Trading with the Boys

“Anyway, we decided that it was now or never. If we were going to have children, it would have to be sooner rather than later. I was twenty-seven at the time, and more than ready.”

I thought back to it like it was yesterday: clearing out the room, painting it neutral green. I started looking at maternity clothes, baby furniture. I had all the catalogs…

“So we made the decision, and I was ecstatic,” I continued. “Or at least I thought we’d made the decision. As it turned out, Eric didn’t care either way.”

“Because he already had a son?” asked Tate.

“I guess David was a part of it,” I shrugged. “But thinking back? Eric never really enjoyed children. He was never a loving father, never encouraging. He rarely went to anything to with David, even his games and practices. I did all that for him.”

Jacob nodded. “I remember you in the stands,” he said vaguely. “I don’t remember him.”

I shook my head. “He was never there. He half-assed anything to do with his son, so I don’t know why it would be any different having a baby with me.” I frowned, bitterly. “But I was too blind to see it. Too wrapped up in what I wanted to think about anything to do with him.”

I paused, taking another sip of my drink. The tears were gone now. Part of me was mad at myself for ever shedding them.

“You can guess the rest,” I shrugged. “He half-assed getting me pregnant, too. He was working crazy hours by then and our love life was already shot. It never panned out, and the nursery stayed empty.”

Cole scooted his chair closer and slid one big arm around me. It was everything I could do to keep it together.

“A year later he started working overseas. He stayed there more and more, leaving David and I to fend for ourselves. Then one day a server showed up at the door, and handed me divorce papers. I actually laughed.”

“He met someone else, didn’t he?” asked Cole.

I nodded, and the guys groaned.

“What a shithead.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled into my glass. “He was definitely a shithead.”

I drained the rest of my drink in one big gulp. Before I even put it down, Tate was already sliding me another one.

“It’s probably for the best, right?” I asked, though I knew the answer. “If I’d had his child he would’ve still left. He wouldn’t have supported us, either. When David asked for money to go away to college, his father barely took the time to say no.”

A long moment of silence passed, punctuated only by the ticking of the kitchen’s cheap plastic clock. My half-finished Alfredo sauce was congealing on the stove.

“Consider yourself lucky,” said Tate. “You could’ve been forever tied to that asshole. And now you’re not.”

Squeezing my shoulder, Cole nodded. “Family’s important. It’s number one, actually. I sure as hell was raised that way. But as I grew up and took a look around, I realized something.”

“What?”

“Not everybody is like that.”

He lowered his face, causing me to look into his eyes. His expression was warm. But also serious.

“If that room is special to you, we understand. But also know that it can still be filled. It can still be a nursery one day. The failure between you and your ex…” Cole smiled and shook his head. “That means nothing.”

I smiled back at him through glassy eyes. I knew he was right, of course. But it was good to hear it.

“I want you to move in,” I said abruptly. Reaching out for Jacob, I took his hand too. “The both of you. All three of you if you want,” I said, looking across at Tate. “The truth is, I love you guys. I love having you here.”

“And we love being here,” Tate confirmed.

“You’ve changed my life for the better, all of you,” I went on. “I want you to stay as long as you like. Stay until you get bored, or until you peel away one by one,” I blushed, “to find real relationships, or—”

“Whoa. Stop.”

Tate’s eyebrows were knitted together. He looked back at me almost angrily.