by Lara Swann
“Yeah, I know, but…”
“They wouldn’t approve of me either?” He guesses, and I squirm a little, but he doesn’t sound offended by it. If anything, he gives me a slightly sardonic glance, smirking a little. “It’s the bike, isn’t it?”
The comment is so unexpected that it makes me burst out laughing - a welcome relief from some of the tension I feel when talking about my parents like this.
“Yeah, the bike.” I say, grinning back. “I’m sure they could overlook everything else, if only you could get rid of that motorcycle habit you have.”
“Everything else?” He asks, still smirking at me.
“Yeah, they really…care way too much about appearances, all that stuff.” I roll my eyes, starting to enjoy talking about it casually like this - being this open with my frustrations, with the way I see things. Even when I try to talk to Nat, I can’t get half a sentence out without his opinions jumping all over me. “I mean, growing up around East Madison Street, on the rough side of town, coming from a broken home, all—”
“Broken home?” He repeats, his brows shooting up into his hairline. “Is that how you see it?”
“Oh—oh, shoot—no—I didn’t mean it like that.” I stammer, my hands shooting up to cover my mouth in horror.
Oh, God help me, what did I just say?
I’m suddenly aware of just how bad that sounded and I curl into myself in mortification. I’d never thought of it like that - what it meant - I’ve just heard my parents talk about it so many times I said it without thinking.
Broken home, no family values, can’t trust people with those backgrounds.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t at all—”
He laughs as I’m trying to apologize and it’s enough to make me pause, momentarily confused as he turns to face me.
His eyes are still sparkling, enough that I think I might not have offended him too badly - in fact, I’m starting to wonder whether he gets offended by anything - and he’s got a disbelieving-amused look written all over his face.
“Chloe, the best thing that ever happened to me was when my home broke.” He says, shaking his head. “I spent years wishing Mom would just leave - she didn’t deserve the way he treated her - and when she finally did…everything changed. The tension was gone. The arguments. The anger. She could finally be herself again.”
I bite my lip as I listen, feeling terrible for ever saying such a thing - and awful for him, too.
“I’m sorry, Ash, really, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t be.” He shrugs, easily enough.
“It’s not what I think, though.” I persist. For some reason it’s important to me that he knows that, even if he doesn’t seem to mind about the way I said it. Whatever beliefs my parents might have, and however I was raised…I’m not them. I can make my own mind up about things, and that’s exactly what I decided to do a long time ago. “I don’t think of you that way - or anyone - it’s just a stupid phrase my parents say sometimes. They’re kind of…traditional.”
“I’m getting that impression.” He says wryly. “Religious types, right?”
“Yeah.” I chew on my lip, wondering about that - about what he thinks. I might not be as strict as my parents, but my faith is still important to me. “Do you…I guess you don’t believe in God?”
“I’ve never really thought about it.” He tilts his head towards me, shrugging. “Don’t think it really matters either way.”
I blink, not expecting that at all.
“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”
“Well, the way I see it, if there really is an all-knowing, all-powerful being that created everything…I can’t imagine it would be very interested in any of us. Surely something like that would have better things to focus on?”
I twist around, shifting slightly so I’m sitting side-on instead of leaning against him, just to see him better as I stare, a purely shocked laugh threatening to bubble up from somewhere inside me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite so…irreverent. I’ve had debates about God’s existence before - but they’ve always been so…serious.
“What?” He asks, smirking at me in that way he has, and I do laugh, just a little, as I nudge him.
“All-loving, too.” I point out. “God is all-loving as well - so he does care.”
“Uhuh.” Ash says, sounding unconvinced. “Maybe that’s the part I don’t believe in. An all-knowing being would surely know better than that.”
I roll my eyes at him, but I’m enjoying the slight bemusement I feel too. There’s something about Ash…the way he sees everything, the things he says…it makes me look at things in another way. It’s different and new - and I get a little thrill from never being able to predict what he’s going to say next.
“You believe, though, in all of it?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, and that gives me a moment of relief.
I don’t think I mind his slightly outlandish views on this whole thing - but I’m not sure how I’d feel if I thought he was judging me for mine.
“Yeah.” I nod, my hand rising to my necklace instinctively. “I believe in God. I just…well, I guess I’d hope that he’s not quite as judgmental as Mom and Dad seem to think.”
That makes Ash smile, and he reaches over to squeeze my leg.
“Well, if you believe in the all-loving thing, then that sounds about right.”
I smile back, feeling strangely pleased. I’ve never voiced that thought out loud before, and having Ash support me like that…even though he doesn’t believe in any of it himself…it’s a weird feeling. But it’s nice.
His gaze flicks down to my stomach and he cocks his head.
“What about our child, then?” He continues. “Would you want to raise them with all that…stuff?”
I blink, not expecting that either. I haven’t even thought about it, and it feels like that’s a question that should be fraught with…all sorts of things…but it doesn’t feel that way.
