“What?” I pulled back looking at Chase clueless what he’s talking about now.
“The baby. We’ll name the baby, Winston.” He looked serious. Serious Chase scared the shit out of me.
I poked him hard in the chest and he grabbed my finger holding my hand.
“Don’t joke with me like that.” I reproached. I had a million irrational worries and fears and he was turning them all into a joke.
“You’ll wish I wasn’t.” He turned on the water and nudged me inside soaping me up and rubbing between my legs making me forget how weird the last the ten minutes had been.
“I’m not ready for this!” I cried and surprisingly big fat tears spilled from my eyes and I’m sure this is the moment where Chase discretely attempts to walk away pretending he’s never met me before. Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to me.
His arms circled around me pulling me in tight against his wet chest. Hands rub down my sides but I can’t calm myself down. “Win, tell me what’s wrong.”
I wanted to explain my irrational fears. It’s not that I’ve ruled out kids indefinitely. I just didn’t see why I had to have them physically. I hated doctors, needles, blood and everything else. Adoption, surrogacy… these were all options I could live with. I wasn’t in the headspace where I could imagine my body stretching to accommodate something that would simply feed and poop while it wailed at all hours of the night for the next eighteen years. I was a little selfish too. I liked me time and I wasn’t ready to give any of that up right now. Some people could have kids and think about those things later or not at all, I figured I was doing the world a favor by knowing ahead of time and saving everyone the trouble.
Instead, I probably said the more insensitive thing ever.
“It’s just that I have this favorite white cashmere sweater and all I can think of is baby vomit running down my shoulder and that I’ll have to smile and pretend I’m okay with it and wear a brooch to cover it up or something.”
“Okay, first of all, baby vomit is never okay and I’m never letting you hold my friend’s babies.”
“You hate me? You think I’m shallow and superfluous don’t you?” I can’t stop the rush of tears that I blame on the sudden surge of hormones I swear I have coursing through me.
“No.” He said.
“Be honest with me.”
“Win, I think you’re overreacting because you’re not ready. I’m not ready either, but babies are not the end of the world, okay?”
“Whaaaa!” Horrified and embarrassed, I sobbed louder. It’s the hormones. I blamed the hormones.
“Okay, maybe I just don’t want them thinking you’re crazy.” He patted my back and I pushed him away. “You’ll get over this.”
“Baby vomit on cashmere? Hardly. It doesn’t dry clean well. You can’t wear that like a badge of honor.”
“No, your aversion to kids, or maybe not. Look nobody said we were having one. I’d never really thought about it before. I just figured it was
something that would happen eventually when I hit my thirties.”
“How old are you?” I give him the business at the end of my finger poking him hard.
He put his hands up defensively. “Uhhh… don’t get upset.”
“Chase!” I don’t like where this is going.
“I may be in the thirty-year vicinity.” His voice raised an octave freaking me out.
My eyes narrowed taking in the slight marring of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that I thought were from him smiling all the time, or being outside in the sun, but might actually be from his age showing through. Oh God, maybe my Nanna in Shanghai could send her special face cream made from the powder of pearls and tiger bones. That stuff was the bomb. I didn’t want Chase aging before my eyes like some Benjamin Button.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Wait, is my age really a problem?” Nope, not one bit except he doesn’t answer me and I know Chase is older, heck he finished vet school, has a practice, and a real career while I’m floundering in fashionista hell. It’s not like I forgot we had an age difference between us and while it isn’t much, I have to admit I don’t have a lot of life experience to show for it besides avoiding a mugging on the subway and knowing the city grid by heart.
It’s far too sobering a thought for the moment.
“Arrrgh! I need to leave.”
“No, you need to finish this shower with me and then eat breakfast. You like the Market place?” Chase ignored me and went about being his bossy self.