Page 79 of Sure Shot
“Okay. Then here’s the skinny on the blue-liners,” Georgia says. “Loneliness must be good for defensive strategy, because Tank has been playing like a beast these past few games. Our offense is still a little baffled by him, but the other D-men are coming around. Anton has figured out how to work with him. And now I think Coach is going to try O’Doul and Tank on shift together.”
Becca whistles under her breath. “They could be an unstoppable pair. The dream team.”
“Right?” I agree, and my voice only wobbles a little. Even though I’m hurt, I want the best for Tank. That’s how you know you love someone.
Isn’t clarity a bitch? On the one hand, I regret trying to have a relationship chat with Tank before he was ready. On the other hand, his reaction taught me everything I needed to know about my own feelings.
It was possible that a little more time might have sorted him out, but it was just as likely that he’d never see himself as a relationship guy again. It hurts, but I needed to know that. Waiting around and hiding my feelings wasn’t ever going to end well.
“Tell me more gossip,” I say, begging for a change of topic. “How’s Leo doing? Are you spending Christmas with his family?”
“Oh, definitely,” Georgia says. “I love his family. Except lately his mother can’t go an hour without asking when we plan to have kids.”
“Oh, brother,” Becca groans. “Nate’s mom has been dropping some hints, too. And we’ve only been married a few months.”
“Shouldn’t we be taking bets?” I ask. “Which of you two is going to be first?”
“Georgia is,” Becca says. “Leo has been angling since ten minutes after they got married. And Georgia doesn’t hate the idea, either. Trust me.”
“We’re still negotiating the number, though,” Georgia says. “I’m an only child, so I think one or two kids is plenty. But Leo thinks three is the minimum.”
“Leo just wants to have lots of baby-making sex,” Becca points out.
Georgia snorts. “Leo’s appetites are great, that’s true. But isn’t baby-making sex the same as any other nookie?”
“No way,” Becca argues. “I mean, I haven’thadany baby-making sex, so I’m just guessing here, but there should be trumpets and an angel choir. If you’re making a human life, that has to be beautiful.”
“The angel choir might mess with my concentration,” Georgia says, and I choke on a sip of Prosecco.
“You okay?”
“Sure.” I cough. And then I blurt out my strange question. “I wonder if the choir shows up at the fertility clinic I went to yesterday.”
There’s a stunned silence. “Omigod. Hello, mic drop!” Georgia yelps. “Are you having a baby? Did we bet on the wrong horse here?” She waves a hand over the three of us in our massage chairs.
Even the woman who’s buffing my cuticles looks up in surprise.
“I’m investigating the possibility,” I admit. “This was just a preliminary consultation. But I’ve been thinking about it a long time. And if Tank and I aren’t going to be together, maybe it’s time to take matters into my own hands.” The idea of going back to Tinder makes me want to curl up in a ball and howl.
“Wow,” Becca says. “You are impressive. So how does it work? Do you have to have a bunch of tests?”
“There will be a couple of tests. But then there are choices to make. IVF versus artificial insemination. IVF sounds a little intimidating, honestly. You have to inject yourself with a drug.”
Becca shivers. “I hate needles. But I guess I could stab one into my own butt if it meant I could have a baby.”
“Thigh,” I correct. “And I hear there’s no angel choir.”
Becca reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I just want to slap Tank.”
“And then give him a firm shake,” Georgia agrees.
“He can’t help it,” I say, jumping to his defense. “The man’s wife asked him to move out, and that was only seven months ago. He’s not over it.”
“He’s not,” Georgia says quietly. “Some people never get over it. Maybe you two are star-crossed.”
“It sucks,” Becca says. “And if you need someone to go to the clinic with you, I’m there.”
“You’re the best. Seriously. Getting pregnant in a doctor’s office does seem kind of weird and lonely.”