My hand goes to my stomach instinctively as I take the time to consider, not used to this kind of open discussion - where it feels like Ash really wants to know what I think, like he’s really listening.
“I guess…I’d want to show them it all. Talk to them about what I believe - take them to church, let them see my faith. But…” I say slowly, working my thoughts out as I speak them. “I’d want it to be their choice - they should have the chance to decide for themselves, to believe what they believe.”
“Yeah?” He asks, his eyes warming as he looks at me.
“Yeah.” I nod, the conviction growing the longer I think about it. “I’ve been told what I should think my whole life. I don’t want that for my kid.”
“Me neither.” He says, smiling openly at me and reaching over to squeeze my hand. “That all sounds good by me.”
I meet his gaze, warmth flooding through me, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt quite like this before - quite so supported.
Ash reaches around for the bag and pulls out the brownies, handing one to me as I’m still trying to get over the idea that it can all be quite that simple. Our conversation drifts into other things - less momentous - as we finish the rest of the picnic, but I’m still half-staring at Ash in wonder throughout.
I’m not entirely sure how this happened, but I couldn’t imagine this unlikely partnership going any better. We’re getting on, everything is so easy to talk about and the thought of raising this kid together is just exciting.
I might not quite know what’s going on between the two of us, but I’m not thinking about that too much.
So far, the idea co-parenting this baby is working out better than I’d ever expected, and that’s what’s important here.
Chapter Twelve
Chloe
“So, you’re dating him now?”
“No!” I say, laughing slightly and shaking my head. “It isn’t like that—”
“That’s exactly what it sounds like.” Nathan says, in his usual candid manner. “You sne
ak out to see him every chance you get, you’re have sex and he’s all you can talk about.”
I feel myself reddening a little, but I continue shaking my head.
“No, that’s not it. It’s just—about the baby—”
I don’t answer the sex part. That’s not quite about the baby, but that still isn’t why I’m seeing him. It’s just an added bonus - that will last as long as it does.
“Wouldn’t it be more convenient if you were, anyway?” He asks, his whole attitude to this way more casual than mine as he takes another bite of his crab cake burger. “I mean, you are having a baby together.”
We’re sat in our usual booth, at the usual restaurant for our Thursday night crab cakes and cocktails catch up. Only this time, I’ve got a sad, solitary virgin mojito in front of me instead of my usual pair of Bee’s Knees. Turns out, virgin cocktails aren’t included in their two-for-one offer, and even though it’s been weeks of this now, I still miss the alcohol.
“Well, no…” I say, shaking my head again. “It’s more important we get on, Nat—”
“You seem to.” He interrupts, which I ignore.
“If we had the pressure of making a relationship or something work, on top of the pressure of suddenly raising a baby together…it’s just too much. It could all fall apart.” I say, repeating the line I’ve told myself a dozen times now. The whole reason Ash and I have distinctly avoided talking about exactly what’s going on between us - and I’m okay with that. I really am. “It’s not worth the risk. The baby is more important.”
Nat looks more dubious about it, but I continue anyway, shrugging.
“I’m not sure he’s the kind of guy who’d want to settle down like that anyway, Nat.”
“But you’re still having sex.”
“That’s not the same as a whole relationship. It’s just…nice…” I say, unable to help the slight smile that plays around my lips as I think of it.
It’s more than nice.
“Okay…and if he wants to start sleeping with someone else?” Nat says, his gaze narrowing as he looks at me. “What then?”
My stomach lurches slightly at that idea, but I ignore it, shrugging off the feeling.
“Then…so long as he still wants to be an active part of our baby’s life…then okay.” I say, knowing the words are right even if they’re a little hard to say. “That’s up to him.”
Nathan is looking more and more unconvinced as we speak - and okay, I get it, maybe that would be a little hard to deal with, but Ash doesn’t owe me anything. We’re not dating, quite deliberately.
“Would you still sleep with him too?” He asks and my gaze jerks to his in surprise, more than a little outraged.
“No, of course not!” I scowl. “What exactly do you think—”
“I just wanted to check.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “I wanted to see how far this newly liberal, generous mindset of yours was going to stretch.”
I frown, shoving the burger in my mouth to give me something to chew on instead of replying.
“Look.” I finally say. “Okay, I get it, it might not be as easy to deal with in reality as it is to talk about it right now - but really, Nat, that’s still how I plan to approach those things. The most important thing for both of us right now is this baby - and I’m not going to jeopardize all that by expecting too much from Ash.”
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, is this arrangement just for his benefit, or do you see yourself settling down with someone else, too? Looking for another guy to date—”
“Nathan.” I say, putting a bit more force into the word. “I’m pregnant. I’ve got a baby on the way. I’ve got a million things to think about right now - a relationship really isn’t one of them. This arrangement, as you put it, isn’t for anyone’s benefit in particular. We’re both getting to know each other and happy not thinking about much more than how to raise this baby, okay?”
