Page 114 of The Arrangement
Tears fill my eyes, and pain floods my chest. “I don’t really know. We were at the hospital, and Jason was holding Arlo. And I felt this deep shift inside me. I don’t know where it came from, and it didn’t dissipate through the day. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”
“What kind of a shift, sweetheart?”
“I’ve never really wanted kids,” I say. “I never really wanted to be married, either. And now I’m married, and I think I want kids, but I’m not sure, and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
She grins. “Why didn’t you want to get married, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know.” I sniffle. “I told myself that men always screwed up my life—and that’s true. They did. But now that I’m on this side of the fence, I think I was scared that I’d pick the wrong guy.”
Her nod is telling, as if she already understands what I might not.
We sit quietly and listen to the storm. The thunder’s loud, cracking like gunshots left and right, and lightning flashes light into the night sky like fireworks. It would be a great night to lie in bed and cuddle.
Instead, I’m wondering where my husband is and if he’s cross with me.
“I’m going to take the blame for this one,” she says, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?”
She rocks back and forth in her chair. “I should’ve left your grandfather long before he died. Maybe if I had, your mother would’ve had the strength to avoid your father like the plague.” She winks. “But I’m glad she didn’t because we got you, the greatest thing—besides that golf cart—that ever happened to me.”
I snort.This woman.
“I set a bad example,” she says plainly. “I’ve carried that around with me for most of my life. I was blinded by what I thought was right, and I cared too much about what was socially acceptable. I should’ve said screw it all and did what I wanted—and that was to get out of an unhealthy relationship.”
“Oh, Meems.”
She stops rocking. “But you aren’t like your mom and me, little girl. You’re strong. You’re the best of us. You learned from our mistakes and did better. Youdemandedbetter for yourself.”
I can barely see her through the tears fogging my eyes.
“If I had seen the way love was shown to women the way you’ve seen it, I would’ve been scared of it, too. I wish I would’ve been leerier of it and not just accepted the first man to tell me he loved me. We’d all have been better off.”
“That’s the thing,” I say. “I’ve always felt that if someone loves you, it gives them a chance to come into your life like a wrecking ball. I didn’t want to give up my autonomy. I didn’t want to feel stuck or broken like you and Mom. It was better to be alone.”
She smiles. “It was. But is it now?”
“Of course not.” I laugh softly. “But today, I held baby Arlo, and I felt myself maybe wanting kids. And I’m afraid I’m losing who I am. That or I’m having a super early midlife crisis.”
“Or you could just have finally found a soft landing pad and, for the first time, feel safe enough to allow yourself to wish for a husband and babies.”
“… for the first time, feel safe enough …”
That’s it. There’s the truth.
“You don’t have to be scared of love, Chloe,” Mimi says. “But you better damn well fight for it when you find it because it doesn’t come around often.”
My spirits rise as a set of headlights drift across the window. I spring to my feet, ready to throw myself around Jason’s neck and tell him a million times that I love him.
Because I do.
I’ve probably loved him for a long time. I was just too scared to accept it.
“It looks like he’s home,” Mimi says as footsteps splash outside and a knock raps against the door. “Come in.”
“Hey, Jason.” I flinch. “Gannon?”
His face is pale, and he’s dripping wet. Two more sets of headlights shine up the driveway.
