Page 87 of Interference
“You can’t go stealing my answers,” she teases as I take a bite.
“I can if they are what I want. What does your ideal relationship look like? Besides being with me,” I tease.
Emery pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Man, your confidence is out of this world.”
“You like it. Now are you going to answer the question?”
“You first, I’m still thinking.”
“I want the exact opposite of my parents.” Her eyebrows raise, but I continue. “I would like to be sickeningly in love with my wife. I would want her to be my best friend, my confidant. I want our kids to groan when they walk into the room because they found us kissing again, dancing, or whatever. I want to show my kids what a relationship is meant to look like, not what I saw growing up. Ideally, it would be with you.”
Even with the shit lighting, I can see her blush.
“That. I want that,” she says softly.
“I thought we couldn’t steal each other’s answers,” I tease, making her laugh.
“But it’s true! Don’t get me wrong, I know my parents love each other, but they’ve never been the type to say I love you just because they can. Not to each other, and not to me. I want there to be no question that there is love in my home, between you and me and our child. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice that you said kids when talking about our future.”
I shrug with no shame. “I don’t care if there is an age gap between our kids, but I would like more than one. Growing up, I hated being an only child. Hell, I still hate it. It’s fucking lonely. I don’t want that for our child.”
Her eyes soften. “I hate being an only child, too.”
“So more than one?”
She nods. “More than one. Just later.”
We could always try for her to get pregnant right after having our first. It would make her rebounding more difficult, but it could be doable, then our kids wouldn’t be far apart in age at all…
“After the Olympics,” she says, raising her eyebrow.
“After the Olympics.”
“Hey, Brett?”
“Yeah, buttercup?”
“All this talk of the future has me hungry. How about we finish up here and head back to your place?”
“I’ll get the bill.”
Five years. I can hold off for five years…how hard can it be?
twenty-two
“Are you sure it isn’t a little soon for this?” I ask once again as we walk through the hospital halls.
“Nope. They assured me that you were far enough along for this class,” Brett tells me, his hand squeezing mine.
As he walks me into the room, I realize there are other women with partners. It makes me feel a little bit better to know this isn’t a one-on-one thing, but I’m still nervous. I have done minimal research on this pregnancy. Instead, I have been relying on Brett because he seems to be a wealth of knowledge on the subject.
After a few minutes, a woman in scrubs comes in.
“All right, everyone, take a seat. This is a basic class that will go over some pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting topics. We will tour the hospital once it’s over as well. Some of this you will be doing again when you take your childbirth class in your third trimester. Let’s get started with an icebreaker. Let’s go aroundthe room and say our names, how far along you are, and your weirdest craving so far. I’ll start. I’m Vanessa. I am zero weeks along, but I have three children. My weirdest craving was curry. I had only ever had it once before, but my body decided I wanted it. Next.”
As everyone goes around the room saying their weird cravings, I start to panic. I don’t have a weird craving, really. All I have wanted is ice cream and sometimes a chili cheese dog. Compared to some of these other women, that seems so normal. When it finally gets to us, I’m nervous.
“Hi. I’m Emery, and this is Brett. I’m twenty-five weeks pregnant. My weirdest craving is…” I trail off, not really sure what to say.
