“In the way that it sounds like you’re saying something nice to me.”
“And why wouldn’t I be saying something nice to you?”
“Because…”
She stops. She wants to say Because I’m a loser. But she feels for a moment like maybe she isn’t a loser, especially here, in Luke’s fragrant bed, with a clear head and a shaft of golden morning sun cutting through a gap in his drapes, with his eyes on her like that, like she is a good thing, not a bad thing, and the soft, shocking secret that may be growing inside her right now.
“No,” she says instead. “You’re right. I’m freaking amazing.”
“Well, I did not say that precisely,” he replies with a twinkle and Jessica rolls her eyes and play-pushes him before sighing and leaning back into the pillows. “Do you ever think about the next ten years, Luke?”
“What aspect of the next ten years?”
“I don’t know, I guess the substance of it? What they’re going to be for? I mean, did you ever think about, I don’t know, having kids? With any of your exes?”
“Kids?” Luke lets out a small dry laugh. “No. No, I never did think about kids. I mean, what sort of a world is this to bring new life into? This shitty, disgusting world. No. It was never on the agenda.”
Jessica feels the playful mood dip and she stifles a sigh. “And now?”
“Well, I don’t see the world getting any better, do you?”
“So you don’t think a child’s world is what you make it?”
“Hey, I know I have super-powers, but I’m not sure they extend to ending poverty, racism, war, and disease.”
“But you can protect your children, can’t you? Surely?”
“I’m not sure you can. Especially a child of mine, whose skin would be the wrong color for this world. Maybe it would be unbreakable like mine, but damn sure everyone would try to test that. Every day would be an uphill battle. And I’m tired enough fighting for myself, let alone for a child that didn’t ask to be born.”
Jessica nods, mutely.
“What about you?” he asks. “You ever think about having a child?”
She smiles tightly. “Yeah, I mean sometimes, I guess. But then I think, what sort of mother would I be? You know. With all my issues.”
“Well, yeah, there’s that too. Not just the world that can mess up a kid. Moms and dads can do a pretty good job of that too.”
Jessica reels slightly at his words, not the words she expected, not what she was looking for—instead, confirmation of every doubt she’s ever had about herself and her place in this world. She feels tears spring hard behind her eyes and pushes them back down and then, thank God, her phone buzzes and Malcolm’s name appears on her screen.
“Sorry,” she says. “I have to take this. It’s work. Yes?” she says abruptly as she answers.
“Yo. How are you?”
“Please don’t make small talk, Malcolm.”
“Yeah. Sorry. But listen up, I have news. I have in-for-ma-tion.”
Jessica rolls her eyes at his division of the word into four precise syllables and mutters, “Shoot.”
“I can’t do this on the phone. I think we should meet up. I can be at your office in ten minutes. Maybe seven?”
“I’m not at my office.”
“Oh. Where are you?”
“None of your business. It’s Saturday morning.”
“Yeah. I guess. But—”