by Jade West
She laughed, but it was nervous. “I know, I mean, that would be stupid. Six years, that’s crazy. That’s like… silly, right?”
I opened my eyes. Looked at her. “I want you to be in a relationship with us because you want to be in a relationship with us. I hope that lasts six years. I hope it lasts longer. I hope it lasts, Katie.”
She was quiet. So quiet.
“I want…” I fought for the right words. “I want us, all three of us… to work… I want.” I sighed.
“Just say it,” she said. “You always just say it, right? Why not now?”
Because of Rick.
Because you’ll run.
Because I don’t want you to run.
She shrugged. “How can I know what you’re offering if you won’t tell me? I can’t think straight if I don’t know what I’m thinking about! This is… it hurts my brain… I just can’t…”
“Just think about the yard,” I said. “Do you want it, or not?”
“But it’s not about the yard, is it? You want something from me. You’ve always wanted something from me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about your dream.”
“Tell me,” she insisted. “What’s your dream? What does happy mean? Just tell me, Carl!”
“A baby,” I said. “I want you to have my baby. That’s what happy means.” I sighed. “I dream about being a father.”
Her eyes widened. Like they always do. I kept talking. Like I always do.
“I’m forty in December, Katie. I’ll be a forty year old man in a gay relationship with no family in sight.” I sighed again. “I want what most people want. I want a home, I want a family, I want to watch a little person grow up, I want the school visits, and Christmas mornings, and family holidays. I want to watch kids TV until it drives me insane. I want to know the words to all the crappy cartoon songs.” I stared at the trees. “I want to be a dad. I want Rick to be a dad. That’s what I want. That’s my dream.”
“A baby in exchange for the yard? A couple of hundred grand for me to… breed for you?” I could hear the disgust in her voice, the undertone of horror, even though she tried to hide it.
I spun in my seat, met her eyes. “Christ, no! I’m not some fucking human trafficker trying to buy a fucking baby through Sugar Daddy Match Up. I’ve looked into surrogacy, we’ve looked into that. Actual surrogacy. We could do that. That isn’t this. This isn’t that.”
“So, what is this?”
“This is me saying I want a proper family. An actual family, for the long haul. I want to love someone who can love us, both of us. I want to pick out nursery wallpaper with the mother of my child, I want her to live with us, I want to hold her hand at the birth, I want to go to bed with her every night. I want to watch my baby grow up with her, with us.” I paused. “I want that someone to be you, Katie.”
“And you’ll buy me Jack’s yard if it is?”
I shook my head. “I’ll buy you Jack’s yard because it’s your dream, not because you’ll give me a baby in return.”
“But that’s the hope, right? We swap dreams? You buy me mine, I’ll give you yours?” Her eyes were piercing.
“No. That’s not how I see it. That’s not how I mean it.”
“But that’s how it is. You said a couple of years. That’s for what? Conception, pregnancy, birth… breastfeeding, I guess… then, what? It doesn’t work out? What’s your plan then? I leave the baby with you and Rick? Disappear? Or I end up stuck as a single mother? You swing by every weekend, maybe take it on holiday, buy it a new bike, whatever…”
“I really don’t have it planned out like that.”
“But you have everything planned out,” she said. “That’s who you are. You must know how the story goes, Carl. You must have known before you even met me. This is why they didn’t work out, right? The others? They didn’t want the baby thing, just the sex?”
“Amongst other things.” I stared at her. “They didn’t work out because they weren’t right.”
“But I am?”
“I hope so.” I smiled, but she didn’t smile back. “Katie, you turned up and you were everything we’d hoped for. More than we hoped for. More than I hoped for. Maybe with the others… maybe I was more…” I shrugged. “One track minded. Maybe it was less about them and more about the dream… maybe I wanted it beyond all other things. Maybe I wanted it so much it consumed me. Maybe that scared them.”
“And this time?”
Please believe me. “This time it’s about you. Us. This time it’s about your dreams, what you want, what will make you happy. I’ll buy you the yard because I can, because it’s what you want. Because I want a future, with you and Rick. Because you’re important.”
Her lip trembled. “But I don’t want a baby, Carl. I don’t think I can give you that. I’ve never wanted a baby.”
“I know,” I said, and smiled. “We saw. On your Facebook profile. Some stupid quiz, how many kids will you end up with? Katie Smith, none. Thank fuck for that, you said. I never ever want kids, you said. Horses over babies, always, you said. Rick showed me, printed it out.”
“And that’s how I feel.”
I swallowed, throat tight. “That could change…”
She shook her head. “I want a riding school, I want to ride, I want to event. I can’t do that with a baby. Unless… unless you’re talking ten years away… I just don’t know…”
But I wasn’t talking ten years away. I wasn’t talking about being a dad approaching retirement age while his kid is still in nappies.
It must have shown all over my face.
Her eyes were so big. “You really wanted this straight away, didn’t you? That’s what you wanted?” She sighed. “Oh God, you want it now. When were you going to tell me?”
“Six months,” I said honestly. “Rick and I agreed six months, until you knew us, until you stood a chance of knowing what you wanted.”
