“That depends,” my mom said. “Is it good when the tumors get smaller? I forget how that works.”
We ordered in some takeout for lunch to celebrate the good news. I’d learned that it wasn’t a total victory. With cancer, it felt like there was no such thing. It could always come back. With mom, it felt like it always would come back. I was proud as hell of her for fighting it the way she had every time, just like she’d fought for my brother and me.
We were working on a large container of lo mien noodles when my mom got a devious glint in her eyes. “So,” she said, looking between Andi and me. “How long are you two going to make me wait for a grandbaby? Because, as you can both see,” she said, making a show of looking more tired and slumping back in her chair. “I might not have much time left.”
I slid my tongue across my teeth, then moved my eyes to Andi. She was watching me with an unusually thoughtful look on her face.
“This reminds me of an old western shootout,” mom said. “Neither of you want to be the first to play your cards. Hmm.”
“I was just thinking you’re supposed to wait until people are married to start asking them about children,” I said.
“Oh, is that so?” mom asked. “I guess I just figured the way you two get along, that would be coming any day now.”
Andi blushed now.
I wanted to throw a fortune cookie at my mom for cornering me like this in front of Andi. I cleared my throat. Instead of throwing the cookie, I cracked it open and tried to read the fortune to change the subject.
I frowned down at the words and then set the fortune aside, hoping no one had noticed. Andi snatched it off the table and read. “A family that brings new life also brings happiness.”
“Okay,” I said, plucking it from her hand and setting it in the bag. “There won’t be any talk of grandbabies because we’re not even married yet.”
“Yet?” Andi asked.
I stammered. “I just mean it’s a little like putting the bull before the horns.”
Both Andi and my mom were leaning in conspiratorially. Damn women. Yes, I was planning to ask Andi to marry me, just as soon as I wouldn’t look like I’d lost my mind for asking her so soon. And yes, I’d already decided having kids with her was something I wanted so much it hurt. Again, none of that felt like the sort of thing you said out loud about a woman you’d only been dating for three months.
“I wonder how he’s planning to ask,” my mom said.
“Mom,” I said. “Maybe you could just let us work things out naturally without trying to force it along.”
She nodded sadly. “Yes. Of course. If only I had all the time in the world to wait for you two young lovers to figure things out.”
“What is it you want, a proposal right here at the table?” I asked.
“I’m more curious about what Andi wants.” She turned to look at Andi, who was watching most of the exchange in rare silence.
“I…” Andi said slowly, moving her eyes between me and my mom. “I think it’s safe to say there will be babies in your future, Miss Collins. Lots and lots of babies.” her eyes were locked on me while she spoke.
One of my eyebrows twitched upwards. “Is that right?”
My mom dropped the fork full of noodles she’d been holding and practically ran into the huge bedroom of her hotel suite, leaving the two of us at the table. “Don’t let me stand in your way, kiddos!”
Andi and I had a silent staring match for a few moments after she left.
“You want kids?” I asked.
“Only if you are the one who puts them in me.”
A low, fiery hunger ignited in my stomach. “You want me to put a baby in you,” I said slowly.
“Yes,” she said. “But it’s like you said. Putting the bull before the horns and all…”
God, I loved this woman. “You realize what you’re saying, right?”
Andi nodded. “There’s the obvious unspoken part, and then the fun part where we get to practice until you get around to doing the thing we seem to want to skirt around saying out loud.”
I grinned. “Yes. I wouldn’t mind a few more practice runs before we start trying for real.”
Andi bit her lip, then did the world’s worst fake impression of a yawn and stretched her left hand toward me, wiggling her ring finger around. She coughed. “It’s-a-size-seven,” she said, squeezing the words in between fake coughs.
I got up and pulled her into a hug. “You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met. And I love you for it.”
“Do you love me for my other parts, too?” she asked.