Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“On the phone to your mom yesterday, you said ten years, if ever when she teased you about kids. Do you not want to be a mom?”
His question seems so random that I have to pull back a little so I can see him.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he rushes, a very un-Brady-like thing to say. “I know a lot of people choose not to have kids, and that’s perfectly fine. Best to know what you want than have a child and not want or be able to care for it. Not that you would do that either, but I’m just saying.”
“I know, relax,” I say, enjoying this little frazzled side of him a bit more than I should, considering the conversation. “It’s fine, really.”
“So…” He waits.
“First, surprised you caught that. I was only teasing because she was teasing, and I know that’s a fear of hers seeing as I’m the only child, not that she would ever pressure me for real either way.”
He nods. “And with you wanting to be a teacher or have a day care or whatever, I’d understand how those students would all be yours in a way, and one of your own might be hard.”
A strong sense of admiration settles over me at his words, bringing with it a hint of vulnerability, but not in a negative way. It’s just a little strange, if not exciting, that he seems to see a part of myself I’ve never really shared—at least not in so many words. “I don’t not want kids. Maybe just one, but…”
“What?” he pushes, almost an eagerness to his tone that has me gazing at him curiously.
“This is another one of those things I’ve never said out loud.”
“Tell me,” he whispers.
“It’s just there are so many kids out there who don’t have homes, you know?” His eyes snap between mine, hanging on every word. A sudden sense of uncertainty circles around my shoulders and I give a stiff shrug. “And I mean, I don’t really know how my body would do with a pregnancy.”
He frowns. “Because your mom had a hard time?”
A sad chuckle leaves me. “That’s just another potential roadblock.” He waits for more, and I decide to just lay it out there because this is Brady. If my worries are safe with anyone, it’s with him. “So…TMI maybe, but I’ve never had a regular cycle, if you know what I mean, and that one little fact, mixed with my mom’s troubles and having to work really hard to keep weight on as it is, so I’m sickly and weak…just feels like a lot of stress. And from what I hear, stress is also a factor making getting pregnant even harder, so it’s mission impossible as far as I’m convinced, no matter how you look at it.
“And yeah, you’re right. I think all that played a part in my going the teacher route of life. You know, the desire to be a second home for hundreds of kids over my lifetime in case I can’t have one of my own.” I chance a glance his way, and he’s still right there, hanging on my every word.
“Senior year I was transferred from my pediatric doctor to an adult endocrinologist, and in that very first visit, he told me, unsolicited I might add, that even if I could get pregnant with a nearly nonexistent ovulation, my body doesn’t offer much room to grow a tiny human. He said my hips aren’t ‘birthing hips.’”
“Fuck him.” Brady glares.
I chuckle. “That’s exactly what my dad said after the guy dropped me as his patient later that afternoon.” I smile wide. “My dad threatened to kick his ass before we walked out so…fair.”
I sigh and shrug a shoulder. “Anyway, I hadn’t thought about it too much until after everything that happened to Ari. It’s not like I’m ready to be a mom anytime soon anyway, but I don’t know. I think it might be dangerous for me, and that just reconfirms what I’ve thought over the years.”
“That you would want to adopt a child who doesn’t have a mother to love him?”
My lips curve to one side, and I peek over at him. “Or her.”
A throaty chuckle escapes him, and he nods, getting lost in his own thoughts for a while.
A bit later, I start to move, but Brady grabs me.
“Wait,” he whispers, tugging me back to him.
I’m between his legs, my chest to his, temple resting against his chin. His arms come around me and he rubs his cheek along mine softly, maybe even subconsciously, as his thumb traces along mine over and over.
In front of us, the sun starts to disappear behind the mountain and I get lost in the sight.
I could sit here all day, but the sun is gone now, and our conversation took a heavy turn that, for some reason, seems to have weighed on him more than I’d expect.