I perked up. “In the guest bathroom? Why aren’t you keeping them in your bathroom?”
“They’re in every bathroom,” she admitted guiltily. “What can I say? I’m a little obsessed.”
“You think?” I ran a hand over my eyes. “Pregnant.” The idea…I shivered.
Laynie looked at me curiously as she crossed over to the couch. She sat down next to me. “Do you not want babies?”
I hesitated with my answer, not sure if it was polite to tell a woman who was desperate to get pregnant that the idea made me want to vomit. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “Maybe. But probably not.”
“If you don’t want them, that’s fine. Why do you sound like you feel guilty about it? If you’re concerned about me, don’t be. Not everyone wants kids. I get it.”
“I was a little worried about you.” Then because I was tired and because she was my friend, I said the thing that had been nagging at me since I’d agreed to get married. “Mostly I’m worried about JC.”
“He wants them?”
“He says he wants what I want. But he’s always wanted kids.” JC hadn’t mentioned his desire for children since I’d said I didn’t want them, but we’d spent a lot of time with Adam and Mira recently, and I saw the way he lit up around their daughter, Arin. “I feel shitty taking parenthood away from him.” My throat tightened. “He’d be such a good dad.”
“And you’d be a good mom. That doesn’t mean you have to be one.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “But maybe I do want one. I don’t know. I can’t decide.” The image of a mini-JC pulled at me. A kid with his charm and my eyes—maybe that was something I could live with.
Then again, I’d wanted a kitten once too until I had to change the litter box.
“So don’t decide. Decide later. And if JC says he wants whatever you want, then why are you fretting about this at all? Don’t you believe him?”
“I believe him. Just…what if he changes his mind?” From out of nowhere, tears were rolling down my face. “He says he can live without them now,” I blubbered, “but what if in five years he realizes he’s in his forties and his biological clock is ticking and he decides he really does want a baby and he regrets marrying me because I won’t give him one?” I wiped at my cheeks. “What if it’s not five years? What if it’s next month? What if he’s making the worst mistake he could ever make?”
“Wow.” Laynie handed me the Kleenex box from the side table. “This is really bothering you.”
I took a handful of tissues and dabbed at my eyes. “Yeah, I guess it is,” I said, a little surprised. I hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on me because I’d been too busy to think about it.
Now that I was thinking about it, all the doubt and worry that I’d pushed aside charged forward. “I bet Corinne wanted kids.”
“Corinne’s dead. What she wanted is moot.”
I stared at her with wide eyes, horrified by her crude reaction.
“Well, she is. I’m not trying to speak ill of the dead, but she’s gone. You can’t compare yourself to her. JC chose you.”
“Right. He chose me.” That didn’t mean he wouldn’t rather have Corinne if he had the choice. But that wasn’t a subject I wanted to delve into any further.
“Here’s the thing.” She stretched an arm out on the back of the couch behind me and set her opposite hand on my knee. “And let me preface this by saying that I’m not very good at these things in general. I’m usually on the receiving end of wise advice, but I think I’ve got a good outlook on this one.”
I smiled encouragingly, almost certain that she couldn’t say anything to make me feel better, but wanting her to try anyway.
“Yes, he could change his mind in five years. But so could you. You could change your mind about a hundred different things that you think you want now. That’s what people do—they change. When you marry someone, you have to accept that you’re both going to change. You hope that you change together. But sometimes you don’t, and that’s something you have to work through. When it happens. Not now. You certainly can’t beat yourself up over what could maybe happen one distant day in the future. You can only worry about what’s going on today and today he loves you and you love him. What else matters?”
“Nothing else matters.” My voice was weak, my throat thick with emotion. Because nothing else did matter. I did love him. More than I thought possible. I wasn’t willing to give him up over this, and at the moment, anyway, I wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted either. So what could we do but live for today?