He still didn’t put her down. “Are you going to break up with me?”
“No, I just want to talk about something. Something personal.”
“Again?” he asked. He reluctantly put her down on her feet. “Where’s Molly?”
Sierra gave a whistle and the dog came running. “She was watering the bushes.”
“That’s good. If you dump me now we might have custody issues.”
“Why would I dump you? You’re almost perfect.”
“Almost?” he asked, teasing her.
“You have a really bad big-toe callus. It scratches sometimes.” She looked past him. “Are you cooking?”
“I’m making cookies. We have more camp kids tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed her neck. “You wanna talk, huh?”
“Yes,” she said, closing the door behind her. Molly ran straight to her water dish, always filled for her.
“Maybe we should do it first, so I can concentrate,” he said.
“Maybe we should get this over with so I can feel better. It’s very scary, revealing myself a little at a time like this, always worrying that you’re going to have overload and say, ‘that’s it—too much.’”
That made him smile. “You worry about that?”
“Of course! You know I’m happy. I know you’re happy. Let’s sit at the table.” She walked past him and pulled out a chair. “Wow, those cookies smell good.”
“I was going to bring you some tonight if you didn’t come over. Do you want some now?”
“No, right now I want to tell you a couple of things. Then you can think about what I’ve told you and decide if you really want to be in this...this...whatever this is. Relationship.”
He crossed his big arms over his chest. “We talk for hours, do it like bunnies, laugh our butts off, tell each other stories, bare our souls—it’s a relationship, Sierra. You are going to have to come to terms with that.”
“Well, that’s a fact. So, I told you—I’m an alcoholic. One of my steps is to list all the people I wronged because of my drinking and the list became very long because I was clearly out of control. I might not have admitted it at the time, but I was. I did some bad things.”
“I think you want to tell me what bad things so I can say, ‘okay—that’s in the past,’ then we can get on with things.”
“You think it’s just a big funny thing and it’s not. I had a real taste for one-night stands. I had no judgment—married men were not off-limits. I was impulsive and reckless. I borrowed a car without permission once—thank God it was only once—and hit a pole in a parking lot. I dented the bumper. I’d get two drinks in me and say any damn thing that came into my head.”
“Kind of like I do, but without alcohol assistance?”
“When you do it, it’s kind of cute,” she said. “I already made amends for a lot of my transgressions—all the drunk dialing, sexting, rumor spreading, character assassination, and I’m truly sorry and embarrassed. And you know I’m not ready to look too far into the future yet, but before we go any further, I have to tell you something important.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I can’t have children.”
His face took on a very pained expression. “Oh, Sierra, I’m sorry.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “What was it? Congenital? Something happened?”
“No. No. Nothing like that. Well, something like that, actually. There are the hereditary issues—my schizophrenic father. Then add addiction to that. Any child of mine would have the cards stacked against it. Both those conditions tend to run in families. I’ve decided I won’t be having children.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That must have been such a hard decision for you,” he finally said, his voice soothing.
“It was the obvious choice,” she said. “But I know how much you love kids.”
“I do like kids,” he said. “Did you think telling me this was going to change how I feel about you?”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.
He just looked at her for a long time. “Come here, Sierra,” he said, pulling on her hand. “Come on, come here.” He pulled on her until she got up from the table and came around to his side. He pushed back from the table and pulled her down to his lap. “Listen, we’re both going to bring some baggage to this, to us. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time, huh?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked with a laugh.
“Oh, I get it—you alcoholics think you’re the only ones who thought of that strategy,” he said. “It’s gotten us both through some of the hard stuff we’ve had to deal with. You’re not the only one with some burdens, okay? So, you’ve decided it’s better if you don’t have children. I get it. I’m not going to try to change your mind.”
“I know you want a family,” she said. “Before we spend one more day—”
“Sierra, up until I met you I wasn’t sure I’d ever even have another girlfriend. The last one kind of wrecked me and I’ll be the first to admit, I wasn’t exactly open to the idea. But then I met you. At first you scared me. You’re pretty confident. That’s a good thing, but it scares the boys.”
“Me? I have so little confidence!”
“Okay, then you have determination. You act like you don’t need anybody.”
“It’s true. I act like that,” she said. “It’s kind of a defense mechanism.”
