Page 53 of Man Seeking Woman

There were pictures of random objects on the walls all in black and white, some with a single pop of color. A pair of dirty sneakers was on the wall above the headboard, the only color in the picture were the daisies set in the background. A mailbox with the number one hundred eighty one in gold on the sheer face was hanging beside the dresser. All the pictures seemed random, but I still found them oddly beautiful.

“Here ya go, one sugar and cream,” August said, walking into the room and passing me a mug.

“Thank you.”

Climbing back into bed, he held his mug to his nose and inhaled a whiff. “I love the smell of coffee, I swear they should bottle it up as cologne.”

“I don't know about that. You might love the smell, but that doesn't mean it would smell good if you wore it. Bacon smells amazing, but you don't see it being sprayed in your face when you walk through the mall.”

“Never say never.” Taking a sip, he sucked the coffee drops out of his mustache. “Imagine how many things we wouldn't have if people didn't try something different? Did you know that if it wasn't for sex, graham crackers wouldn't exist?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Sylvester Graham wanted a food that decreased sex drive. Can you imagine?”

“No way, you're making that up.”

“I'm not, look it up if you don't believe me.”

“That's just weird.” Shaking my head, I held the mug tightly in my hands.

“So were corn flakes, they were made to stop people from getting horny and masturbating.”

“You know a lot about food and its relationship to sex.”

“I'm in the food industry, sorta,” August said. Pausing for a moment, he asked, “So, speaking of sex, what questions do you have for me?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

I knew what he meant, but I hadn't had the chance to really line them up in any particular order that made sense. All my questions were floating around in my head, slamming into each other like bumper cars at a fair. And I had the task of trying to pluck each one free.

“I know you have questions about this, about us, and everything in between. Now's your chance, ask away.”

“August, I don't know, I have so many questions.” Curling my fingers around the mug, I stared at the thin strips of steam as they swirled out, stretching up for my face. “The papers you sent didn't elaborate on anything very much.”

“I thought the papers were pretty cut and dry. It doesn't need to be difficult, what I need is simple.”

“Yeah, but how do we get simple from a baby? What happens between now and getting pregnant? How do we do that? What about after the baby? How are we going to live? Who will have custody—” I could feel myself unraveling, question after question tumbling out in one big ball of word vomit.

“Ella, Ella,” August said, touching my arm with enough pressure to stop me. “I know you might expect me to have an answer for everything, but I don't. I feel like there are some things that are just going to have to play out on their own.”

“So you have no idea at all, is that what you're saying?”

“No, I'm just saying, there are certain things we won't know until it's time.”

Shaking my head no, I sat up higher in the bed. “I think I'd feel better if we decided on a few of those things. Like getting pregnant, how is that going to work? Do you—are we—”

“Going to have sex?” he asked. Nodding, he stroked his jaw as his eyes grew darker. “Yes, we are. How else am I going to get you pregnant?”

“There's other ways. Invitro, medical facilities. . .” Dancing my eyes around his face, they kept falling on his mouth. I liked his lips, I liked how it felt when he kissed me, I enjoyed the taste of his tongue and how his mouth fit perfectly around mine.

“I think the old fashioned way is the way to go. I don't want a test tube baby, or someone else getting my sperm by mistake and suddenly there are twenty little Augusts running around out there. Just you, just me, and the way babies have been made since the dawn of time.”

“And when are we supposed to. . . you know. Like how soon are you planning this?”

“As soon as possible. The papers already think you're pregnant, if we wait too long the time-line won't add up. We need to get a bun in your oven asap.”

“Asap as in a few weeks, or asap as—”

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