“Bear—”
“No, please. Please just let me finish. Because you have to know what you did for me. For us. Otter, we wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for you. I really don’t think we would. Not as we are now. Maybe we would have survived, but we wouldn’t be alive. Because we didn’t have a home. We didn’t know how to live. And then you came back and you showed us how, and you protected us and kept us safe and made sure that no matter what, we would always be safe and happy, regardless of what else happened.
“And then there was… just. Jonah. And my mom. And Isaiah. And your stupid ex-boyfriend teacher who apparently still wanted to bone you, and I really fucking hated that guy. Like, you don’t even know how much. And then—and then Mrs. Paquinn, and you, and I had your fucking ring around my neck, okay? I stood above you when all those machines were beeping and you had a goddamn tube down your throat, and I thought you were going to die. And it wasn’t fair. After everything we’d been through, it wasn’t fair. But you didn’t, okay? You didn’t, and you opened your eyes, and then we got married and then the Kid was gay and got addicted to drugs, and you know how that went.”
“Holy summarizing,” Otter said, voice rough.
“I know. And when I say this all out loud, it sounds fucking ridiculous. I mean, how was any of that real? But it was. This was our life. And we made it this far, and I just—I fucking love you, Otter. I love you because, no matter what happened, no matter what got thrown at us, you made sure to shield us as best you could. You’re my husband, okay? And my best friend. And I want to get you pregnant. Fuck. Not you. I want to get someone else pregnant. And not by having sex with them! By having the doctor put some jizz in a vagina, or however that works, because honestly? I’m not really clear on the specifics yet. Like. Is it a turkey baster? Is that a real thing? Because that sounds disgusting. So. Here. This is yours. You made most of it, but since we’re going back to Oregon, I updated it. Just. Flip to the page I marked with that sticky note I had to use because I couldn’t find the stupid I’m completely anal tabs that you used.”
And then I thrust his binder at him.
He gaped up at me.
“Take it!” I demanded.
He did. He reached up slowly and took the binder from me. He set it in his lap, and even though I thought I should sit back down next to him, I couldn’t figure out how to make my legs work. So I stood above him. Like an idiot.
He ran his hand reverently over the cover of the binder before opening it and flipping to the page I’d marked.
“It’s not as comprehensive as all the stuff you did,” I said, chewing on my thumbnail. “And there’s probably a lot of stuff I’m missing.
And it’s seriously going to be fucking expensive. I mean, how hard is it to get a chick pregnant, right? High schoolers do it all the fucking time. Creed did it to Anna and they didn’t have to pay seventy grand. I mean, what the fuck? But it’s called the Northwest Surrogacy Center, and it’s based out of Portland. It’s supposed to be the best, and we go in, tell them we want to knock up a woman, and then they’ll trot them out like an auction or something, and we have to judge them, which seems really mean, but I don’t want our baby to come out with beady eyes and a hook nose, so I get why. Though I’m still fuzzy on the auction, or how that works, because that seems sort of demeaning. But then we give them all our money and we’ll have to live on ramen and Fig Newtons for the rest of our lives, because once you have a kid, you’re broke and don’t ever get to have privacy anymore ever. But I want that. With you. I want to eat ramen and Fig Newtons with you forever, because I’m ready. I’m sorry I took this long to get here. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t want it. But I’m ready now. And I know there’s the Kid and his whole deal, but we can’t put off our lives because of him. We can’t. It’s not fair to us. And he wouldn’t want that. I don’t want that. And I hope you don’t either. So yeah. The end. Can I please get you pregnant?” I sighed and put my face in my hands. “I don’t know why I keep saying that.”
I heard him close the binder.
I heard knees pop as he pushed himself up.
And then I was surrounded by him, his big arms around me, squeezing me so tightly that I thought my bones were creaking. And he was shaking, so much so that I thought he was laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked suspiciously.
And then I heard him choke out a sob.
That’s when I realized that I, Derrick Thompson, had made my husband, Oliver Thompson, cry.
“Whoa,” I whispered fervently.
And that’s when I felt it, the wetness on my neck from where his face was pressed against me. I wiggled my arms out from where they were trapped between us and stood on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck. He shuddered against me, and we swayed back and forth while he shook. I would have been worried about his reaction if I hadn’t heard him mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” against my skin.
Eventually, he pulled back. His eyes were red and leaking, and he looked like the best thing I’d ever seen. “Are you being serious?” he asked me hoarsely.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling my own lip trembling. “Let’s make a baby.”
And he laughed then, and he was crying at the same time, but it was such an awesome sound, made all the better when he picked me up, hollering in my ear as he spun me around and around and around, my feet knocking boxes over but neither of us caring.
He set me back down and took my face in his hands before leaning in and kissing me fiercely, and it was like that first kiss all over again, so wonderful and frightening and unexpected that it knocked the breath from my chest. But this was different. I didn’t know who I was the first time.
I did now.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked again.
For a moment, I was offended that he could even ask such a thing after all I’d said, but then I realized just how extraordinarily important this was to him. That I had finally agreed to the one thing he’d wanted for a very long time. But I’d been selfish, wrapped in my own insecurities and those belonging to my brother, but it couldn’t be just about him or me. Otter owned just as much of my heart as the Kid did, and I promised myself I’d do everything I could to make sure he knew that.
“Yeah,” I said, sniffling just a little. “I’m sure.”
“We’re going to be parents,” he said, sounding awed. “Bear, we’re going to be parents.”
“Damn right we are. Not only that, we’re going to be the best parents. Like, our kid will be the most well-adjusted, normal, and—why the hell are you laughing!”