“I want what I always wanted,” she said. “A yard, a riding school, time with Samson…”
“And that’s it?”
“No,” she said. “I love being with you guys. I think about it sometimes, when I’m alone. How this could work, whether it could work. Whether I could be with two men. Properly, I mean.”
“And what was your conclusion?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. You want a baby. That’s what you want, Carl, don’t pretend it isn’t.”
“I want you and Rick,” I said. “I want you to be happy. I want us to be a family.”
“With a baby, Carl. With a baby. That’s what you need to make you happy.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
She leaned forward in her seat. “This is all too much. The yard… all this work stuff… my dad, Verity… you and Rick… a baby… it’s too much to think about.“
“I didn’t mean to force this on you right now,” I said. “I just wanted to buy you the yard, that’s all I wanted.”
“I couldn’t take the yard. Not unless I could give you what you wanted in return. Maybe not even then.”
“This has nothing to do with what I want. It has everything to do with how I feel about you.” I reached out a hand, but she flinched as it landed. “We both adore you, Katie. We think you’re incredible. Kind, and beautiful, and funny. Smart.”
“Please stop…” she said. “I just can’t…” She rubbed her temples. “I need to think this through. I’m upset about the yard, upset for Jack. I just need some space.”
Space.
“I can give you space,” I said. “Let’s go home. I won’t mention it again, any of it. You can think. We can watch some movies, eat, get an early night… whatever you want.”
She shook her head. “Space, Carl. I just need my own bed. I need to talk to my mum. Probably cry a bit, get it out of my system. You know?”
I knew. Of course I knew.
I made myself smile. “Sure. I’ll take you home.”
I drove i
n silence and my heart was thumping. So many words I wanted to say, but I’d already said too much. Way too fucking much.
I pictured Rick, waiting at home, waiting for us. He’d be excited, ready to congratulate Katie on an awesome week, and I’d show up alone.
Because I’d blown it. Again.
Because she needed space.
Because, no matter what I said, she was equating my offer of a yard with the need to give me a baby. She was adding it up, working it out, wondering how often I looked at her and saw a womb for sale.
And the answer was I didn’t. Not at all.
Not anymore.
We were outside hers so quickly.
“I could pick you up in the morning,” I said. “Your car is at ours…”
She shook her head. “I can get a lift with Mum to the yard. I can sort out the car later.”
She didn’t unclip her seatbelt, and I almost wished she would, just to get this over with.
“I’m sorry, Carl.”
They always are. Maybe they can see the desperation. Maybe that’s why they’re always so sorry.
“The offer of the yard still stands,” I said. “You could rent it from me, just like you would Jack. That’s what I was thinking. That’s all I was thinking.”
She leaned over and kissed my cheek, and her eyes were wet. “You’re so much nicer than I ever thought you would be.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”
She smiled. “It is.”
“The same applies,” I said.
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Your offer was very generous.”
But you don’t want it.
“Goodbye, Katie,” I said.
She unclipped her seatbelt. Opened the door.
“Bye, Carl.”
My heart fucking pained as she walked away. Pain and fear and panic at the thought of Rick’s face as I walked through the door alone. His face as his calls rang to her voicemail, all because I’d spoken too soon.
Because he was right. He always is.
It was way too fucking soon.
I took a breath. Closed my eyes. Waited for my heart to stop fucking pounding.
She was staring at me as I opened them. Her face to the driver’s window. It made me jump.
She tapped on the window and I lowered it.
“You said goodbye. Not bye, or see you, or catch you later. You said goodbye.”
“Isn’t it?”
She pulled a face. “Do you want it to be? Is that how you work? No baby, no more Carl or Rick?”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
“Then it isn’t goodbye,” she said, and once again my blue-eyed girl surprised me. “I said I needed my own bed, to talk to my mum, maybe cry a bit. That’s exactly what I meant.”
“I hope so, Katie.”
She ran a finger down my cheek. “You’re quite a sensitive guy under that scary hot exterior, Carl Brooks.”
“Is that a compliment, too?”
“It is,” she said. “This isn’t goodbye, it’s see you later.”
I put the car in gear, forced a smile.
“Then I’ll be seeing you later, Katie.”
“Yes,” she said. “You will.”
I tried to hold on to her smile, cling tight to her see you later, but I’d been here too many times before. Every time I’d convince myself I wasn’t gutted inside, that I wasn’t feeling the clock ticking against my dream, that I wasn’t aching at the thought that it might never happen for me.
But I couldn’t convince myself this time.
She’d been right there, the one for us. I’d seen it in her smile. I’d heard it in her laugh. The way she’d fit so easily between us, so snug, so there. The way my heart raced when she called my name. The way her fingers felt for mine when no one was looking. The way I was so proud of her. So fucking proud.
Those moments I was deep inside her and wanted to stay there, with Rick, both of us together. Fill her up with my baby, our baby, and watch her grow big and beautiful, swollen and glowing with the new life inside her belly.
The way I looked into her eyes and saw a future. A future for all three of us, and the baby we could make together.
And I’d blown it. No matter what she said now, I’d truly blown it.
