Page 56 of A Beginner's Guide to Forever
I know she’s only trying to help, but she’s wrong. I need to meet someone, date for a while, get married, then try for a baby. That takes years. And even if it didn’t, this isn’t a timeline I would have chosen for myself. She and Will have been together for twelve years. That’s twelve years of Christmases and birthdays and anniversaries that I never got to share with someone special. Twelve years of vacations and memories ... I swallow past a lump in my throat.
“Well, thanks for the encouragement. I’ll figure it out.”
“Just tell him what you want,” Scarlet says.
“No, I can’t do that.”
She looks confused. “Why not?”
“To just come right out and say what you want?” I shake my head. “You really haven’t dated in a while, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.” She chuckles. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s just so . . .thirsty.”
A surprised chuckle escapes Scarlet’s lips. After that, we’re both quiet for a moment, and I’m not quite sure what else there is to say.
“You’ve always been a rebel, Less. You’ve always dreamed big and loved hard. It’s no surprise to me that you want it all. An amazing career. Adventure. A hot younger man.” She winks.
My life is a far cry from a Hallmark movie. She makes me sound greedy. Maybe I am.
“It’s really not fair,” she adds wistfully.
No, it’s not. I’ve sacrificed so many things for my work. I never thought marriage and children would be among them. But rather than dive into what-ifs that will only leave me feeling worse, I plaster on a smile and accept Chloe’s offer to have a tea party.
While I drink pretend tea with Chloe, Scarlet prepares lunch. She and Will move like a unit—one of them spreading peanut butter onto a slice of bread, the other securing lids onto plastic kiddie cups.
Crosby drops a cup of juice, and Will catches it midair before it has a chance to spill.
“Impressive,” I congratulate him with a slow clap.
He grins. “Didn’t you know? Saving the day is my specialty.”
“Yeah, but what are you guys going to do once you’re outnumbered?” I ask, digging into the container of take-out salad Scarlet has placed in front of me. There’s no point going home for meals alone when they insist I stay.
“The key,” Will says, unwrapping a deli sandwich, “is sticking to our zones, playing defense.”
“Zones?” I chuckle.
Scarlet opens for a bite of the sandwich that Will feeds her.
“The first few weeks, her main zone will be breastfeeding; mine will be handling these two.” He points between their son and daughter, who are happily eating peanut butter sandwiches.
I spear a cucumber with my fork. “I imagine that would be difficult to switch up.”
“Exactly.”
“What are we doing for your birthday?” Scarlet asks, stealing a potato chip from Will’s plate.
I wave her off. She is, after all,verypregnant. Her feet have swollen like crazy, and I can tell how uncomfortable she is. Party planning is the last thing I’d want to drop on her plate. “I’ll probably just take myself to get a massage or something.”
“That’s crazy.” She shakes her head. “We are going to celebrate you.”
“Scar.” I point to her belly. “You are weeks, or possibly even days, away from delivering that baby. Please don’t worry about me.”
“Is your boy friend coming into town?”
I don’t miss the way she calls him both a boy and a friend—but not my boyfriend, which he isn’t.
