Chapter Thirteen #2
Eventually, Mom nods. “You’re right. I want you to be happy with the person you wind up with. I wish things were easier for you, Belle. I really do. Because love…” Her smile is small and sad. “It’s one of the best things to ever experience and I want you to.”
Sadness sweeps over me. “I feel loved every day, Mom. I love a lot of people and a lot of people love me. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She watches me carefully, a solemn expression on her face that I want gone. Isn’t this supposed to be a fun day? This conversation is anything but.
“And hey,” I joke lightheartedly. “At least you have one grandbaby now. He just has four legs and one and a half ears.”
Her eyes drop down to where Dobby is stretched on the floor, batting at a string hanging from the sweatshirt I stole from Jesse’s closet a long time ago that’s draped on the chair Mom is sitting on.
When she looks up at me, her lips are pressed together again like she’s about to say something but refrains. This time, I don’t push her to enlighten me.
Because the way she stares at Jesse’s sweatshirt tells me I don’t want to know what she’s tempted to ask.
*
Frank is won over by Dobby despite being slightly allergic to him and spends the rest of dinner sniffling. I feel bad that his new furry grandson made his eyes red and watery, but he didn’t seem to mind when they dropped Jesse and I both off at home and said goodbye to the cat before he did to us.
Thankfully, Mom didn’t drill me about Dane or any other man while we ate. I have a feeling Frank is to thank for that, because there were a few times she looked between Jesse and I and acted as though she wanted to say something before her husband would subtly shake his head.
When they’re gone, I debate on going back to my office to finish the sketch that I couldn’t focus on when Mom was giving me the third degree. I stop at the doorway, though, gripping the wall and turning to Jesse who’s halfway down the hall.
“Does your dad want grandkids?” I blurt, wincing as soon as the question is out of my mouth.
Jesse stops mid-step, his spine straightening as he turns to face me. I’m glad he’s far enough away so he can’t see the heat blossoming under my cheeks and probably turning my whole face a hideous shade of red.
Clearing my throat, I scratch my cheek. “I mean, does he ever ask you about settling down and the future? Because my mom brought up dating and said some stuff that got me thinking…” I lift a shoulder. “It just made me wonder if Frank ever brought that stuff up to you.”
I feel dumb for asking. Why did I open my mouth? Frank is usually the calm one who stays out of people’s business. I doubt he would be asking Jesse when he’s having kids since he’s never been in a stable relationship. Ugh. Why do I do this to myself?
Backing up, I tug at the hem of my sweatshirt and try playing it off. “You know what? Forget I asked. Sorry. I’m going to work on—”
“He does,” Jesse cuts me off, not letting me finish. “Want grandkids, I mean. He doesn’t say it outright, but I see the way he interacts with his friends’ grandkids. It’s obvious he’d love to be able to play with one of his own someday.”
I find myself nodding. Their neighbors have a few grandkids who come swim in their pool sometimes. They love hosting them. “I forgot about that. He’s good with kids.”
Jesse doesn’t reply right away. He drags his tongue along the seam of lips, thinking about something that passes over his face cautiously.
“I feel the pressure too, Bells. If that’s why you’re asking, I get it.
Our parents both had kids when they were younger.
They married when they were younger. It’s hard for them to understand how we live the way we do when they didn’t get to experience the same things. ”
His father got married to his mother when they were both twenty.
Jesse was born only a handful of months later.
Frank admitted he only married Jesse’s mother because she was pregnant, which is why that didn’t last long.
She stayed under Jesse was almost ten and then disappeared from both of their lives.
I’m not sure if I’m grateful for my father bailing months after I was born, but I’m indifferent to his existence.
That isn’t what I want for myself.
I want a loving husband and father. A partner. My equal. Somebody who will be supportive of me as much as I am of them.
Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I lean against the hallway wall. “You’re right. I just don’t want to disappoint my mom. Or Frank, for that matter.”
There’s a gentle smile tilting his lips. “You couldn’t even if you tried. Trust me.”
Why am I not convinced of that then? Every parent wants their kid to be successful and happy—financially stable and independent.
But sometimes it feels like they start looking at the things you don’t have more.
I’m doing what I’ve always dreamed of and am supporting myself, I have money tucked away, and a good head on my shoulders.
But I don’t have a stable relationship, I’m not on track for marriage, and unless I become the next Virgin Mary (without the virgin part, of course) and carry the next Jesus Christ, I won’t be having kids anytime soon either.
I’m thirty-four, and I know my time to have a baby is limited. My last annual gynecology appointment was the most action I’d gotten in way too long, and she pointed out that I was nearing the geriatric pregnancy stage of my life.
I’d brushed it off at the time, but now…
Now maybe I shouldn’t have.
Jesse is in front of me, lifting my chin to meet his eyes before I realize he moved. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Normally I’d feel all warm and fuzzy at the compliment, but I don’t.
“I’m thinking that being a woman sucks. Men can have babies into their seventies.
It’s happened before. But the second women turn thirty it’s like a clock appears and everybody is reminding you that your time is almost up if you don’t make a decision. ”
A frown weighs on his lips. “Have people been making comments to you?” There’s an edge to his tone, like he’s willing to defend me to anybody necessary if I just give him a list of names.
It’s so sweet. “Nobody has outwardly told me I’m on borrowed time. Well, except that one guy who sold me my car a couple years ago.” I wince, remembering that encounter that I’d forgotten about until just now.
Jesse stands a little taller. “What guy? What’s his name? What did he say?”