It’s almost midnight, and I’m still wide awake. I’m so fucked. I am in love with Amelia Bishop. I’m also pretty sure she’s in love with me. I should be fucking ecstatic; instead it’s hard not to run fast and far from her. At first glance we’re nothing alike. I’m a jock, she’s an intellectual, she’s money, I grew up poor, she’s concerned about what people think about her, I couldn’t give a fuck, and as always, she’s the good girl and I’m a bad boy.
Only once you look deeper, we have much more in common than people would expect. Even though she grew up with two parents and I grew up with one, we both had shitty childhoods and know what it is to carry scars. We both love to read, but that’s the part that’s keeping me from sleeping.
As I said this morning, I ducked into a book to escape, to learn something new, to laugh, for the moment. Amelia climbed into the books and lived through them, refusing to experience the world for herself. Through books she kept the real world at a distance.
Fuck, I get it. The constant picking away at who she was by her parents as they tried to mold her into something they deemed suitable while constantly comparing her to her brother sounds like hell on earth. She didn’t believe she was beautiful even though she wanted to, due to the years of her mother telling her she wasn’t. Her sexual partners hadn’t taken the time to fuck not just her body, but her mind, to make her feel desired, sexy. Instead they used her, taking what they wanted.
Twice now, I thought I’d found the woman I wanted to spend my life with. Now, comparing what I felt for them to what I feel for Amelia, it’s the difference between a summer day in Antarctica and a summer day in Texas. The thought of losing her, of her
not being here with me in my bed tomorrow or twenty years from now, has me breaking into a cold sweat.
But, what if she isn’t prepared, ready, and willing to live life outside of books? What if we have trouble conceiving? I’ve watched marriages fall apart over it. I’m okay with adoption; would she be? Kids aren’t easy even if they’re healthy. What if one of our girls is born with some sort of defect, or autism or something that requires more effort? Will Amelia be able to be present every day, not just for our kid but for me too?
I’m completely willing and love taking care of Amelia, from making her breakfast, to making sure she knows she’s loved, but I need something back in return. I’ll take sex, for now, but I want her to show her love and affection in ways other than sex. While she loves making love, what about once the newness of having an orgasm wears off?
Growing up, I started reading because my home was littered with books—they were everywhere. My mom lay in bed or on the couch all day long and read. My grandfather bought her a duplex so she could live in one side and maintain an income from leasing out the other side, it was supposed to be a part of a deal for my mother to never see my father again, but it didn’t work.
Since my mom didn’t have to work, she didn’t. She just lay around the house reading, stumbling off to a bar at night when she didn’t have any good books to keep her company.
I was an afterthought. I had to depend on my aunt to get my mom to the grocery store for there to be food in the house. I don’t want to live that life again, no matter how much I love Amelia.
While I’m pretty sure she would never be as bad as my mom, the resemblance to the way they handle the real world when things get hard spooks me.
18
Amelia
My cell phone goes off at work. I answer without thinking. “Hello?”
“Amelia, I can’t believe you’ve just left me hanging out here with no updates. You haven’t even called or come by, we got back two days ago.”
I cringe, Holly and Ethan had gone away again after the check-in with the OB/GYN. They hadn’t gone back to France, instead they went to Hawaii. Ethan was glowing when he came in to work yesterday. “Well, consider it tit for tat for keeping everyone in the dark on whether you are having a boy or a girl. I could be doing so much shopping.”
“Whatever, I have no doubt Ethan’s going to slip up before the baby comes he’s so excited. I need to know, I need details. Two weeks you’ve been living at his place. We need to catch up, lunch today?”
She’s right, and I want to, but I don’t want to miss lunch with Chris. “I do really, it’s just Chris and I usually have lunch together.”
“Ah, how adorable. Tough. You also live together and see each other every night, one lunch won’t kill you. And you owe me big time. I expect to see you at Giorgio’s at twelve thirty on the dot.”
“Fine.” She already hung up. I sigh as I call Chris.
“Hey, sugar, what’s up?”
“Holly is commandeering my lunch today. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I do feel like I owe Holly more than just lunch. I’m going to be at the building all day today, keeping an eye on the demolition to ensure they don’t get carried away. I’ll see you tonight at six thirty.”
“Okay, six thirty.” I swallow the words. It wasn’t easy, not telling him a dozen times a day I love him. Maybe it is a good thing I’ll be seeing Holly for lunch, she can tell me how to not screw this up. I shoot Mary an email about my lunch, then go back to the contract I was reading before Holly called.
When I get to Giorgio’s I’m told I’m the first to arrive. They show me to a table in the back, per Holly’s request. She’s so sneaky. I’m just getting settled when she walks in. “Oh my god, you have a baby in your belly.” I’m shocked by how large she is. Holly laughs as she opens her arms for a hug. I hug her tight. “Can I please touch your belly?”
She takes my hand and presses it against her stomach. Even through the thick sweater she’s wearing I feel a kick to my hand. “The baby has been doing this all freaking morning, and I do mean morning, it started around four in the morning. The little bugger is nocturnal or something. Thank you for asking before feeling me up. It’s insane how people think your body is public property and they can just touch you because you’re pregnant.”
“Naomi, one of the lawyers, said the same thing. Then people asked all kinds of personal questions like if she and her husband were still having sex and if she planned on breastfeeding, then got all militant about how breast was best. I cannot imagine.”
“But you want to. I haven’t seen you look this wistful since we saw Daniel Craig at Goldfinches once.”
“Yes, then there are times I get worried about what comes after. I’m worried I’ll be just a mom. The idea of not using my degrees I worked so hard for seems wrong.”