Taking a deep breath, I watch Jett’s face go red as he grunts and groans. “Diaper change in about two minutes,” I say, smiling at him as he grins through his strain-face.
Facing Goldie, I come clean. “His age bothers me because I remember myself at twenty-six. I wanted to be amortician.” I lift my hands in the air and drop them fruitlessly. “And I went on to own apottery studiofor the last eight years. Those are twovastlydifferent things.”
She shrugs. “He’s a mechanic. He’s got that part figured out.”
I chew the inside of my lips. “I know. But is he sure he wants to be a mechanic forever? I mean, what if in two years he decides he wants to be a fucking sous chef in the city? He can want that. He can do that. Because he’s twenty-six.”
“Technically, in two years, he’d be twenty-eight.”
“Whatever,” I say, “the point is, he should be able to live while he’s young. Before he’s tied down.”
Now Goldie chews the inside of her mouth while she stares at me, eyes glazed. Finally, she says, “why do you get to decide the pacing of his life?”
“Excuse me?”
She straightens her legs, wiggling her feet as her ankles pop. “What if he wants to settle down and be committednow,and you’re just projecting all these fears and unrealized dreams onto him because that’s your own shit?”
“I,” I start, draping a hand over my chest, but I stop because… I need to think about that. Is that what I’m doing? Projecting my own fears onto him? “No,” I volley back. “That’s not it. Iamscared of falling in love and being crushed again, but I know what I want to do with my life. My unrealized dreams are all pertaining to…Dustyor, I guess, what Ithoughtme and Dusty were.”
“So you’re really worried that if he seriously likes you and you two spend time together that in two years he’ll wanna change his life, and that will mean leaving you?”
“That’s the thing,” I correct automatically. “Iamafraid of that, but not because I can’t handle it. I mean, it would suck but I could get through it.” I rise from the couch, swooping up Jett and taking him down the hall to his room. Goldie follows, sinking into the rocking chair in the corner as I lay Jett down. I begin changing his diaper, regaining focus on the conversation as my hands work the velcro straps and wipes from memory. I’ve done this by myself so many times.
“It’s that if he wants to go experience new things, I don’t want to hate him for that. But I would, Goldie because he wouldn’t just be leaving me. He’d be leavingJett, too.”
“Now Beau is leaving the two of you to be a sous chef. You realize you sabotaged the entire thing before it even became a thing.” She shakes her head. “If he decides he wants to be a sous chef or a surfer or even the freaking President of the United States, you two could stay together. Your argument is…dumb.”
Tossing the rolled up bomb into the garbage can, I begin fastening the fresh diaper.
“The sous chef thing is just a filler. An example. Don’t patronize me. You get where I’m coming from,” I say to Goldie as I finish the change and lower Jett back to the floor.
“It’s always going to be like that now though, Beck. Old, young, rich, tattooed, genius, toothless—whoever comes into your heart next will holdtwohearts, no matter who he is or what he does for a living. That’s the risk you’re always going to have to take. I think you just didn’t expect to be taking it so soon with someone younger.” Her soft voice is so understanding that her words send a ripple through my consciousness.
“I don’t want Jett to get hurt anymore.” I wipe away an unexpected tear as I smile at Goldie. “JackholeDustin.”
Goldie shakes her head. “Complete jackhole.” She shrugs. “But I’m not gonna lie. I think you should pursue Beau.”
“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head as I sink to the floor, diving wrist-deep into a basket of clean laundry waiting to be folded. “But I’m picking him up tomorrow morning for work.”
Goldie delves into the basket, folding burp cloths and making a stack next to her. “I don’t get it though,” she says, covering one yellow duck with another as she folds. “It must cost him a lot to have you drive him two times a day for… how long did you say?”
“Tomorrow is starting our third week,” I say, trying to do a quick mental tally for the cost. Each drive isn’t far, andWheel Get Youcharges by the mile, in addition to a drive-engage fee of $1. All in all, each ride is around fourteen dollars. “Twenty eight dollars a day,” I say aloud, still counting in my head as I do.
“Two-hundred and eighty dollars for the last two weeks. Just to get to and from work.” Her merlot-colored lips pucker as she lets out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of money for transportation for a mechanic.”
“We really have zero business speculating his income or how he spends his money.” Why do I feel defensive and protective over Beau? I’m currently talking to the only person that has watched a human being exit my vagina. I’m safe with her, and yet, I want to defend Beau.
“Maybe he’s a trust fund baby, anyway. Like working on cars just for funsies and is really secretly loaded.” She pops her gum, the noise making Jett jolt.
“Ba!” He yells, pointing at Goldie.
“Ba to you too, Jetty!” she smiles, pointing back at him.
“Didn’t I just say we shouldn’t speculate about his income?”
She grins mischievously. “Yousaid, but I politely declined.”
“I see that.”