Page 80 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“Of course. A good dog would allow it. And I’ll scold my daughter for painting the dog’s nails. It’ll be a funny story I tell my husband when he gets home from work.”

“You want kids,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

“At least one.” She was turning her wine glass in her hands, watching the light move through the red liquid. “Maybe more. I’ll know after the first one if I want to go for round two. The first one might drive me crazy. Although I’ve always heard the first one is easy and lulls you into thinking parenting isn’t so hard so you go for that second. The second one is going to rock your world so you think the third one will balance things out.”

I glanced down at the ring catching the light. The fake engagement ring. She hadn’t taken it off. I watched her thumb move over it absently, like she’d forgotten it was there, like it had already become part of her.

“What about you?” she asked. “Kids?”

“I haven’t thought about it much.”

“Liar.”

I looked up. She was smiling at me, knowing and a little bit sad.

“Maybe a liar,” I conceded.

“You’d be a good dad.”

That stopped me. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” She said it simply, like it was obvious. “You’re patient. You’re protective. You care about people even when you pretend you don’t.” She paused. “You held a baby and didn’t immediately hand it off to the nearest woman.”

“That was Kent’s daughter.”

“Still counts. And you’re the oldest in a huge family. You’ve basically been parenting your whole life. I would think growing up in such a large family, you’d want the same.”

I snorted. “Don’t you think growing up in a zoo would make me want quiet?”

“Nah. You can pretend it was crazy, but I know you loved it.”

I did. Kind of. There were days I wanted to run away. A few times I actually did, but I always went back.

“I always thought I’d have it figured out by now,” I said. “The marriage thing. The family thing. I’m forty.”

“So?”

“So I’m behind schedule.”

Cleo laughed. “You can’t put marriage and kids on a spreadsheet, Lurch.”

“Why not?”

“Because life doesn’t work that way. It just… happens. When it’s supposed to.”

I frowned. “That sounds inefficient.”

“It is inefficient. It’s messy and unpredictable.”

“And after the kids?” I asked. “What then?”

“Oh, I’m going to be amazing. Purple hair down to my ass. Eccentric outfits that make people uncomfortable. Like, fur coats in July. Sequined caftans. Hats with feathers. Bright. Lots of noise.”

“Hats with feathers,” I repeated.

She sipped more wine. “And I’m going to hang out at thrift stores just to mess with teenagers. Hide in the coat racks and jump out. Follow them around offering unsolicited fashion advice.”

“You’re going to terrorize children.”