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Show Motherlunge a novel 209 "You're looking for a steady." I was glad that our embrace didn't allow me to see his face. We seemed to be communicating better than usual, our skulls stacked up as if in a catacomb somewhere, chatting away our eternity. "No," Eli said. "Well, sort of. It's not about having security. I mean, I don't think all of this should be easy, necessarily." "It won't be," I said quickly and with just a small note of panic. "I mostly go from thing to thing. I've never wanted something the way you seem to want this." I waited. A bus approached the stop; I felt Eli wave it past. "This?" I said finally, crazily, responsibly. "A baby," he said, his chin hard across my sagittal suture. "And, maybe, me too." I shook my head and sat up to face him. It hurt, actually hurt-the hope that surged through me like a hormone. I took a cleansing breath again, why not? Maybe I could make room for it. "You want to hitch your wagon to my senseless desperation?" I asked. He smiled slowly at me, and I saw it: probably, he loved me. "I guess," Eli said. It hurt some more, that hope. I said, "I don't even know why I want a baby." I thought about it; I swallowed. I considered cataloguing the vast inventory of my unmet emotional needs, and decided not to. Nothing else came to mind to say. It was Eli's turn. "But you want it so much. I saw it with Xavier." I nodded. "I do, too," he said. "I mean mostly, I want the wanter." |