Page 71 of Faking It Right
“Are you alright?” Harley asked, his voice wobbling between concern and barely contained amusement.
“Fine,” I wheezed, shooting him a glare that promised retribution later.
Maylin reached over and took my hand to press against her flat stomach. “Can you feel the soul remnants of the thousands ofchildren I’ve borne you in all our past lives? How eager I am to grow your babies inside me again in this lifetime?”
I yanked my hand back faster than someone who’d just touched a hot stove, almost knocking over my water glass in a new dimension. My chair screeched against the floor as I leaned away from her, eyes wide with horror.
“That’s not a thing,“ I stammered, clutching my hand to my chest like she’d tried to bite it. “There are no soul remnants in your stomach!”
“It absolutely is,” Maylin retorted with an air of serene confidence. “Your seed has found fertile ground in me across centuries. Our cosmic connection is undeniable.”
“The only undeniable thing here is how uncomfortable this conversation is making everyone,” I squeaked, but found myself without allies.
Harley cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. “So, Maylin, you mentioned I’ve been stealing Ryker away across lifetimes. I’m curious, how many times have Ryker and I had children together in our past lives?”
Maylin’s calm demeanor vanished. “Seven hundred and seventy-three,” she replied with a hint of bitterness. “In the lifetimes where you stole him from me, you birthed his children four hundred and forty-two times, and he carried yours three hundred and thirty-one times when he was a woman.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s like eight hundred kids, which isn’t even possible.”
“Oh, my!” Mom clasped her hands together. “Ryker, you’ve been pregnant in past lives almost four hundred times? What a miracle of life.”
“That’s not—I didn’t—” I sputtered, but words failed me.
“You were especially fertile during your merman phase,” Maylin continued. “You had quintuplets three times in that incarnation alone. And don’t get me started on your centaur era.”
“Merman?Centaur?” I repeated, my voice hitting a new octave of disbelief. It wasn’t bad enough she insisted we’d been both people and animals, but now she was throwing in full-blown mythical creatures?
Harley’s face lit up with delight. “I knew it! I’ve always felt a natal connection to you, snookums.” He placed his hand on my stomach, giving it a tender caress that sent my stomach lurching in an approximation of morning sickness that I didn’t appreciate. “Your womb energy is still so vibrant after all those centuries of pregnancies.”
I slapped his hand away. “Stop! I donothave womb energy! I’ve never been pregnant, nor will I everbepregnant. That’s not how bodies work!” I felt trapped in a horror house of mirrors, where everything was wrong.
“In this lifetime, perhaps,” Maylin conceded. “But your soul remembers carrying all those children. You were quite maternal.”
“My soul needs therapy after this conversation,” I muttered.
Mom seemed delighted by the subject. “Do you think there’s any chance you might adopt in this lifetime? I’ve always wantedgrandchildren, and Sawyer and Gia haven’t mentioned any plans yet.”
“Mom!” Sawyer protested.
“What? I’m just saying, if Ryker and Harley have this beautiful history of creating countless lives together, maybe they’ll continue the tradition.”
“There is no tradition!” I insisted, my voice reaching a pitch I didn’t know it could achieve. “We’re not pushing babies out of our penises!”
The laughter only made it worse. “Can we please go back to talking about alpacas?” I begged. “I think I preferred that conversation.”
“After dinner, I’ll show you the photo album of what our children looked like in our past lives,” Maylin offered. “I drew them based on my visions.”
“Absolutely not!” I exclaimed at the exact moment Harley chimed in, “I’d love to see them!”
Sawyer raised her glass again in a toast. “Congrats on being the most prolific child creator in the known universe.”
“That’s it. I’m moving to another country,” I announced to no one in particular. “Possibly another planet.”
Mom clapped her hands together in delight. “How fascinating! Ryker never mentioned any of this!”
“The memories often come back in stages,” Maylin said. “Some souls are more resistant to remembering their past incarnations. Ryker’s always been stubborn that way.”
“That sounds like my biscuit,” Mom agreed, nodding sagely.