“No, I just want to talk about something. Something personal.”
“Again?” he asked. He reluctantly put her down on her feet. “Where’s Molly?”
Sierra gave a whistle and the dog came running. “She was watering the bushes.”
“That’s good. If you dump me now we might have custody issues.”
“Why would I dump you? You’re almost perfect.”
“Almost?” he asked, teasing her.
“You have a really bad big-toe callus. It scratches sometimes.” She looked past him. “Are you cooking?”
“I’m making cookies. We have more camp kids tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed her neck. “You wanna talk, huh?”
“Yes,” she said, closing the door behind her. Molly ran straight to her water dish, always filled for her.
“Maybe we should do it first, so I can concentrate,” he said.
“Maybe we should get this over with so I can feel better. It’s very scary, revealing myself a little at a time like this, always worrying that you’re going to have overload and say, ‘that’s it—too much.’”
That made him smile. “You worry about that?”
“Of course! You know I’m happy. I know you’re happy. Let’s sit at the table.” She walked past him and pulled out a chair. “Wow, those cookies smell good.”
“I was going to bring you some tonight if you didn’t come over. Do you want some now?”
“No, right now I want to tell you a couple of things. Then you can think about what I’ve told you and decide if you really want to be in this...this...whatever this is. Relationship.”
He crossed his big arms over his chest. “We talk for hours, do it like bunnies, laugh our butts off, tell each other stories, bare our souls—it’s a relationship, Sierra. You are going to have to come to terms with that.”
“Well, that’s a fact. So, I told you—I’m an alcoholic. One of my steps is to list all the people I wronged because of my drinking and the list became very long because I was clearly out of control. I might not have admitted it at the time, but I was. I did some bad things.”
“I think you want to tell me what bad things so I can say, ‘okay—that’s in the past,’ then we can get on with things.”
“You think it’s just a big funny thing and it’s not. I had a real taste for one-night stands. I had no judgment—married men were not off-limits. I was impulsive and reckless. I borrowed a car without permission once—thank God it was only once—and hit a pole in a parking lot. I dented the bumper. I’d get two drinks in me and say any damn thing that came into my head.”
“Kind of like I do, but without alcohol assistance?”
“When you do it, it’s kind of cute,” she said. “I already made amends for a lot of my transgressions—all the drunk dialing, sexting, rumor spreading, character assassination, and I’m truly sorry and embarrassed. And you know I’m not ready to look too far into the future yet, but before we go any further, I have to tell you something important.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I can’t have children.”
His face took on a very pained expression. “Oh, Sierra, I’m sorry.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “What was it? Congenital? Something happened?”
“No. No. Nothing like that. Well, something like that, actually. There are the hereditary issues—my schizophrenic father. Then add addiction to that. Any child of mine would have the cards stacked against it. Both those conditions tend to run in families. I’ve decided I won’t be having children.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That must have been such a hard decision for you,” he finally said, his voice soothing.
“It was the obvious choice,” she said. “But I know how much you love kids.”
“I do like kids,” he said. “Did you think telling me this was going to change how I feel about you?”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.
He just looked at her for a long time. “Come here, Sierra,” he said, pulling on her hand. “Come on, come here.” He pulled on her until she got up from the table and came around to his side. He pushed back from the table and pulled her down to his lap. “Listen, we’re both going to bring some baggage to this, to us. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time, huh?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked with a laugh.
“Oh, I get it—you alcoholics think you’re the only ones who thought of that strategy,” he said. “It’s gotten us both through some of the hard stuff we’ve had to deal with. You’re not the only one with some burdens, okay? So, you’ve decided it’s better if you don’t have children. I get it. I’m not going to try to change your mind.”
“I know you want a family,” she said. “Before we spend one more day—”
“Sierra, up until I met you I wasn’t sure I’d ever even have another girlfriend. The last one kind of wrecked me and I’ll be the first to admit, I wasn’t exactly open to the idea. But then I met you. At first you scared me. You’re pretty confident. That’s a good thing, but it scares the boys.”
“Me? I have so little confidence!”
“Okay, then you have determination. You act like you don’t need anybody.”
“It’s true. I act like that,” she said. “It’s kind of a defense mechanism.”
