Page 99 of Knights Like These
The Question
Archer
She’s been weird all day.
I noticed it at breakfast when she put kombucha in Lily’s sippy cup instead of apple juice and didn’t laugh when Lily made a face. I caught it again at lunch when I asked about the senior center recital; she gave me a one-word answer and quickly changed the subject before I could press further.
Now she’s chewing her thumbnail in the passenger seat, a habit she only has when she’s anxious about something.
I let her have silence for the first half of the drive, but by the time we hit the bridge, I can’t hold back any longer.
“Syd.”
“Hmm.”
“You good?”
“Yeah, of course.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and turns to look out the window. “Why?”
“You’ve been chewing your thumb since Atlantic.”
Her hand drops into her lap as if I caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. “I wasn’t chewing my thumb.”
“You were chewing your thumb, honey.”
“Fine. I was.” She looks perfectly normal—gorgeous, even—in her pale blue sundress, her hair down.
I glance at her again. She’s still nervous about something.
“Okay,” I say, but I don’t believe her.
I park outside the Italian bistro but make no move to get out. I turn off the engine and face her. “Syd, honey. Talk to me, okay?”
“Now? Shouldn’t we go inside?” She motions toward the restaurant.
I lean against the window across from her and wait, something stirring in my gut.
“Okay.” She releases a long, slow exhale. “I’m going to say it. And I want you to let me get all the way through it before you say anything. Deal?”
“Deal.”
She takes a breath. Her shoulders go up, then come down. The silence in the cab of the SUV is deafening.
“I want a baby.”
Wait.What?
“I want a baby, Arch, and I know—Iknow—that this is a lot. We have the twins. Your life is full. We’ve barely begun this relationship, and I’m not asking for anything right now, I’m not putting a clock on you, I just—” Her thumb goes back to her mouth. She catches herself and folds her hand into her opposite palm, pinning it down. “I’ve been thinking about it since Lily accidentally called me Mommy, and I’ve been trying not to think about it because I didn’t want to be—I don’t know. Pushy. Presumptuous. Like I was trying to—” She blows out a breath. “But I can’t really continue this relationship if we’re not on the same page. And yeah, maybe the twins are enough. But maybe they’re not, you know? I’ve always wanted a baby of my own and—”
“Syd.”
“Let me finish.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay.”
“I’m thirty. I love you. I love your kids. I want one with you—eventually, someday, on whatever timeline you’re okay with—and I know you probably don’t, and I know—I know what you said. After the twins. About the—”
She stops. Her face flushes. She won’t say the word.
