Here I am, being encouraging, and you say I destroyed your dreams.”

“You shush and let me finish.” I tap a finger to his lips. “It’s good that you came along, because I realized I don’t actually want all those things. If I was to answer the same five-year question now, I’d say all I see in my future, all Iwantin my future, is a family.”

He smiles, pulls my hips into his, and locks his hands behind my back. “So…that’s what you want to do. You want to do me.”

“Over and over till there are tons of little Landons and Lizzies running around.”

He’s still smiling, but he tries to clear his throat as if he’s choking. I laugh and help ease his mind.

“Not rightnow.But that is what I want to do in life. I want to be a mom. I want to stay home with my kids and watch them learn to walk and to talk and to dance. I want to make them SpaghettiOs and clean up SpaghettiOs and celebrate the day they discover they can fit certain objects up their noses. I can’t wait to watch all their soccer games or school plays—”

“You want to be a soccer mom, huh?” Landon says with a grin.

“Yes. And I want to drive a minivan and give my kids juice pouches. I want a house with a backyard and a swing set or tree house like the one at your parents’, and I want to teach them how to ride bikes and swim and to look both ways and I know it pays nothing and I should really have a backup plan in the meantime or for when it does happen and I get bored or something when the kids are older and in school or with friends or what-have-you. But if I could only choose one thing and one thing only…being a mom? Well, that’s what I’d pick with no second thought.”

He’s quiet. He’s quiet for so long I wonder if I even said anything out loud, but then he picks me up, spins me around, and smiles at me like I’ve dropped from Heaven itself.

“I’m gonna help you get to your dream, Tumbles. Even if it takes a lot of practice.”

“I see lots and lots of practice in our five-year plan.”

He laughs and gives me a sloppy kiss on the mouth before lifting my arm straight in the air with his. “This woman wants to have my babies!” he shouts for all of New York City to hear. People clap and whistle and holler, and I tug my beanie over my blushing face. Of course, Landon pulls it off and kisses me deep and long and with so much heat and happiness I feel like I’m lifted out of my shoes and soaring up to the snowy skies.

He pulls back, keeping my face locked in his hands, and whispers to me like it’s a secret, “Now we run out of here like we’re off to make sweet passionate love and make all these people jealous!” And I’m tugged to the nearest cab, laughing and not giving a single care about the fare as Landon tells the driver to take us to Rockefeller Center. While we sit in horrendous traffic we talk about our future as if it doesn’t scare us, as if everything we want together is completely within reach, and I believe it. I believe it all…that this man will be an amazing husband and father and I even see myself doing all the things I told him. It’s exciting, and we can’t stop hugging and kissing and holding hands and doing all the things we seemed to skip over when we got together. The little things I thought we never would experience again after we transformed from dessert into vegetables seem suddenly so big now that sex is off the table.

The tree is beautiful, and Landon tries to take a picture with his phone so it looks like he’s holding the tree in his hand, but every shot looks ridiculous. I post the pictures anyway, and our friends assist in giving us a scavenger hunt of things to take pictures with. On our walk back to Times Square, Landon finds a Santa to sit on. (He asks for a candy cane, which he gets, but the thing is so bendy and moist like it’s been waiting in Santa’s pocket for years. I tell Landon to throw it away, but he saves it for our collage wall.) I get a picture with the Naked Cowboy, and since I have no money to pay for a tip, he says he’ll let me have a free one if I give him a kiss. Landon promptly hands him our last five and rushes me out of there.

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