Page 49 of Mountains Divide Us

“So then,” she said, “what’s wrong with you? You sound sad.”

“I don’t know. I feel sad, but it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“You’re sure you’re not busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” she said. “I’m self-employed, remember? I can take a break whenever I want.”

“Thanks.”

She and Brady were slowly convincing me that I was worth loving and that I wasn’t a burden. Except for when I was with my grandparents, I’d felt that way my whole life, but I’d never had friends like Brady and Juni before.

“So Frank’s this great guy. I mean, really great, Juni. Like, I thought he was too old for me, you know? There’s a huge age difference. But when I’m with him, it doesn’t feel like that.”

“You like him.”

It wasn’t a question. She already knew the truth. She could probably hear it in my voice.

“Yes.”

“Okay, but isn’t that a good thing?”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Yes, it’s a good thing, until you get to the logistics of it all. He’s almost fifty. He hasn’t had a family yet, but he wants one, and like, the clock’s ticking.”

“You don’t want children?”

“I do, but I…” Taking a deep breath, I released it and just said it. “I can’t have children.”

“Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. I’ve never told you. I don’t really like talking about it.”

“I understand. But you know, there are lots of ways to have a family.”

Like I’d never heard that before. Duh. I knew that. I didn’t need anyone to tell me. There was surrogacy and in vitro. Unfortunately, those options would never be available to me. If I was ever going to be lucky enough to have kids, I would have to adopt. And with my salary, my lack of good health insurance, and the fact that I lived with my grandpa, I was sure to be on the top of every adoption agency’s list. Right.

“I know, Juni, but it’s different than having your own kids. And Frank told me he wants a big family. He was adopted, so I’m sure he meant his own family.”

“I know it must feel like that to you.” Her next question was tentative. “But can I tell you a story?”

“Okay.”

“My friend Teonna adopted a little boy, and she told me, before he came along, she felt an emptiness inside her because she could never carry a child, but as soon as she held that kid in her arms, all the emptiness melted away. She’s so in love with her baby, and it doesn’t matter one bit that he isn’t hers biologically.” Juneau cleared her throat quietly. “Can I ask what happened? I mean, why you can’t have children?”

“I had really bad endometriosis. They did surgery three times in my teens and early twenties to remove scar tissue because it was so painful, but it kept coming back. And then, in college, I dated this guy, and the condom broke and…”

“Oh, Sam.”

“Yeah, but my body couldn’t handle it. It was a tubal pregnancy, and I lost it. Things were damaged beyond repair.”

“I’m so damn sorry.”

“Thank you, but now I feel like I’ve failed as a mother already. You should’ve seen how Frank’s eyes lit up at the restaurant when he talked about having a family someday. And besides, we barely know each other. How can I dump this on him? What would I say? ‘Oh, by the way, we haven’t even had sex yet, but let’s talk about the whole “Do you want kids” sitch.’” I sighed. “He’ll kick me out of his house.”

“If he’s as nice of a guy as you say he is, he will not. Just talk to him, Sam.” She waited a minute before asking, “So you haven’t had sex with him yet?”

“No. Not… quite.”

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