She’d be running scared, and who could blame her? What kind of desperate weirdo throws a few hundred grand at a young woman half his age and practically begs her to have his baby?
That’s how she’d see it, no matter what I said. Desperate. That’s how she’d see me. Because I was. I was desperate.
And it hurt so much more for loving her. For wanting her baby, not just a baby. Katie wasn’t just a womb, wasn’t just a pretty face and a smile. She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t just a Never mind, Carl, we’ll try again, Carl. Just don’t fuck it up next time, Carl. There’s someone out there for us, Carl. We just have to find her, Carl. Keep your cool, Carl. Trust me, Carl, she’s out there. She’s fucking out there.
Keep my fucking cool?
We’d found her. And I’d lost her.
I’d fucking lost her.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, and kept my attention on the road. I felt sick as I drew closer to Cheltenham, the prospect of telling Rick rolling around my gut. The sky turned grey and heavy, the road dull as it stretched ahead. And I stank, of horse and hay and the bitter stench of failure.
I took a breath as I parked up on our driveway, fumbling in my briefcase to delay the moment I’d have to step inside. I took another long breath as I turned the key in the front door, bracing myself for the inevitable.
Rick was already waiting. He was still suited and booted from his client meeting, his hair slick and trendy and his smile bright. A bright purple tie over a pale pink shirt. Matching purple brogues. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand and a balloon on a string in the other. The string was bright pink, the balloon a huge daisy. Well done it said on one side. Good job on the other. It twisted and bobbed against the ceiling, taunting me with the irony.
Rick glanced behind me, eyes sparkling, waiting. His smile dropped as I kicked the door shut.
“Where’s our pretty lady?” he said. “I thought we were celebrating?”
I dropped my keys on the side. “She, um.” I couldn’t look at him. “She had bad news, about the yard.”
He took a step forward, I could feel his eyes burning. “Shit! What bad news? Is she ok?”
“Yard is up for sale, bank repossession, or close to.” I slipped off my jacket, hung it over the bottom of the stairs, fiddled with my cufflinks.
“So she can’t rent it from Jack anymore? Bummer. That fucking stinks, man.” He shook his head. “Talk about a shit end to the day. I bet she’s fucking gutted.”
The thought hit my belly, and it hit hard. “She was upset.”
Rick paced a bit, dropped the champagne next to my keys. His hand was on his forehead, rubbing. “She should have come home with you, we could’ve talked about it, worked something out. There must be something we can do.” He stared at me. “Maybe we could talk to the bank? With Jack, I mean. Find out what’s owing. Back Katie up with the rent money, let the bank know he has the cash coming in to clear some debt. That could work, right? It’s worth a shot.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Is she still with Jack? I’ll call her, tell her to come home.”
He’d pressed the call button before he registered the truth. His phone to his ear before his eyes met mine and stayed there.
“Except she’s not there, is she? You’d never just leave her there…” He cancelled the call, walked past me, opened the door. “Her car’s still here. Why would she stay at the yard without a car, Carl? What’s going on?”
I braced myself. “She needed space…”
And he knew. He fucking knew.
“What did you do?”
“She was upset. I tried to help.”
He let go of the balloon, I heard it bop against the ceiling. “Help?”
I walked through to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of red. He followed me, hands open wide, demanding.
I poured a glass, downed it in one. “I offered to buy the yard.”
“You what?!”
“I offered to buy the yard, for her.”
“How much?”
“Couple of big ones.”
He shook his head. “Big ones? What the fuck does that even mean?”
I took a breath. “Couple of hundred grand.”
His eyes were wide. “You offered to spend a couple of hundred grand on a riding yard? Just like that? Fucking hell, Carl. And what did she say to that?”
I shrugged. “She said no, said it was too much. Said it was crazy. She didn’t understand why I’d offer, wanted to know why.”
“No fucking shit. And what did you say?”
I didn’t answer.
“Please tell me you didn’t. Not like that. Not when her dreams have gone to shit and there’s an offer of a crazy fucking bankroll swaying over her head. Please tell me you didn’t fucking do that, Carl.”
I had no words. I refilled my glass.
His face turned pale, a hand over his mouth, pacing back and forth. “You told her, didn’t you? Fucking hell, Carl, you fucking told her.”
“She wanted to know why. She wanted to know what I wanted. She wanted to know, Rick.”
“And so you just told her. Great. That’s fucking great.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was. “I should have waited. I should have given it more time.”
He slammed his palm on the island. “Too fucking right you should have waited, Carl! Too fucking right!” He let out a sigh that sounded more like a wail. “We had it good, Carl. She was good. She was amazing. She was everything we fucking wanted, everything I fucking wanted.” He clenched his fists against the marble. “I fucking love her, Carl.”
There were tears in his eyes and an ache in my stomach, a horrible pitiful pang of regret. “So do I.”
He shook his head, eyes closed. “Tell me everything. Every fucking thing you said.”
And so I did. I told him everything.
Rick listened and shook his head all the way through my sorry recap. His face said it all, reinforced what I already knew. I’d fucking blown it.