The idea of thinking about any of that…it’s just ridiculous. I can’t imagine any of that at all. I don’t even want to.
Nathan sighs, then takes a long drink of beer.
“Okay, Chloe, whatever you say.” He gives me a little shrug. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
I finally sigh too. “I know…but…it’s okay, really. It’s better than okay. I couldn’t have imagined this possibly going better than it has so far.”
What he said about dating flashes back into my mind briefly, but I ignore it. Of all the realistic outcomes, this is better than anything I could have hoped for.
“Well, I’m glad.” He gives me a small smile, and I take another sip of my mojito. “Really, you do seem so much happier these days, Chloe.”
I smile back, the feeling rising in me as he points it out.
“Yeah. I am. Really, I couldn’t have believed having a baby…especially one I wouldn’t have ever planned this way…that it could all feel quite so good. It finally feels like I have a purpose to my life - a direction - something that’s mine.”
“You always had your art.” Nathan points out, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, I know, but this…well, this is definitely going to happen. I don’t know what’s going to happen with the art—but nothing is going to stop me becoming a Mom.”
“That’s true.” He smiles at me, then pauses. “I’m guessing you still haven’t told your parents, then?”
“No.” I say, slightly morosely as the reminder dampens those good feelings just a little bit. “I think that’s part of it, too. For the moment, this is all mine - just mine and Ash’s - and we’re doing it together. As soon as my parents find out, I’m not sure—well, I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen. I don’t want to lose that - those discussions with Ash, the ideas we have that are just ours—”
It feels mean, but I’m so reluctant for my parents to start getting involved in any of that. Those discussions are part of the reason I feel so happy about all this - and part of the reason it feels like mine. I’m getting to share my opinion, to discuss our joint opinions about how we’re going to do things, and I don’t remember ever having this much choice or control over anything in my life.
It’s scary, sure, we’re talking about a child’s life here, and I don’t want to mess that up - but for the first time ever, I’m starting to feel confident that I won’t mess it up. That it will work out okay, just based on my own choices and decisions.
Ash makes me feel that way - and I don’t want to give that up, not for anything. I just don’t know how I’m going to tell my parents without everything changing.
“I get that.” Nathan says softly. “But you’re going to need their support, aren’t you?”
I swallow slightly, the knot in my stomach twisting. “Yes - yeah, I do.”
I’m already worried about the finances and the insurance and just how I’m going to manage with it all—and I haven’t even started wondering what it will be like to raise a child in my parents’ house. I’m not sure I want to think about any of that yet. Everything Ash and I talk about…it’s so idealistic, it feels so right, but I just…don’t know how it’s going to work, in that environment.
“Well, it will work itself out.” Nathan says, reaching over to squeeze my hand and trying to reassure me. I’m not sure how much he believes it, though. He’s heard enough stories about my parents. “It’s their grandchild, after all, they’re going to want what’s best for it even if you don’t always see eye-to-eye.”
“Yeah…yeah, they will.”
I just worry that their idea of what’s best and my idea might not be quite the same thing.
“And they did let you start that course in the end.” He points out, trying to be helpful. “Maybe they’re softening up a bit.”
I smile briefly at that, trying to hold onto the idea. Maybe it won’t be so hard to talk to them. Maybe it will be okay.
It’s just that in talking to Ash, I think I’m finall
y starting to realize how hard it is to have a real conversation with my parents - the low-lying tension and knot in my stomach that happens every time I think about discussing anything real with them - and just how different that is to how it could be.
But maybe I’m being unfair. Nathan is right - this is their grandchild - and I’ve dealt with it well so far. I’m not panicking anymore. I don’t need to approach them as a scared kid wondering what on earth I’m going to do. I can talk to them as a reasonable adult - and now that I’m pregnant, and I’m having a kid of my own, maybe they’ll finally respect me that way too.
“How’s that going, anyway?” Nathan asks and I know he’s changing the subject for my benefit, but I’m relieved about it anyway. “Is it everything you thought it would be?”
“Yeah.” I say, smiling again as I think about it. “It’s going really well - I feel like I’m learning so much. I’ve had so many opportunities to ask questions, to improve what I’m working on - it’s amazing, really, and the instructors know so much. Not just about techniques, but about the whole world - what you have to do to produce an exhibition-worthy piece of work, the things galleries are looking for…all of it.”
I know I sound totally over-eager and enthusiastic when I speak about it, but I can’t help that. It’s everything I was hoping for - and those few hours when I get to attend and work on my craft are the highlight of my week. Well, that and whenever I manage to find an excuse to see Ash. Between the two, my life just seems to be getting better and better.
“Wow. Maybe I should think about one of these things…”
“I’d definitely recommend it.” I grin. “The only thing I’m struggling with at the moment is working out what my final piece is going to be - the one that will go into the exhibition they’re holding. It’s just—it feels like so much pressure to get it right—and I really can’t decide—”
“What do they think?” He asks. “Surely they’ve seen some of your work - has anything stood out?”