When my mom expanded this store, she didn’t just add the loft. She added a daycare. So yeah, I’m thinking about that.
My biceps are super-glued to my chest. Arms crossed.
Jane shifts her weight and smooths her blue tulle skirt. “Really, this is more than just about the general topic of babies.” She rambles. “It’s children—specifically, your future children. Between the two of you.”
My joints need oiled because honest to God, my neck creaks when I turn my head to Farrow.
He has a hand over his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s smiling or frowning. He assesses me from head to fucking toe.
“I just had a very giant heart attack,” I mutter under my breath to him.
He drops his hand. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” I say stubbornly.
He leans close and stares ahead at Jane as he whispers to me, “I’m the doctor.”
That was too damn hot, and I do everything in my power not to let him know that. And yeah, joking with Farrow is a great distraction to being serious. “I’m sorry. What’d you say? I think my heart attack busted out my eardrum.”
He laughs into an eye-roll, but the noise fades quickly as he focuses more on Jane.
Her blue eyes soften on us. “Are you okay to talk about babies now, Moffy? We can do this another day—”
“No,” I cut her off.
Someday in the future, I want to raise kids with Farrow, but we haven’t really delved into that topic yet. We’ve just grazed the surface of the iceberg while we’ve been concentrating on the now and the wedding.
On one hand, I almost want to thank Jane. Because there’s a massive part of me that’s stupidly excited to discuss kids. Especially without the pressure of having them soon.
I never dreamed of falling in love or being married. I didn’t let myself have that chance. But maybe I can dream of having kids with Farrow for a while.
It seems easy.
Simple.
And so damn happy.
“We can talk about kids,” I say with confidence.
Farrow looks me up and down in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” I’m interested in what Jane has to say. “It’s not like we’re having a kid tomorrow.”
His lip inches up. I smile off his smile, seeing that he’s happy about this. That feels good. He leans a shoulder on the wall and waves Jane on. Farrow is in the dark with me, and I’m aware that he’s way more at ease.
I haven’t uncrossed my arms yet. Just in case this takes a detour into doomsday territory. I want to be ready for anything.
Jane peels a frizzed piece of hair off her lips. She smiles, less apprehensive than when she first brought us into the daycare. “I love you both so terribly.”
My chest swells, but I’m hanging onto a thread of suspense. “Nous t’aimons aussi, Janie.” We love you too, Janie.
She steps closer. “As I’m positive you’re aware, you have a handful of options when it comes to starting a family, and I want to give you one more.”
I know what she’s about to say and offer because she’s my best friend, my other half, and we look at each other with reddening eyes. Emotion surging like a tidal wave come to carry us to shore—years and minutes and moments washing down my body. And something else.
Something that transcends time.
A love that understands without sound or reason.
And I feel one of the purest acts of love when Jane tells us, “I can carry your baby for you. I’d love to be your surrogate if you’d want that.”
I instantly hug Jane, my arms wrapping around her shoulders. Her arms glide around my waist. I want to thank her, just to be willing to do this for me, for us—it gets to me.
Words aren’t enough appreciation or gratitude to express all that balls up inside my body. I glance over at Farrow.
His chest rises and falls, overwhelmed, and his raw eyes hold exactly what I feel.
I pull back from Jane and wipe the silent tears that stream down her cheeks.
“And”—she rubs her splotchy face—“if you’re thinking of using Farrow’s sperm, I’d be more than happy to donate my eggs.” Quickly, she adds, “Obviously I’m not trying to be the mom in this situation. I’m just more of an aunt, but at the very least, you’d have full trust in the egg donor, and as cousins, I share some DNA with Moffy, so it’s almost as though you’re having a biological child together.”
My eyes are on Farrow. Because he has his fingers threaded through his bleach-white hair, stunned. He moves off the wall, and I step back from Jane.
He hugs her, and very deeply, he says, “Thank you.”
She sniffs back more tears and squeezes him tightly. I smile, and it’s hard to think there was a time where I worried they wouldn’t get along.
After they pull apart, I ask, “Does Thatcher know?”
“Oui.” She nods. “He’s more than okay with this, if it’s what you two choose.” She throws up her hands to me. “There’s absolutely no rush. You can take years to decide, and you can always say no. I just wanted to extend the offer before you get married.” She smiles at Farrow. “And just so you know, this announcement isn’t your birthday gift.”
He lets out a deep laugh. “Hate to break it to you, Cobalt, but what you just gave me can’t be topped.”
Tears well with her brightening smile. She brushes her fingers under her long lashes. “I’m glad you think so.”
I hug Janie again and whisper, thank you. About a billion times, and then she leaves the daycare. With a soft glance, Farrow and I acknowledge that we want privacy for a few more minutes, maybe an hour or more—so we end up sitting on these miniature plastic chairs.
Farrow picks up a Batman action figure, his inked fingers shifting with precision and consideration over the plastic joints and cape. “I’m surprised your dad let little kids play with DC toys.”
“Begrudgingly. He always told my mom that they were doing a disservice to future generations by spoiling them with crap.”
Farrow smiles. “Sounds like your dad.” His brown eyes flit up to me. “What do you think, wolf scout?”
I rest my forearms on my thighs, the tiniest chair uncomfortable under my ass, but I couldn’t be more comfortable in this room with Farrow. A man I trust and love. “I want to have kids with you down the line, but I haven’t thought much about how we’re having them. Until now.” I rake a hand through my thick hair. “Have you thought about it?”
“How I’m going to have kids?” he repeats.
“Yeah, even before me. When you were younger, did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?”
“Not a big one.” Farrow places the toy Batman down. “I didn’t dwell on that shit. I knew it’d be dependent on my husband.”
I feel an uncontrollable smile grow on my face. That husband is going to be me. I look to the left so he’s not seeing the brunt-force of any lovesick emotion. But when I glance back, he’s smiling too knowingly. Like I just jerked off to his photos in a scrapbook with hearts drawn around his face.
“Need a private moment?” he teases.
“Away from you? Always. Give me three millenniums.” I wait for him to add his technicality about me not living that long, but he’s just grinning. I gesture to him. “You’re finally conceding and realizing immortality could potentially exist, and that I’m immortal.” Triumphantly, I lean back on the tiny chair. And then I almost tip backwards. “Jesus.” I catch myself and bow forwards.