“Okay. It’s… just….”
“Otter,” I said quietly. “You know you can tell me anything. We’re a team, okay? That’s what we do.”
“I know,” he said, eyes darting away before coming back to me. “We’ve been through a lot.”
“Yeah. But we’ve gotten this far.”
He smiled at me, and I thought it was possible I’d do anything for this man. “Yeah. Yeah, we have. Which is why I think we’re ready.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but we kind of already did the whole marriage proposal thing, remember? It was really rather overly dramatic, what with you waking up in a hospital and everything like we’re in some kind of goddamn overwrought romance novel or something.”
“I’m pretty much the bad boy to your plucky heroine.”
“Ass,” I said, turning my hand over so I could hold his hand properly. “But I mean, if you want to ask me again, I’m okay with—”
“I want to be a dad.”
I did the absolute worst possible thing I could do then. I laughed. And the hurt look on his face tore me to shreds. “No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m not laughing at you. That was just… a knee-jerk reaction. It’s not—god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Okay? You’re—”
“I’m ready, Bear,” he said, interrupting me. “I know we’ve… danced around the topic, and I haven’t pushed. I knew you needed time with everything. I mean, with the Kid and Dom and that whole… thing. The move. Trying to protect him as best you could—it’s admirable. You’ve done well by him, Bear. Really good. Maybe better than anyone else could have done if they’d been in your same position.”
“It wasn’t just me,” I said sharply. It annoyed the hell out of me when he downplayed his own contributions. “It was you too. You helped… us. Me. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t—okay. That’s fine. We’re a team. We have been for a long time now, and I think we’re ready. I’ve been… uh. I’ve been researching. Everything.” He stood up quickly, jarring the table a little as his chair scraped the floor. He let go of my hand. “Hold on, okay?”
I could only nod as he backed out of the kitchen.
I told myself to breathe.
To really breathe.
It was only a minute before he came back, but by then I’d already started to work myself up again, that little voice in my head laughing at me, telling me that it was a mistake, that I’d never be able to do this, because what could I possibly know about being a parent? You never had one, it whispered. You never had a father, and your mother hated you enough to leave you and the Kid behind to fend for yourselves after stealing almost everything you had. You scraped by, you crawled through the dirt, and sure, yeah, somehow you’re here now, in a nice house with a nice job and a nice man, but what exactly did you do to deserve this? And what could you possibly have to offer anyone else?
I pushed it away, but it didn’t go far. It never did.
He held a three-ring binder in his hands, and maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe he’d already had it somewhere in the boxes in his office upstairs, but it was blue, a pale blue like a spring sky.
Or like a little boy, that color you used when you told the world, look, look, look, I’m having a kid, I’m having a baby boy, and this is how I show everyone. He’s blue, baby blue, and he’s mine, he’s ours, and look at it. Just look at it.
His eyes were a little wide as he came back to the table, sitting back down beside me, jostling the wineglass as he set the binder down in front of him, hands resting on the top, his wedding ring flashing in the candlelight. He cleared his throat, fingers flexing just a little. “Okay, I know this is a lot. I know it is. But I just want you to listen. Just for a bit.”
I nodded jerkily.
His smile was a little brittle as he tapped the binder. “It’s in here. Just. Um. Some of the stuff I’ve looked into.” He opened the binder slowly, and I tried to ignore the way my heart jackrabbited in my chest at the fact that there were color-coded tabs along the edges. It was the stupidest thing to focus on, but I couldn’t look away. “We don’t have to make any decisions right away, and I know this might be a lot to just drop on you, but I thought maybe we could look through some of this together?”
He was nervous, and I was sitting there, dinner forgotten, gaping at him like an idiot. “Some of this,” I managed to say.
“Yeah. Yes. Some of this.” His fingers twitched again on the plastic cover, and I still couldn’t get over that it was divided into sections. “I mean, there are so many options that we have. Things aren’t like they were when we first got together. Things are better now for same-sex couples. We don’t even have to look outside the US. I mean, we can, and if that’s the direction you want to go, I’m totally on board with that, but… I just want to start. You know? Somewhere. A conversation. About adoption or surrogates and—okay. I know it’s a lot, and I can tell by the look on your face that—”
“I don’t have a look on my face! And wow. I really didn’t mean to shout that. Holy shit.”
He shook his head fondly. “It’s not—Bear. I want this, and I want you to want this too. I don’t want to force you. Or push it. But I’d like for us to talk about it, you know?”
I could do this.
I could do this.
I probably couldn’t do this, but I sure as hell could wing it.