17. Chapter Seventeen
More children should be considered carefully. It’s a momentous decision and should not be undertaken lightly.
A Young Woman’s Guide to Raising Obedient Children
Dr. Francine Pascal Reid, (1943)
T he next afternoon, I sit with Brit on the plane and we talk. About everything. My fears, her fears, what our friendship means to us. I tell her that J.B. wants another baby and she surprises me with her wholehearted support.
″Why wouldn’t you want another one? Your kids are amazing and you’re a wonderful mother.”
“It’s a lot to think about.”
″You thought too much about it the first time and look what happened. Just see what happens this time,” Brit says .
″You sound like a different person,” I marvel.
″Things are clearer now,” she admits. The flight attendant stops her cart by Brit’s seat and asks what we’d like. “I want an iced tea, but a cold one, not some lukewarm can with ice watering it down,” Brit orders.
Maybe things are clearer for her, but my Brit can still be a real bitch.
But I still love her.
J.B. picks me up at the airport. The kids run into my arms, and I sink to the floor, tears in my eyes and heart in my throat as I hold their wriggling bodies.
My babies.
They go to Morgan for hugs, and I’m surprised when Brit opens her arms to them.
I’m even more surprised when Brit accepts J.B.’s offer of a ride home. She crawls into the third row of seats with Morgan, and the kids stare wide-eyed at them.
After I’m home, after the hours spent cuddling the kids and giving them the PG version of the trip, getting them to sleep, and telling J.B. the rest of what happened, I flop on the bed.
″Are you glad you went?” he asks.
I sigh tiredly. “I am. Despite everything. Did I tell you that Bron is coming to visit next week?”
″You told me three times. ”
″Well, Morgan told me at least that many times.” I watch as J.B. strips off his pants. “You know, you could give some of those dancers a run for their money.”
He gives his hips a shimmy. “Think so?”
″Know so.” I sit up and pull my shirt over my head. “So, are we going to do this?”
″Do what?”
I grin. “Make a baby. Just one this time, so put away whatever super sperm–”
I don’t get a chance to finish before J.B. is on the bed with me.
The End