“Definitely. The second the baby is born, she’ll be hounding us to make the next one.”
I laughed. “She will, huh?”
He smiled. “I’ll make sure she knows we’re practicing.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than air, so happy that my pregnancy didn’t sacrifice the relationship that mattered to me the most. I didn’t have to get my own place, hire my own nanny, worry about covering the health costs this delivery would cause. And I was having a child with the love of my life… I was pretty lucky.
He studied me. “I love that you’re happy.”
My eyes shifted back to him. “How can I not be? I feel like the luckiest person in the world.” I got the man of my dreams, had his baby inside me, fixed all the broken pieces inside me. Life was pretty perfect.
“I believe our moods affect the way our bodies work, and this exuberance you show is great for the baby’s development. I’m sorry I made you feel so scared for those first few months.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault, Deacon.”
“I made a lot of mistakes in the past, so I understand why you were afraid. But I’ve learned.”
“I know you have.”
He drank his wine then licked his lips. “Maybe we should talk about how we’re going to do this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to step back from work…or is Patricia going to be the primary caretaker?”
I felt guilty in retrospect, asking for a raise when I might just go on maternity leave. It was ironic, because now I didn’t even need the money. I didn’t spend my checks on anything besides clothes and lunch, so those zeros were piling up. I’d have enough for a college fund pretty soon…even though I didn’t need that either. “I honestly don’t know what to do.” Now that I was pregnant and connecting with my child, it was hard to imagine running around serving other people when I’d rather be home. But my job was everything to me, and I couldn’t imagine giving it up either. My child would grow up and not need me anymore, and I would need something else to do with my time. Deacon would always have his research. I needed something too.
“I’ll accept whatever you decide. But I do have some suggestions.”
“Okay.”
“You should take the full maternity leave, because that’s time you get to bond with your child. Kline can’t dismiss you for taking it since it’s a legal right in your contract. He might not pay you your full salary, but that doesn’t matter. Once that’s over, ask to move to part time. You’re so essential to this operation that he’ll work with you on it, especially since you’ll go to full time again at some point. That’s what I think you should do.”
I had to take his opinion into consideration since he was the father of my child and the person providing for us. He didn’t outright ask me to quit working, which was probably what he preferred, but he respected me too much to ever make that request. But it was hard to imagine stepping away from my job so dramatically.
He read the unease in my gaze. “You can’t do it all, baby. You’re going to have to make compromises somewhere. You can’t be a full-time mom and an employee who works sixty to seventy hours a week. It balances out with Derek because he’s in school during the day, but with a newborn…it just doesn’t work. And I would feel more comfortable if you were home with our child more than Patricia, not just because you’ll be a better caregiver, but it’s because it’s better for the child.”
“I agree.”
“So, then that’s the plan?” he asked.
I sighed. “I really don’t want to lose my position here. I don’t want to be one of those moms who are so involved with their kids that they have nothing left once they get older. You’ll always have your work. I…I won’t have anything.”
“I understand that. That’s why shifting to part time is a smart move. You’re still here, just not as much as before. You live in the building too, so you can still accomplish a lot, work remotely from your laptop. It can work.”
“Well, I appreciate you not asking me to stay home. It means a lot to me.”
He watched me, his eyes softening. “You would never ask me to give up my work. I’ll never ask you to give up yours.”
Nineteen
Deacon
I sat across from Tucker in the bar, watching him stare at me tentatively, waiting for me to explode like a bomb.
I took another sip of my beer.
“So?”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, what?” he asked. “You’re having a fucking baby. How do you feel about it?”
“Pretty good.”
“That’s all you’re giving me?” he asked incredulously.
“You knew, and you didn’t tell me?” I fired back.