Page 123 of Power Move
“No oneownsthem, but I doclaimthem,” I protested. “Baby, they’re my children.”
“They’remychildren, too. And I have no guarantees.”
“No one has. I could marry you tomorrow and something awful—God forbid—could befall us, Eva!”
“But you wouldn’t anyhow.”
“Eva, you won’t even say ‘I love you’, so what am I supposed to think?”
“That’s not fair!”
“Neither is wanting me to say ’sure, Eva, let’s get hitched even though you can’t bring yourself to say three little words to me’.” As the words left my mouth, I knew I was wrong.
Eva pulled back, voice defiant and masking hurt. “It was a point I was making. I know you have no desire to marry me. It’s fine.”
“At this moment? No. I think we’re both smart enough to put the immediate issues of pregnancy and the business up front and worry about silly things like wedding on the way back burner. But I never said I’d not consider it.”
“Uh-huh!” she sounded near tears and stared outside for the final three blocks.
Painful silence overcame me. Why couldn’t I make it a day without saying something wrong? It was one step forward, two steps back with us. I was hurt and desperate to hear her say it. I needed to be patient but wanted it so badly. It would be permanent—final. Hearing she wasn’t even convinced the babies would have my last name made it hurt worse.
We reached our building. Eva got out without another word. There was no goodbye kiss or pleasantry. She was hurt. Even the driver knew to say nothing. I filed back into work, texted my sister to see if I could send a birth announcement, and sat through a mind-numbingly boring meeting with legal.
I took lunch at the tennis club with my buddies. It had been weeks since we’d all been together in the same space. Things got harder with children, but it was good to be back together.
“You started the beard again?” I asked Carlos.
“Yeah. It’s that time of year,” Carlos said.
“I tried. Eva shut me down. Apparently every type of beard oil known to man makes her want to vomit right now.”
“Pregnancy is fucked,” Joe said. “How is she?”
“Good, I guess. The babies are coming along.”
“I still cannot fucking believe you, man,” Carlos snickered. “How the fuck did you end up in this bind?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But it doesn’t seem to get easier.”
“Oh, yes, newborns arenotoriouslyeasy. Who would have thought otherwise?” Joe teased.
“No, I mean, everything is a fucking social minefield. Everything from circumcision down to what night nurse we use is an argument. Then, there’s their names. She refuses to discuss first names because we just fight. Okay, fine. Well, Daphne had her baby girl this morning. Eva argued with me over the last name—like it wasn’t a fucking given that the boys would havemine.”
“Oh, Daph had the baby?” Joe asked. “Good for her and Cal.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “Good, but they hyphenated the damn name.”
“Well, I mean, given your sisterisa Delphine, they fucking would.”
“Joe, c’mon,” I groaned. “We aren’tthatdifferent.”
“You are,” Carlos laughed. “And this girl has you over a barrel.”
“I know,” Joe said. “She’s pretty, but what the fuck, man? She’s living in your house, spending your money, and she’s not willing to let you have the last name? That’s some shit, man.”
“My advice?” Carlos said. “Wait her out. If you fight about it now, she will just dig in. These things work out, but fighting with a woman—especially a pregnant lady—is a losing game.”
“Wait until she gives birth. She’ll be too tired to argue.”
