I’m busy reading over blood results on my computer in my office and considering the causes for the increased white blood cell count in the patient when my phone rings.
“Hey, Clint, please tell me my house is still in one piece?” I’m a little concerned when my contractor phones. He was recommended to me by Max, but one week in and we realized the kitchen renovation was going to take longer than planned. That was four weeks ago. Then we heard the granite counters were delayed by a week for delivery. Basically, my house renovation was not going too smoothly. Luckily, my parents are snowbirds and headed to Arizona for the winter.
The voice on the other end speaks. “Hey, Lucas. No, house in one piece. Actually, I have good news. The counters arrived today, which means this time tomorrow the house is complete. We are installing the counters this afternoon, but I always advise 24 hours as we’re putting a seal coat on them and it needs to dry.”
Relief fills me and my body turns into a flurry of thoughts. “This is good news, Clint. That means I can arrange for furniture delivery by the end of the week.” I don’t need to rush this, but I want to as I have Theo this weekend and would love for him to see the new place, possibly have his room ready too. It’s only Tuesday so it’s pushing it, but this is too important for me.
“Thanks for the good news, Clint. I’ll see you tomorrow for a walk-through,” I add before hanging up.
Immediately, I phone Abby and hope she answers as I know she is with patients most of the day, even a surgery or two. Hell, she sometimes gets more action in a day than I do at the clinic.
After two rings, she answers, and I immediately hear a yappy dog barking in the background.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting?”
“Hey, Lucas. It’s no problem, I have a few minutes before I cut Sparky’s balls off.” I can hear the humor in her voice when she says that which is slightly disconcerting.
We met for lunch yesterday and have been texting non-stop since the weekend.
“I know we were going to do sushi tonight, and I don’t want to cancel. But my contractor phoned to say my house is ready. Since I have Theo this weekend, I want to do my damnedest to get his room ready and the house somewhat livable. Tonight, I need to do some shopping, which is definitely not the same enjoyment as being with you,” I explain.
“Lucas, relax. It’s okay,” she assures me, and I know she’s authentic when she says it. “What kind of shopping do you need to do?”
“Well, I have a new bed getting delivered and my guess is it will need sheets. Also need to get paint for Theo’s room.”
“Space theme, right?” Ah, she remembers. “And getting sheets is an important task. Dr. Kade, I do recommend a high thread count and white.”
“You sound like you know your sheets.”
“Hmm, I know my way around a Target,” she jokes, and I have to laugh.
“Large stores scare the hell out of me. I may need to borrow Romeo to be my emotional support dog.”
“If you want some company, I could come,” she offers.
I didn’t think about that, and I don’t want to bore her. But she sounds like someone who would enjoy the outing.
“If you don’t mind, I would love it,” I answer.
“Cool. Well, just pick me up at my place after work. I’ve got to run as Sparky needs to lose something quite valuable,” she mentions casually.
A few hours later, we’re walking around with a cart. Having already picked out a dark royal blue for an accent wall in Theo’s room. We head to the linen section where I throw in towels and begin to look at the sheets. Abby watches me with interest as she leans against the cart.
“Admiring the view?”
“I’m curious what option you’re going for. Your taste in design may tell me a lot about you,” she explains.
Looking in my hand, I see I picked out a grey set. I guess that might be perceived as boring.
“I’m trying to go for neutral colors,” I try to justify.
“That is a good goal, but if you weren’t playing it safe, then what color would you want?” she challenges.
I think about it as I’ve never once thought about the color of sheets on my bed. “I guess something dark since I have white walls.”
“Hmm maybe paint one wall to add some color. What dark color were you thinking?”
“A darker grey?”
She laughs. “Okay, I now know you love grey, but maybe toss a dark blue throw blanket over the end of your bed to add some pop,” she suggests, and I nod my head in contemplation. Abby reaches for a set on the shelf then hands it to me.
“Oh, this is nice, actually… gale force.”
“It is grey but edging towards blue-green.”
I answer by throwing it in the cart and adding a few extra sets. Soon we’re moving to our next section as she pushes the cart and stands on the bottom basket like a kid playing around.
“Now that you picked out my sheet color, then it’s only right that you should christen them with me,” I grin at her.
“I do like the sound of that. I accept my obligation.” She throws a hand to her chest to show her loyalty. Her phone rings, and she pulls it out of her bag and groans when she sees the screen then swipes the call away. We continue to push the cart.
I look at her puzzled. “Okay there?”
Her lips quirk and her tongue glides along her teeth. “Haven’t you heard? Mona got the gossip train moving. My parents have been texting me all afternoon asking if the rumors are true.” She seems to find this slightly entertaining, yet the hint of agitation is there.
I sigh and let my hand rub my head. “Oh geez. This will be fun. You think our parents are already opening a bottle of fifty-year-old malt to celebrate?”
