Page 59 of Now & Forever
“James has told me about your own fertility related issues,” Cassandra carefully said, as if unsure she should admit she knew about Gwen’s reproductive system and how much of a stubborn ass it was, like her. “I’m sorry to hear about them.”
“Don’t be. I’m choosing to see it as one less thing to worry about.”
Gwen had said that too hastily, hadn’t she? Because that was nothing but pity on Cassandra’s soft face.Shocking. The woman with a baby at her feet feels sorry for me.“He also told me that if things go well with Patrick, he might be interested in having another child sometime in the near future.”
Another lump fell into the pit of Gwen’s stomach. “That’s what you came over to talk about, isn’t it?”
“I was under the impression it’s why you invited me to drinks, yes.”
“Well… jump right into it, why don’t we?”
“We’ve passed the pleasantries. Only seems right we get to the crux of our business. I’m not sure how long Patrick will behave, anyway. I planned to stay the hour, but…”
As if on cue, Patrick propped himself up on his feet while gripping his chubby fingers around the table leg. Cassandra paused to clap for his achievement. Gwen offered him an encouraging smile.
He looked right back at her and smiled as well.
Jesus. My heart.The kid was cute. Okay, he wasadorable.Gwen had no idea what to do with him, but James had assured her that it would get better with time. Patrick would get older, learn to talk, acquire quirks and a roaring personality, and his relationship with Gwen could be its own force to be reckoned with. But right now, when he wasn’t quite yet two, Gwen only saw a vortex of the unknown. Her unknown relationship to him, her unknown relationship to her own maternal instincts, and her unknown feelings toward, well…
“It would be an excellent compromise.” Gwen drank her cider as if it were water. “No worries about my own fertility problems, and I wouldn’t have to go through the physical trials of motherhood, which my doctor has warned could cause me a new set of complications.” Not to mention her lifelong reluctance to ever do the pregnancy and childbirth song and dance. Some women changed their minds as they grew older, but so far, Gwen was entering her thirties without a speck of change. She always assumed that, if shereallywanted kids, she’d have to use a surrogate or adopt.
Well, if Cassandra was offering…
What better way to grab hold of the narrative by its horns and own it? Bonus points if it made the stuck-up families lose their shit in scandal.
“Obviously, it wouldn’t happen soon,” Gwen said. “Weallneed time to talk it over and decide what is best forallof us.” She couldn’t stress that word enough. She didn’t want to be left out. She didn’t want Cassandra left out, and she sure as hell couldn’t forget James, who would more than likely be the father of any child the three of them came up with together.
Cassandra sipped her cider. “Of course. By the way, have you heard that Ophelia has been visiting a divorce lawyer?”
Gwen grinned. Nowtherewas a topic she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into!
They gossiped for the next half hour while drinking cider and eating crackers. Patrick continued to play with his small loot of toys on the floor, but toward the end of the hour, he propped himself up again and waddled toward Gwen.
He placed a wooden car in her lap.
“Oh,hi.” Gwen almost choked on the cider. “What do you have?”
“That’s his favorite one,” Cassandra said. “We can’t go anywhere unless we bring his car. This must mean he likes you!”
Gwen continued to stare at the boy plopping a toy into her lap.What the hell do I do?She hated to admit that she froze up whenever Patrick directly interacted with her. It was like… ah, hell, it was like she wanted to grab this boy and give him a kiss, but was afraid it would make him scream!
In time, Gwen would get better at interacting with her stepson. She would learn those crazy little quirks – such as his favorite toys, how he responded to certain events, and why she would never get away with a kiss to the top of his head – and develop her own language with a boy who would eventually come to her when he wanted to rant about his parents or ask how to ask his first crush out.
By then, he’d probably have a sibling. Maybe. Probably. Yes.
Until then, Gwen would help the boy steady his steps while handing him back his car. “Thank you!” Was that too over the top? Would this two-year-old think she was nuts? “I’ll take good care of it, okay?” She pretended to hide the little car between her palms. Patrick instantly furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to protest. “Oh, you want it back? Here you go.”
He slowly wrapped his fingers around the car and pulled it off her lap. The last thing he did before running back to his mother was offer her a small, coy smile that was so much like his father’s that Gwen couldn’t help but laugh.
Those Merange boys had a habit of stealing her heart, after all.
