Page 75 of Finding You
“Um. Why is that a secret? It’s not exactly strange to like kids.” He sounded confused.
I sighed. “You don’t understand. In my world it is. They would probably revoke my feminist card if I admitted to liking kids and wanting some of my own. In my world, kids are a liability. They hold you back, and more importantly, they make people take you less seriously.” I wasn’t lying. Everyone I knew who had kids had felt the impact on their careers. One of my old friends from the firm, Meghan, was told she was “obsessed” with her kids because she had photos of them in her office. At a review she was told it was hurting her career. Another friend was chastised by a female partner when she revealed she was pregnant with her second child. She was told one child was fine, but two was “out of hand.”
Was this all just ugly sexism? Of course it was. But in a male-dominated profession it was part of the game. We all knew the rules. If you have kids, you pretend they don’t exist until they go to a prestigious college and then you are allowed to brag about them. Leaving early or taking time off to care for said kids is sacrilege for both men and women.
Which is why my desire for kids was secret. I couldn’t admit that I wanted some of my own. But Declan made me feel safe, made me feel cherished. I felt like I could share my real self with him. He shifted and looked me in the eyes.
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
I froze. This was meaningful on so many levels. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. But there was no going back now. Intimacy was a tricky bitch. “I do. My knee-jerk reaction is to pretend I don’t, and then maybe, you never know—but the reality is I do.”
He studied me for a moment while I panicked. He was probably thinking about how quickly he could get me out of his house.
I couldn’t stop the verbal diarrhea. “I was an only child. And my mother was, shall we say, distant. I didn’t have the kind of hands-on parents that you did. So for me, I would love to have a child, or hopefully more than one, and kiss boo-boos and read bedtimes stories and take them trick or treating.” And it was the truth. It was actually one of the things I spent much of my time talking to Dr. Martha about. She constantly reassured me that it was normal and healthy to want a family of my own and that I shouldn’t be afraid to pursue it. My mind wandered. I wanted to be the mom who baked cookies, wore matching PJs on Christmas morning, and made a mess doing science experiments in the kitchen. I couldn’t deny that those were things I wanted, and for the first time, I didn’t want to deny it. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted this kind of intimacy. I wanted him to know me inside and out. I wanted to build a family—a happy, messy, fun family. I wanted to build a home filled with laughter and love.
“But it probably won’t happen,” I hedged.
“Why not? You’re only thirty-two.” He seemed so surprised.
“Because of my career, I don’t have time to invest in finding a partner and building a family. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have the time necessary to devote to them.” I didn’t say this part out loud, but I didn’t want to be like my mother. If I was lucky enough to become a mother someday, I was going to do a damn better job than she did.
“Then get a new career.” His face was serious.
“Ha. That’s not even possible. I’ve only ever done this. I am only qualified to do this.”
“I doubt that. You are an accomplished, brilliant woman with an otherworldly work ethic. You can do whatever you want.”
“You say that because you don’t understand my world. BigLaw is weird and has its own rules.”
“Then screw BigLaw. Be Astrid. You don’t have to be an associate or partner at Fuckface & Asshole anymore. Be who you want to be.”
I looked at Declan’s kind, handsome face and kissed him deeply. “You’re right,” I said. And for the first time in my life, I believed it. I didn’t need Burns & Glenn. And let’s face it, after I filed my lawsuit, I wouldn’t be going to any BigLaw firm. And in that moment, I didn't care.
“Think about the future, Astrid. You can have whatever you want.” On some level I knew that. I knew that I could pivot, career wise, find something new and be fine. But deep down I was scared. Scared that I wasn’t enough. Scared that no matter how hard I tried or how hard I worked, I would fail the people who mattered the most.
29
ASTRID
It was game day.I had been psyching myself up all week for this, and I was terrified. I barely slept last night. At one point I just got up and sat on the couch and stared at the ocean for a few hours. Ginger came and sat beside me, quietly offering her support, which I appreciated.
It wasn’t long after I crawled in bed with Declan that Nora showed up with coffee and dragged me out to Dante’s salon. I kissed Declan goodbye. It must be so nice to be a man. He was planning a busy Saturday of exercise and hanging out with his dog. Even without hours of primping, I was sure he’d look amazing.
Normally, I tend toward conservative in all things hair and makeup. But Dante and Nora were too much to resist. In a few short hours I had every part of my body waxed, my finger- and toe-nails painted, my hair cut and colored, and professional makeup applied. I had never done anything like this before. Hours of primping always felt silly and like a waste of time. But we had a blast, sipping champagne while Dante told us the story about how he and Christian fell in love. I loved everyone at the salon and couldn’t wait to go back.
Declan seemed to appreciate all the hard work when I returned.
“Look at you,” he growled, wrapping his arms around me.
I touched my hair. “Dante talked me into it.”
“Then I owe him a beer. You look incredible.”
I kissed him deeply, lipstick be damned. He knew just what to say to make me feel so much better.
“I just have to grab my dress from the cottage,” I told him, heading across the street to grab my stuff. When I got to the door I saw a small brown package on the welcome mat.
The label bore very familiar looking handwriting.