Abby shakes her head. “I have no clue, but I don’t care. I will ignore them until there is something to tell.”
I stop us in our tracks by gently touching her arm, and it makes the cart abruptly stop and her body and the cart nearly crash against each other.
“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she meant or what I want her to mean.
Abby shrugs a shoulder and looks at me a bit stuck on what to say. “I just mean, we don’t really know what we’re doing, do we? And even though we’re in our thirties, not having our parents on the sidelines would be a great bonus.”
I consider what she’s saying, and it makes sense. “I guess you have a point… what are we doing?”
She looks at me, hopeless. “I really don’t know, but I hope I’m not just a distraction for you or the rebound.” Abby is candid, and it makes me appreciate her all the more.
I touch both of her shoulders and turn her, so we’re face to face. “Hey, originally I thought a rebound was what I needed. But you aren’t a rebound or distraction. I don’t know what we’re doing either, but it feels good. Let’s just see where it goes.” My hand caresses her cheek, and her eyes settle with my own.
“That sounds good, Lucas.” The words float in the air, feathery as she gently smiles. Without thought, I plant a kiss on her lips that is a little heavy for a weeknight run to Target. But I enjoy living on the wild side.
After heading to the crafts section, Abby helps me find stencils for making space shapes on the bedroom wall of Theo’s room. We swing by the food aisles to throw in some snacks for later, and somehow Abby convinces me hummus and carrots are a good idea—I throw in some popcorn and cookies for backup. We have a good laugh when we’re in the checkout listening to a teenager in the next aisle on his phone talking about a party this Friday. It makes us recall all the shit we each got up to as teenagers. Good times.
Heading back to her place, she lets Romeo out in the back when we arrive before we make out on the kitchen counter. When the dog returns inside, she fills a red toy with peanut butter and tells me we have a solid twenty minutes of the dog behaving. We use every second riding each other into unconsciousness, and I didn’t want it to end. It’s a high, and she is the one who takes me there.
The next day, Abby stops by my new house after work. I have to admit that I show off my place as I’m happy with the result. Custom-built cabinets in the kitchen with grey-white marble that took forever for delivery and is absolutely worth it, open living room, pool out back, three bedrooms—including the master, which we made several jokes about its importance.
Now she’s helping me paint the stencils of stars, moons, and rocket ships on the accent wall of dark blue that I painted on my lunchbreak. She is sexy in her ripped jeans and old t-shirt, and it’s making it hard for me to focus.
She pours more gold paint into the tray. “Theo will love it. Tomorrow you can furnish the room, then everything should be ready for Friday. What will you do with him this weekend?”
I step off the ladder. “Friday we will settle into his room, Saturday maybe play with Brownie and go to the bookstore to pick out a book, and Sunday, no clue. He is four, so his energy level goes from ten to zero in a minute.”
She smiles at me.
There’s a pause as we look at each other. I realize that she isn’t part of those plans and feel the need to explain. “I was hoping you would be able to christen my new room, but it will have to wait.” I try to catch her direct gaze with my own; I do, and there is a faint wry smile on her mouth.
Stepping closer to her, I grab her free hand with my own. “Please don’t take it the wrong way that you’re not in our plans for the weekend.” My voice is almost delicate.
“Lucas, I get it completely. Don’t worry. We’re new. Very new. We should see where we’re going before your son joins the picture,” she assures me, and her look is genuine. Gosh, this woman is understanding.
It isn’t a big deal to her, so it should not be a big deal to me, yet I have to ask…
“I never actually asked… does it bother you I have a kid?”
She flinches under my touch and her eyes look at me startled. “Of course not, Lucas. He is part of you and your life. I know you’re the package deal if this goes anywhere.”
I pull her close as we both hold out our brushes to the side. Kissing her forehead, I need her to know.
“You are something special, Abby,” I whisper.
She gently tilts her head to the side. I’ve noticed she isn’t good with compliments.
Still, I need to ask more…
“I never asked, what is your view of children?”
She steps away and fidgets with her brush and looks to the wall. “As in, do I think they are little gremlins or make rainbows happen?” She’s trying to avoid the real meaning of my question.
“As in, do you ever want kids?” For some reason my stomach tightens, and an almost metallic taste fills my mouth. I’m scared for her answer.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “Truthfully… I don’t think I want kids. It was never in my dreams or life plan.”
My stomach twists and my heart drops. I feel weak and empty. This isn’t what I wanted to hear. Because I like her. A lot. Everyone in their life has a “what if” girl or guy. Even if you are happily married, you most likely have a what-if girl or guy. She is my what-if girl.
Even though my what-if girl is in my arms and possibilities are laid out in front of us, it doesn’t matter. Because not wanting kids is a dealbreaker.
A big dealbreaker.